to Monaco, she explained, taking out French citizenship for good measure. He’d sold his remaining property in the States and put his entire fortune in various complicated trusts held in banks scattered around the globe. Financially speaking, as far as the U.S. authorities were concerned, Pierce had dropped off the edge of a cliff. What’s more, he’d told Heather the last time they communicated that the moon would explode in the sky before he’d send her or the kids another dime.
Liam listened in grim silence, not enjoying the advice he felt obligated to give. “The unwelcome fact is that your former husband has put himself out of reach of our American civil courts, Mrs. Ladrow. We can get a court order to attach his assets anywhere in the States, but from what you’ve told me, it seems clear there are no assets in this country for us to go after.”
“What about all the money Pierce has in Europe? And in the Cayman Islands? And the Bahamas? And Hong Kong, too!” Heather Ladrow’s cheeks were scarlet with frustration. “My pig of an ex has twenty-five million dollars and I’m struggling to afford new running shoes for my son! Meanwhile, my daughter had to give up ballet lessons because we can’t afford them.”
“I understand how unfair it must seem, but I don’t see any effective legal recourse open to you—”
“But Pierce owes me that money!”
“Yes, he does. Right is absolutely on your side. The law is, too. The difficulty is that nobody is in a position to enforce the court rulings.”
“Then what am I supposed to do? Let Pierce win? Dammit, I won’t let that bastard win!”
Liam suppressed a sigh. The Ladrows were so angry with each other that their divorce was a bloody battle ground, not a mechanism for dealing sensibly with a failed marriage. “Fortunately, you own the house in Cherry Creek. There’s no mortgage on the property and it’s worth at least two million dollars.” Liam had insisted, despite fierce opposition from Pierce Ladrow’s lawyer, that Heather was entitled to the house, free and clear of a mortgage. Now he was doubly grateful that he hadn’t accepted the attorney’s offer of a divorce settlement that granted Heather extremely generous annual payments but left all the capital assets in Pierce’s hands. In retrospect, it was obvious why Pierce had been so willing to pay his wife far more alimony than any court would impose. The guy had clearly planned all along to renege and then decamp abroad.
“It’s outside my area of professional expertise to offer financial advice, Mrs. Ladrow. But in your situation, I would sell the house and buy something smaller and cheaper. Then I’d invest the balance in a mutual fund. That would generate more than enough income to cover dance class for your daughter and running shoes for your son.”
“I thought there was a law against deadbeat dads in this state,” Heather said bitterly.
“There is, and I’ll certainly do the paperwork to get a warrant issued for Mr. Ladrow’s arrest—”
“You can do that?” She brightened.
“Absolutely. If Mr. Ladrow comes back to Colorado, he’ll face a choice between paying up and going to jail. But how do we enforce the warrant if your ex-husband remains out of the country?”
“Can’t we get the police in Monaco to arrest him?”
“We can try, but there’s almost no chance we’ll succeed. The authorities in Monaco aren’t going to arrest your husband on charges stemming from a contested divorce settlement, especially since he’s now a French citizen.”
“But nonpayment of child support is a criminal offense, not just a civil matter like divorce.”
“True, but it’s not a criminal offense that foreign countries are willing to extradite for. Bottom line, as long as your ex-husband and his money stay out of the country, he’s found an effective way to thumb his nose at the American legal system.”
“I hate him.” Heather spoke with quiet venom. “I really hate him.”
Liam let that comment slide. “Is there no chance that your ex-husband is going to decide he misses his children? After a few months, he may decide it’s worth paying the money he owes in return for the chance to visit with his children.”
“That’s not going to happen,” she said bleakly. “My children are adopted. They’re wonderful young people, and the light of my life, but in fairness to Pierce—and God knows, it kills me to be fair to him—I have to admit that he always told me he’d never be able to love children who weren’t his own flesh and blood.” She gave a bitter smile. “That seems to have been the one thing he didn’t lie about.”
“I’m very sorry. The situation must be very hard for you and for your children.”
She smiled sadly. “I should have listened, shouldn’t I? It’s amazing how easy it is when you’re inside a marriage to ignore what your partner is telling you. The reality is I should have seen this coming, but I refused to accept that Pierce meant exactly what he said. He didn’t want to adopt children. I insisted, he went along to the extent of signing the papers, and—here we are.”
We get too soon old and too late smart. That had been one of his grandmother’s favorite sayings and Liam’s work provided almost daily reminders of its truth. Married couples, it seemed to him, took an especially long time to get smart about each other. His work had convinced him—if he’d needed further convincing—that marriage was a damn good way to expose yourself to the agony of hell without the extra inconvenience of dying first. He had no idea why so many otherwise sensible men and women chose to submit themselves to the torment. He realized, of course, that not every marriage degenerated into the sort of vicious endgame that Pierce Ladrow had inflicted on his wife and kids but, from Liam’s perspective, far too many of them came disconcertingly close.
Jenny, the young woman who kept watch over the reception area, came in as soon as Heather Ladrow left. “Chloe Hamilton is waiting to see you.” Jenny had clearly watched the morning news. She spoke in hushed tones, dazzled by Chloe’s celebrity and the aura of criminal scandal surrounding her. “She realizes she doesn’t have an appointment but she says she really needs to see you as soon as you can spare a moment.”
“Tell her I have no openings in my schedule this morning.” Liam was in no mood to pander to Chloe Hamilton’s strange fixation for hiring him as her defense attorney.
“You have almost half an hour before your next client is due to arrive,” Jenny pointed out.
“If you watched the news this morning, you know Mrs. Hamilton needs a criminal lawyer,” Liam said curtly.
“You were a criminal lawyer until a couple of years ago.”
Liam glanced up, startled by Jenny’s comment. She’d been with him eighteen months and had never before indicated that she knew anything at all about his professional history.
“You’re correct,” he said coolly. “I used to be a criminal lawyer. Mrs. Hamilton is almost three years too late to hire me.”
“Okay, you’re the boss. I guess I’ll tell her you’re not avail—oops.” Jenny stood aside as Chloe walked into Liam’s office.
“Mr. Raven, I’m sorry to force my way in, but I’m desperate.”
Chloe gave every appearance of speaking the truth. She looked nothing like the self-possessed, elegant woman who’d visited Liam’s
