No Need to Talk Pt. 02: Anne

Robert counted to ten before responding. "As I indicated before, your input is not required. But to answer your question, one, Mr. Coleman started the business before he married Anne, so it WAS NOT a marital asset, and two, the divorce petition YOU created and filed was accompanied by a note that made it clear she didn't want any part of it."

Michael turned to me with wide eyes. "You didn't?"

I was confused and starting to get upset. Michael's tone rattled me, and I suddenly felt very defensive. "You always talked down his business. And we had been married for quite a while and you said we might need to, you know, goad him a bit, so I thought dumping on what he had worked so hard on would..." I stopped as I could see everyone staring at me and felt myself start to blush.

"Oh," Michael said, deflated.

"Now, may I continue?" Robert asked. "Good. As for the home... The mortgage insurance claim was filed this morning. Once that process has been completed, whatever balance, including taxes, remains, will be handled by the estate. The title deed will be placed in a family trust to be handled by Mr. William Coleman, Andrew's brother."

"Which means what?" I asked, taken aback at what they were saying about the house I had picked out and decorated and LIVED in.

"Which means that I want you out of that house the second the deed is in the trust," Bill said.

"You're throwing me out?" I asked incredulously.

"You left a long time ago, missy," Bill's mother shot back.

"Next," Robert continued relentlessly. "Once all final expenses are handled, the remains of Mr. Coleman's rather significant estate will be split with three quarters going into a trust for Olivia, and the rest split evenly between William Coleman and his mother. I do not have exact numbers yet, but I know the balance will be more than enough to last the rest of their lives."

"How much was Andrew worth?" I asked, astounded.

"All totaled, just north of $100 million," Robert said. "If you had only waited a month, you would've been a very rich and respectable widow," he added acidly.

"Didn't he leave me with anything?" I asked automatically, feeling as though I had been punched in the gut and utterly bewildered by the number. I hadn't known, hadn't paid attention to any money matters. Andrew took care of those. The credit card bills got paid, that's all I cared about.

"As a matter of fact, he did," Robert said, pulling a small envelope out of his stack. He handed it to me, and I swear he smirked as he did so. I opened the envelope and gasped when I saw the picture of Andrew holding up his middle finger.

"That is specifically in response to Mr. Simpson sending him a picture of the three of you frolicking on the beach in Cancun," Robert added blandly.

"You sent him that picture?" I asked Michael, startled. I had bought into Michael's rationale that we needed to 'defeat' Andrew to get him to roll over and accept the divorce without a nasty, public fight, but that might have been a bit over the top. I had intended to frame that picture and put it on the mantle.

"This is outrageous," Michael boomed as Bill and his mother laughed. The two other men snickered when they saw the photo. "I'll fight this." He must have seen the look on my face because he hastily amended, "WE'LL fight this."

Seeing how agitated Michael was, I was suddenly uncertain about the love he had frequently proclaimed to me. I suddenly wondered if he had known how much Andrew's company would be worth when he was so ardently seducing me.

Then what Robert had said really hit me... hard. If I had just held off, I would be incredibly wealthy, and I wouldn't need Michael to trade up; I would be the UP. I could have anyone I wanted. I suddenly felt nauseous and took a gulp of the water in front of me, noting how my hand was shaking.

"I was actually hoping you'd say something like that, Mr. Simpson," Robert sneered, pulling out another envelope. "You're not going to represent anyone until the State Bar has completed their investigation and reinstated your license. You know how they feel about lawyers representing their lovers. And there are some other issues as well, but those are beyond the purview of this meeting."

"What? When did this happen?" Michael demanded.

"The notice went out yesterday morning. I'm surprised you haven't heard about it before now. Oh, wait - you were busy in Cancun."

"What other issues are you talking about?" Michael asked, concern clear on his face.

"Would you like to address this one?" Robert asked, turning to the other two men.

"Yes, I'd love to," one of the men said as he stood.

"Who are you?" Michael demanded.

"Harlan Jones, State Attorney's Office. This is Lt. Jennings, State Bureau of Investigation. I understand you and Ms. Coleman took a minor child out of the country without her father's prior knowledge and consent. Is that true?"

"Well," Michael stammered.

