CHAPTER 3

  OBSESSION

  You probably wonder why I am obsessed with Stan—why I can’t just leave him alone. Well, I’ll try to explain it, although you still may not understand. Ever since high school I have been searching for an intelligent, mature, and sensitive man that I could live with the rest of my life. I thought for sure I’d find that man at Highland Park High School or at UT, but it just didn’t happen. Most of the boys I dated were immature and were threatened by my intelligence.

  By the time I got into law school, I was getting worried that I wouldn’t ever find that man. Then at SMU I met and got to know Stan Turner. He was the man I had been looking for all those years. The only problem was he was married, had a family, and wasn’t remotely interested in a romantic relationship with me.

  Even so, I still found myself repeatedly trying to get his attention. But he was totally oblivious to my flirtations and vain efforts to lure him away from Rebekah. One time I spent the entire class writing in my notebook ‘Paula loves Stan . . . Paula loves Stan . . . Paula loves Stan’ hoping Stan would glance over and see it. He didn’t. So, I tried just being a friend, but the more I got to know him, the more I wanted him all to myself. Maybe I’m a rotten person for even thinking of stealing a man away from his wife, but Rebekah is no saint either. She deserted Stan during his Marine Corps court martial and nearly divorced him. What kind of woman would do that? She’s constantly complaining and whining about him working long hours and working too hard, yet she knew all along he was going to be an attorney and that long hours and hard work came with the territory.

  After we graduated from law school, I didn’t see Stan for several years. We both went our separate ways. My search for a soul mate continued, but still with no success. What happened was I found myself comparing every man I met with Stan and they’d always come up short. Then I started reading about him in the newspapers. He was getting all these great cases and the media loved him. I read everything they wrote about him and was sick that I wasn’t a part of his life. Then fate brought us back together and I told myself this time he would be mine. Well, it didn’t work out exactly as I planned, but here I am smack dab in the middle of his exciting life.

  Will I ever lure him to my bed? Well, the jury is still out on that one, but I know he likes me. I’ve caught him watching me many times and if I wear a sexy outfit to work, he can’t keep his eyes off me. I like to tease him by getting up close and putting my hand on his shoulder or his arm and smiling affectionately. Sometimes I’ll sneak up behind him and rub his back. I’m sure he enjoys it because he never tells me to stop. One day he’ll come to the condo and then—well, who knows might happen.

  I glanced at the clock and noticed it was almost nine o’clock. My fantasizing had to stop. I needed to be at Dusty Thomas’ arraignment at ten. Earlier I had contacted the bail bondsman to see what the prospects were for getting Dusty a bond. It didn’t look good as the only assets Dusty and Martha had were their home and land, which were useless as bond collateral. At the hearing, the judge cited the ruthless nature of the murder and the lack of any other suspects as justification for a $250,000 bond. Our bondsman wanted $25,000 in cash and assets worth at least $225,000 as collateral to put up the bond. This didn’t appear to be possible so I informed Dusty that he might have to stay in jail awhile.

  “But how will I pay my bills?” he complained.

  “I don’t know. Do you have any savings?”

  “Shoot no. If I have to stay locked up, we’ll lose our ranch and Martha will be out on the street.”

  “Don’t you have any relatives you could stay with?”

  “No, my son lives in an old mobile home with just two bedrooms. The three eldest sleep in one room. He and his wife and the baby in the other. There is no way Martha could stay with them.”

  “Well, there is one other possibility.” I said. “It’s not a very attractive one but—”

  “What is it? I just can’t stay in jail.”

  “Well there is an organization that has contacted me and offered to put up your bail and pay for your defense.”

  Dusty’s eyes widened. “Who would do that?”

  “It’s an organization called the Citizen’s Defense Alliance or CDA. They are a radical, anti-government organization that champions the right of citizens to bear arms, less government control over our lives, and contends that the 16th amendment was never properly ratified.”

  “So, why do they care about me?”

