First Offense, page 22
Yes, Jessica knew she would keep Frankie in counseling, as long as it took for his nightmares to go away.
CHAPTER
37
As Dani worked on her brief to the Florida appellate court on Frankie’s behalf, she became more confident that she’d prevail. It was a uniform rule in most states that statutes should be strictly construed, especially criminal statutes; and in Florida, to be guilty of escape, the escapee had to have been confined at an institution, or in the process of being transported to or from the place of confinement, or working on a public road. The irrefutable fact was that Frankie hadn’t been confined at the hospital. Just like any other patient there, he’d had no one to stop him from getting up and leaving.
With the escape conviction gone, Frankie would be allowed to return to school at the end of the summer break and start living like a teenager again. He’d be able to play soccer in the fall and baseball in the spring. He’d be able to hang out with a friend after school or on weekends. Except . . . there was still someone out there who wanted Frankie dead. It had to be Wilcox. Or Humphrey. Or both. If only something could be found tying Humphrey to Wilcox, they could be locked up, Dani thought. If that happened, they’d have nothing to gain by silencing Frankie. He would finally be truly free. Alex’s army buddies could return to their own families, and Frankie would go back to being just a typical boy.
Only Frankie wasn’t typical. He was intellectually gifted and for years had nourished a dream of using those gifts to become a doctor. What would his chances be with an adjudication of delinquency on his record? Under Florida law, Frankie wouldn’t be eligible to have his record sealed or, even better, expunged, because of that ruling. That meant that on any college application that asked about previous arrests, Frankie would have to answer yes. With admission to the top colleges already competitive, it could be enough to deny him entrance. And the same was true for medical schools. It infuriated Dani that he’d been deemed delinquent. It was simply unfair that he’d be marked for life. She realized she and Tommy couldn’t stop even if she won Frankie’s appeal. She’d keep searching until she found out why Humphrey had treated him so harshly. And then, just maybe, she’d be able to get his record wiped clean.
She finished up the brief, then handed it off to her assistant to make copies and serve on the court and the state attorney. After giving her instructions, Dani wandered over to Tommy’s desk.
“Hey, gorgeous.”
“Hey, yourself.”
“How’s Frankie’s appeal going?”
“Just finished. I think we’re pretty solid on it.”
Tommy nodded. “But you’re here to tell me it’s not enough, right?”
Tommy knew her so well, Dani realized. They’d worked together for many years now, always having each other’s back. Although there were other investigators in the office, ever since Dani had started handling cases from the investigation phase, she’d worked only with Tommy. They made a good team. She’d even gotten to the point where his sexist banter just slid off her back.
“I don’t want you to give up looking for a connection between Humphrey and Wilcox.”
“I haven’t stopped. Just keep coming up empty, though.”
“Perhaps we’re coming at it from the wrong angle. We know the change in his rulings began about three years ago. Let’s delve into his life and see what was going on then. Maybe that will lead us to the answer.”
“I’ll get right on it.”
Tommy had always been her miracle worker, coming up with the answer whenever they’d hit a dead end. Frankie Bishop needed one more miracle from him.
Dani lay wrapped in Doug’s arms during “honeymoon hour” that night. The windows were open, letting in a gentle breeze and the sweet smell of forsythia, the first blooms of the season.
As Doug ran his hand over Dani’s expanded belly, he said, “We should start thinking about names.”
“Do you have any in mind?”
“How about Emma?”
“It’s a nice name. I don’t hate it.”
“That means you already know what you want.”
Dani sat up and looked at Doug. “I know it’s an old-fashioned name, but I was thinking of Ruth, after my mother.” From a young age, Dani had realized her mother was special. She’d used her keen intellect to fight for causes she believed in, never backing down in the face of bullies. She’d taught Dani to stand up for herself first, and then stand up for those who couldn’t. Dani missed her terribly.
“I think that would be lovely,” Doug said. “And we can give her Emma as a middle name.”
“Perfect.”
After Doug went up to bed, Dani lingered downstairs a little longer. She padded into the kitchen to make herself a cup of decaf tea, and as she waited for the water to boil, wished everything could be as simple as naming a child. She remembered when Jonah was an infant, how she worried over every little thing. Was he getting enough nourishment? Was he growing as he should? Was he crying because he was in pain? Nothing was easy then, especially when he failed to develop as expected. They’d taken him from doctor to doctor until one finally diagnosed him with Williams syndrome. Then the worrying intensified. Would it be the same with Ruth Emma? Or had she learned that worrying didn’t change much? That the only thing that mattered was loving her children and letting them know they were loved? Whatever Frankie Bishop had gone through, whatever was yet to come, he had parents who loved him and let him know they did. And because of that, she believed that even if she failed at unmasking Humphrey, Frankie would succeed in the end.
A few days later, Tommy had reached another dead end. He’d discreetly checked around with some of Humphrey’s neighbors, as well as the country club Humphrey belonged to and the bar association for Cypress Country. Nothing. Nobody could point to any connection between the judge and Wilcox. He picked up his phone and buzzed Dani’s intercom.
