The Sun (eBook)

Frank F. Weber (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2024 | 1. Auflage
348 Seiten
Moon Finder Press (Verlag)
9798896607984 (ISBN)

Infos

Attorney, Taytum Hanson's, scandalous lifestyle, and sworn revenge on the Mafia, places a bullseye on her back, creating a thrilling, pulse-pounding, thriller. Investigators Jon and Serena Frederick face hard choices to resolve the intriguing mystery.

Frank F. Weber is a forensic psychologist specializing in homicide, sexual assault and domestic abuse cases. He uses his unique understanding of how predators think, knowledge of victim trauma, and expert testimony in writing his true crime thrillers. Frank has been interviewed on investigative shows and profiled cold case homicides. His novels have earned numerous awards. Frank is the 2024 recipient of the Outstanding Achievement Award from MN Psychological Association and received the President's Award from the MN Correctional Association for his forensic work.

Textauszug

Chapter 1

TUG GRANT

6:00 A.M., TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 15, 2021

MINNESOTA CORRECTIONAL FACILITY – LINO LAKES

7525 4TH AVENUE, LINO LAKES

The cells in each pod at Lino are dull brown concrete with blue metal doors. I shiver as I glance out the thin side window, waiting for the day to start. Everybody wears two layers because there’s a chill that runs through this cellblock on a cold night that you can’t shake. The common area has blue metal tables and chairs bolted to the floor. It would be impossible to make a seat less comfortable than the flat steel circles mounted too close to our tables.

I’m tempted to call the Innocence Project. Dick Doden murdered my wife, Deb Grant. Doden testified that my friend, Roan Caruso, hired him for the hit. And that’s where the evidence ends. How the hell did I get convicted of murder-for-hire? Prosecutor Bridget Bare claimed the circumstantial evidence was overwhelming. But was it? Is taking out an insurance policy on your partner evidence of murder? Ten million dollars might have been a little excessive, but it’s not enough to convict a man of murder. I had loaned Roan one hundred thousand dollars before Deb’s murder. That loan and the insurance were all they had. It was all circumstantial. Roan never implicated me.

No direct evidence exists. Given the circumstance that I’d taken out an insurance policy on my wife, the inference was made that I was setting her up for murder. This is not a reasonable inference. The jury ignored that I’d loaned money to Roan multiple times, beginning years before Deb’s murder, choosing again to infer that this circumstance was evidence of malice aforethought. Once I’m out of here, I’m going to contact the Reparations Board and demand a multimillion-dollar settlement. I will have the last laugh. This isn’t about guilt or innocence. The game is played with evidence, and they didn’t have enough to convict me. But until then, here I sit. This is my life, day after miserable day at the Minnesota Correctional Facility in Lino Lakes.

2:05 A.M. Count. This means every prisoner must be accounted for, so they shine a light on me, and I always wake up.

5:00 A.M. Count.

6:30 A.M. Shift change. I’m awake again as the staff trample in and out.

7:30 A.M. Breakfast.

8:00 A.M. Programming. I help imbeciles work toward their GED with the understanding I’ll get transferred to the work program.

11:10 A.M. Back in cell.

11:20 A.M. Count.

12:30 P.M. Lunch.

1:00 P.M. Yard time. Basically, walking in a circle.

2:00 P.M. Back to helping with classes. There are religious programs and programs for sex offenders, but I don’t need that.

2:30 P.M. Count.

5:30 P.M. Supper.

9:00 P.M. Standing count. Everyone stands outside their cell.

10:00 P.M. Lights out.

11:00 P.M. Count.

I need to get out of here. I’ll never live through twenty more years of walking in circles and listening to idiots arguing. There’s a TV in the general population area, but we never watch an entire show. Somebody always changes the channel right before the end and then taunts the crowd to see if anyone wants to fight him over it. No one wants to do thirty days in segregation, so the behavior goes unchallenged.

The guys here know I was a lawyer, so I’m constantly asked legal questions. I tell them I’ll answer—as soon as I see some money deposited in my account. I’m not a fool. I do provide free legal advice for the shot-caller in here. Giving guidance to the most influential prisoner enables me to move about with complete protection.