  “Well, the 16th amendment to the U.S. Constitution is the authority for our modern day income tax laws. They contend that the 16th amendment was never ratified, and therefore, the income tax is illegal. They like your case because, to them, it appears you are the first person to exercise your right to bear arms and defend your property against an illegal income tax.”

  “Yeah, but it’s not true. I didn’t kill the IRS agent.”

  “They don’t care. It’s what the public perceives that’s important to them. They figure they will get millions of dollars of publicity from your case.”

  “So, what should I do?”

  “It's probably not a good idea to be associated with a group like that. If you take their money it will appear you are guilty and believe that killing an IRS agent is justified.”

  “That does bring up a good question though.”

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “How am I going to pay you guys?”

  That was a good question and one that Stan and I should have carefully considered before taking on the case. Unfortunately, Stan rarely considered the economics of a case before plunging forward with it. Nor did he consult me about it. Of course, that was partially my fault because I didn’t object to taking it on. I guess I got caught up in the excitement of it all and forgot I was supposed to be the guardian of the firm’s pocketbook. Oh well, so much for fiscal responsibility. As I thought about it, this CDA offer was looking better and better.

  “Didn’t Stan discuss that with you?”

  “No, it never crossed my mind until right this minute.”

  “Hmm. Let me talk to the CDA. If I make it clear to them that you are innocent and do not endorse or agree with their organization’s tenets, and they still want to pay for defense, well, why not let them?”

  “Okay, that sounds good to me. I'll do whatever it takes to get out of this place. I can’t leave Martha alone another night.”

  “All right, then. I’ll talk to their leader tomorrow morning, and if he agrees, I’ll have you out by the end of the day.”

  “Oh, God. Thank you, Paula. I’m so glad Stan found you and brought you into the firm. You’re a hell of an attorney.”

  I smiled. “Well, thank you, Dusty. Be sure and tell Stan that, okay?”

  “I damn sure will.”

  Raymond Farr, the Chairman of the CDA, was elated that Dusty was going to take him up on his offer. He said he’d have his finance chairman contact the bail bondsman and arrange for the necessary collateral and he’d put a check in the mail to us for $50,000 that day. I knew Stan would be pissed that the CDA had gotten involved in the case, but I figured I could blame it on Dusty. After all, it’s a free country and how the client gets the money for his fees is none of our business. The important thing is that Dusty would now get the best possible defense and we would be able to concentrate on proving him innocent without being distracted by our own financial problems. My ace in the hole, if all hell broke loose, would be Rebekah. She would be on my side on this one.

  Now that I had dealt with Dusty’s bail and our fees, I started thinking about how we were going to defend him. This was a critical period in the case as memories tended to fade over time and evidence often disappeared. I needed to start talking to witnesses and make an inventory of the evidence in the case. The FBI and the Collin County Sheriff’s office had all the evidence, so I’d have to contact them to take a look at it.

  This was kind of a strange case because of the federal involvement. I wondered if the Feds would
invoke jurisdiction and take over prosecution of Dusty. I hoped that didn’t happen as I knew the Texas judicial system much better than the federal. I also had a lot of friends in local law enforcement which would make it easier to conduct discovery. I figured it was time to call the Collin County District Attorney’s office and see what I could find out from them. Fortunately I knew an assistant DA who worked in that office. His name was Bart Williams, and he and I had dated briefly when he worked at the Dallas DA’s office. I called him.

  “Paula, how are you,” Bart said.

  “Great, I’m in a partnership now with Stan Turner.”

  “I heard. How’s that going?”

  “Well, I guess you know we got the Dusty Thomas case.”

  “Yes, good luck. You guys gonna plead him out?”

  “Good God, no. He’s innocent.”

  Bart chuckled. “Innocent? Okay. . . .Whatever you say.”

  “Hey, I’ve got to come up there and check out some evidence. You want to get a bite to eat?”

  “Sure, I’d like that. You’re not seeing anyone?”

  “Not on a regular basis. Been too busy.”

