Chapter 2 - The Old Man’s Office
While Daniel Brooks was securing my medical files and freezing the emergency custody injunction at the county courthouse, across the state, my father sat in the living room of his modest, sun-faded home.
The room smelled of old paper, pipe tobacco, and peppermint tea. Rows of heavy law books lined the walls, their spines worn from decades of reference. On the desk sat an old rotary telephone beside a modern encrypted terminal—the direct line he had maintained with federal investigators long after his official retirement.
His phone buzzed.
Dad picked it up on the first ring.
“Arthur,” a deep, gravelly voice echoed from the earpiece. “We got the ping. The Bennetts’ corporate legal team just filed an ex parte motion in the local district court. They’re trying to lock Claire out before morning.”
Dad didn't raise his voice. He didn't curse. He simply adjusted his reading glasses, his hands completely steady.
“Are the local judges compromised, Miller?” Dad asked quietly.
“Judge Harrison owes Marcus’s uncle a favor from the last municipal zoning board expansion,” Miller replied. “They were planning to push the hearing through at 8:00 AM tomorrow before Claire could even retain counsel.”
A faint, dangerous glint appeared in my father’s faded blue eyes.
“Harrison likes his jurisdiction quiet,” Dad said softly. “Tell him Arthur Hayes is coming back to court. Remind him what happened to the last municipal judge in District 4 who tried to fast-track a fraudulent family law ruling to protect corporate donors.”
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A heavy pause hung on the line, followed by a sharp intake of breath. “You’re pulling that file out of retirement?”
“They broke my daughter’s ribs,” Dad said, his voice dropping into a register that brook no argument. “And they think they can steal her child. Clear the docket, Miller. We’re going to war.”