“I got nothing on Humphrey,” he told her. “If I were still an FBI agent, there are things I could do, but you want me to stay on the up-and-up with this. I can’t think of where else to go with it.”
“What would you do differently if you were an agent?”
“Well, then, I could make up some story that it was official federal business. Get people to open up that way. But I can’t tell people I’m a fed when I’m not. That’s a jailable offense.”
“Maybe I can make it work. I’ll get back to you.”
As far as Dani knew, ML Juvenile Services was still the target of a Justice Department investigation. She picked up the phone and called Josh Cosgrove.
“He’s in court this morning,” his assistant said. “I’ll leave him a message you called.”
Two hours later, Josh returned her call. “What’s up?”
“Is the Justice Department still looking for dirty dealings between Humphrey and Wilcox?”
“Of course, especially now with the concern that one of them hired a hit man. We’d love to find something, but so far nothing’s come up.”
“Would you be willing to send an agent down there? Tommy has some ideas.”
“I think we could do that.”
“And let Tommy and me tag along?”
“Sure. As long as you don’t get in the way.”
“Once again, thanks.”
“Hey, if Wilcox was willing to resort to murder, we’ve got to nail him. And if this judge is dirty, we want to catch him.”
“He is. I know it.”
CHAPTER
38
One week later, Dani and Tommy were back in Florida, this time with Clyde Metzger. Bruce still hadn’t run out of frequent-flyer miles and had encouraged them to go. It was mid-May and the temperature hovered near ninety-five degrees. With the humidity, it felt like over a hundred. They were on Judge Humphrey’s block, ready to speak to his neighbors.
“Remember,” warned Metzger. “I do the talking. You’re both just here to observe.”
“Aye, aye, captain,” said Tommy.
They walked up to the home next door to Humphrey’s and rang the bell. No answer. They moved on to the next one, did the same thing. After a minute, the door opened, and a woman who appeared to be in her sixties stood in front of them.
Metzger whipped out his badge. “Ma’am, my name is Clyde Metzger, with the FBI. We’re doing a background check on your neighbor, Howard Humphrey. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
The woman held her hand over her eyes to block the sun. “Has he done something wrong?”
“No, ma’am. He’s being considered for a federal position, and a background check is routine.”
“What position is that?”
“I’m afraid I’m not permitted to say. And before we go forward, I must advise you that you cannot talk to Judge Humphrey or his wife about our visit. Doing so would violate federal law. Do you understand?”
The woman nodded. “Would you like to come in?”
“Thank you, yes.”
They entered the woman’s house, and she gestured toward the living room. “Go ahead in and make yourselves comfortable. Would you like anything to drink?”
When they declined, the woman followed them into the living room. Once they were all seated, Metzger began.
“What is your name?”
“Sara Jenkins.”
“How well do you know Judge Humphrey?”
“Pretty well. We’ve been neighbors for fourteen years.”
“Do you ever socialize with him or his wife?”
“Yes, with both. They’re our friends.”
“Have you ever seen the judge display a temper?”
“Heavens, no. He’s the gentlest man.”
“Ever hear him disparage any racial, religious, or ethnic group?”
“Of course not.”
“Do you know any of his friends?”
“Some. He has a large July Fourth party every year. We’ve met some of his friends there.”
Metzger opened up his briefcase and withdrew a picture of Roger Wilcox. “Ever see him at one of the parties?”
Sara took the picture from his hands and looked at it closely, then placed it down on the cocktail table. “No, I don’t recall seeing him.”
Metzger handed her another picture, one from the files, a man he knew had no relationship with the judge. “How about him?”
Once again, she looked the picture over, then shook her head.
“What one word would you use to describe the judge’s character?”
Quickly, she answered, “Thoughtful.”
“Did there ever come a time when you thought his personality changed?”
“No.”
“Perhaps around three years ago?”
Sara’s eyes narrowed. “My husband always tells me I’m too trusting. How do I know you’re really with the FBI?”
“Ma’am, here’s my card. You can call and ask for my supervisor. Or you can call information and confirm that this is the right number for our office. I’d be happy to wait while you do that.”
Sara giggled. “Oh, I’m being silly, I guess. Of course you’re who you say you are. I just never had an FBI agent question me before.”
“You’re smart to be cautious. Now, going back to three years ago. Did you notice any change in him then?”
“No, he’s always been very pleasant.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Jenkins, I believe we have enough. I just want to remind you that these checks are confidential, and you’re not to discuss this with anyone, including the Humphreys.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
After they left, they went up and down the block and the results were the same. The judge was “caring,” or “kindhearted,” or “intelligent,” or “considerate.” No one recognized Wilcox’s picture, and no one saw any change in him three years ago.
“That’s it for today,” Metzger said. “Tomorrow we hit the courthouse.”
Dani nodded. There was nothing more for them to do.
