Chapter 35-2

893 Words
Brad was finishing a ham and cheese sandwich when Crystal strode in, dropping her leather coat on the chair and dumping her purse on the table. She kissed his cheek. “Surprise.” She dropped two tickets on the table. “What’s this?” He picked them up and opened the flap. “The Cook Islands; I booked us a beachside resort for ten days, nothing but sunshine, beach and being pampered, you and me.” She traced her long painted nails up his arm. “You’re unbelievable.” He pushed away his plate, threw down the tickets and walked out. He was determined to do this right and heed his lawyer’s advice to walk away from a fight. It was hard, especially the way she goaded him. He phoned Keith again and yelled. “Hurry and get me that court date. I want her out of my house.” Brad cancelled Crystal’s credit cards and emptied their joint bank account, and removed his name from the account. It was now solely hers. And he left firm instructions with the manager of the bank; she no longer had access to any of his funds. She’d stormed into the house when he was in his office. She’d thrown her purse at him, then a book, and anything else she could grab. “You asshole, I was in the city shopping for a new pair of shoes and my card was declined. Do you have any idea how embarrassing that is? I tried every card and each one was declined. The manager was called and she took my cards and cut them up.” Brad leaned his head back and howled. He laughed so hard tears leaked out. “I’d have paid good money to see that, baby.” Of course, she grabbed his jade bookend and launched it at his head, he ducked thank goodness, and the glass unit behind him shattered. Of course, the very next day, Brad’s lawyer received a very angry call from her lawyer. A demand for maintenance for his client or they’d be suing him for damages. It was going to get nasty. “Brad, listen to me, she’s already seeking full custody of Trevor. But now, according to her lawyer, she’ll rescind this if you agree to drop the suit to divorce her, reinstate her credit cards, and give full access to your bank account.” “Keith, she’s dreaming. I’m done with her; I’m not giving her anything.” Brad squeezed his cell phone as he stomped out of the barn. “Let me finish. It gets worse. According to her lawyer, Crystal’s alleging undue cruelty to Trevor through this ABA therapy treatment you started. It seems they’re able to track down some experts who’ll cite recent claims that it leaves these children not only robotic, but also scarred with devastating long-term effects; like a syndrome similar to what veterans from the war suffer.” “I’m going in the house right now and I’m throwing her out. Trevor’s with my parents. Let her fight me from somewhere else.” Keith shouted so loud Brad lifted the phone away from his ear. “I told you before to cool your temper. You make a, stupid ass, move like that and I guarantee you’ll spend the night cooling your butt in a holding cell. And I’ll leave you there. Then she’ll have a restraining order against you by morning, before you get out of lockup. The locks will be changed on your house and she’ll have a fast track to gaining full custody of Trevor.” When Brad hung up, ice water could have flowed through his veins. He shoveled out a few horse stalls before he’d calmed down, and then he called Keith back. “Listen Keith, you mentioned something about some experts who said this therapy for Trevor causes some war vet syndrome.” Keith let out a heavy sigh. “Brad, there was a court battle in Canada a few years back. A group of parents took the government to court to obtain medically necessary treatment for their autistic children. The court battle went to the Supreme Court of Canada. In the Auton case, The Supreme Court in BC dismissed the information Crystal’s using from these experts as not valid, yet it was still published. Your Lovaas ABA therapy has been proven genuine, so we’ll use her theory against her. But the judge may be swayed by her interest as a mother torn, not wanting the therapy, by all the perilous misinformation that’s out there.” “Listen up, Brad. I’m going to warn you again, because she knows which buttons to push to set you off; control that temper of yours, be smart, think before you say anything, and above all call me if you’re not sure.” That last remark had brought a slight smile to his lips. Keith knew him well—too well sometimes. “Plan B, I’ve hired a private detective I used to work with in Seattle. I guarantee you he’ll dig and find any deep dark secret and skeleton we can use on Crystal.” Brad kicked at a pile of manure. “Keith, something’s been bothering me—Crystal coming back when she did and knowing things that were going on at the ranch she shouldn’t have. I don’t know, it’s as if she’s got someone on the inside feeding her information.” “I’ll get Byrd, my guy in Seattle, to check it out.” Brad stared at the house he loved with such venom. “Thanks, Keith.” He pocketed his phone and grabbed a rake. “May as well clean out the rest of these stalls.”
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