Cleared by Arrest: An American Injustice

By J.B. Wilson with V.E. Gardner

This is not a bash-the-police book. Cops have an extremely difficult and dangerous job made so much harder by lopsided social media reporting and constant public and political scrutiny. For the most part, law enforcement employees are extremely ethical and dedicated to correctly protecting and serving the public. Methods of evidence gathering and examination are better than ever before; and through the physical, social, and psychological sciences, investigators are usually able to catch and convict the bad guys. But sometimes, for whatever reason, they get it wrong. This was one of those cases.

Cleared by Arrest is the story of Vera Gardner as she told it to the author. It's about how the Indiana State Police turned on a twenty-three-year veteran civilian employee with an exemplary record when fifty thousand dollars went missing from evidence. It's the story of how a fifty-four-year-old grandmother with multiple sclerosis and terminal cancer was accused of stealing that money so she and her husband could live it up one last time before her death. It's the story of sacrificing a civilian employee rather than risk the scandal and embarrassment of exposing an unsecure system of housing evidences and possible prosecution of a law enforcement officer. It's the story of how the justice system gets it wrong. It's the story of the little guy against the machine of the state.

Cleared by Arrest is the story of an American injustice.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Apr 6, 2022
• ISBN: 9781638818793

Book preview

Acknowledgements

First, a huge thank-you to Barry for hearing me and writing my story. You have listened, held me up, let me break down, and helped me with closure through an unimaginable part of my life. I feel like I lost so very much in trust, and friends, or those I thought were my friends. But you and Elica stood by me, making me realize there was a gift in the end. Although devastating, soul-crushing, and complicated, you heard my story, and that, to me, is the gift.

There are many others in my life who listened to me through all the struggles, and I want each one of them to know that I realize who they are and what they meant to me through the days and years of this ordeal. Thank-you to all of you.

Finally, no amount of thanks could ever acknowledge what my husband, Tony, went through. The emotional, physical, and financial impact this had on him was beyond comprehension. Yet, through it all, he has stood with me.

Unfortunately, this is based on a true story. Fortunately, I have survived.

Vera Gardner

Preface

We were all sitting in the living room of Kelly’s lake house—it was the first Workman family reunion since mother Janice’s passing. It was a festive atmosphere as everyone caught up on what had been going on in the families of the four siblings and their kids and grandkids. Then things turned somber as Vera, the youngest of the four, told the group that she had been arrested by the Indiana State Police a few weeks prior and was accused of stealing $37,000 from the evidence locker at the Bloomington post—the evidence locker she had overseen for several years prior to her retirement on medical disability. Of course, everyone was shocked and incensed that such an injustice could be possible. Vera was the type of person who found a nickel on the street and knocked on doors to find out who had lost it. Her mother had said many times that Vera was so honest that she would confess to a hanging crime. That was her upbringing. That was her character. There was no way she would have even daydreamed about committing the crime of which she was accused.

This is her story as she shared it with me, the story of the little guy fighting the big legal machine of the state. It is written in first person as it is her story to tell. Many names have been changed due to fear of reprisal, even though the case is now closed. The events that follow unfolded over a four-year period. It is not our purpose to convince you of her innocence or guilt. Draw your own conclusions. Vera knows she is innocent as do her family and friends. Our purpose is simply to expose the financial inequities and legal prejudices inherent within the American legal system.

1

It was a Monday, October 2, 2017, and I was sitting in the living room with my husband, Tony, kind of half watching some game show or nature documentary. I’m not sure now which it was. So much has happened, and I don’t guess it really matters. If Tony had his way, it was something like some Australian naturalist wrestling with crocodiles. We both would have been truly enjoying retirement had it not been for the fact that we were on death watch.

Tony had been retired for a few years now, and I had just retired on disability due to a relapse of colon cancer—a relapse the oncologist had told me would kill me within the next year. Tony had been a civilian dispatcher for the Indiana State Police (ISP) at the Bloomington, Indiana, post for nearly forty years. I had worked there for twenty-three years as a civilian case recorder and evidence clerk. That’s where we had met.

Some twenty years prior, I had been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis (MS) but had continued to work due to the fact that I was only mildly to moderately symptomatic at the time. I had taken medical leave when first diagnosed with colon cancer, undergoing surgery to remove a portion of my bowel and my first course of chemotherapy.

I had returned to work thinking I had truly dodged a bullet, only to relapse. In April 2017, my doctor told me to go home and enjoy what time I had left with my husband. That’s hard to do when you are sure you are looking at your last Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year. On July 19, 2017, I left ISP for good.

On that afternoon of October 2, 2017, our phone rang. On the other end of the line was trooper Jarred Crabtree of the Bloomington Post. He informed me that some evidence had been misplaced and wondered if I would come in and help them find it since I was so familiar with the system. Well, it wasn’t like I was doing anything anyway, so I agreed to help.

*     *     *     *     *

For the most part, I had always enjoyed my job with the Indiana State Police. More accurately, I had thrived there, feeling I was making a special contribution. Though I was not a police employee, I felt a sense of importance and pride to be a part of such an elite group.

These were men and women who put their lives on the line every time they took to the roads of Indiana. They never knew what awaited them at the next traffic stop. My job was a far cry from what I had thought would be my life after graduating from Shenandoah High School just outside of Middletown, Indiana.

In the early 1980s, choices for high school grads in central Indiana were limited. By then, the auto industry was shipping factories over the border, so getting a job with one of the giant automakers in either Anderson, Muncie, or New Castle was not as certain as it had been ten years earlier. A person could go to college. But my rebellious, angry self had not even taken high school seriously, so college admission was iffy at best. Besides, I had no desire to sit in a classroom for even one more day.

I could continue living at home and get a job at the locally owned grocer, but my mom and I fought like cats and dogs. I felt cramped and confined and that I couldn’t do anything without her harsh disapproval, and she felt that she had totally lost control and was frustrated that I wouldn’t listen and fought her at every turn.

It was only the two of us living at home. My