"My pleasure, ma'am."
"Really? Ma'am?"
"Sorry. It's an old habit."
Sabre accidentally brushed against JP as she walked around to the back of her desk. A tingle shot through her body. Elaine was right, she thought; he is hot. JP took the seat across from her.
"Do you really think this kid is innocent?" JP asked.
"I do. I just can't believe that he would do anything like this."
"So, how do you explain the evidence?"
"What do we have really? It's all circumstantial."
"They have a witness. Not just any witness, but a nun who saw Tray with Irving just before he was killed."
"Even if Tray was with him, which he says he wasn’t, it doesn't mean he killed him."
"Look what this guy did to him. I'd probably kill him too. And I sure as hell would if he molested someone I loved."
"I'm thinking that too,” Sabre said. “A parent, or someone very close to the victim, is more apt to have done this than the victim himself."
"So maybe Irving did something to Tray’s sister. That would rile Tray up. He’s mighty protective of her.”
“That’s true, but there’s absolutely no evidence of anything happening to her.”
“Perhaps Tray's mother or father?"
"Yes, but why would his mother all of a sudden decide to kill Irving? She has known about this for months. What would have provoked her?"
"The right drugs, maybe?"
"That's possible, but she seems to get pretty out of it when she uses, and then she hits the streets to make some money to get more drugs."
"Did the father know?" JP asked.
"We don't know. The social worker hasn't been able to locate him."
"Maybe he just found out and went after the guy."
"That's possible, so I guess you better find him. At the very least, we need to have someone to point the finger at."
"What about the other evidence against Tray? Like the word GOOF in black marker across his forehead."
"Who even uses that term for a pedophile?" Sabre asked.
"It's used a lot in some prisons."
"Exactly. So how does Tray know it?"
"C'mon, Sabre, you're stretching here. Street kids know those terms because so many of them have parents who are convicts. The slang in the prisons is also on the streets."
"But that's just it. Tray isn't really a street kid. He's had a rough life with his mother's addiction, but at the same time, he has been way more sheltered than most of the kids in his situation."
"Well, his best friend, Drew Fletcher, used the word goof when I talked to him. Perhaps Tray learned it from him. Maybe the term has become common among teenagers. You never know what slang they're using. There are slang changes all the time. It's hard to keep up."
"Or maybe Drew had more to do with this than we've figured so far."
"I considered that, but from what I can tell, he never even met the guy," JP said.
"But Drew was with Tray around the same time that the nun said she saw Tray with Irving."
"But Tray was seeing his therapist then, so he couldn't have been in Albertsons. The nun has to be wrong unless Tray wasn't at his appointment after all. I have an appointment to meet with Sister Maria Luisa Hilasco next week. I figure finding Tray's mother is top priority, unless you feel differently."
"You're right. The nun isn't likely to go anywhere," Sabre said.
"By the way, I checked on the second body. They don't know who he is yet, but they don't think he's linked to Irving. It was a totally different M.O. Apparently, he was shot several months ago, maybe as many as six. They're still working on the time of death."
“So, that likely won’t be of any help to us.” Sabre paused. "When will Dr. Bell be back from his trip to Africa?"
"According to his office, he's due back in about a week."
"That should clear up a few things."
“Maybe, but I’m not sure you’re going to like what you hear.”
“Why is that?”
“Dr. Bell’s office assistant said the doctor left on Friday for Africa, so he couldn’t have met with Tray on Saturday.”
“And she was certain?”
“She made the reservation and she took him to the airport. I checked with my friend at Homeland Security. Dr. Bell’s flight was scheduled for Friday, May 3, and he was on the flight. There’s no way he could have kept that appointment.”
Chapter 11
Sabre sat down in front of Tray in the interview room. The room was so small it felt like a cage to Sabre, and she felt a bit claustrophobic. Tray didn't fidget as much or look as scared as he had in court. Perhaps he was getting used to his surroundings.
"I'm so sorry you're stuck here, Tray, but we’re doing everything we can to help you. In order to give you the best defense, I need you to be completely honest with me. Can you do that?"
He nodded.
"When did you last see your mother?" Sabre asked.
"Last week."
"Do you remember what day it was?"
Tray wrinkled his brow. "I think it was Friday. Yeah, it was Friday because we got out of school early that day."
"About what time was it?"
"A driver from CPS picked me and Shanisha up right after I got home from school."
"And you went straight to Harbinger?"
"Yes."
"Did you stay there with your mother?"
"No. We went to McDonald's and got some hamburgers and fries, and then we went to the park."
"Was anyone else with you or your mom?"
"Just Shanisha."
"How did you get to McDonald's?"
"We took the bus."
Tray's answers were almost robotic. She wondered how much he had thought about all this. She expected it was constantly on his mind.
"And your mom paid for the bus?"
"She had bus passes. I think the social worker gave them to her."
"Did you take the bus to the park too?"
"No, we walked. It wasn't that far."
"What did you do at the park?"
"What does this have to do with anything?"
