Page 86

And, on the heels of that thought came another.I lost Abby for nothing...
Swiping his eyes, his gaze caught on Lindsay, across the aisle, hands folded on the table before her, lips turned up in a sharp smile of victory.
“However,” Judge Farmer’s voice hardened. “Sometimes complex cases can be deceiving.” He turned toward Lindsay. “Ms. Meyers, your reasons for requesting a change to your custody agreement were spurious at best, a waste of the court’s time and energy. That said, I appreciate circumstances can change, and the presence of a child in one’s life can be the greatest catalyst for change of all. With good faith, I allowed this case to continue. As a judge, I must give each parent an opportunity to be a part of their child’s life, so long as it does not effect the well-being of the child, and, as such I was prepared this morning to render a judgment in favor of split custody.”
Scott’s vision narrowed, his breath coming too fast.Dylan...
“Dr. Ferndale.”
“Your Honor?” He stood, hands dangling at his sides, relaxed, despite the razor-sharp eyes of the Judge upon him.
“Your professional evaluation suggested Ms. Meyers would be a better parental figure for Dylan Edwards based on a number of factors, including a...” He ruffled through his papers. “‘Clear reduction in the grades of Dylan Edwards since his father began seeing Abigail Barclay.’ Not only that, but you go on to note, via hearsay, I might add, potential psychological factors of the aforementioned Ms. Barclay that could contribute to a clear and present danger to the child. Correct?”
“Yes, Your Honor. Hearsay is a legal term, and one I, as a mental health professional, am not subject to. Upon interviewing a number of subjects, it became clear to me Ms. Barclay is deeply disturbed and a continuing relationship between Mr. Edwards and Ms. Barclay could be not only detrimental, but dangerous to Dylan.”
“I see.” Judge Farmer paused. “And how much did Ms. Meyers pay you to perform the psychological evaluation for this case?”
Dr. Ferndale stiffened. “Pay, Your Honor?”
“Indulge me, for a moment, as I notice Ms. Meyers has not provided a receipt for your services.”
“Ah, of course, Your Honor. I believe the agreed-upon fee was... Well, I’d have to check on the exact amount...”
“An estimate, then?”
“Well, there were flights, of course, to interview Mr. Edwards...”
Beside him, Mark stood. “My client was interviewed once by Dr. Ferndale. No more than one round-trip flight would have been necessary.”
Dr. Ferndale scowled at Mark. “By flights, of course, I meant the one down here, then a return, and the custody hearings, this one included...”
Judge Farmer interrupted. “So, three trips, each with two flights. Six, total, correct? Upon receipt of an itemized invoice, I would see six flights listed.”
“Eight.” Wrought from him like a witness on cross-examination, he spoke barely above a whisper, as if by volume, alone, he could distance himself from the truth he’d been forced to speak.
“Eight?”
“There was one, additional trip, just before Thanksgiving.”
Scott clenched his fists. “The article...” It hissed through his teeth, against his will.
Mark leaned in close, his voice in Scott’s ear. “Don’t.”
“Thanksgiving.” The judge paused on that word. “Interesting. And what, exactly, were your plans over Thanksgiving?”
Lindsay jerked, a motion not at all subtle and more than enough to draw the attention of every eye in the room.
Dr. Ferndale cleared his throat. “I believe I spent Thanksgiving with my sister.”
“Indeed. You made no other stops?”
“Your Honor,” Lindsay had collected herself and rose to her feet. “I can’t imagine...”
“Neither could I, Ms. Meyers, and yet, here we are. Dr. Ferndale, please answer the question.”
The man fidgeted, rubbed his forehead, tugged his cuffs straight. “Ah, I might have made another call or two on my way home. Professional courtesy, of course.”
Judge Farmer sat back in his seat, and, in that moment, Scott caught a glimpse of the kind of lawyer he must have been before ascending to the bench. The kind of lawyer he’d be grateful to have on his side, and afraid of going up against.