Cutler 03 - Twilight's Child

police first," he said.
    "No, we had better check into a hotel someplace close by and call Mr. Updike. The police can't help us. Sanford Compton is right—it's going to be a legal battle."
    I looked back at the house once, trying to imagine which room Christie was in. I was sure they had bought her the finest crib and the most expensive baby clothes. Just a baby, she didn't know where she was or what had happened to her. She was probably as content as she could possibly be. In a short while I would disturb that contentment; but I had to believe that even an infant as young as Christie would sense her own mother when she was finally placed in my arms, and that would give her a deeper, more complete sense of security and love. Armed with that faith, I hurried off with Jimmy to begin our battle for custody of my own child.
     
    We checked into a small hotel just outside of Richmond. It was a restored old mansion, and the rooms were quiet, large and comfortable, but we were not able to enjoy anything. Our time here was to be filled with waiting for phone calls and preparation for a hearing.
    When I phoned Mr. Updike I was surprised at his reaction.
    "Maybe it would be wiser just to leave things be," he suggested. "The baby's in a very good home and will be very well taken care of. Sanford Compton is wealthy and powerful in his community."
    "I don't care how wealthy he is, Mr. Updike. Christie is my baby, and I want her back," I said sharply. "I thought you had explained it all to the Comptons," I continued, not disguising my annoyance. If he intended to continue as the family's attorney, he would have to satisfy me now that I was the majority owner of the hotel and property.
    "I didn't get into the nitty-gritty details with them," he confessed. "I was just trying to protect the Cutler name. You can imagine what a field day the newspaper people would have with such a story, and that might very well reflect on the hotel."
    "Mr. Updike," I said, speaking through clenched teeth, "if I don't get Christie back and get her back soon, I will feed the story to the newspapers myself!" I flared.
    "I see," he said. "I just want you to understand what will be exposed—your affair with this older man, your pregnancy out of wedlock, your—"
    "I know what I've done, and I know what has happened, Mr. Updike. My baby is more important to me than any of that. If you can't help me and help me quickly, I will see another attorney," I said, no longer veiling any threat or anger.
    He cleared his throat.
    "Oh, I'll help you. I just wanted you to understand all the aspects of this," he quickly explained.
    "What do we do next?" I demanded.
    "Well, I know some people there. I'll get right on it. Maybe we can settle this in a closed hearing in front of a judge with just the attorneys and parties present. I'll work toward that, and hopefully—"
    "Then Jimmy and I will remain here and await your making the arrangements quickly," I emphasized.
    "Okay. I'll call you. Where are you?"
    I gave him the place and the number and repeated my desire to have the problem solved as quickly as possible. He promised to get right on it.
    The day after I had first phoned Mr. Updike he finally called to say he had managed to get the Comptons and their attorney to agree to a hearing in front of a Supreme Court judge, Judge Powell, who was both a friend of the Comptons and an acquaintance of Mr. Updike.
    "If Mr. Compton is so powerful around here and this judge is his friend, will he be fair?" I asked with concern.
    "Well, this is sort of an off-the-record hearing, a favor the judge is doing for both of us," Mr. Updike explained. "We can always turn to formal legal remedies afterward if we're not satisfied with the outcome. The Comptons aren't happy about the prospect of a public hearing either."
    He gave me the address and time to be at the judge's chambers and told us he would meet us there an hour earlier. It was an afternoon meeting. I was so nervous about it, I couldn't eat a thing for lunch.
    "It's going to be okay," Jimmy continued to assure me. "Once everyone understands the truth of what happened, it will be settled simply and quickly."
    "Oh, Jimmy, I'm not as confident as you are. Mr. Updike keeps emphasizing just how powerful Sanford Compton is, a man of great influence with politicians and lawyers alike, and he's forever reminding me about the sordid details of my background."
    "I don't care about any of that," Jimmy insisted. "The truth is the truth,