Silent Killer Page 0,53
emotional breakdown. I checked myself into Haven Home in Birmingham and underwent extensive psychiatric care. I was released as an outpatient six months ago and then given a clean bill of health last month. I have a fifteen-year-old son who has been living with my in-laws for the past year. They have legal custody of him.” She leaned forward, her hands entwined in a prayerlike gesture. “I want custody of my son.”
“I take it that his grandparents are opposed to your having custody.”
“Yes.”
“What does your son want?”
“Seth is torn between wanting to please his grandfather and not wanting to hurt me.”
“Is there any reason why your in-laws are not proper guardians for your son?”
“No. J.B. and Mona are good Christian people. They’re well liked and well respected by the community. J.B. is an elder in the church.”
“I take it that you’ve tried talking to your in-laws about this and making some type of arrangement that—”
“My father-in-law has made it perfectly clear that he believes I’m emotionally unfit and he has no intention of allowing Seth to live with me now or ever.”
“Will your psychiatrist testify to your emotional stability?”
“Yes.”
“Can you financially support your son?”
“Yes.”
“Is there anything in your personal life that would make you an unfit mother?”
“Other than the entire town knowing I’ve been at Haven Home?”
Elliott nodded.
“I can’t think of anything else.”
“You’re a widow. Is that correct? Your husband was a local minister, the one murdered by the person the press is now referring to as the Fire and Brimstone Killer.”
Cathy inhaled and exhaled, then replied, “Yes, that’s correct.”
“Seth is your only child?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think he’d talk to me? I’d like to get a sense of what he wants and how he feels about his grandparents retaining custody.”
“And how he feels about me?”
“Yes, that, too.”
“Does this mean you’ll take my case?”
“If it comes to that, yes, I’ll represent you, Mrs. Cantrell.”
Cathy rose to her feet. “Thank you. I’ll speak to Seth, and if he agrees to talk to you, I’ll call your secretary and make an appointment.”
Elliott stood, rounded his desk and escorted Cathy out of his office. When they reached the outer door that led to the sidewalk, he patted her shoulder.
“We’ll do everything we can to settle this matter without going to court.”
She forced a smile.
When he turned around and went back inside, she stood there and looked at the renovated antebellum cottage that had been converted into Elliott Floyd’s office. In the past dozen years or so, many of Dunmore’s older downtown homes had undergone facelifts, some as simple as fresh coats of paint and new roofs, others far more extensive.
Cathy checked her watch. She had a lunchtime appointment with Jack and his contractor, Clay Yarbrough, whom she’d never met.
Lorie had offered to take over as the consultant on this job, cautioning her about what it might cost her to renew her friendship with Jackson Perdue. But she had spent a lifetime playing it safe, doing what was expected of her, fulfilling other people’s wishes. Never again.
“You can’t turn back the clock,” Lorie had told her. “Even if you and Jack reconnect, it won’t be the same.”
No, it wouldn’t be the same. She didn’t expect it to be. Actually, she didn’t expect anything in particular. But whether she worked with Jack professionally or dated him or became his lover again, the decisions were hers to make.
Seth had jumped at the chance to do Brother Hovater’s yard work. He had three very good reasons: it pleased Granddad that their minister had asked Seth; it gave him a chance to earn some money this summer to save toward buying himself a car; and, last but most important, it gave him the opportunity to be near Missy.
Being here at his old home, cutting the grass and trimming the hedges that he had once helped his dad cut, seemed odd. He halfway expected his mom to come out the back door and bring him a bottle of Gatorade. But this was no longer his home. He and his mom and dad didn’t live here anymore. Sometimes his old life seemed like little more than a dream, as if it had been some other guy’s life.
“Hey, you,” Felicity called loudly as she came up behind him. “Why don’t you take a break? Missy and I are fixing to eat lunch, and we made enough sandwiches for all of us.”
Seth turned off the Weed Eater, propped it against the fence and yanked a rag from the back pocket of his old, tattered