Read Online The Reform Artists: A Legal Suspense, Spy Thriller (The Reform Artists Series Book 1) by Jon Reisfeld - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jon Reisfeld
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It’s that simple. The charge stems directly from how the behavior makes the victim feel. And how can you dispute someone else’s feelings? You can’t.”
“But, Katie,” Esther said, “Marty is a reasonable man. Why not do this nicely? Why do you have to make everything so ugly and mean spirited?”
Katie sat down at the table now and took her mother’s hand. “If I could do this nicely, Mother, don’t you think I would? Marty’s far too attached to the kids. He loves them and will not allow me to end this marriage, or give me full custody, without a fight. He makes a lot of money, Mom, and the children deserve to get as much financial support from their father as the law allows.
“If he were to get angry enough over this, he might try to hurt me by refusing to provide full support for the kids. I have a parental responsibility to protect them from that.”
“Why would Marty do such a thing?” Esther asked. “He loves the children. I can’t imagine him denying them anything.”
At that, Katie forcefully withdrew her hand from her mother’s—as if the older woman had suddenly contracted Leprosy. “Whose side are you on, Mom?”
“Well,” Esther began, a bit startled and fumbling for the right words, “I-I’m on the kids’ side, of course...and yours, too, dear. After all, you are...my blood.”
“Glad to hear it, Mom!” Katie said with more than a hint of sarcasm. She closed her eyes and sighed deeply. Then, she leaned forward, opened her eyes again and, once more, took her mother’s hands in hers.
“I’m glad you feel that way,” she said, a smile slowly returning to her face, “because the last thing those kids need now would be to lose their grandmother, too.”
Chapter 9
Late Wednesday morning, Swindell called Martin at work with the details of the settlement offer he had received the previous afternoon.
“These are the main points,” he began. “Your wife wants to make the temporary custody arrangement you now have permanent. She wants substantial child support payments from you, free use of the family home for three years, your promise never to come inside the house again—under any circumstances—and an agreement acknowledgin’ your mutual consent to begin seein’ other people immediately.
“In return,” Swindell continued, “her attorney, Beverly West, said your wife would agree to drop the domestic violence charges now before the court and grant you the standard ‘weekend warrior’s’ allotment of time with your kids: dinner one night a week and visitation every other weekend.
“What do you think?” Swindell asked, with carefully suppressed anticipation.
“I think she’s out of her effing mind! I want you to have a detective tail her for a couple of days. I’m pretty sure, based on her offer, that she’s been having an affair.”
“Of course,” Swindell said, positively glowing inside.
“I also want you to reject her offer out of hand.”
“Are you sure?” Swindell asked, in a last ditch, half-hearted attempt to appear impartial.
“Have you been smoking something other than those Honduran cigars I saw on your desk the other day?”
“OK,” Swindell said, with a chuckle, “but there’s somethin’ else you need to know.”
“What’s that?”
“Even if the detective can prove your wife has been committin' adultery, Mahr-tin, Maryland law still does not consider that to be sufficient grounds for awardin’ custody to the father.”
“Naturally,” Martin said. “Why should I be surprised? What if she had been convicted of prostitution?”
“Then, maybe , you’d have the beginnin’ of a case.”
“The news just keeps getting better and better,” Martin said, in disgust.
“Yes, it does,” Swindell chimed in, with barely hidden enthusiasm. “Yes, it does.”
Swindell hung up the phone and immediately logged the call and the details of his conversation with Martin into his desktop computer’s case-management program. He used
“But, Katie,” Esther said, “Marty is a reasonable man. Why not do this nicely? Why do you have to make everything so ugly and mean spirited?”
Katie sat down at the table now and took her mother’s hand. “If I could do this nicely, Mother, don’t you think I would? Marty’s far too attached to the kids. He loves them and will not allow me to end this marriage, or give me full custody, without a fight. He makes a lot of money, Mom, and the children deserve to get as much financial support from their father as the law allows.
“If he were to get angry enough over this, he might try to hurt me by refusing to provide full support for the kids. I have a parental responsibility to protect them from that.”
“Why would Marty do such a thing?” Esther asked. “He loves the children. I can’t imagine him denying them anything.”
At that, Katie forcefully withdrew her hand from her mother’s—as if the older woman had suddenly contracted Leprosy. “Whose side are you on, Mom?”
“Well,” Esther began, a bit startled and fumbling for the right words, “I-I’m on the kids’ side, of course...and yours, too, dear. After all, you are...my blood.”
“Glad to hear it, Mom!” Katie said with more than a hint of sarcasm. She closed her eyes and sighed deeply. Then, she leaned forward, opened her eyes again and, once more, took her mother’s hands in hers.
“I’m glad you feel that way,” she said, a smile slowly returning to her face, “because the last thing those kids need now would be to lose their grandmother, too.”
Chapter 9
Late Wednesday morning, Swindell called Martin at work with the details of the settlement offer he had received the previous afternoon.
“These are the main points,” he began. “Your wife wants to make the temporary custody arrangement you now have permanent. She wants substantial child support payments from you, free use of the family home for three years, your promise never to come inside the house again—under any circumstances—and an agreement acknowledgin’ your mutual consent to begin seein’ other people immediately.
“In return,” Swindell continued, “her attorney, Beverly West, said your wife would agree to drop the domestic violence charges now before the court and grant you the standard ‘weekend warrior’s’ allotment of time with your kids: dinner one night a week and visitation every other weekend.
“What do you think?” Swindell asked, with carefully suppressed anticipation.
“I think she’s out of her effing mind! I want you to have a detective tail her for a couple of days. I’m pretty sure, based on her offer, that she’s been having an affair.”
“Of course,” Swindell said, positively glowing inside.
“I also want you to reject her offer out of hand.”
“Are you sure?” Swindell asked, in a last ditch, half-hearted attempt to appear impartial.
“Have you been smoking something other than those Honduran cigars I saw on your desk the other day?”
“OK,” Swindell said, with a chuckle, “but there’s somethin’ else you need to know.”
“What’s that?”
“Even if the detective can prove your wife has been committin' adultery, Mahr-tin, Maryland law still does not consider that to be sufficient grounds for awardin’ custody to the father.”
“Naturally,” Martin said. “Why should I be surprised? What if she had been convicted of prostitution?”
“Then, maybe , you’d have the beginnin’ of a case.”
“The news just keeps getting better and better,” Martin said, in disgust.
“Yes, it does,” Swindell chimed in, with barely hidden enthusiasm. “Yes, it does.”
Swindell hung up the phone and immediately logged the call and the details of his conversation with Martin into his desktop computer’s case-management program. He used
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