I’d just finished reading the same paragraph in the motion for the fifth time.
Changes have occurred since the last custody judgment that necessitate a modification in the child visitation order. The changes were unknown at the time of the final decree and justify a revision to the custody arrangement.
It was the next part that had me sitting in my chair, rather than heading to Alexa’s apartment, because I feared what I was capable of after reading the rest.
Annexed hereto, paternity has been established for Levi Archer Bodine and not the defendant granted visitation in the final decree of custody.
The petitioner requests a modification from equal shared custody to allow the defendant visitation every other weekend for a period of eight hours. The increased visitation of the petitioner is to allow time for the introduction of the biological father to the minor subject child.
Further, the defendant’s shared custody should be reduced based upon recent incidents of child neglect. Namely, the defendant has engaged in conduct which put the subject child at risk by exposing the child to known criminals. As a direct result of that conduct, the subject child has been injured.
Wherefore, the petitioner has reason to be concerned about the safety of the minor subject child and requests an immediate modification of the custody decree.
The annexed documentation in support of the petition included a copy of the purported criminal’s most recent arrest and an emergency room report. The criminal was Emerie, and of course, it was only a partial copy of the charges of indecent exposure. There was no mention that she’d been a teenager or that the charge was reduced last month. In addition to that crock of shit, there was a copy of the emergency room report bearing the diagnosis of accidental burn, along with an affidavit from a nurse that verified Beck was brought in with his father and the woman who had been watching him at the time of the injury: Emerie Rose.
After the third time I reached voicemail, I couldn’t take it anymore and headed to Alexa’s in person. It wasn’t the smartest idea, considering the mood I was in, but I needed to have it out with her. I had only one thing to lord over this woman, but I had lots of it: money. I wasn’t above paying her to cut this shit out. Again. This little game was retaliation for telling her she couldn’t take Beck on a two-week tour following the NASCAR circuit. She needed to show me who was in control. I knew my ex-wife; she was cunning and all about making sure she had the upper hand. Our fight, and likely seeing Emerie, had left her feeling that I needed to be put in my place.
The first knock on her apartment door went unanswered and only served to piss me off and make me knock louder. After two impatient minutes, I took out my key. When I’d kicked Alexa out and rented her this place, I’d kept a key for myself. There’d never been an occasion to use it, but I was done with her avoiding me.
The lock was jammed, but after a minute of jiggling the key around, I felt some sense of relief hearing the loud clank as it slid open. Not wanting to get smacked in the head with a pan, I cracked the door open and yelled.
“Alexa?”
No answer.
A second time. “Alexa?”
The hallway was quiet, and there wasn’t a sound coming from inside the apartment. Deciding it was safe, I pushed the door open.
And my heart stopped when I saw what was inside.
Emerie
Something was going on.
Office doors had been slamming for the entire last half of my telephone counseling session. In the past ten minutes, yelling had started as well. One voice was a very pissed-off Drew, and the other was Roman, who’d recently arrived. He frequently did investigations for Drew, but whatever was happening seemed way more personal than just a case.
After apologizing again to my patients—lying and telling them I was going to have a word with the construction crew about their language—I hung up and started toward my closed office door. I stopped upon hearing my name.
“Emerie? What the hell has she got to do with this?”
“Alexa basically told the court that I’m sleeping with an ex-con.”
“An ex-con? What’d she do? Get a parking ticket?”
“It’s a long story, but she was arrested for indecency last month.”
“What?”
“Happened when she was a teenager. It was an appearance ticket for skinny dipping that turned into a warrant because she hadn’t paid it. It’s a misdemeanor…nothing more serious than a parking ticket. But, of course, Alexa is making it out to be something more. The petition calls her an ex-con with a penchant for indecent exposure. And she also added in that it was the same ex-con who recently caused Beck to get burned.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah. Fuck. That’s not the worst part. I could talk my way out of that in a New York court with the shit the judges hear here every day. But she filed the change of custody motion in Atlanta.”
“How can she do that when you both live here?”
“I just came from her apartment. She’s gone. Doorman said she left yesterday and gave a forwarding address. Her place is empty. She fucking moved!”