Unbreakable (City Lights, #2)(60)

Judge Walker sighed. “Sum it up, Mr. Jeffries.”

“Yes, Your Honor. Mr. Bishop has no current residence and a job that pays $44,000 per year, which is not enough to cover adequate housing expenses, child-support, never mind handle that enormous hospital bill in any meaningful way. Whereas Ms. Owens has secured housing, a job, and childcare in the form of a family relation in the town of Sitka. There is nothing to prevent Mr. Bishop from moving to said town as well, but there is very little keeping Ms. Owens or Callie here.”

“Very little,” scoffed a voice from the back of the courtroom, “but for the chance for Callie to see her father.”

I turned and watched Alex Gardener march up the divide between the benches. She looked stunning in a smart tailored suit of light blue that made her eyes stand out like chips of glass—hard glass that bored into Mr. Jeffries like little daggers. My heart tripped at the sight of her and then hurried to catch up.

Alex marched up to my table, laid her briefcase down, opened it, and pulled out a sheaf of documents, talking all the while.

“I apologize for my tardiness, Your Honor, but I vastly underestimated how crowded the Family Law Department can be.”

Judge Walker peered down his nose at her. “And you are?”

“Alexandra Gardener. I am Mr. Bishop’s attorney.”

“Since when?” Jeffries blurted.

“Give me a dollar,” Alex muttered under her breath to me.

“What?”

“A dollar. Give it to me.”

I fished out my wallet and handed her the money. Nothing had happened yet, nothing had changed, and yet I knew right then, as she took that dollar and smiled at me, that I wasn’t going to lose my little girl.

“Since right now,” Alex said, holding up the bill before stuffing it into her jacket pocked. “But because I’m a Type-A organizer, I filed the substitution prior to being officially hired. For the record my bar number is 34222, if the Court requires it, though I’d hazard a guess Your Honor would like to cease with the theatrics and get right to it.”

“He would,” said the judge.

“Excellent. But might I have a moment to confer with my client?”

“You may.”

I stared as Alex sat beside me and pulled a small collection of papers together. “Sign this,” she whispered, thrusting a pen at me.

“What are you doing here?”

A small smile played over her lips. “Doing what you hate: helping you. Sign.”

I glanced at the papers—a lease agreement. “What is this?”

“This is how Callie stays in L.A.,” she whispered. “Sign.”

Without waiting for my answer, she rose to her feet and addressed the judge, while I put my signature or initials on the documents where little yellow arrow-shaped tabs told me to.

“Your Honor, I don’t know what sort of allegations Mr…?”

“Jeffries.”

“Thank you, I’m still getting up to speed,” she laughed airily, and in the next instant her voice turned deadly serious. “I don’t know what sort of allegations Mr. Jeffries has leveled at my client but these are the facts as of nine forty-five this morning: Mr. Bishop has adequate housing, more than suitable, safe, and comfortable for his daughter during his visitation.”

“Where?” Jeffries demanded. “What sort of housing?”

“A two-bedroom, two-bathroom house at 225 California Avenue in Santa Monica. Callie has her own room in a safe neighborhood, and a fenced yard to play in.”

Georgia hissed a string of words at Jeffries, clutching his arm.

“Your Honor, this is the first we’ve heard of this arrangement,” he said. “Surely, the rent at such a locale is beyond Mr. Bishop’s capability…”

“Quite the contrary,” Alex said. “The rent at this location is quite affordable, a real steal, actually, at one U.S. dollar per month.” She glanced down at me with that same smile. “Utilities inclusive.”

I stared. Oh Christ, what has she done? But there was nothing to do but sit back and watch the show that was Alex Gardener tearing apart Georgia’s plans to take Callie from me.

“The residence is subject to inspection by an appointed representative from Child Services,” Judge Walker told Alex. “I’m not going to take your word for it, Ms. Gardener, in case you were harboring the delusion.”

“Of course not, Your Honor,” Alex replied, unruffled. “And as for my client’s employment, he has completed the necessary hours and apprenticeship to acquire his general contractor’s license, and while I’m sure Sitka is a lovely town in its own right, the opportunities for Mr. Bishop in his chosen field of expertise are far broader in Los Angeles County. In any event, child support payments to Ms. Owens will not cease.”

“Is that so?” Jeffries whined. “Residence aside, how does Mr. Bishop plan to continue child support and pay down $237,000 in hospital bills?”

Alex frowned, as if confused. “Hospital bills?”

Jeffries eased a smile, and my heart sank.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Gardener,” he said in a voice that oozed condescension. “Given that you are so new to the case, I regret to inform you that Mr. Bishop has medical expenses nearing a quarter of a million dollars…”