The attorney
representing Jennifer Dulos’ mother expects to soon receive the title to
the home at 4 Jefferson Crossing in Farmington.
FARMINGTON — The one-time property empire owned by Fotis
Dulos and his high-end real estate company is being dismantled by
foreclosure proceedings as his estate makes its way through probate
court.
Fotis Dulos died Jan. 30 from an apparent suicide while
facing murder and other charges in connection with his estranged wife’s
death and disappearance. Jennifer Dulos was last seen on May 24, 2019
and has been presumed dead based on blood evidence found in the garage
of her New Canaan home, according to arrest warrants.
Attorney Richard Weinstein, representing Jennifer Dulos’ mother, expects
to have the title to the 14,000-square-foot Jefferson Crossing property
in Farmington by late July.
Jennifer and Fotis Dulos lived in the home until June 2017 when she
left with their five children for New Canaan and filed for divorce.
Fotis Dulos remained in the home with his former
girlfriend, Michelle Troconis, and her daughter. At the time of his
death, Fotis Dulos had not made mortgage payments for about a year,
Weinstein said.
Weinstein said he will put the house up for sale once he
receives the title. He expects a judge to grant him the title as soon as
this week, but there will then be a 20-day appeal period.
Gloria Farber moved to foreclose on the house last year
as Fotis Dulos was the prime suspect in the death and disappearance of
her daughter.
Five other properties owned by Fotis Dulos are also in foreclosure proceedings, court records show.
A Superior Court judge recently awarded Farber nearly $2 million in two lawsuits
she filed against Fotis Dulos on claims he failed to repay her family
business loans made to him while he was married to her daughter.
Attorney Kent Mawhinney, who at one point represented
Fotis Dulos in the lawsuits, and Troconis have each been charged with
conspiracy to commit murder in the Jennifer Dulos case. Troconis also
faces tampering with evidence and hindering prosecution charges.
The estate of Fotis Dulos is now in probate court as
Farber raises the couple’s five children. The items owned by the Dulos
children that were still in the Jefferson Crossing house were retrieved
last week, Weinstein said.
Troconis had also filed paperwork with the probate court in Farmington to retrieve her personal property from the home.
Hartford Superior Court Judge Cesar Noble agreed Thursday
to allow Farber to receive $25,000 from the estate in legal fees for
bringing forward one of the lawsuits, which claimed Fotis Dulos stopped
paying a $500,000 loan that was used to help build the Jefferson
Crossing house.
People’s Bank has started foreclosure proceedings on
three other Farmington properties owned by the Fore Group at 80, 84 and
88 Mountain Spring Road, court records show. Harry Masiello, a longtime
friend of Fotis Dulos who loaned him $600,000 in 2017, is now
foreclosing on an Avon property at 585 Deercliff Road, which is just a
few hundred feet from the Jefferson Crossing home.
The Savings Bank of Danbury started foreclosure
proceedings in late 2019 on a Sturbridge Hill Road home in New Canaan
that Fore Group had developed and planned to sell.
Farber and Masiello are named as defendants in several of
the foreclosures since they have liens on the properties. The
properties at 80, 84 and 88 Mountain Spring also have a $6 million lien
placed by a bail bond agent who signed off on the $6 million bond that
released Fotis Dulos from prison in January when he was charged with
murder.
The probate court is still working on “sensitive issues”
as the estate is finalized, Weinstein said. All money remaining from the
probate process will go to the children who have been in Farber’s care
since their mother disappeared, Weinstein said.
The Senate Aging Committee Opens a New Window.
heard testimony Wednesday from witnesses and government officials
explaining the impact of criminals that are unseen – but heard – over
phone lines.
Sen. Susan Collins, R-Maine, noted last year that robocallers generated 26 billion unwanted calls reaching Americans’ mobile phones Opens a New Window. .
She said adding landline outreach grows that number to 48 billion calls.
One
of those people on the other line was Marjorie Jones, an 82-year-old
woman who committed suicide after giving up her life's savings to phone
scammers.
“They
told her she had won a large cash prize, and all she had to do was pay
the taxes and fees,” Angela Stancik, Jones’ granddaughter, explained to
lawmakers.
Stancik said she realized her grandmother was a victim of elder fraud in the last conversation she had with her.
She
needed $6,000 “as soon as possible,” and was desperate. The family
could never think of a time she needed to borrow money in the past.
“I could hear the panic in her voice, and she was very very afraid.”
Stancik’s
father had just wired $8,000 the week prior. He thought someone was
scamming her, but given her tone, he wired the $6,000.
Jones killed herself a week later.
“It is clear to us that the circumstances that led to her death were caused by these criminals,” Stancik said through tears.
Her
grandmother had bags of receipts in her closet that showed the money
sent to unknown accounts, took out a second mortgage on her home,
drained her life savings and cashed out all of her life insurance.
Federal authorities busted the elder fraud ring
last year, when then-Attorney General Jeff Sessions said the victims
targeted more than 1 million people living in the U.S.
A six-month investigation by KHN and PBS NewsHour
finds that older Americans are quietly killing themselves in nursing
homes, assisted living centers and adult care homes.
When Larry Anders moved into the Bay at Burlington nursing home in
late 2017, he wasn’t supposed to be there long. At 77, the stoic
Wisconsin machinist had just endured the death of his wife of 51 years
and a grim new diagnosis: throat cancer, stage 4.
His son and daughter expected him to stay two weeks, tops, before
going home to begin chemotherapy. From the start, they were alarmed by
the lack of care at the center, where, they said, staff seemed
indifferent, if not incompetent — failing to check on him promptly,
handing pills to a man who couldn’t swallow.
Anders never mentioned suicide to his children, who camped out day and night by his bedside to monitor his care.
But two days after Christmas, alone in his nursing home room, Anders killed himself. He didn’t leave a note.
The act stunned his family. His daughter, Lorie Juno, 50, was so
distressed that, a year later, she still refused to learn the details of
her father’s death. The official cause was asphyxiation.
“It’s sad he was feeling in such a desperate place in the end,” Juno said.
In a nation where suicide continues to climb, claiming more than 47,000 lives in 2017, such deaths among older adults — including the 2.2 million
who live in long-term care settings — are often overlooked. A six-month
investigation by Kaiser Health News and PBS NewsHour finds that older
Americans are quietly killing themselves in nursing homes, assisted
living centers and adult care homes.
Poor documentation makes it difficult to tell exactly how often such
deaths occur. But a KHN analysis of new data from the University of
Michigan suggests that hundreds of suicides by older adults each year —
nearly one per day — are related to long-term care. Thousands more
people may be at risk in those settings, where up to a third of
residents report suicidal thoughts, research shows.
