“Whoever Dr. Lawson consulted was right,” she said. “There’s virtually no relevant case law. Which means that even if a judge found in your favor an appeals court could easily find in hers. So I suggest you explore her proposal of a joint custody agreement very thoroughly before you reject it.”
“But I just can’t see any way one could work. Not with her in a different country.”
“Did you ask if she’d be willing to move back to the U.S.?”
“I didn’t come right out and ask, but I got the distinct impression it’s not an option. She told me how important the clinic and the people down there are to her. And if that’s where she sees her future, it makes her suggestion…”
The word on the tip of his tongue was ludicrous, but instead of saying it, he merely shrugged.
“She didn’t get any more specific about what she has in mind?” Doris asked. “Nothing more than you’ve already told me? Didn’t say how much time she wants?”
“No.”
“Then maybe things aren’t as bad as you think. She’s a single woman with a demanding career. And she knows as well as you do that nothing like Robbie alternating a week with her, a week with you, is possible. So she could be thinking more along the lines of a month or two a year.”
“I doubt it, although I could live with that. I wouldn’t like it, but…”
He paused, shaking his head. With Doris basically suggesting that he was probably looking at some sort of joint custody, what he’d like or wouldn’t like didn’t really matter.
“I have the sense that she wants him at least half the time,” he continued. “And once he starts school he’ll have to be in one place or the other for that, which throws even half-and-half out the window. School’s ten months a year, not six.”
After pausing again, he added, “I doubt there’s a hope in hell that she’d settle for only summer vacations. Not even summer vacations and Christmas.”
And he wouldn’t voluntarily agree to so little, either, which made it seem obvious that they had an insurmountable stumbling block.
“Guatemala’s a poor country,” Doris said. “She’ll be aware the education system here is far superior, and she undoubtedly wants the best for her child.”
“I’ve thought about that, and I’ll certainly use it as an argument. Even if I convince her, though…maybe she’d agree to only a little time at first. But what if that turned out to just be the proverbial thin edge of the wedge? What if she pushed for more and more until I eventually lost him entirely?”
“It could happen,” Doris said gently. “The problem is, you haven’t really got a choice.
“She’s already warned you that if you don’t work something out with her, she’ll apply for interim custody. And if she was awarded it—”
“Wait!” he interrupted, feeling a sudden pounding in his chest.
When Natalie had raised that possibility, he’d assumed it was highly unlikely. But if Doris thought…
“Do you figure she would be?” he made himself ask.
“I doubt the odds are high, but she certainly might be. Regardless of that, though, consider the final result if you go to court.
“Instead of an agreement the two of you arrive at, a third party will impose the rules. And keep in mind that, under the circumstances, there’s absolutely no doubt a judge would grant her some amount of access to Robbie. The only question is how much.”
“How much would you guess?”
Doris shook her head. “Since there aren’t any real precedents, it would be pretty well up to the particular judge. Worst-case scenario, she’d be named the permanent primary guardian.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I’m afraid I am. I don’t believe in deluding my clients, Hank. If this ends up in a courtroom, there’ll be the risk of your losing custody. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Until you have the results of the DNA testing…”
“They’re only going to confirm what I already know,” he said, the pounding in his chest even harder now. “I went through that report very carefully last night, and Rodger Spicer did a thorough job. I’d say the chance that Robbie isn’t Natalie’s son is about one in a million.”
“Then let’s consider how this might play out in a courtroom. Even assuming she is his mother, you have several things going for you. You’ve been the single constant in the boy’s life since he was six months old. And despite your divorce and shift work, you’ve managed to provide a stable home environment.
“Judges are reluctant to order custody changes when things are going smoothly. So, assuming your relationship with Robbie is as good as you claim—”
“It is,” he assured her. “And he adores Audrey Chevalier.”
“Then, if this was an ordinary instance of a birth mother trying to reclaim her child, Natalie Lawson wouldn’t have a prayer.”
“But it’s not ordinary at all.”
“Exactly. You only have him because those nuns made a mistake. And as soon as Natalie learned about it she hired a private detective to locate him. Plus she’s a professional woman who can support him and provide a loving home.”
“In a village in Guatemala,” Hank muttered.
Doris nodded again. “That’s something else you have on your side. If she was awarded custody, she’d take him to a foreign country. He’d be totally uprooted, living in Spanish-speaking surroundings, and you’d rarely be able to see him.
“Yet if she is his birth mother, and never even considered giving him up for adoption…Some judges would find that awfully hard to get past.”
Hank stared at the floor, thinking that if this ended up in court it sure wouldn’t be the sort of legal proceeding he was used to.
As a detective, he dealt with facts that added up to either guilty or innocent. But this case wasn’t merely a question of facts.
Considerable weight would be given to extenuating circumstances. And one particular judge’s mind-set would be critical.
The subjectiveness of that made him very, very anxious.
Focusing on Doris again, he said, “So what do I do?”
“Absolutely nothing until you get those lab results. But if they do prove she’s his mother, here’s what I’d suggest.”
IT WAS THE HEIGHT of the afternoon rush hour when Hank’s meeting with Doris Wagner ended, and heading through the parking garage, he decided there wasn’t much point in starting for New Jersey just yet. The commute to his place took a minimum of forty-five minutes when the traffic was light.
Besides, he could do with a little extra time to think—and someone to bounce things around with—before he got home and had to face Audrey’s questions. She was so worried about the possibility of losing Robbie that she’d have a million of them.
He reached his Blazer and climbed in, then took his phone from his pocket and pressed the speed dial for Travis Quinn’s cellular.
Travis and he were the best of buddies, as well as partners, and Travis had a knack for seeing situations clearly. Unless the situation involved Celeste, of course.
Last fall, Celeste had been the prime suspect in a homicide they’d investigated. Yet the moment Travis had laid eyes on her something had short-circuited in his brain, making him absolutely refuse to even consider the possibility she could be guilty.
Fortunately, it had turned out she wasn’t.