CHAPTER THREE

Troy drove around the block, parked his black BMW, and waited. He watched the police use a battering ram to force the front door to open at Anna's house. Soon an ambulance arrived. His knuckles turned white as he clutched the steering wheel. He closed his eyes and prayed. Please God, let Anna and her son be all right.

When the EMS workers brought Anna from the house on a stretcher, Troy opened the car door and stepped on to the street. No! I should've done more. A female officer carried Michael and walked beside the stretcher. Troy released a deep breath when he saw Anna's hand touch her baby. At least she's alive.


After the ambulance left, he watched an officer escort a handcuffed Bobby from the house. He formed fists as he overheard Bobby shout, "That bitch deserved everything she got," as they forced him into the backseat of a patrol car.

Troy opened his door and sat behind the steering wheel. I hope you get what you deserve in prison. Maybe you can be somebody's punching bag.

*****
At home, Troy fixed himself a cup of coffee and sat on the back porch staring at a squirrel run up and down a tree. After releasing a deep breath, he scrolled down the numbers on his cell phone, found the one he wanted, and pressed dial. When he heard a voice he said, "Dad, a friend of mine will probably need some legal advice. May I drop by the house in about an hour?"

"Of course, you know you don't need to ask. I'll be waiting."

*****
Troy parked the car in the circlar driveway and glanced at the huge house. When they let me move in with them, we didn't live in a house like this. It's amazing what twenty plus years of being a successful lawyer will do.

He opened the front door and called, "Mom?"

Betty Sorenson rushed into the hall and hugged him. "It's been too long." The grey haired, slightly plump, yet still attractive woman glanced out the door. "I'm glad you aren't riding that motorcycle. Those things are dangerous."

"Mom, I'm careful." He laughed and closed the door. "What do you mean it's been too long? Only two weeks ago we ate Sunday dinner together."

His dad came in from the den and smiled. "Your mom wants you here every night for dinner." He slapped his son on the back. "You sounded serious on the phone."

"It is, Dad. My friend is in need of some legal advice. Are you available?"

"Did you forget? I'm retired. I haven't been in front of a jury for two years. I can recommend a good lawyer. Is he in trouble with the law? Does he need a good criminal lawyer?"

"It's a female. She's in need of a good divorce lawyer."

Betty glanced toward the kitchen. "I better make some ice tea and bring in some cookies. This sounds serious." Before she left she kissed Troy's cheek. "Just like old times, you always did have women problems."

"Let's go in the den." Paul pointed and Troy led the way.

Troy sat in a black leather chair and surveyed the room. He stared at a photo of his parents, and himself on a camping trip. "I always liked that picture."

Paul removed it from the wall and handed it to his son. "So do I. It was our first camping trip after you came to live with us." He sat in a chair beside Troy. "Tell me what's bothering you."

Troy explained how he had met Anna and everything that had led up to the 911 call.

"Are you involved with this young mother?" Paul stared into his eyes.

"No, I've told you everything."

"But you do have feelings for her, am I right?"

"I don't know her well enough to have feelings. If you're asking, do I like her? Yes, I do. She's a very likable young woman. Am I worried about her well-being? Yes, I'm very worried about her safety. I know firsthand the end result of spousal abuse."

"Are you positive she won't go back to her husband?"

Troy hung his head. "Dad, you didn't see how badly he beat her. There's no way she would go back."

"Many young women feel they're better off with an abusive husband than by themselves. It's called Stockholm syndrome."

"She's already considering divorce. I'm sure today only confirmed her opinion. What should she do now?"

"She, not you, needs to seek legal advice. You need to stay away to make sure you don't complicate the situation." Paul took a piece of paper and pen from his solid-oak desk drawer. He wrote names and numbers down. "Here are the names of the two best divorce lawyers in town. They're both good friends. We play golf every Wednesday afternoon. Let me know which one she chooses and I'll pave the way."

"I remember. I used to caddie for you and them, and all of you used to try to convince me to become a lawyer." He chuckled. "I told you I wanted an honest job. You always shot back, 'become a judge then'."

Paul stroked a worn baseball on in a display on his desk. "We had some good times while you were growing up."

Troy lifted the ball and studied it. "My first little league home run. It was a long time ago, but seems like yesterday."

"You hit it so far, you broke a car's windshield."

He laughed. "Those were the good old days. Life was simple back then."

"Sure was, Son."

After he drank a cold glass of tea and ate a few cookies, Troy stood. "I think I'll stop by the hospital and give Anna these names." He waved the paper.

"It's important you remember to let her decide what's best for her and her son. Don't get involved or her husband can sue you."