Each suicide results from a unique blend of factors, of course. But
the fact that frail older Americans are managing to kill themselves in
what are supposed to be safe, supervised havens raises questions about
whether these facilities pay enough attention to risk factors like
mental health, physical decline and disconnectedness — and events such
as losing a spouse or leaving one’s home. More controversial is whether
older adults in those settings should be able to take their lives
through what some fiercely defend as “rational suicide.”
Tracking suicides in long-term care is difficult. No federal
regulations require reporting of such deaths and most states either
don’t count — or won’t divulge — how many people end their own lives in
those settings.
Briana Mezuk, an associate professor of epidemiology at the University of Michigan, found in 2015
that the rate of suicide in older adults in nursing homes in Virginia
was nearly the same as the rate in the general population, despite the
greater supervision the facilities provide.
In research they presented at the 2018 Gerontological Society of
America annual meeting, Mezuk’s team looked at nearly 50,000 suicides
among people 55 and older in the National Violent Death Reporting System
(NVDRS) from 2003 to 2015 in 27 states. They found that 2.2% of those
suicides were related to long-term care. The people who died were either
people living in or transitioning to long-term care, or caregivers of
people in those circumstances.
Briana Mezuk(Courtesy of University of Michigan School of Public Health)
KHN extrapolated the finding to the entire U.S., where 16,500
suicides were reported among people 55 and older in 2017, according to
federal figures. That suggests that at least 364 suicides a year occur
among people living in or moving to long-term care settings, or among
their caregivers. The numbers are likely higher, Mezuk said, since the
NVDRS data did not include such states as California and Florida, which
have large populations of elders living in long-term care sites.
But representatives of the long-term care industry point out that by any measure, such suicides are rare.
The deaths are “horrifically tragic” when they occur, said Dr. David
Gifford, of the American Health Care Association. But, he added, the
facilities offer “a very supervised environment,” and settings that
receive Medicare or Medicaid funding are required to assess and monitor
patients for suicidal behavior.
“I think the industry is pretty attuned to it and paying attention to
it,” Gifford said, noting that mental health issues among older adults
in general must be addressed. “I don’t see this data as pointing to a
problem in the facilities.”
KHN examined over 500 attempted and completed suicides in long-term
care settings from 2012 to 2017 by analyzing thousands of death records,
medical examiner reports, state inspections, court cases and incident
reports.
Even in supervised settings, records show, older people find ways to
end their own lives. Many used guns, sometimes in places where firearms
weren’t allowed or should have been securely stored. Others hanged
themselves, jumped from windows, overdosed on pills or suffocated
themselves with plastic bags. (The analysis did not examine medical
aid-in-dying, a rare and restricted method by which people who are
terminally ill and mentally competent can get a doctor’s prescription
for lethal drugs. That is legal only in seven states and the District of Columbia.)
Descriptions KHN unearthed in public records shed light on residents’
despair: Some told nursing home staff they were depressed or lonely;
some felt that their families had abandoned them or that they had
nothing to live for. Others said they had just lived long enough: “I am
too old to still be living,” one patient told staff. In some cases,
state inspectors found nursing homes to blame for failing to heed
suicidal warning signs or evicting patients who tried to kill
themselves.
A better understanding is crucial: Experts agree that late-life suicide is an under-recognized problem that is poised to grow.
By 2030, all baby boomers will be older than 65 and 1 in 5 U.S. residents will be of retirement age, according to census data. Of those who reach 65, two-thirds can expect to need some type of long-term care. And, for poorly understood reasons, that generation has had higher rates
of suicide at every stage, said Dr. Yeates Conwell, director of the
Office for Aging Research and Health Services at the University of
Rochester.
“The rise in rates in people in middle age is going to be carried with them into older adulthood,” he said.
Long-term care settings could be a critical place to intervene to
avert suicide — and to help people find meaning, purpose and quality of
life, Mezuk argued: “There’s so much more that can be done. It would be
hard for us to be doing less.”
‘In A Desperate Place’
In Wisconsin, Larry Anders’ children chose to speak publicly because they felt the nursing home failed their father.
Anders, a taciturn Army veteran, lived a low-key retirement in
Waukesha, outside of Milwaukee. He grew asparagus, watched “Wheel of
Fortune” with his wife, Lorna, in matching blue recliners and played the
slot machines at a Chinese restaurant.
Following the November 2017 death of his wife, and his throat cancer
diagnosis, he initially refused treatment, but then agreed to give it a
try.
Anders landed at the Bay at Burlington, 40 minutes from his home, the
closest facility his Medicare Advantage plan would cover. The first
day, Lorie Juno grew worried when no one came to greet her father after
the ambulance crew wheeled him to his room. The room had no hand
sanitizer and the sink had no hot water.
In his week in the Burlington, Wis., center, Anders wrestled with
anxiety and insomnia. Anders, who rarely complained, called his daughter
in a panic around 2 a.m. one day, saying that he couldn’t sleep and
that “they don’t know what the hell they’re doing here,” according to
Juno. When she called, staff assured her that Anders had just had a
“snack,” which she knew wasn’t true because he ate only through a
feeding tube.
His children scrambled to transfer him elsewhere, but they ran out of
time. On Dec. 27, Mike Anders, 48, woke up in an armchair next to his
father’s bed after spending the night. He left for his job as a
machinist between 5 and 6 a.m. At 6:40 a.m., Larry Anders was found dead
in his room.
“I firmly believe that had he had better care, it would’ve been a different ending,” Mike Anders said.
Research shows events like losing a spouse and a new cancer diagnosis put people at higher risk of suicide, but close monitoring requires resources that many facilities don’t have.
“It’s sad he was feeling in such a desperate place in the end,” says
Lorie Juno of her father, Larry Anders.(Darren Hauck for KHN)
Larry Anders, a machinist and an Army veteran, enjoyed growing
asparagus and playing slot machines.(Darren Hauck for KHN)
“I firmly believe that had he had better care, it would’ve
been a
different ending,” says Mike Anders of his father, Larry Anders. (Darren Hauck for KHN)
Nursing homes already struggle
to provide enough staffing for basic care. Assisted living centers that
promote independence and autonomy can miss warning signs of suicide
risk, experts warn.
In the weeks before and after Anders’ death, state inspectors found a
litany of problems at the facility, including staffing shortages. When
inspectors found a patient lying on the floor, they couldn’t locate any
staff in the unit to help.
