CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“All rise. The honorable Judge Schmitt presiding. Court is now in session.”
Conner watched as a man with a long face, gray hair and a black robe walked in front of the wood-paneled wall. Flanked by the U.S. flag and blue Michigan state flag, the man took a seat in a big leather chair behind a table.
Looking sharp in a navy suit and maroon blouse, Melodie remained standing. “May it please the court, Melodie Bennett is representing Conner Walker, who seeks to obtain full custody of his minor child, Skye Kaylee Walker.”
“Her name’s Skye Kaylee Moon,” Gola said from the table beside them and Conner ground his molars. Already she was re-writing history.
The judge clicked his gavel. “Order.”
Gola raised her hand. “I’m her mother and I just want my baby girl back.”
The judge looked at her. “Please allow your lawyer to speak for you until you are on the witness stand.”
“Yes, sir.” Gola bowed her head. “Sorry.”
The judge flipped open a file folder. “For the record, what is the legal name of the minor child?”
Melodie looked at Conner as if she didn’t know whether to trust him or not. He knew there was no way Gola had bothered to legally change Skye’s last name. When he nodded, Melodie answered, “Skye Kaylee Walker.”
“Call your first witness.”
Her left eye twitching nervously, Melodie gestured for him to go forward. He raised his right hand and swore to tell the truth. His heart beat heavily beneath the gray suit he’d found in his grandfather’s closet. He needed to choose his words carefully to ensure he got his daughter back. The problem was, Melodie had instructed him to be honest. He worried honesty would not play well for him.
“Mr. Walker, please tell me the last time you saw your daughter, Skye.”
"Thanksgiving night. She fell and broke her arm so I took her to the urgent care clinic. While I was there, the nurse practitioner called the sheriff and he took her away.” He was hoping his little girl would be in the courtroom today, but Melodie had told him the judge wouldn’t allow it.
“Why did the sheriff take your daughter?” Her eye twitched again.
“Because her mother filed a false police report claiming I’d kidnapped her.”
Gola pointed her finger at him. “You did kidnap her.”
The gavel knocked the judge’s desk again. “Miss Moon, I’m losing my patience. You will have your chance to speak.”
Squaring her shoulders. Melodie continued with her prepared questions. “Are you the biological father of Skye?”
“Of course.” Remembering her earlier instructions, he added, “Yes.”
“How long has she lived with you?”
“For almost three years.”
“And where was her mother during that time?”
“In prison. She was in a coma from a drunk driving accident when I took Skye. The doctors said she probably wouldn’t recover.”
“So you did what you thought was right. You took care of your daughter when her mother was unable to do so.”
“Yes.” He turned toward the elderly judge. “Please let me have her back. I don’t know where she is. They won’t tell me.”
“Mr. Walker, I will make my determination on custody regarding the minor child after I have heard all of the evidence.”
Conner balled his hands into fists where no one could see them. The formality of the courtroom frustrated him. Why couldn’t he just say what he wanted to say?
Melodie took a step closer to him. “Mr. Conner, are you willing and able to provide a loving, stable home for your daughter?”
“That’s what I’ve been doing.”
“So that’s a yes.”
Oh, he’d messed up again. “Yes.”
“Do you believe you can provide a more loving and stable home than your ex-wife, Gola Moon?”
“Definitely. She almost killed Skye by driving drunk. She cares more about her boyfriends and partying than being a good mother.”
“And do you have a girlfriend?” Melodie’s brown eyes seemed to focus on him as if she were especially interested in this answer.
“No. I haven’t dated anyone since I took in Skye. She’s all that matters to me.”
“And you took her to get medical treatment knowing that it might risk your custody?”
He nodded. “I knew there was a chance that Gola might challenge my custody. I heard she had a private investigator snooping around.”
“Even so, you remained in town. Why was that?”
“I grew up here. It’s a small town where everybody knows everybody. That means it’s a great place to raise kids.”
“I understand you used to have a drinking problem. Is that under control?”
She had warned him that she’d have to bring this up. She said it was better that they did rather than waiting for Gola’s lawyer to mention it. He inhaled a deep breath. “Yes. When I was younger, I drank too much. But as soon as I heard Skye needed me, I stopped. I go to AA meetings. I haven’t touched a drink in almost three years.”
Gola harrumphed.
Melodie looked at the judge. “According to the Michigan Child Custody Act of 1970, the best interest of a child is served by awarding custody to a parent known to them as opposed to a third party. Since Conner Walker is the only parent Skye has known for the past three years, I ask that the court return the minor child to his custody immediately.”
“No!” Gola shouted.
The judge banged his gavel while looking at Gola’s lawyer. “Advise your client to control herself or I’ll have her removed. You may now cross-examine Mr. Walker.”
The twentysomething man with a black suit and red tie switched places with Melodie. “Mr. Walker, where are you employed?”
“I’m not working right now. I inherited my grandparents’ farm, so I’m busy handling that. Plus this way I’m there for Skye when she gets home from school.”
“What was your last job?”
“Working in a restaurant.”
“And were you home every day when Skye finished school?”
