Chapter 6 - An ICU Nurse Does Not Flinch
The following Monday, I drove fifty miles west to Portland to meet with the regional prosecutor handling the federal wildlife case.
The federal building was a sterile, limestone block with metal detectors, gray industrial carpets, and fluorescent fixtures that flickered with that familiar, soul-sucking hum I had lived under for thirty years. I didn't feel out of place. If anything, the sterile government air felt like home.
Assistant U.S. Attorney Marcus Reed was a wiry man in his forties with rolled-up sleeves and three empty paper coffee cups lined up on his desk. Warden Miller was sitting in a chair beside him, his green Stetson hat resting on his knee.
"Mrs. Smallwood," Reed said, rising to shake my hand with a firm, dry grip. "Thank you for coming in. I know this can’t be easy for you, considering your son is named in the complaint."
"Let's not make assumptions about what is easy for me, Mr. Reed," I said, taking the wooden armchair across from him. "My son made his decisions as an adult. I spent thirty years keeping people alive who made terrible choices. You treat the condition; you don't weep over the diagnosis."
Reed smiled faintly, nodding at Warden Miller. "Told you she wouldn't flinch."
"Here’s where we stand," Reed said, laying out several glossy eight-by-ten photographs on the desk.
The first photograph was an ultra-high-definition capture from the wildlife camera. The night-vision lens had illuminated the scene with crystal clarity: Lorna Price was holding a garden spade, her face twisted in an ugly grin, while Sienna stood nearby illuminated by the glow of her smartphone, recording the act for some twisted private triumph. Evan was in the background, holding a yellow DeWalt flashlight directly over the nesting enclosure.
"The Fish and Wildlife forensics unit matched the tread from the bagged sandals precisely to the impression that crushed egg number four," Reed explained. "There is zero doubt. Furthermore, we recovered the broken pieces of the warning sign from a drainage culvert half a mile down the road. Evan’s fingerprints are all over the wood."
"And the financial side?" I asked.
Reed pulled another folder forward. "Delaware Department of Justice and the FDIC have stepped in. Miss Price’s loan application was flagrantly fraudulent. She used a forged deed, a fake appraisal, and claimed your cottage had an assessed value of 1.8 million dollars to secure a four-hundred-thousand-dollar line of credit. Evan’s signature is on the corporate filings as secretary-treasurer."
"Will he go to prison?" I asked. The question was cold, clean, and clinical.
Reed looked at me closely, searching my face for any hint of maternal collapse. Finding none, he answered plainly. "Evan has an out, Mrs. Smallwood. But it requires him to make a choice."
"What choice?"
"He can turn state’s evidence," Reed said. "If he provides sworn testimony regarding the bank fraud scheme orchestrated by Sienna and her mother, and if he pleads guilty to a misdemeanor count under the Endangered Species Act with five hundred hours of community service and twenty-five thousand dollars in restitution, we will decline to pursue federal felony indictments against him personally."
"And Sienna?"
"Sienna and Lorna are looking at felony conspiracy, wire fraud, bank fraud, and federal wildlife violations," Reed said. "They are looking at four to six years in federal prison. Minimum."
I looked down at the photograph of my son holding the yellow flashlight.
I remembered him at seven years old, holding that same flashlight in our damp basement while I tried to patch a leaking pipe with epoxy because we couldn't afford a plumber. I remembered him looking up at me with those wide, trusting eyes, saying, *'We fixed it, Mom.'*
Now, he was thirty-two, and he had used that same light to help two predators steal his mother’s sanctuary.
"Offer him the deal," I said quietly.
Reed blinked. "Just like that?"
May you like
"Evan has spent the last five years letting other people think for him," I said, picking up my purse. "He let Sienna choose his clothes, his friends, his career moves, and his morals. It’s time for him to make an adult choice. If he chooses to go down with the ship to protect his pride, that is his right. But give him the papers. Let him see the bill."
***