Champion Care, the New York firm that runs the Bay at Burlington and
other Wisconsin nursing homes, noted that neither police nor state
health officials found staff at fault in Anders’ death.
Merely having a suicide on-site does not mean a nursing home broke
federal rules. But in some suicides KHN reviewed, nursing homes were
penalized for failing to meet requirements for federally funded
facilities, such as maintaining residents’ well-being, preventing
avoidable accidents and telling a patient’s doctor and family if they
are at risk of harm.
For example:
An 81-year-old architect fatally shot himself while his roommate was
nearby in their shared room in a Massachusetts nursing home in 2016.
The facility was fined $66,705.
A 95-year-old World War II pilot hanged himself in an Ohio nursing
home in 2016, six months after a previous attempt in the same location.
The facility was fined $42,575.
An 82-year-old former aircraft mechanic, who had a history of
suicidal ideation, suffocated himself with a plastic bag in a
Connecticut nursing home in 2015. The facility was fined $1,020.
Prevention needs to start long before these deaths occur, with
thorough screenings upon entry to the facilities and ongoing monitoring,
Conwell said. The main risk factors for senior suicide are what he
calls “the four D’s”: depression, debility, access to deadly means and
disconnectedness.
“Pretty much all of the factors that we associate with completed
suicide risk are going to be concentrated in long-term care,” Conwell
said.
Most seniors who choose to end their lives don’t talk about it in advance, and they often die on the first attempt, he said.
‘I Choose This “Shortcut”’
That was the case for the Rev. Milton P. Andrews Jr., a former
Seattle pastor, who “gave no hint” he wanted to end his life six years
ago at a Wesley Homes retirement center in nearby Des Moines, Wash.
Neither his son, Paul Andrews, nor the staff at the center had any
suspicions, they said.
“My father was an infinitely deliberate person,” said Paul Andrews,
69, a retired Seattle journalist. “There’s no way once he decided his
own fate that he was going to give a clue about it, since that would
have defeated the whole plan.”
At 90, the Methodist minister and human rights activist had a long
history of making what he saw as unpopular but morally necessary
decisions. He drew controversy in the pulpit in the 1950s for inviting
African Americans into his Seattle sanctuary. He opposed the Vietnam War
and was arrested for protesting nuclear armament. His daughter was once
called a “pinko” because Andrews demanded equal time on a local radio
station to rebut a conservative broadcaster.
In 2013, facing a possible second bout of congestive heart failure
and the decline of his beloved wife, Ruth, who had dementia, Andrews
made his final decision. On Valentine’s Day, he took a handful of
sleeping pills, pulled a plastic bag over his head and died.
Milton Andrews wrote a goodbye note on the cover of his laptop computer in bold, black marker.
“Fare-well! I am ready to die! I choose this ‘shortcut,’” it read in
part. “I love you all, and do not wish a long, protracted death — with
my loved ones waiting for me to die.”
Retired
Seattle minister Milt Andrews, 90, ended his life on
Valentine’s Day
2013 at his assisted living center, leaving behind
a note written in
black marker on the cover of his laptop computer. (Dan DeLong for KHN)
Christine Tremain, a spokeswoman for Wesley Homes, said Andrews’
death has been the only suicide reported in her 18 years at the center.
“Elder suicide is an issue that we take seriously and work to prevent
through the formal and informal support systems that we have in place,”
she said.
At first, Paul Andrews said he was shocked, devastated and even angry about his dad’s death. Now, he just misses him.
“I always feel like he was gone too soon, even though I don’t think he felt like that at all,” he said.
Andrews has come to believe that elderly people should be able to decide when they’re ready to die.
“I think it’s a human right,” he said. “If you go out when you’re
still functioning and still have the ability to choose, that may be the
best way to do it and not leave it to other people to decide.”
Paul
Andrews was shocked when his father, the Rev. Milton P.
Andrews Jr.,
died by suicide at a Seattle-area assisted living
center in 2013. He has
since come to believe that elderly people
should be able to decide when
they’re ready to die. (Dan DeLong for KHN)
That’s a view shared by Dena Davis, 72, a bioethics professor at
Lehigh University in Pennsylvania. Suicide “could be a rational choice
for anyone of any age if they feel that the benefits of their continued
life are no longer worth it,” she said.
“The older you get, the more of your life you’ve already lived —
hopefully, enjoyed — the less of it there is to look forward to,” said
Davis, who has publicly discussed her desire to end her own life rather
than die of dementia, as her mother did.
But Conwell, a leading geriatric psychiatrist, finds the idea of
rational suicide by older Americans “really troublesome.” “We have this
ageist society, and it’s awfully easy to hand over the message that
they’re all doing us a favor,” he said.
‘So Preventable’
When older adults struggle with mental illness, families often turn to long-term care to keep them safe.
A jovial social worker who loved to dance, Ellen Karpas fell into a
catatonic depression after losing her job at age 74 and was diagnosed
with bipolar disorder. Concerned that she was “dwindling away” at home,
losing weight and skipping medications, her children persuaded her to
move to an assisted living facility in Minneapolis in 2017.
Karpas enjoyed watching the sunset from the large, fourth-story
window of her room at Ebenezer Loren on Park. But she had trouble
adjusting to the sterile environment, according to son Timothy Schultz,
52.
“I do not want to live here for the rest of my life,” she told him.
Ellen
Karpas (second from left) and four of her five children attend a St.
Patrick’s Day parade in 2016. The following year, the 79-year-old died
by suicide at an assisted living facility in Minneapolis.(Courtesy of Timothy Schultz)
On Oct. 4, 2017, less than a month after she moved in, Karpas was
unusually irritable during a visit, her daughter, Sandy Pahlen, 54,
recalled. Pahlen and her husband left the room briefly. When they
returned, Karpas was gone. Pahlen looked out an open window and saw her
mother on the ground below.
Karpas, 79, was declared dead at the scene.
Schultz said he thinks the death was premeditated, because his mother
took off her eyeglasses and pulled a stool next to the window. Escaping
was easy: She just had to retract a screen that rolled up like a roller
blind and open the window with a hand crank.
Pahlen said she believes medication mismanagement — the staff’s
failure to give Karpas her regular mood stabilizer pills — contributed
to her suicide. But a state health department investigation found
staffers were not at fault in the death. Eric Schubert, a spokesman for
Fairview Health Services, which owns the facility, called Karpas’ death
“very tragic” but said he could not comment further because the family
has hired a lawyer. Their lawyer, Joel Smith, said the family plans to
sue the facility and may pursue state legislation to make windows
suicide-proof at similar places.
“Where do I even begin to heal from something that is so painful,
because it was so preventable?” said Raven Baker, Karpas’ 26-year-old
granddaughter.
