Chapter 6 - The Counter-Attack
The chaos in Courtroom 4A erupted instantly.
Reporters from the local news stations ran for the doors to broadcast the story, while attorneys in the gallery gathered in small, excited huddles, whispering about the sudden downfall of Chief Judge Sterling.
Across the well, Grant Wallace stood frozen, his eyes wide with disbelief as he watched the two GBI agents walk down the center aisle toward Benson’s legal team.
"This is ridiculous!" Grant yelled, grabbing his briefcase off the table. "Benson, do something!"
"Mr. Benson," one of the GBI agents said, pulling a leather badge wallet from his jacket. "We have a search warrant for your law office files regarding Pinnacle Holdings LLC. Please step away from those laptops."
Benson turned pale, dropping his pen onto the table, his knees visibly shaking.
Grant spun around, glaring at me with raw, unfiltered hatred as I stood calmly beside my attorney, Sarah Vance.
"You think you won something, Daniel?" Grant sneered, stepping closer until he was inches from my face. "You exposed a dirty judge. Congratulations. But that doesn't change the medical reality! Caroline is dying of stage three lymphoma in a hospital bed four miles from here! She can't parent a child! The moment a visiting judge looks at her medical charts, custody defaults to me!"
"You're wrong, Grant," Sarah Vance spoke up, stepping forward and opening her sleek leather briefcase. "Because as of seven o'clock this morning, Caroline Hayes officially executed a Delegation of Parental Authority under Georgia Code Section 19-9-128, appointing Judge Daniel Mercer and Margaret Hale as temporary legal co-guardians of Lily Wallace."
Grant laughed—a harsh, barking sound. "A temporary delegation is invalid if the biological father objects!"
"It is valid," Sarah replied smoothly, "when the biological father is currently under active criminal investigation for grand theft, corporate fraud, and felony child endangerment."
Grant’s laughter stopped dead. "What did you say?"
"Five minutes ago," I said, pulling a folded white document from my inside jacket pocket, "the District Attorney for Chatham County signed an emergency criminal warrant for your arrest."
Grant backed up a step, his shoulder striking the corner of the counsel table. "On what charges?!"
"Tax evasion, wire fraud, and the unlawful conversion of trust assets," I said, looking him dead in the eye. "When you attempted to access the Mercer Family Trust last week, you submitted a forged death certificate for my father, claiming the primary beneficiary line had dissolved. My financial forensic team tracked the wire requests directly to your offshore accounts in Grand Cayman."
Grant looked around the room frantically.
Two uniformed Chatham County Sheriff's deputies stepped through the side door near the jury box, pulling heavy steel handcuffs from their utility belts.
"Grant Wallace," the lead deputy said, pulling Grant’s arms behind his back with a practiced, efficient motion. "You are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent."
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"Daniel!" Grant screamed as the steel cuffs clicked around his wrists, locking his hands tight. "Daniel, you can't do this! I am her father! I have rights!"
"You gave up your rights, Grant," I said, watching as the deputies led him away down the central corridor, "the day you made my granddaughter cry."