  “Right. I can imagine.”

  “Twelve o’clock at the hospital cafeteria?”

  “Sounds good.”

  The only decent place to eat in McKinney was the Collin County Hospital cafeteria. They had a trustee from the Collin County jail working there at lunch who used to run the kitchen at the Mansion. When he got arrested for possession and had to serve time in the Collin County jail, they put him to work in the hospital cafeteria. At lunch each day there were more business people eating there than patients and employees. I arrived a few minutes early and found a spot at the end of one of the long tables. Bart was short, muscular, and well tanned. He was good in bed but had few other redeeming qualities. But being in the Collin County DA’s office made him invaluable to me, so I decided it was time to rekindle our relationship. I spotted him walking in the door so I waved. He looked over at me, smiled, and made his way to where I was seated.

  “Hi, Paula,” he said taking a seat across from me.

  “Thanks for meeting me,” I said. “I really didn’t want to make contact with your office without knowing a little bit about what was going on.”

  “Makes sense. What do you want to know?”

  “At the arraignment there was some talk about the Feds taking over prosecution of the case. What’s the status of that?”

  “It’s not going to happen.”

  “Why not? I would have figured the Feds would want to try Dusty.”

  “Yeah, but we talked them out of it.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “You know the last time they executed a federal prisoner?”

  “Oh. They want Dusty to die.”

  “Exactly. They have to set an example here. We’ve promised to ask for the death penalty.”

  “Well, I appreciate you sharing that information with me. Have they assigned a prosecutor yet?”

  “Yes, Trenton Lee. He has the most experience and the best track record.”

  “Right. I can’t remember him losing a single case.”

  “Well, I sure he’s lost one or two but a loss for him is rare.”

  “Wonderful.”

  After we ate lunch we got a room at the Holiday Inn and had incredible sex. It was just like old times and I was getting a lot of great information. Bart had never been able to resist me so I took advantage of my power over him to get all the information I needed. It’s not like I was doing anything unethical or illegal. The prosecution is supposed to share all their evidence with the defense anyway. I was just getting it much earlier in the game and without having to jump through the usual hoops. Of course, if Bart blurted out a few secrets along the way, I couldn’t help that.

  “Well, I had a great time this afternoon, Bart. We’ll have to do this again sometime.”

  Bart smiled and nodded. “Absolutely.”

  “Oh, I was wondering, did your lab guys come up with anything that would prove for sure that Dusty’s gun was the murder weapon?”

  “No, you know shotguns. The bullets shatter and scatter. We do know, though, that your guy had a Remington and the shooter used a Remington. We could tell by the plastic wads bearing the Remington mark that we found in the body. The shell casings the FBI found all over the ranch and the live ammunition they confiscated from Dusty's house all matched and were consistent with what they pulled out of Bobby Tuttle's chest.”

  “But, you don’t have conclusive proof that Dusty’s gun was the murder weapon?”

  “No, not conclusive, but pretty convincing.”

  Dusty took me to the Collin County DA’s office and introduced me to Trenton Lee. I was on my best behavior and told them I was looking forward to working with them. They gave me a list of their evidence and they made arrangements for me to inspect it later in the week. Included in the evidence, I was told, were dozens of bitter letters from Dusty to the IRS. He was very angry and apparently had threatened Agent Tuttle on more than one occasion.

  Other supposedly damning evidence were gunshot residue found on Dusty’s hands after his arrest and witness statements from several agents and law enforcement officers who had seen altercations between Agent Tuttle and Thomas over the years.

  Depression overcame me on my drive back to Dallas. No matter where I looked it seemed everything pointed to Dusty’s guilt. Maybe’s Stan’s gut feeling about Dusty’s innocence was wrong. Maybe Dusty’s long battle with the IRS had finally driven him to murder. Could we plead temporary insanity? I wondered. When Dusty saw the agent on his property, was he so enraged he just snapped? This was Collin County where Candy Montgomery axed to death her lover's wife and was able to successfully claim temporary insanity. I made a mental note to talk to Stan about that possibility.

