Splitsville, page 12
“Absolutely not.”
Kenzi clenched the steering wheel. “Maya, this is disastrous. If you’re unemployed when the trial rolls around, your chances of getting custody drop dramatically. You need work.”
“I know. I tried to tell Maggie that, but she wouldn’t listen. Made me want to rip her eyes out.”
“Please don’t. That would not be helpful.”
“I’ve already started looking, I’ll have something before the trial starts. Promise.”
“Is there any way we could turn this into a good thing? Like maybe you left LORE as a matter of principle?”
“What principle would that be?”
“I understand some religious organization has protested against your lab’s work with stem cells. Maybe you also objected?”
“No, I don’t have any problem with that. In fact, it was my idea. But I’ll still get my girl back, right? Right?”
She hated to make promises, but if she didn’t she feared Maya would completely crumble and the hearing would be a disaster.
She reached a hand across and patted Maya’s shoulder. “We’ll get Brittany back. One way or the other.”
Judge Benetti’s courtroom was on the second floor. It was a small courtroom, but family court rarely attracted large crowds. The court clerk walked to her desk followed by the stenographer, which told Kenzi the judge would not be far behind.
Kenzi nodded at Crozier as she passed him.
“Given any more thought to what I said?” he asked.
About the case, or his job offer? She assumed the latter. “No. Been too busy.”
“Don’t wait forever.”
“News flash. I have a court hearing coming up.”
He grinned. “I don’t think this will take long.”
Judge Benetti entered the courtroom a few minutes later. His hair was gray and thin and he seemed lighter than when she’d seen him last. He moved deliberately, swishing his robe. He dumped a tall stack of paperwork on his bench. She got the impression he was in a grumpy mood. Which was unfortunate. Because this hearing was not likely to do anything to improve his temperament.
“Okay. Breville v. Breville. Action for Divorce. One child, custody in dispute. We appear to have three pending matters.” He paused, scanning the paperwork. “A discovery dispute. Always love those. And a predictable request for attorney fees. And a challenge to the emergency protective order. We’ll take up that one last, as it’s likely to take the longest time to resolve. Do the parties plan to call witnesses?”
Both Kenzi and Crozier nodded.
“As I suspected. So that one comes last. May get kicked to the afternoon.” He stacked his papers and bounced them against the bench till they made a perfectly squared bundle. “Let’s start with the discovery. Mr. Crozier, I believe this is your motion.”
Crozier rose. “Yes, your honor.”
“Do you have any idea how much I despise discovery disputes?”
“Yes, sir. I have appeared before you on many occasions.”
“Then I would think you’d know better.”
“Your honor, in this case, I have no choice. This discovery relates to a serious threat to the child. I’m speaking about the mother’s involvement with a dangerous cult.”
“Oh yes, I remember. She’s wrapped up in that…what’s it called again?”
“Hexitel.”
“What is that, like witchcraft or something?”
“They do have many supernatural beliefs and…outré rituals.”
“Chickens? Do they sacrifice chickens?”
“Uh…not to my knowledge.”
“Good.” He swished his jaw around. “I love chickens. Couldn’t abide anyone hurting a poor defenseless chicken.”
Okay, now she was worried. Benetti not only looked older, but was acting way way older. She wasn’t sure of his exact age but thought he was well past sixty. Was senility creeping in?
“What’s the discovery you want?”
“All documents pertaining to the mother’s involvement with the cult—”
Kenzi rose. “Your honor, I object to the repeated use of the word ‘cult.’ My client considers this her religion.”
Judge Benetti peered at her as if he were having difficulty focusing. “She considers a cult her religion?”
“She doesn’t consider it a cult. It is her religion. Is Catholicism a cult?”
“Of course not. I went to Catholic school when I was a lad. Do I look like a cultist?”
“No, sir. And neither does my client.”
Crozier interrupted. “But there are reports that Hexitel may be involved in dangerous activities.”
“And the Catholic church was behind the Spanish Inquisition. It’s still a religion. We have the First Amendment in this country, your honor. No one can be punished because they subscribe to a religion.”
The judge raised a finger. “That’s not quite accurate. Everyone has the freedom to choose. But if those choices are hazardous, the child should be moved to a safer environment.”
They appeared to be arguing the ultimate motion. She tried to pull it back to the discovery matter. “Your honor, this a fishing expedition. They’re using this to harass my client and pry into her personal life.”
“Unfortunately, that’s what happens in divorce court. No way around it.”
“May I add something?” Crozier asked. “Ms. Breville’s personal life should be investigated. For the sake of the child. This cult is bad news, not only for the people in it but for their children. We have a right to pursue this line and to conduct discovery so the court can be fully and fairly apprised of any dangers.”
“This isn’t about the child,” Kenzi said. “This is about their desire to sling mud.”
“I can assure the court that is not so. I don’t want to protract this or make it any uglier than it needs to be. In fact, we’ve already instigated a settlement hearing, though sadly it was not successful.”
