Chapter 8

Alistair Campbell rushed into Sheriff Thomas’ office, placed a paper on his desk, and ordered, “Sheriff, I want you to enforce a restraining order ASAP.”

The man in the black Armani suit screamed ‘lawyer’.

The old sheriff put on his glasses and took a brief look at the paper in front of him while he sipped his coffee. He scribbled some notes on a piece of paper and ignored the man in front of him.

“Did you hear what I said?” Alistair Campbell asked, with more emphasis than necessary.

Sheriff Thomas took another look at the order in front of him and said, “First, good afternoon. This might be a small town, but we keep our good manners.”

“This is a serious, time-sensitive matter and I demand−” Alistair Campbell raised his voice, but Bert Thomas ignored him and kept talking.

“Second, I might be a small-town sheriff, but I can read. At least, when I have my glasses on. This order expired nine years ago.”

Alistair Campbell was prepared for that.

“I’ll get a new restraining order as soon as I can see a judge. I have the paperwork ready in my briefcase. In the meantime, the child’s welfare comes first. I want my grandson, Benjamin Campbell, in my custody and Janice Cooper in jail.”

Bert Thomas took off his glasses to put them in his shirt pocket, crossed his arms, and looked at Alistair Campbell without saying a word.

“Well? Why are you still sitting there?” the lawyer asked. “Do something!”