  When I got back to the office there was a message from Stan. He was at a motel in Steamboat Springs, Colorado. I wondered why he would be calling me. I didn’t expect to hear from him for another couple days. I picked up the phone and dialed the number. The motel operator answered. She rang Stan’s room.

  “Hello.”

  “Stan?”

  “Paula, hi,” Stan said. “What’s going on?”

  “Oh, I just got back from the Collin County DA’s office.”

  “Did you learn anything?”

  “They’re going for the death penalty.”

  “I figured they’d have to. . . . Listen, I heard some rather disturbing news on the TV a little while ago.”

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “There’s a report the CDA is putting up Dusty’s bond.”

  A cold chill came over me. “Yeah, that’s right. Dusty just couldn’t handle it in jail so he jumped at their offer to put up the bond. I told him it was crazy and could jeopardize his case but—”

  “Crazy? It’s suicide! The Feds are going to go berserk over this. Not only that, they’ll be after us too. If they think we are in any way connected or sympathetic with the CDA, they’ll put us on their hit list and make our lives miserable for the next hundred years. You’ve got to stop this right now.”

  I took a deep breath. I figured Stan would be mad, but this was more than I expected. “It’s too late. The bond's already been put up and Dusty’s going to be on the street in twenty minutes.”

  “Oh, my God. How could you have let this happen? We’re on our way home.” The phone went dead. I stared at it a minute in shock. Stan was a very mild mannered man and it was so out of character for him to hang up on someone, let alone me. I felt sick.

  Jodie walked in and gave me an inquisitive look. “Did I hear you talking to Stan?” She asked.

  I forced a smile. “Right. He’s coming home early. He’ll be here the day after tomorrow.”

  Jodie gave me a hard look. I guess she saw the fear in my eyes. What had I done? “Is everything all right?” she asked.

  Another forced smile. “Yeah, Stan’s a little upset that the CDA is
putting up Dusty’s bond.”

  “The CDA?”

  “Yeah, wait ’til he finds out I just deposited a $50,000 check from them into our account.”

  Jodie’s mouth dropped. “You didn’t?”

  “Listen, Jodie. You’ve got to help me out here. I’ve heard you complain that Stan’s too easy on his clients and often works for nothing, right?”

  “Yes. But the CDA is a terrorist organization.”

  “Well, do you think Dusty could have paid us to defend him?”

  She shrugged. “I guess not, but—”

  “So, when the CDA offered to fund the case I jumped at it. Nobody’s going to think badly of us because we took the CDA’s money. It doesn’t mean we support them or have anything to do with them. Attorneys take money from criminals and drug dealers every day. It’s no big deal.”

  “It will be a big deal to Stan. I think I’ll be sick the rest of the week.”

  “Fine, desert me. I’m just trying to do what’s best for the firm. I guarantee you won’t be getting any more calls from creditors as long as I’m part of this law firm. Shoot, you’re probably due for raise, aren’t you?”

  Jodie gave me a tentative nod.

  “Well, I know Stan thinks of you not so much as a secretary, but as a personal assistant and confidante.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He likes you a lot and, if it weren’t for Rebekah—”

  “That is ridiculous! Stan has never made any—”

  “Calm down. I’m not suggesting anything has gone on between you two. I’m just saying you are very important to him and if you side with me on this issue it would be very helpful. . . . And I’ll see to it that you get that raise you deserve.”

  “I don’t need a raise,” Jodie protested. “I just don’t like Stan having to worry about money all the time.”

  “Because you care about him, just like I care about him. He’s a kind and generous man and people take advantage of him. We have to protect him from those people and himself.”

  “All right. I’ll try to help you out, but I’m not doing it for me. I’m doing it for Stan. You’re right. This case could break him financially. I don’t want that to happen.”

  I didn’t have to force the smile that came over me this time. “Good girl. You’re making a wise decision.”