He instigated the settlement hearing? “Your honor, my client has never—”
The judge raised a hand, cutting her off. “I’ve heard enough. I always take a liberal approach to discovery and this will be no exception. Better to err on the side of doing too much than too little. This motion will be granted. Your client will provide the requested documents.”
“But your honor—”
The judge looked cross. “Don’t interrupt me, missy. Don’t ever interrupt me.”
“I’m sorry, but—”
“There is no but. Now be silent and listen. I’ve been charged with the safety of a minor. Believe me, there is nothing more unpleasant than having to choose between parents, knowing full well how harmful a bad choice could be. I want to know everything there is to know about this Hexitel outfit. I don’t care what word we use to describe it. Many people think it’s dangerous. And if that proves true, you may rest assured I will do everything imaginable to protect this child from those dangers. And the parent who brought those dangers to bear.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Kenzi looked sideways at her client. Maya looked stricken, and she could understand why. Technically, the judge had ruled on the discovery motion, but it sounded like he’d already made up his mind on the custody motion, and they hadn’t even argued it yet.
“Very well,” Judge Benetti said. “What’s next?”
“That would be my motion.” Crozier replied, an almost sheepish expression on his face. His voice dropped to barely more than a whisper. “I haven’t been paid since this case began.”
Judge Benetti’s expression was somewhat akin to an “Aw, poor baby.” “And you’re telling me this for a reason, I assume.”
“I’ve filed a motion for attorney fees.”
Judge Benetti rustled through the papers on his desk, resembling nothing so much as a grandfather trying to locate his car keys. “I think I have that somewhere.” His hands seized a thin document. He exclaimed in triumph. “Yes. So your client wants the little lady to pay his bills?”
“Yes, sir. She was the primary breadwinner for the family. By agreement. He looked after their child and he is still doing so. It’s a fulltime job.”
“If I may,” Kenzi said, cutting in, “this arrangement was not so much by agreement as necessity. My client’s husband has a college degree but he’s had trouble holding a job. He’s supposedly still looking.”
“And what is this young man’s field?”
She cleared her throat and tried to sound as non-judgmental as possible. “He’s also a scientist, but he hasn’t worked in years and has never held a job for long. He has a temper—”
“I’ll ask counsel not to testify,” Crozier said, drowning her out.
The judge squinted at Crozier. “So your out-of-work science boy can’t find anything?”
“It’s a tough market, your honor.”
“Can he wait tables?”
“Not with a little girl at home.”
The judge made a harrumphing sound. He obviously didn’t like it but kept his thoughts to himself. “I favor the American rule. Everyone pays their own way.”
Nonetheless, Kenzi knew some judges obliged lawyers the second they intimated that they hadn’t been paid. Part of the old school attitude—in the legal world, we all stick together.
“In most cases,” Crozier said, “I would support that. But here we have an extraordinary situation. A devoted househusband has been forced to file for divorce because he’s concerned about the safety of his daughter. He couldn’t wait till he found a job. He had to act immediately.”
“He’s only entitled to fees after he proves he cannot pay and the opposing party can,” Kenzi replied. “He has done neither. It wouldn’t matter if my client were Jack the Ripper. He doesn’t get fees unless he proves need.”
The judge turned to Crozier. “Are you prepared to present evidence on this point?”
Crozier squirmed, which was an answer in and of itself. “I was hoping that wouldn’t be necessary, your honor. We haven’t completed discovery.”
“Just to be clear,” Kenzi said, “we oppose this motion. His client may have absconded with the child, but my client has always paid the bills. If the husband can afford to put the child up in an undisclosed location, he must have some money. Maybe we should file a claim for compensatory damages.”
The judge nodded. “The little spitfire does have a point, Lou.”
Wait. Was she the spitfire? She wanted to be flattered, but she was pretty certain the judge would never call anyone male a spitfire.
“Your honor,” Crozier said, “I can assure you my client is struggling to make ends meet. He’s been denied access to the household bank account—”
“There is no household bank account, your honor. There never was. The parties have always maintained separate accounts.”
“Well, my client’s cupboard is bare.”
The judge’s shoulders heaved. “I don’t want that little girl to starve.”
“I’ve seen no evidence of starvation,” Kenzi said. “Or any deprivation whatsoever. If the girl needs a good meal, bring her to her mother. They can have a supervised lunch date. My client has always provided for that child and she will continue to do so in the future.”
Crozier looked irritable. This wasn’t turning out to be as easy as he’d anticipated. “What is it my esteemed colleague wants? Honestly, your honor, this is callousness of an unprecedented degree.”
“So you say,” Judge Benetti said, “but I still don’t see any supporting evidence. It appears you are not prepared to meet your burden of proof at this time. Perhaps we should revisit the issue at the pretrial.”
Crozier cleared his throat. “That’s fine, your honor.”
Kenzi almost smiled. Sure, that’s fine and dandy. He didn’t want to be paid anyway.
“And that leaves us with the custody matter,” the judge continued. “I have read the briefs submitted by both parties.”
“Your honor,” Crozier said, “the mother belongs to a cult. End of story.”