Dani couldn’t believe it. She’d called in for messages, and Carol had told her that the appellate court had scheduled oral argument in Frankie’s case in one week. Normally, it took months. Despite her confidence that the law was on her side, she knew courts were unpredictable. If they decided the case as quickly as they scheduled it, and the ruling went against Frankie, he could be back at Eldridge much sooner than she’d anticipated. Too soon for the Justice Department to have come up with something solid against ML Juvenile Services and Judge Humphrey.
This wasn’t an official HIPP case, yet it was taking up so much of Dani’s time. Time that should be spent helping free an innocent man or woman already behind bars, sometimes for years, even decades. She knew she should back off, perhaps ask a junior associate to argue the appeal. After all, it should be routine. But she knew she wouldn’t, and she knew Bruce wouldn’t want her to. Since she’d begun working on Frankie’s behalf, every night when she arrived home and looked at Jonah, she was awash with gratitude that he was safe. How could she turn her back on a twelve-year-old? She couldn’t. She walked over to the desk in her motel and began preparing her oral argument.
Dani, Tommy, and Metzger arrived at the circuit court just before nine a.m. and headed to the rooms of the chief justice. Metzger flashed his badge to the assistant sitting in the outer office, explained that they needed to ask the judge some questions, and were led into his chambers. Herman Silverman had been on the bench for more than thirty-five years, yet except for his wavy white hair, he looked like a fit fifty-year-old who’d just come off the tennis court.
“How can I help you?”
Metzger went into his routine about a federal appointment for Humphrey.
“That’s interesting. He hasn’t said anything to me about it.”
“He doesn’t know he’s under consideration for the position. An offer isn’t made until after preliminary due diligence has been completed. Of course, if everything goes well, and he’s made an offer, and he accepts the position, a more thorough check will be done. Because an offer hasn’t been made yet, I have to ask you to refrain from discussing our visit with Judge Humphrey.”
“Of course. I understand.”
“What’s your assessment of his judicial abilities?”
“I’d rate him as one of our top judges. Very intelligent. Understands the law inside and out. And fair.”
“Let’s talk about that for a bit. We understand that he’s considered a hard judge. That he comes down strong on the juveniles before him.”
“Well, I think it’s because he believes a firm hand now will help them later. Better that they get a dose of reality with detention centers than end up doing hard time when they’re older.”
“Do you agree with that?”
“I don’t handle the juvenile cases myself. I think he’s seen a lot over the years where kids were given a warning and just ended up back before him. Or worse, before me, being treated as an adult.”
Metzger looked down at some papers in his hand and scanned through them—Dani knew it was for show—then said, “It seems like his rulings started to change around three years ago. That’s when he began sentencing more kids to detention centers. Do you know if anything specific happened that changed Judge Humphrey’s views around that time? Maybe with a particular case?”
Judge Silverman reclined in his high-backed leather chair and scrunched up his face. Slowly, he began to shake his head. “I can’t think of anything. In fact, he’d just returned to the bench after a three-month leave around that time, so I don’t think any case could have had that impact. No, I think just in general, he felt it was in the interest of the children to be sterner. In the long term, that is.”
“What was the purpose of the leave of absence?”
“Personal reasons.”
“I need you to be more specific.”
“I don’t think that’s my place. You should ask him.”
“Sir, I believe he would want you to be forthcoming. This is an important position he’s being considered for.”
“It was a medical issue. Beyond that I believe you need to discuss with him.”
“If he had a problem that required rehab, or psychiatric care, it’s essential for us to know.”
“No, no, nothing like that. He had surgery.”
“Are the judges here required to provide any conflicts information?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, for example, do they provide a financial statement that shows significant investments to make sure they’re not deciding any case in which they have an interest in one of the parties?”
“We provide a copy of all our investments. Beyond that, if anyone comes before the court where there could even be a potential conflict of interest, the judge recuses himself from the case.”
“Can you make a photocopy of Judge Humphrey’s investments for me?”
“Am I allowed to do that? Isn’t it an invasion of his privacy?”
“Sir, anything given to us remains in the strictest confidence. It’s only used for the purpose of screening out any potential conflicts. I can assure you that if an offer is made to him, we’ll be looking far more closely at all his finances.”
“I suppose it’s okay.”
Silverman walked over to a file cabinet in the corner of his office, opened the top drawer, and pulled out a folder. “I keep the sensitive files in my own office.” He buzzed his assistant and asked her to make a copy.
They finished questioning the chief judge, thanked him, then left. Once outside, Metzger took out the papers Silverman had given him. He scanned the pages, then looked up at Dani and Tommy. “There’s nothing here. No mention of ML Juvenile Services.” Metzger stuffed the papers back into his briefcase. “I don’t think we’re going to find anything more here. I’m sorry to say this, for Frankie’s sake, but he looks clean.”
“What do you think that medical leave was about?” Tommy asked.
“Just what Silverman said. He had surgery.”
“Maybe. But his referrals to ML facilities began around the same time. Shouldn’t you look into that?”