Nationwide, about half of people who die by suicide had a known
mental health condition, according to the Centers for Disease Control
and Prevention. Mental health is a significant concern in U.S. nursing
homes: Nearly half of residents are diagnosed with depression, according
to a 2013 CDC report.
That often leads caregivers, families and patients themselves to
believe that depression is inevitable, so they dismiss or ignore signs
of suicide risk, said Conwell.
“Older adulthood is not a time when it’s normal to feel depressed.
It’s not a time when it’s normal to feel as if your life has no
meaning,” he said. “If those things are coming across, that should send
up a red flag.”
Solutions
Roland K. Tiedemann was 89 when he took his life on Jan. 22, 2018, at a
Wenatchee, Wash., assisted living center. The action shocked his
daughter, Jane Davis, and left a void in the life of her daughter, Jayna, shown here at age 7½ in December 2014.(Courtesy of Jane Davis)
Still, not everyone with depression is suicidal, and some who are
suicidal don’t appear depressed, said Julie Rickard, a psychologist in
Wenatchee, Wash., who founded a regional suicide prevention coalition in
2012. She’s launching one of the nation’s few pilot projects to train
staff and engage fellow residents to address suicides in long-term care.
In the past 18 months, three suicides occurred at assisted living
centers in the rural central Washington community of 50,000 people. That
included Roland K. Tiedemann, 89, who jumped from the fourth-story
window of a local center on Jan. 22, 2018.
“He was very methodical. He had it planned out,” Rickard said. “Had
the staff been trained, they would have been able to prevent it. Because
none of them had been trained, they missed all the signs.”
Tiedemann, known as “Dutch,” lived there with his wife, Mary, who has
dementia. The couple had nearly exhausted resources to pay for their
care and faced moving to a new center, said their daughter, Jane Davis,
45, of Steamboat Springs, Colo. Transitions into or out of long-term
care can be a key time for suicide risk, data shows.
After Tiedemann’s death, Davis moved her mother to a different
facility in a nearby city. Mary Tiedemann, whose dementia is worse,
doesn’t understand that her husband died, Davis said. “At first I would
tell her. And I was telling her over and over,” she said. “Now I just
tell her he’s hiking.”
At the facility where Tiedemann died, Rickard met with the residents, including many who reported thoughts of suicide.
Julie Rickard (Frank Carlson, PBS NewsHour)
“The room was filled with people who wanted to die,” she said. “These
people came to me to say: ‘Tell me why I should still live.’”
Know What To Do
Families of people living in or transitioning to long-term care
receive little advice about signs of suicide risk – or ways to prevent
it. Here are steps to keep your loved one safe, based on interviews with
suicide prevention researchers.
Know what’s normal. Depression and thoughts of
suicide are not an inevitable part of aging or of living in long-term
care. Consider treatment for depression if the person experiences
trouble sleeping, muscle aches, headache, changes in appetite or weight,
restlessness or agitation.
Don’t be afraid to ask about it. Asking someone
about suicidal thoughts is unlikely to cause them to act on them. Start
the conversation. Ask about the facilities, the activities, the food.
Ask what would help them look forward to waking up or want to be alive.
If you have concerns, speak up. Let staff members
know if your loved one talks about wanting to die, or about actual plans
to end their lives. Work with the team collaboratively to discuss
solutions.
Ask about suicide protocols. Facilities should have a
plan for assessing, monitoring and preventing suicide risk. What’s the
protocol if someone is actively or passively suicidal? Fifteen-minute
checks? Close observation? Hospitalization? What’s the readmission
policy?
Plan for safety. If suicide is a concern, restrict
access to lethal means, including weapons, medications, chemicals, cords
and plastic bags. Ensure that windows, stairwells and exits are secure.
Most suicide prevention funding targets young or middle-aged people,
in part because those groups have so many years ahead of them. But it’s
also because of ageist attitudes that suggest such investments and
interventions are not as necessary for older adults, said Jerry Reed, a nationally recognized suicide expert with the nonprofit Education Development Center.
“Life at 80 is just as possible as life at 18,” Reed said. “Our
suicide prevention strategies need to evolve. If they don’t, we’re going
to be losing people we don’t need to lose.”
Even when there are clear indications of risk, there’s no consensus
on the most effective way to respond. The most common responses —
checking patients every 15 minutes, close observation, referring
patients to psychiatric hospitals — may not be effective and may even be
harmful, research shows.
But intervening can make a difference, said Eleanor Feldman Barbera, a
New York psychologist who works in long-term care settings.
She recalled a 98-year-old woman who entered a local nursing home
last year after suffering several falls. The transition from the home
she shared with her elderly brother was difficult. When the woman
developed a urinary tract infection, her condition worsened. Anxious and
depressed, she told an aide she wanted to hurt herself with a knife.
She was referred for psychological services and improved. Weeks later,
after a transfer to a new unit, she was found in her room with the cord
of a call bell around her neck.
After a brief hospitalization, she returned to the nursing home and
was surrounded by increased care: a referral to a psychiatrist, extra
oversight by aides and social workers, regular calls from her brother.
During weekly counseling sessions, the woman now reports she feels
better. Barbera considers it a victory.
“She enjoys the music. She hangs out with peers. She watches what’s
going on,” Barbera said. “She’s 99 now — and she’s looking toward 100.”
If you or someone you know has talked about contemplating
suicide, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at
1-800-273-8255, or use the online Lifeline Crisis Chat, both available 24 hours a day, seven days a week.
People 60 and older can call the Institute on Aging’s 24-hour, toll-free Friendship Line at 800-971-0016. IOA also makes ongoing outreach calls to lonely older adults.
In this photo posted on March 11 on
Facebook, Alejandro Aparicio poses next to his motorcycle. Aparicio was
killed Sunday in a head-on collision with a tractor trailer on US 41.
Read more here: https://www.miamiherald.com/news/local/crime/article228170569.html#storylink=cpy
At 4:18 p.m. on Sunday, March 17, Alejandro
Aparicio made a rambling post on Facebook in which he promised to soon
be reunited with his late girlfriend Andrea Greenberg. To many of Aparicio’s friends, the post read like a suicide note.
Just a few
minutes later, Aparicio drove his motorcycle directly into the oncoming
path of a tractor-trailer heading east on U.S. 41 at mile marker 42.
Aparicio, 59,
was instantly killed. Darren Caprara, director of operations for the
Miami-Dade Medical Examiner’s Office, confirmed Aparicio’s death. The
case is still under investigation.