Sabre was a little surprised by his question. He didn't sound angry or sarcastic, but the question surprised her. She wondered if something happened at the park that he didn't want to talk about. "I'm trying to establish where you were when Irving was killed, so I need all the details."
"Is that when it happened? When I was with my mom?"
"We don't know exactly. So, what did you do at the park?"
"We sat on the park bench and ate."
"I thought you went to McDonald's."
"We did, but we took our food to go."
"Was anyone else with you?"
He hesitated. "Just my sister. I already told you." His voice rose as he spoke.
"What did you do after you ate?"
"We played on the bars and I pushed Shanisha on the swings. She loves to swing."
"I loved to swing when I was little," Sabre said. "I still do. It feels like you’re flying. Did you swing too?"
"A little, but I had to keep getting off because Shanisha kept wanting me to push her."
"Did your mom talk to anyone at the park?"
"No," he said quickly.
"Did you or Shanisha talk to anyone?"
"There was another little girl that Shanisha played with on the bars. They were crawling through that clubhouse thing and sliding down the slide."
"Were there other adults there?"
"I think so."
"Did you see a nun there?" Sabre knew this was not where the nun said she saw Tray, but if she saw him at the park, she may have been confused about Irving.
"A what?"
"A nun."
He wrinkled his forehead and scrunched his mouth in a look of complete confusion. "None what?”
Sabre furrowed her brow at his response, then realized his confusion and chuckled. "Tray, do you know what a nun is?"
; He shook his head.
Sabre Googled nun on her phone and showed Tray a picture of a nun in a habit, although she wasn't sure if the nun was wearing her habit when she supposedly saw Tray. She made a note to check on what she was wearing.
"Oh yeah, I've seen pictures of those before, but I never saw a real one."
Sabre found his earlier comment funny but didn't say anything. This was a difficult conversation for Tray.
"And you never saw Irving anywhere that day?"
"No." He shuddered.
"What did you do after you went to the park?"
"We went back to the rehab center and then someone picked me and my sister up."
"Who picked you up?"
"I don't remember her name, but the social worker sent her. She's taken me places before."
"Tray, you seem to be hiding something. Did your mom meet up with someone at the park? You can tell me. I'm not going to bust her."
"She was trying so hard." His voice shook as he spoke and Sabre waited for him to finish. "When we were at the swings, she was talking to some guy."
"Did you know him?"
"I don't know his name. I've seen him before, but I'm not sure where. I saw him give her something. She was ready to go right after that. On the way home, I begged her to not start using. She said she wasn't, but I knew she was lying."
"What happened when you got back to the center?"
"She gave us a hug and went inside. We waited outside for the driver to come. That's when I knew for sure 'cuz she never leaves us alone when she's clean."
"I'm so sorry, Tray."
He shrugged his shoulders. "It's no different than before."
Only this time it was different. This young man was sitting in custody for a crime he likely didn't commit, or if he did, it's because his mother put him in harm's way. Sabre grew angrier at his parents. She took a deep breath.
"Tray, let's talk about the Saturday before your visit with your mother. Where were you?"
"I was at my friend Drew's house."
"All day?"
"His mom dropped me off at the therapist’s office and then we went to Kennedy Skateboard Park."
"What time was your appointment?"
"Eleven. It's always the same."
"Did you go to Albertsons supermarket either with your therapist or on your own?"
"No."
"And you never saw Irving that day?"
"No. I told you I've never seen him since the social worker took us away from our house.” Sabre could hear the irritation in his voice. This was unusual for Tray. “Why do you keep asking me?"
"There's a witness who says she saw you with him at Albertsons."
"That's stupid. I wouldn't be with him." He shuddered again.
"I know. That's why I need to know everything, so I can prove that you couldn't have killed him."
Tray sighed. "I don't get it. Why would she say I was with him? That doesn't make sense. Ask Dr. Bell. I was with him, and then I went to the skatepark with Drew."
Chapter 12
Leonard Cohen belted out the first line of "Hallelujah" as a ringtone on Sabre's phone.
"Hello, Bob," Sabre said when she answered.
"Hi, honey. What's up?"
"Why aren't you here at the courthouse?"
"I am. I'm driving around the parking lot trying to find a parking spot. Is there some high profile case going on here today?"
"Not that I know of, so say your parking-spot chant and get in here."
"I can't just waste the chant. What if there are only so many parking spots in the chant? I need to save them for special occasions."
"Such as?"
"Such as a spot at the grocery store when I need some vodka. Or if I need a pack of cigarettes."
"But you don't smoke anymore."
"Actually, I'm just on a smoking break. I'm going to take it up again when I'm eighty-five. I figure if I'm still alive, then I deserve to do whatever I want. Besides, that way I don't have to feel like I’ll never have another cigarette."
"That's quite a plan."
"I'm pretty sure I won't make it to the ripe old age of eighty-five, though."
"I hope you do. But by then, you'll have handicapped license plates and you'll be able to find spots easier, so you still don't need to save your chant for those parking spots."
