admitted sadly that she hated the thought of him more than she cared for Gloria. Someone else would have to save the world.
Thinking about Gloria brought a dreadful question to mind. Was Abby one of the abused girls confined in that juvenile rehab facility? If she had endured the exploitation, Sandy wanted to meet with her.
She didn’t remember her at all in spite of her mention of being a soul mate. Some people, she supposed, are truly fortunate enough to have soul mates. None of Sandy’s friends rose to that level, certainly none of her teenage cellmates. Unless Abby was considering all of the girls soul mates by virtue of their common experience.
“I never forgot juvie rehab, but can’t place you, Abby.” The rehab affair was not an experience Sandy cared to rehash. “You say we were both in there at the same time?”
“Yeah, same giggle of girls,” Abby said. “I saw your picture in the local newspaper down here last month and I thought, hey I know her. You must be one hotshot lawyer to solve the murder of that politician and get your brother out of jail.”
“Not a lawyer yet, still a law student.” Four months ago, she had reluctantly quit her intern job with a criminal defense firm in Philadelphia to come to Florida. Temporarily, she assumed, to help her brother. He hadn’t bothered with her for years and then, after he was seduced and framed for a murder in Park Beach, he desperately phoned her in Philadelphia and sought her help. She resented having her life interrupted. At first, she had told him to go to hell.
“His arrest and confinement was appalling,” she told Abby on the phone, “but I created enough havoc and reasonable doubt to get him cleared of all charges.”
“Getting him released was one thing, but according to the paper you didn’t leave well enough alone and went after the true killer.”
“I had help. Do you need a lawyer? Is that what this is about?”
“No, don’t need a lawyer. Can’t I just phone an old juvie buddy? Well, in fact, I do have a little problem. But let’s just get together and talk. I’m out in West County. Do you ever get out this way?”
Now she was curious about meeting Abby. As Sandy recalled the rehab situation, she alone had escaped the sexual exploitation. If Abby was there at that time, that creepy counselor might have gotten to her too. Psychological effects could persist and meeting with Sandy might help. Issues from that old juvenile detention experience up north remained in the back of her own mind as well. She’d been walking around with uncomfortable thoughts from the past for too long. Perhaps recalling some of those concerns with this alleged juvie buddy would help. She agreed to meet her despite the bad vibes.
Chapter Three
Abby Olin snapped her phone shut and smiled. With that call, she had successfully involved an old rehab acquaintance, Sandra Reid, in the murder scheme. The scheme in which Abby would get lots of money despite Toby, her so-called boyfriend. He was going after the same money, was willing to give her some, but that wasn’t good enough for her. She intended to have the lion’s share, and any truthful lion will tell you
Toby assumed he’d get the money and he assumed he’d get laid. He gets the money, gives some to her, and she puts out. What’s the problem? What he was going to get was dead.
He was ten years younger than Abby, okay looking, and bursting with energy. Why let all that virility go to waste, she had asked herself. Why not make out with him a few times? Wait until he starts to cool off
Her murder scheme all started back on the night they returned from their first date. They had nestled in her living room talking and drinking until she felt sufficiently buzzed. Then she was ready. She started unbuttoning her blouse while leading him to the bedroom.
It was nice to be wanted, but he was overly excited. For more than an hour, he had sat on the couch watching her bare legs moving around carefree under her short denim skirt. At last in the bedroom, he popped before she could get her shoes off. Her jaw dropped. With her shoulders hunched and palms turned up, she gave him the classic what-the-hell-was-that look. She was pissed. What did she expect, almost thirty years old and still living with his mother? She hurried him out of the house that night and demanded he never call her again. Never! Got it, Toby? Never!
The next day he phoned.
“I think I’ll be okay next time,” he pleaded. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot. So, I’m kind of used to you now.”
“I’m glad you’ve been practicing, but no thanks.” Even considering her lousy sex life, one must have standards. No point in giving him a second chance, she thought. With his evident level of experience, he probably didn’t know what-went-where. Men can have their virgins, women prefer someone who knows what they’re doing.
He showed up uninvited at her door anyway. There’s no pest like a horny pest. Fortunately for her she decided to let him in. He babbled about some money, big money. She wasn’t buying any male bullshit to get her back in bed. While sitting there wondering how to get him out of the house, he reached in his pocket and came out with some bills to show her. It didn’t look like much...at first.
“Fan them out for me, Toby.”
Just ten bills but all hundreds. Where’d he get the money? He wasn’t certain he should tell her. He did say he had a lot more. Flashing that money was his first mistake.
She couldn’t hide the grin. “Do you have more down in your pants? Maybe I should look.”
For some reason, she believed him when he announced he had more at home and that presented a problem. With a couple hundred she could say, let’s go out and blow it. On the way back, she’d invent a headache and brush him off. Even a thousand wouldn’t be much of a challenge for her. If he did have serious money, she needed a plan. Like a get-all-of-it plan.
She fixed him a drink and sat him down in the living room. “Toby, we need to talk.” Meaning: shut up Toby, here’s what you’re going to do.
“You’re mad at me because of last night, aren’t you Abby? I want you to have this thousand. It’s okay—I’ve got more.”
“More, Toby?” she asked as casually as possible.
“Don’t know if I should talk about it.” He squirmed. “We going in your bedroom later?”
“You’re not suggesting I’d screw for money, are you?”
“Not unless you wanted to.”
“What?”
“No, what I meant was...the thousand’s yours...whatever.”
“Well, I should think so.” She had no idea why she should think so. “I’d love to go to bed with you, but I’m too tired. Anyway, my daughter Jamie is home tonight. She’s in her bedroom now. So keep your voice down.” In truth, her daughter was down the block sleeping over with a friend.
“I could come over tomorrow night and show you some more of the money, but it’s like...I’m all ready tonight, you know?”
“I’m eager as well, Toby. Let’s do this. Go home now and think hard about me. And I’ll think hard about you at the same time. That would be the proper way to handle your problem. Then bring the money over tomorrow night.”
She spent most of the thousand easily the following day. That night she opened the door to an eager and slicked up Toby. He appeared so nice that for an instant she regretted telling Jamie to stay home. After they settled together on the couch, he took out a handful of new hundred dollar bills and placed it on the coffee table in front of her. The bills were so fresh and crisp they fell in line like a new deck of cards. He slid the stack toward her and announced it was her half.
Huh?
Her half of what, she was afraid to ask. She couldn’t resist touching the bills. She evened them up, placed her hand on top of the stack, and flicked the sides of the beautiful bills with her thumb. She picked them up and shifted