“When I could be.”
“That means no. How long did you hold your last job?”
“Two months.”
“And what job did you have before that?”
“Driving a truck.”
The young man tweaked his tie with confidence. “And how long did you hold that position?”
“Four or five months.”
“Were you home when Skye got off the school bus then?”
“No, but the neighbor lady watched her.”
“What job did you have before that?”
“Working as a cook in another restaurant.”
“How long did you hold that job?”
The judge cleared his throat. “You’ve made your point. Move it along.”
The young man acted chagrined. “Mr. Walker, why were you constantly switching jobs? Were you hiding from someone?”
Conner checked Melodie’s face for guidance, but couldn’t read her. “Gola was in prison. Why would I be hiding?” He saw his neighbor’s face relax and he knew he’d nailed it.
“And yet you kept uprooting your daughter over and over again. That doesn’t sound like a very stable environment to me.” He took a few steps to the side as he transitioned to another line of questioning. “Mr. Walker, can you tell the court why the fire department was called out to your house on November fifth?”
He clenched his jaw. “Skye accidentally put something metal in the microwave.”
“And where were you when she did this?”
He felt the blood throbbing in the vein in his neck. “I had stepped out for a minute.”
“So you were just outside? Were you in the barn?”
“No.”
“Were you on the porch?”
“No.”
“Where were you when your eight-year-old daughter nearly burned your house down and killed herself?”
&n
bsp; “It wasn’t like that. She knew to call 911.”
The smug attorney shook his head in dismay. “It doesn’t sound to me like you provide a very stable or safe home.”
“I was at an AA meeting, okay? I know now that she wasn’t old enough to be left home alone. It was an accident.”
“It was an accident that you left your eight-year-old daughter home alone?”
“No. The fire was an accident. It was a mistake for me to leave her.”
“Do you make those kinds of parenting mistakes often, Mr. Walker?”
“Of course not!” His voice rose and he saw Melodie jerk her head to the side in warning. He settled down. “I love Skye. When I was her age, I took care of my grandfather’s farm whenever he went to the state fair or to an auction. I thought Skye was responsible enough to stay at home for an hour by herself, but I know now that I was wrong. I won’t ever do that again.”
“And yet a few weeks later, you brought that same child for emergency medical care because she’d broken her arm. Where were you when she broke her arm?”
“I was at the neighbor’s house—just for a minute.”
“Just for a minute. In just a minute, your daughter started a fire and broke her arm while she was under your supervision. How can you say that you’d be the better parent over her own mother?”
“Because her mother never cared about her.”
“So you say. Before these last two and a half years, how involved were you in your daughter’s life?”
His throat felt raw and dry. “Not very.”
“Did you take her to the park?”
“No.”
“Did you teach her how to throw a ball?”
“No.”
“Did you help select her preschool?”
“No.”
“Where were you, Mr. Conner, during your daughter’s formative years? From 18 months until age six?”
“I wasn’t around.”
“Don’t you mean that you abandoned this daughter you claim to care for so much? You left her mother alone to raise her?”
Conner fidgeted in the hard, wooden chair. “I guess so. But I know now it was a mistake.”
“Another one of Conner Walker’s parenting mistakes.” The lawyer rolled his eyes. “That makes three that we know of.” He put his hands on the railing in front of the witness stand and stared him down. “How much child support did you send to Gola Moon during those years that you weren’t around?”
“None. She never asked for any.”
“And when you divorced, who was awarded full custody of Skye?”
He fidgeted again. When the divorce papers came his way, he’d signed them in the blink of an eye, without bothering to read them. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? How can you not know who has custody of your only child?” The attorney’s hands flailed around for emphasis. “The child you say you can provide a loving, stable environment for? You don’t know?”
“I’m sure Gola got custody.”
“Until you stole Skye from her. And that is why you haven’t held down a job for more than a few months at a time. That is why you keep moving around. You have been intentionally hiding the minor child from her mother. Isn’t that right?”
Conner shook his head, but he didn’t know what to say. It was true. He was afraid when it came to a legal battle, he might lose.
The lawyer cocked his head at him. “This wasn’t the first time Child Protective Services has been called on you, is it?”
Oh God. “No.” He took a breath. “When we lived in Indiana, Skye fell off her bike and broke her arm. The doctor said Skye must’ve broken her arm before but not had treatment. She called CPS then. But the point is, I took her to the doctor. She must’ve broken her arm when she was with Gola, but Gola didn’t bother to take her to get a cast. Because of Gola’s neglect, Skye’s arm healed poorly.”
The lawyer shook his head. “There is no proof of that. And you said you took her to the doctor. Are you the one who took Skye to the doctor in Indiana?”
This was going so badly, his head hurt. “No. The neighbor lady, the one who babysat for me, took Skye. I was at work. A man has to work to provide for his family, doesn’t he?”
“Who was providing for your family when you abandoned them, Mr. Walker? Do you know? Do you care?”
His hands fisted again, but Melodie’s face pleaded with him to remain calm.
“How many times have you hit your ex-wife, Mr. Walker?”
