Authors: Mark Paul Smith
Before Leonard could answer, Ms. Gomez looked at Honey and said, "And you must be Honey Waldrop."
"What's this about?" Perkins asked.
"Who are you?" Ms. Gomez glared at Perkins.
"I am Detective David Perkins of the Wabash County Sheriff's Department. I'm in charge here."
"Not any more," Ms. Gomez snarled. "Read this."
Perkins took the document and reviewed it.
"It's an emergency restraining order issued by Judge Jonathan Fee of the Wabash Circuit Court," Ms. Gomez explained, "the court in charge of Gretchen Atkins' petition to establish guardianship over Leonard Atkins. This order clearly states that Honey Waldrop shall have no contact with Leonard Atkins, either directly or indirectly, pending the outcome of the criminal investigation regarding the poisoning of Leonard Atkins."
"What does this mean?" Honey asked.
"It means you must leave this hospital room immediately," Ms. Gomez said. "If you choose to not comply, you will be charged with invasion of privacy, a Class D Felony, punishable by up to three years in jail."
"You can't do this," Leonard said, struggling to get out of bed. "I know my rights. Tell her, detective. She can't just march in here and tell me I can't be with my woman."
Perkins looked at Honey, who was beginning to lose her color, and said, "I'm afraid she can, Mr. Atkins. This court order is basically a no-contact order. Judge Fee has signed it. Honey, I'm afraid you and I are going to have to leave."
Honey fainted on the spot. She hit the bed first, which broke her fall, then slid to the floor before anyone could catch her. Besides a few bruises that would show up later, she was not injured. Fifteen minutes later, she awoke on a gurney in the nurses' station down the hall from Leonard's room.
"Where am I?" she asked while trying to bring the ceiling into focus. Detective Perkins' concerned face came into her view.
"You're in the hospital. You fainted in Leonard's room. Don't try to sit up. You've got a tube in your arm. It's an I.V. The doctor thinks you might be dehydrated."
"I never got a chance to drink my tea," Honey said, struggling to sit up. "Where's my Leonard?" She flopped her head back down on the pillow, "Oh, yes, it all comes back to me now. They kicked me out of his room because they think I poisoned him. What am I going to do Davey? What can I do?"
"For now you need to rest and try not to worry."
"Who was that woman who came in with the court order?"
"That was Maria Gomez, one of the toughest women you'll ever meet. She works for adult protective and she's seen enough abuse of the elderly to put her on the warpath forever."
"Didn't you tell her I would never hurt my Leonard?"
"I don't think she much cares what I think," Perkins said. "Don't worry, the investigation will prove you're innocent."
"I thought I was innocent until proven guilty."
Honey had spent a fitful night at her home after being released from the hospital. She was up and waiting for the paper when it arrived at 5:30 a.m. The news hit her so hard she nearly fainted again. Breathing deeply, she returned to her kitchen and drank a tall glass of water and took a blood pressure pill before sitting down to read the story. She was still in her robe.
"Oh, my goodness," she cried out to the empty house, "this sounds like something out of
The National Enquirer
!"
Little did she know how true that comment would become.
The story read:
Leonard Atkins was rushed to Wabash Memorial Hospital yesterday as technicians searched the home of Honey Waldrop for clues in an apparent case of poisoning.
Mr. Atkins is a retired farmer from Wabash County and Ms. Waldrop is a highly regarded community leader in North Manchester. Mr. Atkins had been placed in the nursing home for memory issues, but The Herald has learned that the two have been living together in Ms. Waldrop's home for several months. He is 76 years old; she is 77.
"They just had to put the ages in," Honey grumbled. She had always loved to see her name in the paper and it had been printed many times over the past fifty years as she led one charity event after another. This was the first time anyone had revealed her age. She knew the whole town was a-twitter over two older folks getting romantic, but this was really too much. Having the world know her age was almost as bad as being accused of attempted murder.
The story continued:
Wabash County Prosecutor, Karen Lindvall, said no charges have been filed in the case and stated Ms. Waldrop is not a suspect, but does remain a person of interest. Lab results from food and medicine and cosmetics removed from the home will not be available for at least two weeks, Lindvall stated.
Wabash County Detective David Perkins would not comment on what kind of poisoning is involved in the case, nor would he comment on any possible motive.
"Two weeks," Honey howled at the newspaper. "I'll be lynched in the town square by then. And Davey makes it sound like I've got some motive he can't talk about."
Honey threw down the newspaper and got up to make herself some tea and oatmeal. All she could think about was Leonard. His favorite saying was, "Be happy with what you got." She could hear him saying it in her mind. She could see him too, handsome devil that he was. She could even smell him in her mind. He always smelled like Old Spice deodorant. Honey loved everything about that man.