Read more here: https://www.miamiherald.com/news/local/crime/article228170569.html#storylink=cpy
One truck driver was taken to Kendall Regional Medical Center. He was released early Wednesday, according to the hospital.
At the time of his death, Aparacio faced criminal charges for theft and other financial crimes.
In February,
Aparicio was ordered by a judge to wear an ankle GPS-monitoring device
after being charged with stealing Greenberg’s money and forging her
will. Early Monday morning, the signal from the device went dark,
spurring a judge to issue a warrant for Aparicio’s arrest. The presumption by authorities was that Aparicio, who was facing up to 65 years in prison, had gone on the lam.
The charges of financial crimes, filed by the State Attorney’s Office, were the result of a prolonged legal battle in
probate court between Aparicio and Greenberg’s sister Valerie
Greenberg, who accused him of stealing money from Andrea, forging her
will to make himself the sole heir of her $600,000 estate and other
financial crimes.
“Alejandro
poisoned and killed my sister,” Valerie said in a statement to the
Herald. “The walls were closing in on him. Rather than face the truth
and take responsibility for what he did, he chose this way out. It does
not bring Andrea back. But now my family and I can focus on remembering
Andrea.”
Greenberg, a
well-liked veteran of Miami’s real estate brokerage industry, was found
dead by Aparicio in their home on Oct. 17, 2017. The Miami-Dade Medical
Examiner’s report concluded she died from “acute combined drug toxicity”
involving three kinds of the opioid fentanyl.
That
explanation never sat well with Greenberg’s friends, who knew the
54-year-old as someone “completely averse to drugs,” according to her
longtime friend Amy Zakarin.
“Andrea drank
wine at social gatherings, and that was it,” Zakarin said. “Nothing made
sense about her dying when she was so healthy and happy. I’m in shock
and so sad about all of this. The fact that Alejandro drove head-on into
that truck and put other people in harm’s way is devastating.”
Aparicio’s
friends, too, were shocked by the news of his death, although they had
begun to worry after reading his final Facebook post on Sunday.
“It’s a tragic
end,” said Juan Restrepo, who had been friends with Aparicio since
childhood. “I’m not entirely surprised, because I told my cousin on
Sunday Alejandro was probably going to kill himself. I never thought he
was the kind of guy who would try to flee. But I’m still at a loss for
words. It’s a tragic, tragic end.”
Read more here: https://www.miamiherald.com/news/local/crime/article228170569.html#storylink=cpy
Andrea Greenberg and Alejandro Aparicio in
one of the hundreds of photos Aparicio posted on his Facebook wall over
the last two weeks.
Read more here: https://www.miamiherald.com/news/local/crime/article228170569.html#storylink=cpy
Read more here: https://www.miamiherald.com/news/local/crime/article228170569.html#storylink=cpy
Read more here: https://www.miamiherald.com/news/local/crime/article228170569.html#storylink=cpy
NASHVILLE, Tenn. (WZTV) — Former Nashville Judge Casey Moreland received a 44-month prison sentence Friday.
Moreland pleaded guilty
to five counts of relating to obstruction of justice, witness
tampering, and stealing money from an organization receiving federal
funds in late May.
According to Acting Assistant Attorney General
John Cochran, the FBI began investigating back in Jan. 2017 whether or
not Moreland offered sexual favors for favorable treatment as a General
Sessions Judge.
Moreland later admitted that he actively took steps to obstruct the
investigation in Feb. 2017 by paying a witness to sign a false affidavit
to recant her previous statements. The Department of Justice also said
Moreland planted drugs in the witness's car so she would be arrested and
her credibility would be destroyed.
He used a burned phone
registered to Raul Rodriguez to carry out these plans, working with
someone who would become in an information for the FBI.
Back in
March, Moreland faced more charges of tampering with a witness, victim,
or informant and destruction, alteration, or falsification of records in
a Federal investigation.
Moreland resigned in March 2017 amid an FBI investigation charging him with public corruption.
Previous estimates had pegged his fortune at $16 million.
Bourdain’s will leaves the bulk of his money to his
11-year-old daughter Ariane Busia-Bourdain and the control over his
estate to her mother, his estranged wife Ottavia Busia-Bourdain. It was
filed in Manhattan Surrogate’s Court.
His assets include $425,000 in “cash and savings,”
$35,000 in a brokerage account, $250,000 and “personal property,” and
$500,000 in “intangible property including royalties and residuals,”
according to court papers.
The documents do not list the East 94th Street condo
Bourdain bought with his then-wife in 2014, but the filings do indicate a
$1 million mortgage liability for an unspecified property.
The will was written in 2016, shortly before Bourdain and Busia split. He was dating Italian actress Asia Argento when he committed suicide in a hotel room in France amid. He was 61.
The celebrity chef had been working on a new episode of his CNN show “Parts Unknown” at the time of his death.
Bourdain, who traveled the globe for his culinary
adventure shows, gave his “accumulated frequent flier miles” to his
wife. He asked her to “dispose of [them] in accordance with what [she]
believes to have been my wishes,” he says in his will.
He left the same instructions for cars, furniture, books, clothing and other household items.
Ariane, his only child, is set to inherit the remainder
of his assets. Had his daughter died before he did the money would have
gone to her nanny, Myra Quizon, the will says.
The court will appoint a guardian to protect his young daughter’s interests in the estate because she’s a minor.
The estate’s attorney did not immediately return messages seeking comment.
SOUTH PASADENA, Calif. -- South Pasadena's police chief says he'll ask for criminal charges to be filed against a nursing home where a patient walked away last year, doused herself with gasoline and set herself on fire.
Chief Arthur Miller said Wednesday that among other things, the former South Pasadena Convalescent Hospital recruited younger patients that included rapists, robbers and drug addicts.
He says police received 1,100 calls over a decade from the facility, which Miller says wasn't equipped or licensed to handle those types of patients.
It was decertified by regulators this year and has a new name and ownership.
Former owner Shlomo Rechnitz is being sued over November's death of the suicidal woman.
“They feel like they can’t reach out and get support, because they feel like they’re not
allowed to feel victimized in a way.” (Getty Images)
As with those who have endured other types of abuse, victims of financial elder abuse often feel they can’t or shouldn’t seek recourse.
Most commonly perpetrators of financial
exploitation – which can range from stealing Social Security checks to
taking over assets – are family members, caregivers or others known and
trusted by those who are victimized. That can make individuals who are
financially exploited all the more reluctant to come forward, and
experts say perpetrators often bank on this or pressure victims not to
speak up as well to keep their indiscretions from seeing the light of
day – and stave off a day in court.
