"Mrs. Layton?" the voice on my cell phone from an unknown number asks.
"Yes, this is she." I answered.
"This is Officer Fox, of the Montgomery County Police Department." the caller stated.
I knew it was about Frank, I'm thinking they found him wandering somewhere dangerous, or maybe they were calling to follow up on him being lost the other night. Frank's only been home from the hospital for a week after being diagnosed with Frontotemporal Dementia and our lives are more turned upside down than before he went in. If we aren't with him, we're talking about him. If we're not talking about him, we're worrying about him. I took the day off from work and actually felt guilty for not spending it at Frank's house watching old World War II movies, his favorite thing. He's got a video tape of every movie about WWII ever made, I think. We just watched his newest purchase, "Swing Kids". It was a good movie, about German kids dancing to American swing big band music in private clubs during WWII, but the Nazis banned it so they had to be discreet and then, of course, they got caught. My kids are still making fun of their mantra "Swing Heil!"
"Is everything okay?" I ask the officer.
"Well, I just thought you would want to know that I had to pick up your brother this morning on a warrant from Delaware County. He's fine but I thought you would be worried about him." the officer stated kindly. He had my phone number from when I reported Frank lost two nights ago.
"A warrant? He's been in the hospital for three weeks and he's only been home a few days, and he's got dementia. What could he have done?" I ask.
"It was for a PFA violation." the officer informed me.
"Oh my gosh. I can't believe it. He's been in a nasty divorce for six years now." I told him.
"I figured it was something like that, but they called and asked if I would pick him up, and then they came and got him here. It's a courtesy thing." the officer explained.
"Well, I just thought you would want to know." Officer Fox sounded apologetic.
I thanked him and hung up. I had only just gotten to the mall. I needed to do some retail therapy. I was feeling a little stressed out over all the extra work and worry we've had lately and thought I would take some 'me' time. So much for that. Now I just feel guilty that I wasn't there when they came and got him, or if I had taken him out with me they couldn't have picked him up, or if the hospital had just kept him, or if that stupid nursing home would have accepted him . . . I called Matt and told him. He was furious. This was definitely planned out. When they picked up Frank for PFA violations before they always called first to say there was a warrant and let him come in. This was covert, because we never got a warning and if Officer Fox hadn't called, we still wouldn't know where he was.
Mulva Fargo, Kat's attorney warned Nicholas, before he resigned the case, that they would report Frank for violating the PFA if we didn't drop the alimony petition. Matt called her bluff. We thought we would have had our hearing by now and Kat would be helping with Frank's care, since they are still legally married and she's the one holding the divorce up by not signing the papers. Guess we were wrong. Matt called Angelo to tell him what happened since he would be looking for Frank too and he couldn't believe it also. He said, "I'll call and find out where the arraignment is and post bail for him."
We thought we would have him back in a few hours and as soon as they found out how ill Frank was, they would release him immediately. No, that would actually be the human thing to do.
In November, four months ago, when we realized how bad Frank's behavior was becoming, Angelo petitioned the court for an Emergency Hearing for spousal support. His condition was becoming too much for us to support and we needed that hearing. Despite the title "Emergency" the hearing was scheduled for April, five months away. I called our Montgomery County Courthouse to ask how long it takes to schedule an emergency hearing there and they said it was a day or two; five months is inhumane. My old high school girlfriend is a court reporter at Montgomery County; when I told her about what happened, she whispered, "I've heard so many stories; everyone knows how corrupt Delaware County is, you'll never win there."
So with the hearing for support scheduled for April, Kat has had Frank arrested in March. I go with Angelo to post bail to get Frank back. We drive to a town in Delaware County, an hour away, to a Municipal Courthouse. It's a little empty building in the middle of nowhere, there's two officer there, and a couple bailiffs when we arrive. One is the arresting officer, his badge says "McCreedy". He's probably wondering how we found out about the hearing, but he says to Angelo, "you the lawyer?"
Angelo answers that he is and McCreedy goes, "Yeah, I know Frank."
I'm wondering why he's telling us this, so I ask,"Oh really, how do you know him?"
"I'm his wife's neighbor." he tells me. "yeah, I know all about this guy."
"oh crap!" I'm thinking. Kat's always been a story teller, who knows what she's been feeding this lardhead, and she just got him to do her bidding, and all so she doesn't have to pay spousal support. I figure I better cut this conversation short because he looks like one of those unstable kind of cops that would falsify records or something evil. He looks and has mannerisms exactly like Hank, the DEA agent, on Breaking Bad and I don't like the looks of him.
"You know the judge had to come in on his day off for this." the Hank look-alike continues.
I guess we're supposed to feel bad for him. I look inside the courtroom and don't see a judge. I find out it's because he doesn't look like a judge. He's got a plaid flannel shirt on and jeans and looks like he just came in off his tractor. I find out later that Municipal Judges, or Magistrates, aren't even lawyers. They're just some guy that runs for political office and gets to decide people's fates without having to endure the trials and tribulations of law school and learning all those pesky laws. It showed too. If I could remember his name, I would like to write him a letter and tell him what his decision has done.
Court begins with a gavel bang and Frank is brought out of a holding cell in handcuffs and leg shackles. I hear them shouting at him because he doesn't comprehend their directions about where to go and how to walk with his ankles chained together. He finally gets it together and he walks past me. I'm trying to make eye contact, but he doesn't look at me until I say "Hi Frank". He says hi back to me and continues his perp walk to the front of the "courtroom". The judge accuses him of violating the PFA and Angelo tells the judge that we would like to post bail.
The judge says "Bail denied!"
Angelo says, "Your honor, the defendant has just been released from the hospital after a three week stay. He's severely incapacitated and was diagnosed with dementia by the psychiatrist there."
"Counselor, I said bail is denied." the municipal judge stated firmly.
"Your honor, may I say again that the defendant is in a very fragile state right now and . . ."Angelo tried to argue to no avail.
"Well, jail will be the best place for him then." the judge had his mind made up before we even got there; Kat had already gotten to him through her friend McCreedy.
Then the cops, the judge and the bailiffs began bantering and laughing out loud while they filled out the paperwork to take Frank to jail and Frank stood before them in shackles.
I suddenly felt cold, I had to get out of there before I threw up.
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