"Be happy with what you got," he loved to say. "That's the only way to be happy. Some folks, you could give them a million dollars and all they'd want is another million dollars. They can never be happy. The only way to be happy is to be happy with what you got.
"Well, I'm not happy with what I've got," Honey said as she paced back and forth from the kitchen to the living room, wondering what in the world she was going to do.
She paced until 8 a.m., plotting her next move. She knew what it would have to be. It was probably too early, but she dialed the number anyway.
When the going gets tough, the wealthy call their stockbrokers.
Surprisingly, she got Jim Tech on the phone and immediately poured her story out, beginning with, "They took Leonard away," and ending with, "I'll do anything to get him back."
Tech knew something was seriously wrong as soon as Honey launched into her tale of woe without the usual social small talk as an introduction. She was a misplaced Southern belle, after all. Somewhere in her rambling and excited story, he heard the words "police" and "search warrant" and "poison."
"Honey, slow down, please," he said. "Are you telling me the police got a warrant and searched your home because they think you might have poisoned Leonard?"
"Yes," Honey sighed. "That's what I'm telling you."
There was a long pause on the line. Honey waited for Tech's analysis, amazed he could so quickly get to the heart of her problem with one question.
"Did you read the paper this morning?" she asked.
"I don't take the North Manchester paper," he said. "Was it bad?"
"Was it bad?" Honey cried. "I'm front page news like some triple-ax murderer."
"Honey, Honey," Tech tried to calm her. "Settle down. It's going to be okay. You didn't kill anybody, did you?"
"Jim, I can't take this. After all I've done for this town. How can they treat me like this?"
"I'll tell you what. I'm glad you called me. I know exactly what you need to do."
"You do?"
"Yes, without a doubt. You just sit tight and wait by the phone. You're going to be getting a call this morning from somebody I highly recommend."
"Who is it?"
"He's a criminal defense attorney from Fort Wayne by the name of Robert Nimmo."
"Good, I don't want anybody from North Manchester handling this case."
Nearby Fort Wayne, IN., population 300,000, was definitely the big city compared to North Manchester, population 6,300.
"We got lucky," Attorney Nimmo said. "I had a trial scheduled for today that was continued to a later date. I've got some time."
"Good," Honey said. "So, as I was saying, I really am innocent. Do all your clients say that?"
"I only represent the innocent," Nimmo laughed as he shook her hand and looked into her eyes with a confidence Honey found instantly reassuring. He was as tall as Detective Perkins but much more trim. His hair and beard were a little long, but well-trimmed and with enough gray to show experience. His suit was expensive, and his dress boots with side zippers were well shined. She noticed his briefcase was Oleg Cassini with gold trim as he laid it on her dining room table and snapped it open to take out a writing tablet. He was handsome. He didn't wear glasses.
"I usually don't make house calls," Nimmo joked, "but when Jim Tech told me about you I figured I might as well check out the scene of the crime."
"There's been no crime committed here." Honey said.
"I know, I know. Sorry about that. I'm just using a little comic relief here to help you lighten up. I know how hard this must be for you. But let me tell you, everything's going to be all right."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely. So listen, before I start asking you a bunch of questions like some cop, let me tell you where we are. No charges have been filed against you. It's my job to make sure charges are never filed in this case. In other words, I'm here to nip this case in the bud. Good attorneys plea bargain, better attorneys charge bargain."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean we're not going to sit around and wait for them to file a criminal charge against you so we can then negotiate a plea bargain. We're going to do our homework now so they never file charges in the first place. Then we'll make the newspaper print that news as big as today's story."
"I like the way you think."
"I know the prosecutor. That doesn't mean she'll bend the rules to give me special deals. She's good that way. She doesn't do favors for her friends. We've known each other for years. She's a fair person. Apparently, you two know each other quite well?"
"Oh, yes. I've known her since she was a young lawyer. She got mad when I knew it was arsenic they said poisoned Leonard."
"Arsenic, huh? Sounds kind of old school, don't you think? Who would want to poison Leonard Atkins?"
"Nobody," Honey said. "In fact, I don't think he was poisoned. I think Gretchen is making all this up. And now she's got a no-contact order or something that says I can't even go see him even when he needs me."
"Hold on, slow down. Who's Gretchen?"
The attorney nodded and took notes as Honey told him the story of Leonard's niece, Gretchen Atkins, trying to get him declared incompetent so she could maintain control over his estate.
"You know," Nimmo said, "I do enough estate litigation to know the vultures often start circling long before anyone dies."
"That's the thing," Honey said. "He's not even close to dying. He's only 76. That's young these days. It's one year younger than me, and let me tell you, I got a lot of living left to do and so does Leonard. And we intend to do it together."