That betrayal by a family member or another
trusted person is especially hard on those who are financially abused,
says Sarah Barnard, a social worker who manages an elder abuse
prevention program at WISE & Healthy Aging, a nonprofit social
services organization in Santa Monica, California. On top of that, many
who’ve been financially exploited feel shame and guilt, and that may be
reinforced by victim-blaming.
“It’s just people’s way of distancing themselves, saying, ‘Oh that
wouldn’t happen to me,’” Barnard says. “People feel so much pain,” she
adds. “They feel like they can’t reach out and get support, because they
feel like they’re not allowed to feel victimized in a way.”
But as experts note, the widespread nature of financial exploitation
shows it can happen to anyone.
Increasingly, states are looking at new
ways to legally address financial exploitation – to better address and
deter this form of abuse as the U.S. population ages and, experts say, increasing numbers are vulnerable. Most states currently criminalize financial elder abuse, says Matthew Andres,
director of University of Illinois College of Law’s Elder Financial
Justice Clinic, which provides free legal services to victims of
financial exploitation. That means in addition to laws already on the
books to prosecute things like theft, there are “enhanced” penalties or
additional charges that may be filed in financial exploitation cases
involving seniors or vulnerable adults that could increase jail time for
perpetrators.
What’s more, Andres notes that a handful of
states now have statutes in place allowing older or vulnerable adults –
such as someone with cognitive or mental impairment – to sue
specifically for elder financial exploitation; Andres says states with
so-called elder financial exploitation civil causes of action include
Arizona, California, Florida, Oregon, Minnesota, Utah, Illinois and
Washington. (In general, in cases where victims are deemed to be unable
to act on their own behalf, due, for instance, to cognitive impairment
like severe dementia, another person acting under power of attorney or a public guardian may file suit on their behalf.)
A key feature of elder financial exploitation
civil causes of action is that they allow victims to sue for multiple
times the amount lost – typically two or three times the amount – and
also to recover attorneys’ fees for bringing the case, Andres says.
“It’s both to punish people more and act as a deterrent for this kind of
behavior but also to encourage settlement of these cases,” he says.
“Because somebody is more likely to give back 100 percent of the money
that is taken if they know that at the end of the case they may have to
give back 300 percent of the money that was taken.” In addition, being
able to recover attorneys’ fees can help in finding a lawyer to take an
elder financial abuse case, which can be challenging to litigate.
“They’re complex cases and a lot of attorneys just don’t want to get
involved in recovery – recovery may be difficult,” he says. “So
rewarding attorneys' fees is important to help people get
representation.”
In the rest of states without elder financial
exploitation civil statutes, individuals can still sue to recover
losses. But commonly they may not be able to recover more than 100
percent or attorneys' fees. Frequently property or money stolen is
quickly expended, with nothing left to recover. That’s another reason
experts say it’s critical that victims as well as anyone who suspects
elder financial abuse report it immediately to authorities. Call local
law enforcement or contact your local Adult Protective Services office to report financial exploitation – the earlier, the better to best prevent damages from mounting.
Don’t forget, too, experts say, that the cost of
financial abuse goes far beyond the monetary loss. Rather, it should be
treated like other types of abuse or trauma, Barnard says. “Victims and
their families should know that services like counseling and case
management can help them heal and stabilize after being financially
abused. The victim may need help with basic needs like reliable
caregiving, food, transportation and housing.” This may involve getting
help from numerous agencies; Barnard recommends looking up social
services in their area to see what’s offered.
Therapy may also be helpful to address the fallout from financial abuse. Studies have found increases in depression and anxiety associated with financial exploitation, and experts say it may increase risk for suicide
as well. Therapy can help address mental health concerns, Barnard says.
“It can help elders process the shame and betrayal that many victims
feel after being taken advantage of by those who they may have trusted.”
Dr. Robert Roush,
a professor of geriatrics at the Huffington Center on Aging at Baylor
College of Medicine in Houston, emphasizes the importance of this kind
of “psychological first aid” to help those affected feel safe again. In
addition, it’s important that those who have been victimized don’t make
any major financial decisions right away – such as in an attempt to try
to recoup losses – says Roush, who is the medical project director for
the Elder Investment Fraud and Financial Exploitation Prevention Program
(or EIFFE) Prevention Program. Instead, the extent of the loss first
needs to be determined, and it’s important to speak with professionals,
such as social workers who deal with financial abuse cases, financial
advisors and possibly with attorneys experienced in dealing with such
cases – if considering legal action – about next steps.
Apart from taking action to recover monetary losses, experts say victims
of financial abuse most especially need support to weather the storm
and reduce the likelihood of re-victimization. “Check in with vulnerable
elders to reduce isolation and loneliness, as those are factors that
increase their likelihood of being exploited,” Barnard says. That might
include seeing if they’re interested in going to a local senior center
or getting involved with a church they attend, she suggests. Providing
non-judgmental support is critical to begin to address and recover in a
holistic way all that was really lost, experts say, when a relationship
was financially exploited to profit the abuser. As Barnard points out,
“The vast majority of people who are financially abused get into that
position because they are looking out for others.”
WSMV Channel 4 NASHVILLE, TN (WSMV) - The name of well-known Nashville attorney Bryan
Lewis has been in the news a lot lately in connection with the May 2016
suicide of Leigh Terry.
Police concluded Terry shot herself in the head with Lewis’ gun in an
apartment in the Stahlman building Lewis had rented for her. Lewis told
police the two had a sexual relationship.
According to a
detective’s report, Terry, Lewis, General Sessions Judge Casey Moreland
and several other people had recently taken a trip to Alabama. The trip
ended early for Terry after an argument, during which witnesses said
Terry threatened to expose something she said she knew about Lewis and
the judge.
Lewis’ name also came up after an investigation into the suicide of a Davidson County judge 21 years ago.
Metro
police said Probate Court Judge Jim Everett shot himself in the head on
land owned by Bryan Lewis’ father, Jimmy Lewis, in October 1995. Jimmy
Lewis found the judge’s body, according to Metro police.
Authorities said Judge Everett's suicide came 18 days before a federal grand jury was to meet.
Bryan
Lewis was frequently in Judge Everett's court. He was appointed to
handle the affairs of people who were in conservatorships.
In a
conservatorship, people who can’t care for themselves, such as people
with dementia, are appointed someone, often an attorney, to look after
them. Their estates pay the legal fees.
After Judge Everett
committed suicide, the District Attorney’s office and federal agencies
stepped up a probe that was already underway into the judge’s office.
