Doing It Over (Most Likely To #1)(87)

“It certainly appears as if Nathan has wrapped himself in lies and is trying to dig his way out and earn some respect along the way. If he can prove you took Hope away from him, that he attempted to help you and you refused—”

“None of that happened.”

“He said, she said. Courts have to look at everything presented in front of them. The divorce is the easy part. It’s Hope Nathan needs for leverage. Proving you’re unfit gives him that leverage.”

“I’m not!”

“Of course you’re not, darlin’. We all know that. Let me tell you what a court is going to hear when it’s all in front of them.”

She waited, knew he wasn’t going to be kind.

“He will start with the marriage that you say never happened. The court will show you this,” he tapped the paper and continued, “and ask you to prove it’s a lie.”

“He said, she said,” Melanie muttered.

“Exactly.”

“Then he’ll say you left him . . . or moved when he was away . . . or whatever he needs to do to look good in court.”

“All a lie.”

“Did you move away?” William asked.

“Well, yeah, like I said. I couldn’t afford where we were without his help.”

“Nothing he can’t twist. Nothing I couldn’t twist if I were on his side,” he explained. “So you moved away, he continued with school, maybe he shows a little remorse about not trying harder to find you and his daughter. Or maybe he has something up his sleeve to make him look good at this point. Then you leave the state with his daughter without his knowledge.”

She was afraid of what he was going to say next. “I didn’t kidnap my own kid.”

“I doubt he’d use that. But it has happened. Nathan finds you here, decides you’re not doing right by his child. You have a home for Hope, but that has proven unsafe in the current situation. Your boyfriend.” William nudged Wyatt’s arm with a frown. “Your boyfriend here enjoys bar fights.”

“No charges, Dad.”

“Right . . . because the town sheriff is an old friend of Melanie’s. And small towns take care of their own. Lots of witnesses saw that the fight happened. And how safe is Hope in a house with a man who drinks in a bar and gets into fights.”

“Dad . . . it didn’t happen like that.”

“I know that. But the court will hear every detail of that fight from several people. The job of Nathan’s lawyer is to paint Melanie as a bad and unfit mom. Cases have been won on less.”

Melanie ran a hand through her hair. “How do I fight it?”

William tapped the marriage certificate. “We stop it here. If we can prove this is fraud, that Nathan is lying from this point forward, the rest will be easy.”

“How do we do that?”

William’s smile flattened to a straight line and a shiver went up her spine.

“You want me to talk to him.”

“Confessions are best obtained by those who know the truth.”

“Recordings without the other person’s approval aren’t admissible in court,” Wyatt said.

“Glad you’ve been paying attention. You’re right. But once the jury hears of a confession and are told to ‘forget’ about it . . . do they? No. That’s why lawyers let things slip from time to time.”

The last person she wanted to talk to was Nathan. “So when do we schedule this little meeting?”

“The sooner the better.”

That’s what she was afraid he was going to say.





Clouds were starting to roll in, and according to the forecast the rain would come and go for the better part of the week. The weather fit Wyatt’s mood.

Hope, Miss Gina, and Melanie were playing with Sir Knight in the thick of the lawn, while he and his father continued to chat.

“Has Jo had any luck with the investigation?”

“She’s been quiet lately. The Feds have a couple of things they’re following up on.”

“Anything you can share?” his father asked.

“The ink on Lewis’s arm came back. An Englishman . . . aristocrat kind of guy who served some time when he was younger but has evaded prison ever since.” Wyatt wasn’t convinced he was the same man they were searching for.

“Did Lewis have an accent?”

“No. Not that I heard. But he did seem to have a superiority about him. And according to Melanie his table manners stuck out as strangely elite.”

“You mean he had them?” his father asked with a half grin.

“Yeah.”

“So what was the man’s crime of choice?”

Funny how his father had a way of making a criminal sound like he was picking candy from a counter.

Wyatt closed his eyes briefly. “An early accusation of messing with his young niece had his hand slapped. Another incident had him booked but the charges were dropped.”

“Damn, son.” William glanced again at Hope. “You don’t think . . .”

“No. Hope remembers him pushing her down the hill in great detail but has said nothing about anything more.” As if trying to kill her wasn’t enough.

His father stared at her for a few minutes before asking, “Why are you staying here?”