But my military transport flight was rescheduled by the Department of Defense at the very last minute. I arrived home on Monday. A full twenty four hours earlier than my husband anticipated. I turned slowly and pointed my finger directly at Derek.
He did not panic because I caught him cheating I explained to the judge and the gallery. He panicked because I walked through the front door before he had the chance to loosen the gas valve. My early arrival completely ruined his meticulously planned destruction. He needed me out of that house immediately before I noticed the tampered utility lines or uncovered his financial ruin.
I looked at the forged DNA document still sitting on the judge’s bench. That is why he printed a fake DNA test at a strip mall printing shop I continued relentlessly. That is why he staged that pathetic theatrical ambush in my living room. It was not a divorce strategy.
It was an improvised desperate audible. He needed an excuse to forcibly remove me in the middle of the night hoping he could lure me back later or find another way to collect that five million dollar military life insurance policy. Derek sat frozen at the defense table. He was not looking at me.
He was not looking at the judge. He was staring blankly at the wood grain of the table his breathing shallow and rapid. He looked like a man who had just watched the gates of hell swing wide open to welcome him. This was never a custody hearing I concluded my eyes locking with Judge Mitchell.
This was a premeditated premeditated fatal plot against a federal officer. The judge slowly turned her gaze from me to Derek. The realization of the true scale of the crime settled over the courtroom like a heavy iron shroud. Derek had not just lied about paternity.
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