"Yes, that's true," I said. Michael shot me a look of anger, and I waved it aside. "It's true, and you know it. Everyone knows it. You said it was best for Olivia to break ties with her father as fast as possible."

"But you don't ADMIT it," Michael gritted. "You make them PROVE it."

"Already proved," Mr. Jones interjected happily. "The geolocation tag on the image file you sent from your phone, the manifest of the private jet you flew down on, and observation by individuals on the scene... well those are already in a pretty thick dossier."

Suddenly pale, Michael whirled on me. "But you went along with it," Michael declared.

"Yes, I did," I admitted, not seeing any reason to lie. I was puzzled as to the implications of what should have been just a simple extra-marital vacation. Michael had said they happened all the time in divorces.

"So, you admit that you violated state law regarding parental kidnapping. Which, by the way, is a class D felony in this state, and carries a five-year prison sentence along with a $25,000 fine." Harlan turned to Lt. Jennings. "Would you kindly place these two individuals under arrest, Lieutenant?"

Michael looked for a moment like he would lunge for the voice recorder, probably to smash it, but the hulking Jennings took a quick step forward as Robert whisked the recorder off the table.

"Gladly," the large lieutenant said as he walked to where we sat. "Please stand, turn around, and place your hands behind your back."

I had no choice but to follow his order. I felt the handcuffs bite into my wrists as the lieutenant read my rights. With tears falling down my face, I turned to Robert.

"What about Olivia? Who will take care of her?"

"Andrew's brother, William," Robert said. "The guardianship papers have already been filled out and filed with the court. As of now, he is her legal guardian."

"No," I cried. This can't be happening. It wasn't supposed to go this way. My life was supposed to get better. I was supposed to be marrying Michael and trading up. Now, I've lost everything. My husband, my daughter, my future, all that money!

The lieutenant cuffed Michael and started to lead us out of the room, but Andrew's mother stood in front of the door. With a look of hatred I have never seen before, she slapped my face so hard I saw stars and tasted blood in my mouth.

"Drew loved you with everything in his heart, and you shit all over him while he was dying. I hope you rot in HELL, bitch!" the older woman bellowed.

"Did any of you see anything?" the lieutenant asked calmly. Everyone sneered as they shook their heads. "Neither did I. Let's go," he commanded.

"Can I at least see my daughter first?" I asked, panic-stricken, scared of what they would tell her.

"Not at this time, ma'am," the lieutenant replied. He pushed us through the office, and everyone could see that Michael and I were both in handcuffs. Everyone except Olivia, that is. I was grateful for that. I knew better, now, than to say anything in the presence of the lieutenant, so I kept quiet, hoping that Michael could get us out of this but having a really bad feeling.

They crammed both of us in the back of a black SUV, then drove to the jail, where we were split up and processed. I never felt so humiliated in my entire life. Two hours later, I was dressed in an awful orange jumpsuit and placed in a holding cell, where I was forced to wait for what seemed like forever.

A female deputy came to the cell and called my name. Looking at the clock, I realized I had been there for over six hours.

"You have a visitor," the deputy said, placing my wrists in handcuffs. "You're not going to give me any trouble, are you?"

"No," I said quietly. She was big and reminded me of the house mother at boarding school, a woman not to be crossed.

"Good. Because I'd hate to place you in chains. But I will if I have to. Let's go."

I followed the deputy to a small room, where I was chained to a table. A minute later, a man walked into the room - John Hultner, an attorney with the North End Law Group, and one of Michael's friends. He placed his briefcase on the table and sat next to me.

"How are you, Anne?" he asked.

"I've been better, John. Thank you for being here. I was afraid I might've been forced to have a public defender."

"Michael called and asked me to represent you. Our partner, Sam Gregory, has agreed to represent him," John said.

"I don't know how I'll be able to pay you for this," I told him in a small voice.

"Don't worry about that right now. Let's just take things one day at a time. I haven't had a chance to go through the state's whole case, but what I've seen so far doesn't look too good. Did you have a custody order signed by a judge when you took Olivia out of the country?"

"No, I didn't. I left Andrew a copy of the divorce papers. He was officially served the next day."

"No custody order? No restraining order?" John asked.

"No," I repeated.

He sighed, shaking his head. "That could be a real problem. Look, the state attorney will be here in a couple of minutes to go over some things with you. I'll be here with you for that. Be honest with him. Answer his questions, but don't volunteer anything. Understand?"

