Honey and Leonard Page 3

  "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.

  * * *

  "I'm innocent," Honey said, trying to be brave as she swung open the front door to usher the forty-two-year-old attorney into her home. It was a little after noon. "Thank you for coming so quickly and on such short notice."

  "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 m
e 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?"

  "If it's the press, don't say anything," Nimmo said as he followed her to the door.

  Honey opened the door to find herself staring into a television news camera with a reporter saying, "I'm Andrew Lockner from WTHR in Indianapolis. Any comment on the poisoning of Leonard Atkins?"

  Before her attorney could intercede, Honey launched into what sounded like a well-prepared response. "Leonard Atkins has not been poisoned. He's my good friend and I ought to know. I'm Honey Waldrop and I most certainly have done nothing wrong. I love Leonard, and now they won't even let me go see him. There are people who are after his money and they want me out of the way."

  "Who's after his money?" the reporter asked.

  Attorney Nimmo managed to get between Honey and the reporter and said, "I think that will be more than enough for today. Ms. Waldrop is my client and she has nothing further to say."

  "Have murder charges been filed against your client?"

  "No charges have been filed," Nimmo said as he hustled Honey back inside her house.

  "Did I say too much?" she asked once they sat back down.

  "Way, way, way too much."

  "Why can't I tell my side of the story?"

  Nimmo tried to be patient as he explained, "If you go on camera about how innocent you are it almost makes the prosecutor file charges just to prove their search was justified."

  "Would they do that?"

  "Probably not just to prove a point. But the more this thing gets in the public eye, the harder it will be to make it go away. I don't know if you noticed those reporters are from Indianapolis. That's the state capital, a hundred miles away. This story is obviously catching fire and you, my dear, only fan the flames with your comments."

  Three

  HONEY WAS GETTING READY for bed when she heard someone knocking on her front door. It was after 9 p.m., but it could still be another reporter. In the three days since the story broke, she had been approached by all kinds of media people. The story had struck a vibrant chord in the romantic soul of the heartland. Even The Chicago Tribune dispatched a reporter to get the inside story of the elderly lovebirds in trouble with the law. Ignoring the advice of legal counsel, Honey had let the Tribune reporter in to proclaim her innocence and her undying love for Leonard.

  As the knocking on her door continued, she knew it wasn't a reporter. That knock was more than familiar. That was a "shave and a hair cut, two bits" knock. She knew who was on the other side of her door before she unlocked it.

  "Leonard," she gushed as he took her into his arms. He was barefoot and still in his pajamas. "What on earth are you doing here? How did you get out? Where are your shoes?"

  "Piece of cake," he said as he kissed her hard on the lips and hugged her tightly around the waist. "Bed check is at nine and my room is on the first floor. They don't lock the windows. No one will know I'm gone until breakfast."

  "Did you forget your shoes?"

  "No, they make too much noise. I didn't want to go clip clopping down the sidewalk."

  "Get in here before anyone sees you."

  Leonard stumbled and had to catch himself on a chair as he came into the living room.

  "What's the matter?" Honey asked. Leonard was not a clumsy man.

  "Oh, I'm sorry, Honey. They've been drugging me up pretty bad in there. They keep making me take pills I don't even know what they are. I think they're putting something in my cottage cheese. It doesn't taste right and they serve it with every meal, even breakfast. I'm telling you, I had to get out of there. And I had to see you."

  "You are a sight for sore eyes," Honey said. "You look a little tired but you're still your same old handsome self. You know they won't even let me come see you? They're still saying I poisoned you." Honey paused and helped him into an upholstered armchair. She held his head in her hands and put her nose to his nose, "What are we going to do now? If you're on the run and I let you into my house, that makes us both fugitives."

  "Oh, no, I know. I don't want to get you in trouble."

  "Too late for that," Honey said. "I've been in trouble with you since our first kiss at the Halloween benefit party for the United Way. Remember how you danced us behind the pillar and took my breath away?"

  "Like it was yesterday. You came as Marie Antoinette and I came as a scarecrow. It wasn't even a date. We met at the party. We spent a lot of money that night trying to out-donate each other."

  "It was for a good cause," Honey said, kissing him again.

  "What do we say?" Leonard prompted.

  "Love is grand," they said together.

  "I never knew it could be this good," Leonard said as he kissed her again. "And you always taste so good."

  "I just brushed my teeth," Honey laughed. "Lucky for you."

  Leonard laughed with her and then fell silent.

  "What are we going to do, sweetie?" Honey asked.

  "I've been thinking a lot these last few days. I don't like what they've done to us, keeping us apart and all. It's not right. It feels like the police have taken over the world. This never would have happened in the old days."

  Honey waited for him to continue.

  "Your lawyer came to see me a couple days ago. Nice guy, good dresser, but he says this mess could take weeks to clear up. I'm not ready to wait that long. So, I've been thinking. Maybe it's time you and I take a little trip."

  Honey gasped in amazement, "I've been thinking the same thing. I'm tired of people telling me what to do. I'm sick to death of this little town. I can't even go shopping anymore without people looking at me like I'm some kind of criminal. Even Doty doesn't want to go out with me. Besides, I've been stuck here since 1946. I'd say that's more than long enough."

  "You know we're going to have to leave the country because of all this legal mess," Leonard said. "We need to go someplace where they can't find us."

&nb
sp; "They can't find you incompetent if they can't find you at all," Honey said.

  "Let's go to France," Leonard said. "I always wanted to go there. My friends went there because of the war, but I couldn’t go because I had to stay home and farm."

  "Let's go to Paris and kiss on the top of the Eifel Tower!" Honey nearly shouted.

  Leonard kissed her like they were already there. Then he released her, took a full step back and said, "Now, wait a minute. Before we really do this, we'd better talk it over. We could both end up in jail."

  "I'm starting to feel like this little town is nothing but one big prison cell. The last time a man swept me off my feet I ended up in North Manchester, Indiana. It wasn't romantic at all. I didn't know anybody. The doctor was working around the clock. We never had children and everybody always thought we were strange for not adopting. I worked my tail off to become a leader of this community and look what little thanks I get for all my efforts. They're trying to throw me in jail, for Heaven's sake.

  "So, I don't see what's to talk over at this point. I want to get swept off my feet and end up in Paris with the man of my dreams. This is obviously my last chance for romance. I say let's do it. I've been playing it safe my whole life and look what it's gotten me. I've got half the population of a small city pointing fingers at me behind my back. I'm more than ready for a change of scenery."

  "This is a pretty important decision for us to make on the spur of the moment like this," Leonard said.

  "Oh, no," Honey laughed. "This decision has been a long time coming."

  * * *

  By 3 a.m. that morning, Honey and Leonard were on the interstate and headed for the Indianapolis International Airport. It had taken them several hours to get on the road. They had some emotional catching up to do. For starters, they took a steamy shower together. Leonard needed a little freshening to get rid of the nursing home smell. They both got wet removing each other's clothes. As the shower washed away their troubles, he sang "Stardust" to her, word for word and note for note, as she washed him playfully. He was a good singer. She hugged him. It felt perfect to have him back. The legal consequences of leaving the country and becoming a fugitive with him barely crossed her mind.