Chapter 19: Out on Bail

Travis came through the clinic door at ten past nine on Friday morning, in a clean shirt, with a smile on his face.

I was at the front desk with a clipboard.

The waiting room held a basset hound and a woman with a carrier full of kittens.

Two retirees sat with a parrot, and a teenager held a rabbit in his lap.

Every one of them stopped talking.

"Morning, babe," said Travis.

"You're not allowed within five hundred feet of me," I said.

"Is that what the paper says?"

"It's what the judge said on Wednesday, and I have it right here."

I took the order out of the drawer.

The deputy had hand-delivered it to the clinic the afternoon before, with a sticky note on the front that said, Keep this handy.

I laid it on the counter where he could see it.

"I'm just here to talk," Travis said.

He leaned on the counter, and the smile stayed where it was.

"Your husband's got a lot of nerve. Thinks he can ruin a man over a few hundred dollars."

"Thirty-eight thousand," I said.

"Allegedly."

"The woman in the corner with the carrier heard that word on the news," I said. "She'd like to know what it means."

Two heads turned.

The woman with the kittens raised one eyebrow.

Travis lowered his voice.

"Here's what's going to happen," he said. "You're going to tell the deputy you made a mistake."

"No."

"You were upset. You'll say Bree made up the list."

"No."

"I've got the certificate, Willa. Or a copy. I scanned it in August."

He tapped the counter with one finger.

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