"I understand. Can you get me out of here?"

"I'll do what I can, but the state has frozen your assets and they view you and Michael as flight risks. They're pushing hard to have you remanded in custody until the trial is over."

"Can I see Olivia?" I asked in desperation.

"I don't know, but we'll try to arrange visitation."

The door opened and Harlan Jones entered. With him was the woman I saw at Robert's office, Jennifer, and another woman pulling a wheeled contraption with a large box.

"Harlan Jones, State Attorney's office. And you are..."

"John Hultner. I'll be representing Ms. Coleman in this matter," John said, shaking Harlan's hand.

"Good. This is Jennifer Hawkins, Child Protective Services, and Melissa Cantrell, also with the State Attorney's Office. Let's get to it, shall we?"

We took our seats at the table, and John opened his briefcase as Melissa opened the large box. She handed a thick folder to John.

"That's your copy of our case file so far," Harlan said. He placed a tape in the audio recorder and began the recording. "I know you've been Mirandized, Ms. Coleman. Could you please state your name and date of birth for the recording?"

John nodded his head, and I did as Harlan asked.

"Thank you. I know you've already admitted violating state law regarding parental abduction..."

"I made no such admission," I said curtly, cutting him off. "I admitted taking my daughter on vacation to Cancun. You assumed I admitted to violating the law. Get a copy of Mr. Horton's recording if you wish."

"Very well," Harlan said, taken aback by my outburst. John smiled before saying anything.

"I'd like to have a copy of that recording as well," he said.

"I'll see to it," Harlan replied before turning back to me. "So, you're going to do this the hard way. That's fine by me. Let's start with a few questions to establish the facts, shall we? Do you have a custody order signed by a judge?"

"No, I do not," I told him.

"Do you have a restraining order or an order of protection keeping your now-deceased husband away from you, your minor daughter, or your marital home?"

"No, I do not," I repeated.

"At any time prior to leaving, did you seek out your husband's permission to take your minor daughter out of the country for a month?"

"No."

"Prior to the day you left, did you inform your husband that you intended to divorce him?"

"I did not."

"Did you discuss this vacation with anyone other than your husband?"

"Yes," I said. Harlan looked at me, waiting for more information, but I volunteered nothing.

"Who did you discuss this with, Ms. Coleman?"

"Michael Simpson. And my mother," I said.

"Why your mother?"

"I asked her to watch Olivia while I broke the news to Andrew."

"Did you explain your intent to her?"

"Yes," I said quietly. Harlan nodded his head.

"Why did you deny Mr. Coleman access to his daughter?"

"Michael said it would be easier on him and Olivia if all contact was ended immediately."

"I see. I know you filed for divorce. Were you planning to interfere with Mr. Coleman's visitation?"

"Don't answer that," John told me. "Please stick to the established facts, Mr. Jones."

"Established facts. All right, Mr. Hultner. Ms. Coleman, who funded your vacation to Cancun? It had to have cost a considerable amount to spend 30 days in a five-star beach resort."

"One of Michael's business contacts in South America," I said.

"This man?" Harlan asked, placing a photo of a man in a fedora with dark glasses.

"Possibly. I don't know, exactly. Michael has contacts all over the world."

"Do you know who this man is?" Harlan asked.

"Julio something. I don't remember, exactly."

"His name is Julio Cabrera. He's a well-known child trafficker involved in, shall we say, illegal adult material."

"Wait a minute," John burst out before Harlan cut him off. My heart started hammering in my chest. This had gone from embarrassing and miserable to lethal in a single sentence. I felt light-headed.

"This man was spotted entering your hotel room several times over the course of your 'vacation,' Ms. Coleman. We have photos with date and time stamps. You were also photographed having dinner and drinks with this man. Did you know what this man is involved with when you danced with him?"

I was so stunned that I couldn't form an answer. And I couldn't very well admit we met Julio to arrange a fallback plan in case Andrew decided to fight the divorce. John spoke up for me.

"What are you alleging, Mr. Jones?"

"I'm alleging that this little jaunt to Cancun was much more than an innocent vacation by two lovers looking to have a little fun in the sun, Mr. Hultner. Ms. Hawkins, would you care to join the conversation?"