Since I have a murder conviction, I’m in a “wet cell,” meaning the toilet is inside my cell, and I get locked in after the standing count. Half the inmates have dry cells, so they use an out-of-cell restroom. It’s a disgusting life, but I’m working on making it tolerable. I have two regular visitors: my son, Lincoln, who thinks I’m guilty, and my attorney/lover, Taytum, who thinks I’m innocent.

7:00 P.M.

TAYTUM SITS ACROSS the table from me, looking like a goddess with sapphire-blue eyes and flowing blond hair. When she opens her blazer, it’s clear that she’s braless beneath her white dress shirt.

“Thank you for that,” I remark.

“The underwire sets off the metal detector. I didn’t want to mess around with a search.” Her eyes light up as she grins, “but I do put up with the search for my other clients.”

“You’ve got to get me out of here, Taytum. I can’t take the monotony. More importantly, it’s torture to be without you.”

“You need to be patient,” she says. “This is a course that has to be carefully charted. We have minimal room for mistakes. We can’t afford to waste your appeals on unwinnable arguments.”

“What do you have?”

“I have feelers out, and I’m waiting to hear back. The judge followed procedure impeccably in anticipation of an appeal. Nothing tangible yet.” Her positive demeanor gave way to concerns that she was a disappointment to me. Taytum offered, “I am spending every free minute on your case. My bed’s full of court documents because I fall asleep every night while working on this case. I promise I’ll find something.” She leaned toward me. “You are mine. That won’t change. Time apart from you only makes me want you more.”

Her assurance provided some comfort. I needed her to stay strong. “How are you holding up?”

“I miss you. I had a disturbing nightmare last night. I was lying in my casket at my wake, observing people standing over me. Mom was angry at Dad—as if it were his fault. Dad was nonplussed. Jon and Serena Frederick seemed sad. They’ve always been nice to me. Roan and Catania Turrisi jeered me like maniacal clowns. I never liked them. I still don’t know why you insist I defend Roan.”

“Defending Roan will pay your bills while you establish a practice.” I changed the subject back to her dream. “I assume there were lots of handsome men strolling by your body.”

“A few,” Taytum smirked, noting my envy. “None of them meant anything to me. What made the dream disturbing was that you weren’t there. You’d already left me. When I awoke, I realized I was going to die alone.”

“Not if I have any say in it.” I don’t mind her struggling without me, but I can’t have her falling apart. She was a law student studying under me when I became enamored with her, and now I need her in a place of determined strength to take on the county attorney for me. It’s in her nature. “Taytum, I’m going to tell you this once, and I need you to remember it. I love you. Not like the love chatter everyone else banters. Our love. Our way. The way we’ve shared our lives since we first met. Room to breathe. No upper limits. You’re a superstar. We deserve each other.”

“Thanks, Tug,” she murmured. “I needed that.” Then Taytum got down to business. She opened a binder with various sections tagged for easy information retrieval and began sharing her strategy.

My beautiful, blond Taytum remains loyal. If I ever get out of here, I should marry her. I won’t, but I should. I had to meet with a psychologist, Katie Kissner, to get approved for the work crew. She believes I have a “Madonna-whore complex.” While I want to be seen with a woman people put on a pedestal, I desire a sexual partner who has been degraded. The theory originated with Sigmund Freud, who wrote, “Where such men love, they have no desire, and where they desire, they cannot love.” It’s all bullshit.

In the end, everybody hates their lover, for your lover eventually has expectations that weren’t in the initial agreement. I told Deb before we were married my goal was to be the greatest attorney ever. After we were married, she had suggestions for me every year. Being the greatest wasn’t enough. When Taytum finally says, “I love you,” I’ll know we’re at the beginning of the end. At that point, she becomes a disposable product. Lovers think that because they would do anything for you, you should do anything for them. When you think about it, it’s quite self-centered. I don’t fall into the trap. Sure, I’ll say, “I love you.” That doesn’t cost me anything. Other than that, I remain vague, and they work their ass off trying to please me. I do need Taytum—for now.

(1 year later)

10:00 A.M., THURSDAY, DECEMBER 1, 2022

MINNESOTA CORRECTIONAL FACILITY – LINO LAKES

7525 4TH AVENUE, LINO LAKES

IT PAYS TO have friends with influence. My old pal Brent Parker and his wife, Blair,...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 10.12.2024
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Krimi / Thriller / Horror
• ISBN-13: 9798896607984 / 9798896607984