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Tommy's telling him about being kept awake all night bythe two men playing with mommy in the next room.

“Can you explain to me how thejudge could write this and yet continue to allow overnights andunsupervised visitation?” Bob asked me after he finished readingthe entire ruling.

“I can’t understand it. He agreedwith Dr. T’s analysis, yet didn’t adopt her conclusions.Unbelievable, but at least you got sole custody.”

“We’ll see if losing two cases nowmakes Audrey change her behavior,” Bob said. “But, I doubt it,because it’s pretty clear she's a sociopath. She’ll blame herlawyer for the losses, and continue to do anything shewants.”

“Probably,” I said. “But if shedoesn’t abide by the order, you can document that and maybe go backto the judge in six months or so.”

“Yeah, that’s what my lawyer says,give it six months.”

“Good luck to us all, Bob. I havea feeling we haven’t heard the last of her yet,” Ipredicted.

And it wasn’t.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

The End

The unforgiving fluorescent lights illuminating thegray walls and the sea of drawn and tired faces did little todampen my own mood. Standing in line at the West Palm Beach Countycourthouse on a Friday afternoon might not seem like an enjoyableway to spend some time to most people, but, at that moment, therewere few places I’d rather have been.

After months and months of arduous work and worry,after having to stand before a judge and plead my case, and afterfinally finding happiness in a typical day, I was about to receivea certified copy of my divorce. As I stood in line, I thought backto all that had happened since my divorce trial.

Adam Nettles’ final task as mylawyer was to draw up what they call the “Final Order ofDissolution of Marriage,” which would encompass all of JudgeAndrews’s findings. As soon as Adam drew it up, he faxed it toAudrey’s lawyer for his comments, any changes he wanted to make,and ultimate approval. He gave Walton a week to respond. After nothearing from him in that time, Adam faxed him a memo, and gave hima few more days. If no answer, Adam wrote, he was simply going tosend it in “as is” to the judge for his signature. By Monday, May19th,Walton still hadn't responded, so Adam mailed the order to thecourt.

The following Friday, I called Adam, and hissecretary told me they had received a signed copy of the FinalOrder back from Judge Andrews, and therefore, I was officiallydivorced. Within minutes, I was in my car and on my way to the WestPalm Beach courthouse to get a certified copy.

“Next,” the woman behind the glassbarked.

“Good afternoon. My name is PaulGoldman and I’m here to obtain a certified copy of my divorcecertificate,” I said, practically singing as I spoke.

“Case number?” the woman asked,her eyes still fixed on her computer. I handed over the case numberobligingly, at which point she rose from her desk at “governmentemployee speed” and went to fetch my file. She came back a fewminutes later with my file, but said the final order wasn'tinside.

“Let me take a look at it,” Isaid. “I know the judge signed it two days ago.” I flipped throughthe pages to see if she had somehow missed it. “You're right,” Isaid. “It’s not here in the file. Where do you think itis?”

“I’ll check around the office,”the clerk said, disappearing once again to the file room off to theside. Annoyed that my celebration had been delayed, I sighed andlooked around the banal, depressing office. The walls were as grayas the clerks’ dispositions and the atmosphere was at once stiflingand stale.

Then, I saw it.

A glimpse of a red rose caught my eye. Intrigued, Istepped out of line to get a better look. Sure enough, there in theback of a small, darkened room off to the side stood the floweredarchway where Audrey and I had been married less than three yearsbefore.

I had been so hopeful, so full of love, and so readyto overlook all the little signs that suggested maybe marryingAudrey wasn’t the best idea. We had said our vows, Johnny had heldthe rings, and I thought we'd started the family I’d always dreamedof. Now, less than three years later, I was back in the same officeconfirming the end at the very place it had all begun.

Interrupting my reflection, the clerk returned withthe final order.

“Thank you,” I said, relieved thatshe'd found it. I looked down at the document, took a deep breath,and walked away.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

The First Arrest

May 27, 2010

I saw from the Caller ID that it was Bob Thompson.“Did you hear the news?” he asked.

“No, what news?” I replied.

“Audrey was arrested about a half hour ago.”

I almost dropped the phone. “No!” I said in joyousdisbelief. “What did they get her on? Prostitution? Fraud?

“Neither,” Bob answered. “Joe Munson got a call fromthe police telling him he needed to pick up his kids from school.When Joe asked why, the police officer told him Audrey was underarrest and would be spending the night in jail. I just got off thephone with him and the belief is she was arrested for assaultingyou at the grocery store last March. I recall you mentioned theincident to me, but I don't remember what happened.”

“Yeah. Johnny and I were inthe Shop ‘N Go,and, when we turned into aisle fifteen, Audrey was standing rightin front of us. Before I could say a word, she took two stepstoward me, and hit me in the chest with her purse. A box boywitnessed the entire episode. I turned and walked away, drove tothe Jupiter police station which was up the street, and made areport. Well, I wish she'd been arrested for prostitution, buthell, something's better than nothing.”

“Paul, if you go to the police website, and do asearch under her name, you can see her booking report and mugshot.”

“Really? I will. And I'll bet you that mug shot willbe the first of many.”

“I hope so, Paul. I hope so,” said Bob, and hung upthe phone.

I immediately phoned Sue Anne Norton of the FDLE. I told herwhat happened, then asked if she would update me on Audrey'sWelfare fraud case. “Our case is almost complete,” Sue Anne

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