I had found Royal twelve years ago, late on a cold and wet night during the summer vacation after my freshman year in college. I had been gassing up my car when I heard a noise coming from the bushes next to the ladies’ room door and had gone to investigate. I found a tiny puppy, a bundle of shivering flesh no bigger than my hand, cowering in the corner. I picked him up, without any hesitation, and took him home. I bottle fed him every few hours for the next month, until he was healthy enough to eat on his own. Even Dr. Roth had not been able to tell what breed of dog Royal was — all he could say was that his mother had had a “hell of a Saturday night.”
Royal, who weighed over 140 pounds now, had wiry golden hair and enormous black eyes with lashes that curled up. One of his ears lay down and the other stood straight up. We had not spent a night apart since the day I had found him. I loved Royal with all my heart and could not imagine life without him.
Although it was clear that my relationship with Rob had been rocky for the past year, it was difficult for me to imagine how it had deteriorated to the point that Rob would actually threaten to put Royal down. As I sat there in my car, at the intersection of N.W. Twelfth Avenue and 12th Street, waiting for the traffic light to change, all I could do was ask myself: What happened to us? How could the relationship between two people who had been so in love, and so happy together, disintegrate in such a terrible way?
Rob and I had been married for five years. When we met, he had been a successful architect with a thriving practice, and I had been working as the in-house private investigator for one of Miami’s best known criminal defense attorneys.
I came from a family of lawyers, so, naturally, it was assumed that I would follow in my relatives’ footsteps and become an attorney, as they had. My parents, my brother, and a cousin, who all practiced criminal defense law, had offices located in a one-story, ramshackle building in Coconut Grove that they had purchased years before.
Due to the kind of law they practiced, they needed the services of a private investigator on a daily basis, so they always employed one in-house. During summer vacations, I would work in their offices, doing various clerical jobs. One summer, however, they had so many cases pending that I had to assist their in-house private investigator. After the first week of shadowing her as she went about, I knew I wanted to do.
I loved everything about the job — from interviewing witnesses to conducting surveillances. As soon as I graduated from college — I studied business at the University of Miami — I set my sights on my goal. For two years I interned at the office of one of the most successful criminal defense attorneys in Miami. Once I had fulfilled the state of Florida’s requirements to be issued a license, I began working.
Although I could have worked for my relatives, I did not think that was a good idea. I was fortunate in that the attorney at whose offices I had interned offered me a full-time job working for him, which I quickly accepted.
I met Rob while working a case that involved his architectural firm. When, a few days later, I bumped into him while shopping at my neighborhood deli, we struck up a conversation. It turned out we lived in the same neighborhood, had both studied at the University of Miami, and we went to the same church. As we were both unattached at the time, it seemed almost natural that we would begin dating. A year later we were engaged, and six months after that we were married.
The first four years of our marriage had been blissful — we lived in a town house in the Coconut Grove section of Miami that we had bought in a deplorable state but that with Rob’s know how and many contacts, had renovated to the point where it tripled in price.
Life had been good, so much so that we had even talked about starting a family. Then, suddenly and without notice, the architectural firm where Rob worked was forced to close, and he lost his job. It really wasn’t his fault: One of the senior partners had had a stroke and, as a result, had been unable to work, and the other partner then left his wife to marry his longtime mistress, something which was going to cost him plenty. Under such circumstances, the partners had decided to shut the office down, leaving twelve architects jobless.
Unfortunately, Rob had not been able to find another job — well, that was not exactly true. Other possibilities had materialized, but Rob insisted on holding out for a job with the same pay and status he had enjoyed at his old firm. Meanwhile, I became the sole supporter of the family.
Although I was making good money, it was not enough to pay our bills, so we had to take out a second mortgage, then, last month, a line of credit which enabled us to continue to live in the style we were used to. Our credit cards were maxed out and it was clear that we were in serious financial trouble. I was so worried that I actually began to listen to those credit counseling ads on television.
I had to sign all the loan documents as well — something which I strenuously objected to, but which Rob forced me to do. It was easier to give in than to fight him. Besides, at that point I was still in love with him, and believed in him and in what he told me. For a smart woman, sometimes I was pretty dumb.
Later, when the creditors were hounding us in full force, I found out that he had forged my signature on other loan applications. In spite of the fact that we were one step away from the poorhouse, Rob refused to cut down on our spending, proclaiming that we had to maintain our standard of living at all cost.
However, for the past few months, instead of going out and trying to find another job, Rob had been going to the gym, where he was now spending six to eight hours a day. As long as I had known him, he had never before shown any interest in working out, so I was a bit surprised that he threw himself into it so wholeheartedly.
At first I thought that he had begun seeing another woman, and was getting his body into shape for her, but after following him around for a few hours for a couple of days, I knew that I was mistaken. He actually did go to the gym to work out. In almost no time, he lost all kinds of weight, and his body became hard as a rock. Every night when I came home from work, he would show me his “six-pack” and tell me how low his body fat was. He had transformed himself from sedentary architect to full-fledged bodybuilder.
Exercising was normally considered beneficial for a person, but in Rob’s case it was completely different. He became mean and abusive, and would wait for me to come home from work to berate me. Our relationship collapsed to the point that, had I been able to do so, I would have left him. Unfortunately, our financial situation was so dire that I would have been saddled with much of his debt; I would be paying it off for the rest of my life. And it wasn’t just for financial reasons that I stayed with him. As a practicing Catholic, I took my marriage vows seriously and had married Rob for life. Evidently, we were now in the poorer part of the “for richer and for poorer” stage.
Now, with Rob’s threats to euthanize Royal, the situation had reached the point of no return. I had to find a way of keeping my dog, no matter what it took. At that point in our relationship, if I’d had to choose between my husband and my dog, the dog would win, hands down.
Unfortunately, I could not formulate a plan for how to deal with Rob and the Royal situation just then, as I was on my way to the Dade County Jail to interview a client represented by the criminal defense attorney for whom I worked. According to the preliminary notes that Adrian, my boss, had given me earlier that day, the client was charged with first degree murder.