"The
FBI, the IRS, and our office at this point are the ones that are
looking into any possible violations for anything that occurred in
Probate Court. I'm not saying that there are, I'm saying that's what
we're involved in looking at," said District Attorney Torry Johnson
during an interview the month after the judge’s death.
Everett's suicide accelerated other investigations into possible favoritism by the judge.
A
team of reporters from the Tennessean newspaper poured through nearly a
decade of Everett's court records. Jim East was on that team.
"We went way back. We sat down there, eight, 10 hours a day for about 10 days," East said.
"We spent about six weeks working on the stories,” East added.
The Tennessean looked at whom Everett was appointing as conservators and how much they earned in fees.
"We kept seeing the same names,” East said.
The
lion's share of cases, worth more than $800,000, were assigned to a
small circle of the judge's friends, the reporters found.
"Eighty-five
percent of those were going to four people, three of them lawyers,
including Bryan Lewis," East said. Two of the other lawyers were
associates of Lewis, East said.
The Tennessean found Bryan Lewis was paid $172,000 in fees from the cases Everett appointed him to.
“They weren't criminally charged with doing anything illegal," East said.
Published
reports said Everett was also under investigation for accepting free
cars from a local dealership and for possibly altering the outcomes of
sentences in DUI cases.
The Channel 4 I-Team had investigated
Judge Everett a year before his death. The I-Team found court records
showing Judge Everett was letting repeat drunk drivers out of jail on
furloughs, which the law didn't allow.
"Judges are human, I'm
going to make mistakes. I'll make mistakes tomorrow. I'll make mistakes
next week. But I'll try not to make the same mistakes twice,” Everett
told Channel 4’s Nancy Amons during a December 1994 interview.
Former
District Attorney Torry Johnson confirmed to the I-Team that his office
was investigating allegations of bribery. Everett died before the
investigation ran its course.
According to investigators, there was never any indication that Judge Everett's death was anything but a suicide.
Police said he left notes with his family but they didn't reference the investigation.
"Notes
the judge left did not give a specific reason. The reason, only the
judge knew," said Don Aaron, the police department spokesman, in October
1995.
Jim East has his own opinion of why Everett committed suicide.
"Well, I think he was scared to death he was going to end up a judge in prison," East said.
The
I-Team contacted Bryan Lewis for an interview. He declined, saying, “I
will never speak to you for the entirety of my career."
Now another Nashville judge is under investigation - Judge Casey Moreland.
The name of Moreland's friend Bryan Lewis coincidentally comes up in connection with two suicides, two decades apart.
NASHVILLE,
Tenn. - The Federal Bureau of Investigation is asking questions about
an embattled Davidson County judge, NewsChannel 5 has learned.
Their
focus is on allegations of improper relationships and official actions
involving longtime General Sessions Judge Casey Moreland.
FBI
agents began conducting interviews after allegations emerged from a
Metro police investigation into the death of Leigh Terry, a 34-year-old
Nashville woman who friends say struggled with depression and alcohol.
Her body was found inside an apartment in the Stahlman Building across from the Metro Courthouse.
Police ruled her death a suicide.
Terry's
death came just days after a trip to the Alabama coast with Moreland
and defense attorney Bryan Lewis -- a pair whose relationship and
vacations have raised ethical questions in the past.
Accompanying
the two on this trip were Terry and two other women who, according to
court records, had all been defendants assigned to Moreland's court at
some point in the past.
According to the police investigative
file, Lewis admitted paying for Terry's apartment in the Stahlman, as
well as loaning her the gun she eventually used to kill herself.
He later admitted the relationship with Terry was more than just an attorney-client relationship.
"It
would be classified a friend and a friend with benefits. Had I had sex
with her on occasions? Yes," Lewis told a Metro detective in a
tape-recorded interview.
Lewis said he first met Terry when he represented her on a 2013 DUI.
A former boyfriend, Roy Matlock, told police that Terry told him right after they met about a troubling encounter with Moreland.
"When I met her she basically gave me like all her dirty laundry," Matlock told police.
"She
told me right then that she had sex with Casey Moreland in the chambers
- and that's what kept her out of jail. And she said I feel nasty."
Police
reports show another former boyfriend, Brian Pesterfield, also insisted
Terry had told him "she got out of a DUI by sleeping with Judge
Moreland."
In fact, court records show the 2013 DUI was originally assigned to Moreland.
But
the final order, reducing that case to reckless driving and sentencing
her to five days in jail, was signed by another judge.
Jail records show Terry never showed up to serve her sentence.
Still, court documents show that Moreland later terminated Terry's probation, effectively ending the case.
Also on the trip was Natalie Amos, who admits she was in a relationship with Judge Moreland.
She was reluctant to tell police who was on the trip.
"I
know you don't want to mention somebody, but I just need to know who we
are talking about," a Metro detective said to Amos in a recorded
interview.
"Casey Moreland," Amos replied.
According to the
police file, Terry had told Roy Matlock that "when Natalie Amos told her
she owed high court fees, she would call Judge Moreland and have them
waived."
Numerous witnesses said Terry began acting erratically during the trip, even threatening to expose Moreland and Lewis.
"She
said, 'Ok, I hope you're ready.' And she's like 'I will ruin you.' She
said 'I know things.' She's like 'you both know what I'm talking
about,'" Amos told police.
Pesterfield recounted how "on the trip
she yelled at Bryan Lewis and Casey Moreland that she was going to tell
the media about the trips and the mistresses, how she slept with Casey
Moreland to get out of a DUI."
Bryan Lewis's reaction to her threats:
"I
took that as an idle threat from her, something that was made in the
heat of the moment and, you know, that she wouldn't follow through
with," Lewis told police.
And Moreland told police he also felt Terry "would calm down and come to her senses" once she got home.
A former boyfriend flew down to the Alabama coast and brought her back to Nashville.
Just days later, the troubled young woman took her own life.
Again, multiple sources say FBI agents have begun conducting interviews in conjunction with these allegations.
We don't know whether this is just a preliminary investigation -- or a full-fledged public corruption case.
Moreland's
attorney Worrick Robinson said they will cooperate with any
investigation and he looks forward to telling Moreland's side.
A Nashville judge facing allegations that an improper
relationship influenced a case in his courtroom will be off the bench
for a period of time, court officials said Friday.
Judge
Casey Moreland, one of Nashville’s 11 General Sessions judges handling
mostly misdemeanor cases, is on leave for medical reasons, according to
General Sessions Court Administrator Warner Hassell.
"I
know Judge Moreland may be out for a little bit for medical reasons,"
he said. "And how long that may be I don't know. But his docket will be
covered by a qualified judge."
