Chapter 18 - The Ambush at Greenfield Manor
The blue and red strobes of six police cruisers washed over the white columns of Greenfield Manor.
Eleanor Vance was standing beside a black luxury sedan at the edge of the circular driveway.
Next to her stood Arthur Pendelton, the most ruthless, expensive appellate litigator on the eastern seaboard.
He held a thick binder of court orders, his expression smug and dismissive of the local deputies.
"Sheriff Bradley, you are in direct violation of a federal protective order," Pendelton announced in a ringing voice.
"Mrs. Eleanor Vance is the legally designated guardian of Christian Vance under Vermont state ward status."
"Claire Sullivan has unlawfully breached private property and committed grand child abduction."
I stepped past James, holding the baby tight against my collarbone, feeling his tiny heart racing against mine.
"This child is my husband's biological flesh and blood!" I shouted into the night wind.
"He was stolen from a clinic, hidden in this prison, and denied his biological sister!"
"Your biological husband signed away all legal custody twelve years ago, Mrs. Sullivan," Eleanor said smoothly.
Her face was impassive, her eyes gleaming like obsidian stones beneath the flashing police lights.
"You have no parental rights to this boy."
"The law does not care about your sentimentality or your weeping, Claire."
"Hand the boy to my private physician, or the sheriff will be forced to place you in federal handcuffs tonight."
Sheriff Bradley looked between Eleanor and me, his hand resting uncomfortably on his holster.
"Mrs. Sullivan, until the court resolves this jurisdictional discrepancy, I cannot allow you to leave with the child," Bradley said quietly.
"Sheriff, his sister is dying of a metabolic crisis at St. Jude’s right this second!" James roared, stepping in front of me.
"The stem cells Evelyn holds in that cooler are the only biological match that will save Hope’s life!"
"If you delay this transport, you are an accessory to the murder of my infant daughter!"
Pendelton stepped forward, adjusting his gold spectacles.
"That is an unverified medical claim designed to bypass lawful custody protocol," Pendelton sneered.
"The child stays on Vance property until an emergency hearing at nine o’clock tomorrow morning."
"No," a voice echoed from the shadowed tree line behind the police cruisers.
A beat-up silver minivan pulled up onto the grass, the engine sputtering as it came to a sudden halt.
The sliding door flew open.
Out stepped Judge Hastings, wearing an overcoat thrown hastily over his flannel pajamas, his legal seal in his hand.
Behind him stood Liam, his jaw set in fierce, defiant anger.
"Liam?" I gasped, my voice failing me.
May you like
"I called Judge Hastings's private home, Mom," Liam shouted across the gravel lawn.
"I told him Eleanor’s lawyers were trying to steal my brother!"
