“If we hold off, he might try to have you served at the house.”

“Let him believe the paperwork is going forward,” I said.

“I want to see how far he takes it.”

He studied me for three seconds without touching a single paper on his desk.

“The closing on the Willow Creek house is set for November fourteenth.

You can’t stay in that casita if he has a court order pending.”

“I won’t be there on November fourteenth,” I said.

He passed me a certified copy of the petition.