He started to stand in protest. “I never hit that woman.” Melodie gestured for him to calm down. His heart slammed against his chest as he sat on the edge of the chair.
“Then why did she file a restraining order against you?”
“Because she’s crazy. It was when we were splitting up. She told me to come get my stuff from the apartment, then she barricaded the door to make me angry. I forced my way in because she had no right to keep me out.”
“And you hit her.”
“No I did not!” But he’d sure been tempted.
The lawyer marched over to the table where Gola sat and rifled through some papers. He held up a photo of Gola with a black eye and presented it to Conner, then the judge. “What caused this?”
“I swear I never laid a hand on her. Just because a woman has a black eye, doesn’t mean her husband hit her.”
“You’re implying that someone else hit her?”
Conner shrugged. He suspected Gola had made the bruise herself, but he knew no one would believe that. “I don’t know.”
“You sound like a father who makes a lot of mistakes. Mr. Walker. Why should the court trust you to take care of Skye? Don’t you think a little girl needs her mother?”
“A father is just as important as a mother.”
“Really? Would you consider joint custody?”
He knew telling the truth would hurt him. This was why he’d never wanted to waste his time with the courts. “I don’t think joint custody is what’s best for Skye.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“They hurt us today,” Melodie said as they sat at her kitchen table. “We need witnesses who can testify to how devoted a father you are. Friends, teachers, ministers—anyone who‘s seen the two of you together.”
Her neighbor loosened his tie and placed his ill-fitting suit coat over the back of a chair. “Ever since I took in Skye, I’ve kept to myself.” He picked up the ink pen in front of him and pushed the button against the table. Click, click, click, click. A moment later, he pointed the pen at her. “I know. Frankie, I mean Sheriff Frankel, can testify as to my character. We go way back.”
“Has he seen you interacting with Skye?”
“Not much. He came out the night of the fire, but that wasn’t exactly a stellar moment.”
She made a note on her computer. “Well, a member of law enforcement as a character witness can’t hurt. How do you know him?”
“We went to high school together. More like we skipped classes and got into trouble together.” The memory of being young and carefree appeared to bring a smile to his face.
Frustrated with him, she lowered her eyebrows. “That doesn’t sound like he can testify as to what a good role model you’ll be for your daughter. Who else? Who else can talk about how you are now—now that you’ve matured.”
“Mrs. Tandy called me to school one day about Skye. Skye was sad that I was talking about moving. That’s one reason why we stayed, even though that private investigator was sniffing around.”
“Okay, so Mrs. Tandy, a respected teacher, can speak on your behalf.”
“She probably won’t have much to say. She knows me more from my misguided youth.”
She shook her head. “This is critical. According to Michigan law, there are twelve points which determine a child’s legal custody. You might think you have the love, affection and emotional ties down, but the opposition will make a case that lying to your daughter about her mother’s whereabouts was not the act of love. In fa
ct, I think you should volunteer to take her to counseling to help her adjust to the news that her mother is alive and well.”
“I’ll do whatever I need to.” He paused, probably wondering if Skye had been told about her mother by now. “I know I should’ve told her. Like I said, at first, I thought she was gonna die. When she miraculously pulled through, she got sentenced to prison. It never seemed like a good time to bring it up to Skye.”
“As you heard today, you’ve also failed to provide a stable environment since you’ve been moving around so much. And the allegations of domestic violence will hurt you if the judge believes it.”
Again, he pointed the pen at her. “I never hit her.”
“I’ve certainly never seen any evidence of a temper, but you’re not exactly looking calm in the courtroom. You need to relax and only answer exactly what’s asked. Don’t extrapolate. Don’t let opposing counsel get a rise out of you. Now, is there any way to disprove the allegation of domestic abuse?”
“I know I’m not the only guy she accused. The courts probably have a lot of restraining orders filed by Gola. Could that help?”
Melodie typed into her computer. “Maybe. If we can show a pattern of false accusations, that would certainly aid your case. But they could counter that she was a woman with a pattern of choosing abusers for boyfriends.”
“Gola’s no victim. I think she’s been married at least two other times and I wouldn’t put it past her to pull the same stunt with them that she did with me. Invite them over, then lock ‘em out and call the cops.”
She nodded. “Okay. You need more witnesses who can talk about what kind of father you are. Can’t you think of anyone who knows you? What about that babysitter that you mentioned today? The one in Indiana that took Skye to the hospital when she broke her arm?”
He stroked his five o’clock shadow. “Bethany.”
# # #
It took Bethany an hour and a half to get to the courthouse across the state line. The white stone building had a copper dome, glinting in the morning sun, and a clock with Roman numerals on top. Once inside, marble floors, murals and stained glass surrounded her, making her feel as if she were inside a historical monument.
She asked a uniformed security guard to point her to the appropriate family court room and she walked up the worn, but grand marble staircase to the third floor. As soon as she stepped inside the room, the four people sitting at two separate tables turned to look at her. Gola raised an eyebrow. At the other table, Beth’s former neighbor tugged at his collar, looking guilty.
A Mother's Conviction (Secrets Series Book 3) Page 19