Everybody handles grief differently. You tell someone that a loved one has been murdered, and there can be disbelief, there can be anger, confusion. But having a beer or two in the morning is a reaction few detectives have probably encountered. It would also be a less than intelligent choice of beverage on Weintraub's part. He had to know that Tokars was about to be asked many serious and important questions about the house, about Sara, about times and places.
The walk-through of the house was just as disconcerting; Tokars claimed not to remember a lot about how the house was secured. He "may have" put the security bar on the sliding glass door, but he "wasn't sure." He wasn't sure if Sara's jewelry was disturbed. He could not even explain why the safe was open and empty and thought he "might" have had $1,500 within.
It was odd that an attorney would be so unsure of these details about his own home. Then again, Tokars didn't spend much time in his own home, so this might be excusable. He was, however, certain that his guitar had been moved. Of all things to be certain of—not the safe, not the jewelry...his guitar.
Banks and McIntrye continued with Fred Tokars, going through the house, the family schedule, but in the end met with frustration. He just didn't remember much.
Sara's father and sisters, however, remembered plenty. They remembered what Sara had told them about Fred's gradual abandonment of his family, about the sleazy clients he was representing, and about how Sara would confide in them that Fred was an extremely moody, paranoid, and oppressive man, who distrusted her so intensely that she was not allowed access to any money for the household unless it was through him. Even then, she had to make an appointment with her husband to plead for funds to take care of the most basic things.
After leaving the prosecutor's office, Tokars quickly succumbed to the ridiculously easy money often dangled before many a big city lawyer by the underworld. One shady referral led to another, and soon Tokars was laundering money for some of Atlanta's most prolific narcotics suppliers.
Tokars also helped establish trendy black nightclubs, like Diamonds and Pearls and Deion's Club 21 (owned in part by former Atlanta Falcons and Braves star Deion Sanders). He had found a niche in helping the gold-draped night club owners minimize or completely evade taxes. It didn't take long for word to spread among the small community of black nightclub owners that Tokars was the "go-to guy," the guy who could not only minimize your tax liabilities, he could make them go away.
Before the detectives fully understood Tokars' network of drug and nightclub clients, his personal life came into focus. Simply put, Tokars didn't have one. He had been a dismal failure as a husband and father. Clearly, his life revolved around Atlanta's underworld night life, and the riches he raked in as a result.