We sat down in an open-air Tampa, Florida, restaurant featuring linen napkins and dark wooden tables. My dining companion was Kennan Dandar, the attorney who’d taken over my son’s case.
I wasn’t hungry. I was still shaken up by the things I’d heard in the meeting we’d just had with retired Clearwater police detective Ray Emmons. Ray had torn the police report of my son’s death to shreds, pointing out all of the lies and inconsistencies.
A neatly dressed waitress took Ken’s order. Soon, a large plate of kettle chips sprinkled with blue cheese appeared. He said he shouldn’t be eating this stuff, then helped himself to a heaping portion. That’s when I remembered something I’d been told about Ken. He’d dealt with the Lisa McPherson case against Scientology for seven years. It had been so stressful, evidently, that he’d had to undergo triple bypass surgery. The Scientology attorneys—relentless…
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