Chapter 4 - The Reckoning in Courtroom 402
Judge Barbara Hayes was a sixty-year-old former criminal prosecutor with silver hair cut into a sharp bob and eyes that could bore through armor plate. She sat behind the elevated wooden bench, reviewing the emergency motions spread before her with a look of profound distaste.
Evan sat at the respondent’s table, looking small and isolated beside Harrison Cross. Linda had been forced to sit in the gallery behind them, her arms folded tightly over her fur coat, glaring at the back of my head.
“Mr. Cross,” Judge Hayes began, her voice echoing through the wood-paneled room. “I have read your response to the emergency protective order. You are asserting that your client, Mr. Mercer, was illegally locked out of his marital residence by Mrs. Mercer and a cadre of private security guards?”
“That is correct, Your Honor,” Cross said, standing up and smoothing his jacket. “My client was celebrating a business milestone with family and friends when Mrs. Mercer appeared with law enforcement, produced a questionable court order, and evicted him without due process. Furthermore, Mr. Mercer holds a valid, notarized lease agreement executed by his mother—”
“Stop right there, Mr. Cross,” Judge Hayes interrupted, raising a single finger. She picked up a sheet of paper from her desk. “Are you referring to the lease agreement notarized by Mr. Albert Vance on November fourteenth?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Mr. Cross, are you aware that Mr. Albert Vance passed away in January of last year?”
A heavy, suffocating silence descended on the courtroom.
Harrison Cross froze. He slowly turned his head to look at Evan, then looked back up at the bench. “Your Honor... I... my firm was not made aware of the notary’s status prior to this morning.”
“I suggest you check your filings more carefully in the future, counsel,” Judge Hayes said, her voice dropping into a register of quiet thunder. “Because submitting a forged legal instrument to this court is a felony. I have already received confirmation from the State Police Fraud Division that an active criminal investigation has been opened regarding this document.”
Linda let out a faint, strangled gasp from the gallery.
“Your Honor—” Cross tried to speak, but Judge Hayes slammed her gavel down once.
“Silence!” she commanded. She shifted her glare to Evan. “Mr. Mercer, step up to the podium.”
Evan stood up on trembling legs, walking slowly to the wooden microphone stand in the center of the room. He looked like he was about to vomit.
“Mr. Mercer,” Judge Hayes said, leaning over her bench. “I have reviewed the photographs of Mrs. Mercer’s injuries from the night of October twelfth. I have reviewed the audio recording of the 911 call placed from your residence. And I have reviewed the bank records showing the unauthorized transfer of nearly two hundred thousand dollars from your wife’s accounts.”
“Your Honor, I can explain—” Evan squeaked.
“You will not explain anything to me today, sir,” Judge Hayes snapped. “You will listen. Effective immediately, the emergency order of protection is extended for a period of two years. You are to have zero contact with Mrs. Mercer, direct or indirect. You are barred from entering within one thousand feet of the property at 1424 Greenwich Lane.”
Evan swallowed hard. “What about my kids? What about my visitation?”
“Visitation is suspended pending a full psychological evaluation and the outcome of the criminal domestic battery charges currently being prepared by the State’s Attorney,” Judge Hayes ruled without a second's hesitation. “Furthermore, this court orders an immediate freeze on all bank accounts associated with L&B Holdings, pending a full forensic audit.”
“No!” Linda screamed from the gallery, springing to her feet. “You can’t freeze those accounts! That’s my money! That’s my commercial property!”
“Bailiff!” Judge Hayes barked. “Remove that woman from my courtroom immediately and hold her in the detention cell for contempt!”
Two armed deputies stepped up behind Linda, grabbing her arms as she shrieked and kicked, her designer purse flying across the carpeted floor as she was dragged out through the heavy wooden doors.
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Evan collapsed into his chair at the counsel table, burying his face in his hands.
I sat at my table, my father’s hand resting firmly on my shoulder, and felt a cold, clean wave of relief wash over my soul. The legal battle was far from over, but the monsters were no longer in my house.
