Chapter 25 – Kendall
Much like Kendall had planned, Anne Phillips’ law office was located inside her modest two-story home on a tree-lined street, right off the main highway.
The designated area was bigger than what Kendall would’ve had if she’d followed through with the purchase of the home she’d toured a few weeks ago.
There would’ve been a separate entrance, like Anne, but not an office for herself and a reception area complete with a paralegal/assistant.
“Ms. Miller?”
While Kendall waited for Anne to get finished with a conference call and her assistant worked on a file, Kendall thought about the letters she’d found, proclaiming Meggie, Roxy, and CJ as the club’s owners.
“Ms. Miller?”
Bash wouldn’t be the only one gunning for Meggie, but the question was where were the fucking deeds? What was she missing?
A gentle shake of the shoulder made Kendall lift her head. “I’m sorry, Ms. Miller. I’ve been calling you, but you didn’t seem to hear.”
She’d heard, but she was so used to referring to herself as Kendall Donovan, ‘Ms. Miller’ hadn’t registered. Still having no answers to that fucking deed puzzle, Kendall grabbed her purse and got to her feet. She smiled at Chastity. “My mind was on work.”
Chastity nodded. She was a pretty blonde woman, about Mattie’s height. “I totally get that. Even when I’m home, I’m thinking about depositions and rulings and legal proceedings.”
She indicated the opened door with a wave of her manicured hand. “Follow me.”
Anne Phillips knew of the Death Dwellers. She knew Kendall was married to one of the club’s officers and probed for information, which Kendall shut down. Any criminal investigation would bring heat to the club, so instead of mentioning their sex life and his coercion, she discussed mental abuse.
“You need to file for a legal separation as soon as possible, Ms. Miller.” She nodded to Chastity who wrote on her legal pad. “That is my first recommendation.”
Kendall feared disturbing the hornet’s nest. She came to explore her future options. Not take immediate ones. “I can’t. Not yet.”
“Why in heaven’s name not?” Anne boomed.
“If I lose my children, I’ll see no reason to go on.”
Anne lifted her brows. “Tell me you didn’t say that to your husband?”
“I didn’t have to,” Kendall admitted. “He knows me quite well.”
“How old are they?”
“Rory turned fifteen in March. Mattie will be fourteen in December. JJ will be twelve in August and Blade will be four in September.” The same month as her birthday. “I planned to stay until Rory turns eighteen.”
“Is that still your plan?”
“My relationship with Rory is so damaged, he’d turn his back on me right now and not appreciate my sacrifices.
Yet, deep down, my son needs me. Even if he doesn’t, Mattie most certainly does.
” Her goal was still to endure for at least another two and a half years, until Mattie’s 16th birthday. Blade would only be six by then.
“Are you determined to stick to that plan?”
“Yes,” Kendall whispered, knowing she needed to retain some control. Maybe she’d gotten through to Johnnie. He’d kept his back to her last night and hadn’t initiated morning ‘sex’.
“Tell me about yourself. What your husband can use against you in court if you decide to leave tomorrow.”
Heaving a deep breath, Kendall shared her life’s story.
There wasn’t much to her beginning. When her father was killed and her mother ended up in a mental institution, Kendall’s life took a turn.
Life at the club, however, and all her experiences both good and bad defined her and turned her into the woman she was today.
“Would you be willing to allow me to hire a mental health team?” Anne asked at the conclusion of Kendall’s story.
“A psychiatrist, a psychologist, and a therapist. Either here in Boise or twenty miles down the road in Nampa. I’ll see that they create a plan for you.
If you follow it, they’ll testify on your behalf in a child custody case. ”
The words gave Kendall a ray of hope. If she took care of her mental health, and pretended to go along with Johnnie, she might prevail.
“I’ll need to set up a local bank account,” she said. “I don’t want my husband getting wind of my plans.” She glanced away from Anne’s probing eyes. “He might convince me to change my mind.”
“We can do that now, if you have time.”
Kendall glanced at her watch. Rebel was coming home today and she would’ve liked to have been there to welcome her.
She also wanted to make a call to a real estate attorney about Big Joe and K-P’s letters.
But if she didn’t feel as if she proactively made plans to leave Johnnie, he’d drive her insane.
“Ms. Miller?”
“Sorry. I have a very difficult case on my mind.”
“Involving what, if I may ask. I might be able to help you. Don’t need specifics, of course. Attorney-client privilege, you know?”
Kendall nodded. “Property. I have old letters that name certain owners, but I cannot find a deed.”
“Have you tried different counties?”
“That was the first thing I did.”
Anne thought for a moment. “It could be a case of errors in the records.”
“Errors?” Kendall echoed. “Such as typographical mistakes in the legal description?”
“Yes. Or incorrect spelling of names. Or misindexed documents by the county recorder.”
Any of those could disrupt the legal chain of title and make the true owner quite hard to identify.
“It also might be unrecorded transfers,” Kendall said woefully, which she suspected was the case. “That makes my job much harder.”
“Those problems will still be around when you return to your office. Let’s get your bank account opened and start you on the road to your divorce.”
In eighteen months, Kendall would resume her house search or buy land and have one built to her specifications.
She’d funnel money into a secret bank account.
She wished she had her own people in place, a trusted financial advisor, physician, and attorney to shadow the movements of people she’d just met but had to trust out of desperation.