"Of course," Jennifer said. "Ms. Coleman, I had the pleasure of speaking with your daughter earlier. She's a very bright young lady."

"Yes, she is," I bragged. "I think she gets that from her father."

"She told me some interesting stories about your vacation. She loved spending time on the beach and meeting different people. She also told me you gave her something to help her sleep on several nights."

"Olivia has suffered from post-nasal drip for some time now," I explained. "I gave her some children's Benadryl to help." Suddenly, a plastic bag with a small bottle of liquid appeared on the table.

"Would that be from this bottle, Ms. Coleman?" Harlan asked.

"Maybe. I don't know."

"We found it in your luggage. Your fingerprints are all over it. Do you know what's in this?" Harlan followed up.

"I'm not a chemist, so no, I don't," I offered.

"Fortunately, we have chemists in our lab, and they were able to tell us what was in the bottle. Yes, it contains everything one would expect to find in Children's Benadryl. But it's also laced with Rohypnol," Harlan said.

"I took Olivia to the hospital after you were arrested and had blood work done on her," Jennifer said. "They found traces of that in her blood system.

"Private investigators hired to watch you in Cancun documented several evenings when you and Mr. Simpson left the hotel room without Olivia. On those occasions, the two of you were observed drinking, dancing, and having a generally good time while leaving your daughter in your room alone.

"It's only speculation on my part, but I suspect you dosed your daughter so she would be sound asleep while you were out having fun. To be honest, I'm surprised your little cocktail didn't kill her.

"Because of that, I'm recommending to the court that the guardianship of Olivia be permanently transferred to Mr. William Coleman, and I am recommending charges of child neglect, endangerment, and abuse against you," Jennifer said.

"I need to confer with my client and review all the 'evidence' you've obtained so far before we go any further," John said interrupted sternly, but his face was red.

"I think that would be wise, counselor," Harlan said. "Here is my card in case you wish to discuss a plea deal. Don't wait too long." John took Harlan's card and slipped it into his pocket. He waited for Harlan and the two women to leave before turning to me. He looked very agitated, like he was controlling himself with a great effort.

"Anne, you need to level with me if you want my help," John said firmly. "Is there any truth in their allegations? Any at all?"

"Look, John. I'm not proud of some of the things I've done lately. Yes, we went to Cancun in part to meet with a man who offered to help... leverage... Andrew in case he fought the divorce. But I had no idea he was into child trafficking. Michael has contacts all over the world, and yes, he admitted some of his clients are a little on the... sleazy side. But I didn't know about this.

"And yes, I gave Olivia Benadryl to help with her sinuses. But I had no idea it had been spiked. I was surprised when she fell asleep so fast. It usually takes her a little while. After she had gone to sleep, Michael and I slipped out of the room, but we made sure the door was locked, and we felt she would be safe until we returned."

"My God, Anne. How could you be so stupid?" John scolded. "Leaving Olivia alone in a hotel room in a foreign country? Plotting against your husband with a child trafficker? If this gets in front of a jury, your goose isn't well and truly cooked, it's incinerated!

"Just having that stuff can get you three to five years in prison. Giving it to a child? You might as well cancel Christmas forever in this state. And what do you think the Mexican authorities would have done if they had caught you with Rohypnol?"

"I didn't know it was THERE!" I spit out, then caught myself. "What do I do?" I begged.

"Let me go over everything they have so far. Our best shot is to keep this out of court as much as possible. You'll end up in prison - that's a certainty. The only thing we can do is minimize the time you'll spend behind bars."

"I'm scared, John," I cried. "I didn't want any of this."

"No, I don't imagine you did. But you'd better be telling me the truth."

"I am, John. Promise," I told him.

"All right. Let me see what I can do," he said, putting everything in his briefcase. "I'll be in touch. You stay out of trouble." He got to the door and called for the guard, who came into the room and unshackled me from the table.

The guard let me quietly back to my holding cell. When we got to the main area, I noticed quite a few prisoners looking at me with disgust. I didn't understand why as I had done nothing to anyone here and asked the guard when she put me in my cell.

"You haven't seen the news, have you?" the guard asked, seeming to be mildly amused.

"No, I haven't." The guard turned the television on to a news channel where a panel was discussing my case. One of those on the panel was a local newspaper writer, who said she had interviewed Andrew before he died.