"I found one, but I'm out by the fence, almost to Children's Hospital."
"I'll see you out there."
Sabre walked out of the courthouse to meet Bob. At first she couldn't see him because he was hidden by the multitude of cars. When she saw him appear from behind a Toyota pickup, she walked toward him until they met.
"You are in the back forty," she said.
"I told you. I used to not mind because I could leisurely enjoy a cigarette as I walked toward the courthouse, but now there's nothing to enjoy. I may have to take up smoking again before I reach eighty-five."
"Never mind. I need to talk to your client, Tray's mother. She may be his only alibi for the time when Irving was murdered."
"That's frightening."
"I take it she isn't back in rehab."
"Nope. She's on the streets. I'm not even sure if I can find her, and if she's using, she won't be of much use to Tray."
"I need to try. Can you let me know if she turns up?"
"Sure, snookums," Bob said. "Are we lunching today?"
"I can't. As soon as court is done, I’m going over to the Hall to see Tray. Maybe he has some idea where his mother might be."
***
"How are you holding up in here?" Sabre asked, as she sat down across from Tray in the tiny interview room.
Tray shivered, but he didn't respond.
"Tray, what happened?"
"It just gets uncomfortable sometimes."
"Did someone do something to you?"
"Not really."
"Tray, I need to know if someone is hurting or threatening you. Maybe I can stop it before it gets worse."
"I try to keep to myself, but they call me names."
"What names?"
"Mostly Zebra. Sometimes Skunk or Domino."
"Because you’re mixed race?"
"I guess. I don't talk or walk like them. They cuss all the time and sometimes, they're just plain mean. I don't get it."
"Who are these boys?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "I think the nicknames were started by a guy named Malcolm, but once you get tagged with a nickname everyone calls you that."
"I can report the harassment if you want me to," Sabre said.
"No. That'll just make it worse. I just want to go back to June's house. And I want to see my sister." Before Sabre could answer, Tray said, "But she can't come here. This place is awful. I'll see her when I get out, I guess. And what about my mom? She's back on the streets again, isn't she?"
"Why do you think that?"
"Because I know she would've come to see me if she wasn't. She's a good mother when she isn't using."
"We don't know where she is. We've been looking, but we haven't been able to locate her. We need to talk to her about the time you spent with her at that last visit. Do you have any idea where she might be?"
"Remember the guy in the park who was with Mom?"
"Yes. What about him?"
"I think I remember where I know him from. There's a house a few blocks from where we used to live. I followed her there once. They make drugs in that house."
"How do you know that?"
"I saw them cooking 'em. And when some dude started to light up a cigarette, two other guys freaked out. They said the house could blow up."
"Where was your mom?"
"She was passed out on the sofa by the time I went inside. I couldn't even get her awake."
"Did you hear any of the names of the people in the house?"
"No, they just kept calling the guy with the cigarette, 'dumb nigga.' That's all I heard."
"What did the men look like?"
"The guy with the
cigarette was short, skinny, and real fidgety, like he was high on something. The other two guys were taller, and one was a big, fat, ugly guy with a bald head."
"Do you remember where the house is?"
"Yes. I've been back there a couple of times. Mom always goes there when she gets real bad. One time when I was watching Shanisha, she fell and bumped her head and it started bleeding. I didn't know what to do, so I ran and got Mom."
"Did she come home?"
"Yes, but she went back the next day."
"Do you know the address of this house?"
"No, but I can tell you how to get there. If you start at my house and walk to the right until you get to the stop sign, you turn right. Go a couple more blocks until you get to the house with a bright pink garage door, and turn left. It's the fourth house on the right side of the street."
"Thanks, Tray. We'll try to find her."
"If you do, will you ask her to come see me? Maybe I can get her to go back to rehab." His eyes were filled with pain as he spoke.
Sabre was sad that this poor boy felt the need to get his mother into a drug program. She was the parent, not him. Yet, he was sitting in juvenile hall, and instead of worrying about his own situation, he was trying to help his mother. Sabre's feelings went from sadness to anger toward that woman.
When Sabre left juvenile hall, she immediately called JP and left a message for him to call her back. She needed him to find Tray’s mother.
Chapter 13
JP walked down El Cajon Boulevard, stopping at every bar along the way. At each one, he showed the bartender and some patrons the photo of Jeannine Copley, Tray's mother. Some knew her, but no one had seen her in several weeks. He was almost to the end of El Cajon Boulevard when he spoke to two women standing on the street corner. One was dressed in a tight, short, black skirt, a bright pink tube top, and stiletto heels. The other was dressed in what appeared to be a cat-woman costume.
"Hello, cowboy," the woman in the tube top said. "Are you looking for a little action?"
"Actually, I'm looking for a missing person." He handed her the photo of Jeannine Copley. "Do you know this woman?"
She shook her head. "No, sorry."
Cat woman spoke up. "That's Jeannine. She hasn't been working for months. Last I heard, she was in rehab. Unless Jolly got his hooks in her again."
The Advocate's Homicides Page 5