Hassell said the
General Sessions judges, who each earn $170,000 annually, held a special
meeting Friday and unanimously selected Judge Gale Robinson to replace
Moreland as presiding judge.
Robinson, who called the meeting, did not
return a call Friday.
Moreland had served as
presiding judge since last fall, and has been a judge since 1998. The
presiding judge earns the same as other judges but takes on
administrative duties such as setting schedules.
Earlier
this week, Moreland's health was a concern. About 9 a.m. Thursday, a
court staffer and a police officer went to his home to conduct a welfare
check, police spokeswoman Kris Mumford said. She said the officer
talked to the judge and left.
The allegations of
misconduct against Moreland are documented in a Metro Nashville Police
Department investigation of a woman’s suicide, and were the subject of
several stories in the Nashville Scene and on WSMV Channel 4 news.
The Tennessean has been working for weeks to verify the allegations in the reports.
Nashville
resident Leigh Terry, 34, committed suicide in May. Before she died,
Terry told two friends she had sex with Moreland, according to a police
report based on interviews with the friends. She told one friend she had
sex with the judge to get out of a driving under the influence charge,
the report said. The interviews documented in the police report are not
done under oath.
Terry had at least one DUI and
implied consent violation — meaning she refused to take a breath or
blood test — case assigned to Moreland, but the trial in the case was
handled by another Nashville judge, court records show.
The
case happened in 2013, years before Terry, Moreland, lawyer Bryan Lewis
and others went on a tumultuous trip to Alabama together.
In
late April 2016, Lewis flew Terry and others in his private plane to
the beach. Moreland met them there. On the trip and at dinner, Terry was
picking fights with people, Lewis told police, so he booked her a hotel
room and gave her money for a flight home. A week later, police reports
say, the woman killed herself in her apartment with a gun Lewis had
given her.
In interviews with police
investigating Terry’s death, Lewis admitted he and Terry had been in a
sexual relationship and he paid for the downtown apartment where the
woman lived.
Moreland told the Nashville Scene
he had met Terry a few times and recused himself from her DUI case. In
comments to the Scene, the judge denied having a sexual relationship
with Terry and said his stamp on case dispositions was merely an
administrative measure.
But a judicial conduct expert consulted by The Tennessean for this story said the recusal raises questions.
“If
he’s just saying he ran into the woman once or twice, I’m not sure why
he recused himself,” said David Cook, a Memphis lawyer and former member
of the state judicial oversight body now known as the Board of Judicial
Conduct.
Terry was represented by Lewis in the
DUI case. Cook said the judge’s relationship with Lewis, as well as
Terry, could violate rules for judges in Tennessee.
Moreland
did not respond to text messages, phone calls or an email seeking
comment this week. Lewis said he could not comment for this story.
Lewis and the longtime General Sessions judge have a history, one that has led to controversy before.
Later this month, Lewis will go before the
Tennessee Board of Professional Responsibility, which disciplines
lawyers, for a hearing on a complaint that involves Moreland.
A
complaint was filed because of a call Lewis made to Moreland, which led
to a prominent developer getting out of jail early after his arrest on
domestic violence charges. The developer, David Chase, was charged with
assaulting his former girlfriend a second time, after he was released.
Those charges were later dropped in a controversial deal made by
District Attorney General Glenn Funk.
Lewis’
disciplinary hearing is set to begin Feb. 13, after which members of the
Tennessee Board of Professional Responsibility will decide what if any
penalties he should face.
WSMV Channel 4 NASHVILLE, TN (WSMV) - Court documents indicate that Davidson County
General Sessions Judge Casey Moreland appears to have helped a woman he
knew avoid paying traffic fines and court fees.
Text messages
provided by the woman, Natalie Amos, corroborate what the Channel 4
I-Team found in the court papers. The messages also indicate Moreland
and Amos “sexted” each other and met privately at her apartment.
Court
records show that Moreland arranged to have $1,200 in court fines wiped
from Amos’ debt, without following the normal procedures.
Moreland declared Amos indigent, unable to pay, even though she was working and willing to work out payments.
"I just really thought I was going to get an extension, and it just went away," Amos told the I-Team.
Amos
said she had met Moreland at a downtown restaurant. The introduction
was made by her friend Leigh Terry – the same woman whose suicide in May
2016 was investigated by Metro police. Terry had been on a trip with
Judge Moreland and attorney Bryan Lewis in the days before her death.
The
court's computer shows Amos' fines were waived July 14, 2015. That same
day, Amos received a text she said was from the judge.
"Your fees; fines and court cost are taken care of! You now officially owe me !! Haha,” the text read.
Amos
said there was no quid-pro-quo and that no sexual favors were exchanged
for taking care of the fines and court costs, but she said their
relationship later became sexual.
"But you became lovers, eventually?" I-Team reporter Nancy Amons asked.
"Eventually we did, yes, about a year later,” Amos said.
Three
months after the court fines disappeared, on Nov. 24, 2015, Amos texted
Moreland about problems she was having getting her license back. She
owed money to the Tennessee Department of Safety over traffic tickets.
Moreland texted her, "I may can help in Davidson County.” He then reminded her to send a picture, which she did.
The
two exchanged suggestive comments; Moreland texting, "So you want me to
give you a little attention?" He also mentioned a "mid-day quick and
dirty tuck," a reference to an earlier conversation concerning her
tucking him in.
The I-Team tracked what happened to two of Amos’ traffic tickets mentioned in the text conversation.
Documents
at the Traffic Clerk's office show that on Nov. 4, 2016, Moreland wrote
two letters, one for each ticket, directing the clerk to “pull the
ticket” and place the citations on a traffic docket coming up in four
days. He directed the clerk not to subpoena the officer. When the cases
went to court, one ticket was retired, with no fines due; the second
ticket shows that the fine was paid, which surprised Amos.
Amos
texted the judge the following week following up about the tickets,
telling Moreland, “Thanks so much for your help... much appreciated!”
Moreland texted back, "They are gone !! Hahaha."
Amos texted back, "I know that crazy!"
Moreland’s text then proposed they meet the next day at her apartment.
“What you doing tomorrow between 3:30 and 5:30???" Amos texted.
"Just be horny and naked !!", Moreland’s text said.
The next texts are sexually explicit.
On
Nov. 16, the next day, Moreland texted that he was on the way to her
apartment and asks for specific instructions about how to get in.
"Want me to come around the back !" Moreland’s text said.
The I-Team has been asking Judge Moreland for an interview concerning his texts with Amos. So far, he has declined.
Click the links to read parts one and two of this investigation.