“It’s not a cult,” Kenzi insisted. “It’s a religion. As I’ve explained. And there is no evidence that my client has endangered her daughter or done anything improper or illegal. Certainly nothing remotely close to the magnitude of offense necessary to remove a child from her mother.”
“Sure,” Crozier said. “And Charles Manson didn’t commit any murders. Does that mean he wasn’t dangerous?”
“This is hardly—”
“Osama bin Laden didn’t fly any planes. I guess he wasn’t dangerous either.”
“Your honor—”
“The fact is, your honor, cults are dangerous. Whether you’re the ringleader or the pawn, the potential for danger is immense. Cults thrive on coercive control, and no one has more power to coerce than a parent. Who knows what she might be planning? Cults are always looking for fresh blood. Hexitel actively recruits young people on the internet. They can’t survive without new members. Young members.”
Kenzi felt her blood rising but tried to keep it in check. When she got mad, she did not do her most persuasive arguing. “I am appalled that my opponent would stoop to comparisons of this nature. There is no evidence whatsoever that my client has ever done anything that might be harmful to—”
“Do we have to wait until the damage is done before we take action? Is the court aware that the cult has branded this woman?”
Kenzi felt woozy. “It’s…more like a tattoo.”
“A tattoo inflicted with a cauterizing pen. To an extremely intimate part of the anatomy.”
The judge pursed his lips. “I knew some sailors who had tattoos. No mothers, though.”
“Tattoos are colorful and ornamental,” Crozier said. “This brand is a scar on the high upper thigh. The official logo of the Hexitel cult.”
Kenzi felt herself floundering. “None of this suggests harm to the child.”
“Is counsel delusional? If this woman will allow herself to be mutilated, what won’t she do?”
“Your honor, my client would never harm her daughter. She would die before—”
“She might delude herself into believing cult involvement is to her daughter’s benefit. And before you know it, the girl has been mutilated too.”
The judge shook his head. “Still, to remove a child from the custody of her mother requires a showing of actual—”
“Did your honor realize this mother also has a wife?”
The courtroom fell silent for a protracted moment. “A…wife?”
“That’s what they call their female partners. In the cult. They swear a vow, basically a wedding vow, pledging eternal faithfulness to another woman.”
Kenzi tried to keep her voice steady. “It’s a purely symbolic commitment. Kind of like the buddy system.”
“They use the word ‘wife.’ And we all know what that entails. Your honor, err on the side of safety. The trial date will come soon enough. In the meantime, let’s make sure this girl remains secure.”
The judge appeared conflicted. “But—if the mother is the only parent currently employed—”
“Actually,” Crozier snapped, “the mother is also unemployed. She just lost her job at LORE. Because of her cult involvement.”
A deep ridge creased the judge’s brow. He turned toward Kenzi. “Is that true?”
Damn, damn, damn. “It’s more in the nature of a downsizing…”
“That’s it, then.” The judge reached for his gavel. “I see no reason to change the current arrangement.”
Kenzi’s heart sank. No, no, no!
“The emergency custody order will remain in place. The court finds that there are sufficient grounds for leaving the child with her father pending a full adjudication of all pending matters.”
All at once, Maya rose to her feet, tears streaming. “Judge, I haven’t seen my little girl in days! I don’t know what Michael—what he—” She broke down, unable to say more.
Kenzi laid a hand on Maya’s shoulder and gently guided her back to her seat. “I won’t ask the court to change its ruling. But could my client at least have a…ten-minute visit? I understand Brittany is somewhere nearby.”
The judge turned toward Crozier. “Is that acceptable?”
Crozier nodded. “Ten minutes. Supervised.”
“You may do that in the conference room adjoining my chambers. Right now. Ten minutes, after which, the child will be returned to the custody of her father. I will see you all again at the pretrial.”
He slammed down his gavel. “Court is adjourned.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kenzi tried to stay calm, but it wasn’t easy. As a divorce attorney, she was accustomed to dealing with litigants who had strong feelings. But nothing like this. Never anything like this.
Both mother and daughter were swimming in tears. She wasn’t sure who looked more traumatized and she supposed it didn’t matter. This mother and daughter loved each other very much, had been separated against their will for a long time, and didn’t want it to continue.
Kenzi had been charged with ending this torturous situation. And she’d failed.
Brittany wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck, clinging as if dangling from a precipice. “Please don’t make me go back with him. I want to be with you.”
“I know, sweetie. I know.” Maya’s voice choked so much she could barely speak. She wiped her eyes and nose. “But the judge wants you to stay with your—your father.” Her breath cut out. Kenzi could see how hard she was struggling. “At least for now.”
“I don’t like it with him. I hate that place. It’s out in the woods and I don’t have any of my stuff.”
Where was that? She could hire a detective to find out, but then what would she do? It wasn’t as if she could barge in and grab the child. The judge had ruled.
“Maybe your father will let me bring over some of your things.”
“He won’t.” Michael stood in the corner, arms crossed. Was he entirely unmoved by this? How was that possible? It had to irk him, seeing how fond they were of each other, seeing that his daughter considered time with him akin to captivity. “Make a list of what you need, Brittany. I’ll go shopping.”