Honey got up from her chair and slammed both hands on the table. "Mr. Nimmo. I need you to do something for me right now, today."
Nimmo looked up quickly, surprised by the urgency of her tone and the quickness of her movement. "I'll do what I can. What is it?"
"I need you to go see Leonard. He's already back at the nursing home, I checked. Now, they've got him in assisted living. He was in independent living, but they moved him to more secure quarters because of all the trouble. I can't go see him, but you can. I need you to tell him I love him and I need you to tell him I'm going to get him out of there."
"I'll go see him for you," Nimmo said. "And I'll do it as soon as we're finished here. But don't talk crazy about getting him out of anywhere. Even I would have trouble defending you on that one."
Honey gave Nimmo a look to make him realize she was capable of doing just about anything at this point. She looked determined and stubborn. Her strong eyebrows arched high over hazel eyes that shined fiercely. Her nose was sleek but solid. Her jaw was firmly set. She looked determined and strong-willed. She came from a long line of stubborn women. Her proud Southern family had buried its wealth in a cotton field to hide it from the Union Army during the last year of the Civil War. Her grandmother still thought the South should have won the war.
"What are they going to do?" she asked. "Throw me in jail? I've got news for them, especially that Gretchen. She's the one who belongs in jail for doing this to us. I'm not going to live the time I've got left without the one man who has finally made me realize how truly fulfilling life can be."
Honey's voice cracked as she broke down and started to cry. Nimmo went around the table and gave her an extended hug. "Now, now, Honey. Don't be sad. We're going to get him back for you. Don't worry. It won't even take that long."
"How long?"
"A week or two, maybe a month."
"That's too long. They'll kill him by then. Every time he gets mad about being in there and away from me they give him more drugs. That nursing home is nothing but a pill factory. They dope him up so much he doesn't know where he is. They're going to kill him."
"Nobody's going to kill him," Nimmo tried to console her. "But why don't you think he was poisoned?"
"He was fine when I left him yesterday morning about 11 a.m. And, if you must know, he was even a little frisky."
"Frisky?"
Honey looked over her glasses at the younger attorney and said, "We're not dead yet."
"Of course, I mean, good for you . . . good for him."
Honey laughed at his embarrassment and decided to change the topic. "You're my attorney, right?"
"I will be as soon as you retain me."
"Oh, yes, I almost forgot," she said as she took her checkbook out of her purse and dashed off the check. "I understand it's $5,000 for now. Is that correct?"
"Correct," Nimmo said as he took the check.
"Don't worry, it's good," Honey said. "As Jim Tech probably told you, I have more than enough money to get by."
Nimmo let her continue. "So, now that you're my attorney, you can't tell anyone what I tell you, is that right?"
"That is correct. It's called attorney-client confidentiality."
"Fine, then let me tell you, I fully intend to rescue my Leonard from that horrible nursing home. That means it's going to be your job to keep me out of jail. That's your job anyway, isn't it?"
Nimmo looked at her carefully and said, "Before you do that, let me go talk to him. If he's competent and he hasn't been poisoned, we might be able to keep the charges from being filed. And, since the no-contact order is based on criminal charges being filed, we can probably kill two birds with one stone."
"How can they have two cases against me at one time?" Honey asked. "Isn't that double jeopardy?"
"There are two kinds of law in America," Nimmo explained. "One is criminal law. That's where the state punishes people for committing crimes. The other kind of law is civil law. That's basically where people fight about money. The criminal case has not been filed against you yet. It's under investigation. On the other hand, the civil case has been filed. That's the one where Gretchen is seeking to have Leonard declared incompetent so she can keep controlling his money."
"I'm glad you understand all this," Honey said.
A ray of afternoon sun shined through the curtains in Honey's dining room and illuminated her face. Tears were glistening in her eyes, but her chin was still squarely set. She looked much younger than her age as the sun lit up her blonde hair and seemed to smooth the wrinkles on her face.
"It's not just Gretchen who doesn't want us to be together," Honey said. "It seems like the whole town is jealous of what we've found in each other. It's like they think old people shouldn't be dating and having romantic times. I know they call me an old fool behind my back. They just can't stand it that we're in love. Unhappy people hate happy people!"
Nimmo couldn't help but laugh, "You said a mouthful there. And while you're at it, you might add that short people don't like tall people and fat people definitely hate thin people."
Honey laughed with him. It felt good to finally feel some emotional relief. She liked this lawyer. He didn't take himself too seriously.
As she was contemplating the new and satisfactory relation with her attorney, there came a knocking on Honey's front door. She looked at Nimmo and said, "Who could that be?"