The Advocate's Homicides

by Teresa Burrell

  "Same with Barlowe," Bob said. "But in all fairness, that's a pretty common scenario. They’re all boys and about the same age, which is a little older than our standard molest victim. Barlowe's and Tray's attackers were never convicted for their offenses."

  "Nor was Oscar's," Sabre said. "Do you think it's a vigilante?"

  "Maybe," Bob said.

  "But you would think if someone is killing sexual predators, they wouldn't want the blame to fall on the victims of the molests," Sabre said.

  "You're giving them too much credit. If it's a sociopath, he or she won't care about the kids."

  "You're right," Sabre said. "What else do we have? Location? The victims were all found in El Cajon and the dependency cases were all East County, El Cajon and La Mesa areas."

  "How does all this help us?" Roberto asked.

  "I don't know if it does," Sabre said, "but if we keep brainstorming, we may come up with something."

  They continued to compare the dependency cases, the sexual predators, and the defendants, looking for similarities and differences. Nothing was giving them any great insight.

  "Let's explore the timing of the murders for a minute," JP suggested. "The first was about three years ago, the second was a couple of weeks ago, right?"

  "Actually," Roberto said, "our victim was found recently, but the time of death appears to be more like four months ago. He's been dead for a while."

  "So, either there are more bodies, or our Goof Killer has really ramped up his killing spree," Bob said.

  "Or maybe the rabbits had the gun," JP said.

  Sabre and Bob both nodded. Roberto looked at Sabre and then at Bob and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't speak JP. What does that mean?"

  "JP means that maybe it wasn't convenient, or easy enough, or timely for some reason to kill anyone in between the other murders," Sabre said.

  "Which means he would have to be very calculating and more concerned about doing it right than just getting it done," Bob said. "That could be helpful. Then it would be more likely to be someone like Jesse, who runs the group home, than say, the groundskeeper."

  "That's right, but I'll investigate them all."

  Chapter 45

  JP's background check on Jesse Alder came up clean with the exception of one incident. He had been in a bar fight when he was twenty-three and had hurt a guy pretty bad, but all the witnesses claimed the other guy provoked him. They were both arrested for being drunk in public, but no other charges were filed on Jesse. He was charged with a misdemeanor, given a diversion so he didn’t do jail time, and the charges were erased from his record. That didn't, however, erase the police files.

  Jesse's family background seemed normal enough. He came from a middle-class home. His parents were both retired school teachers who were living in northern California where Jesse was born and raised. He moved south to attend San Diego State, where he received a degree in Sociology.

  "You've worked here since college, right?" JP asked, glancing around the office. Jesse sat at a desk made of plywood and pressboard. He surmised that no matter how old the desk became, it would never be considered an antique. The top of the desk was messy, piled with files, loose papers, and a huge stack of unopened mail, which Jesse was attempting to sort.

  "Actually, I started here when I was still in college,” Jesse said, as he emptied an envelope and placed it on a stack to his right. “My plan was to get a degree in education and teach school just like my parents. But once I interned here at Wilson, I knew right from the start that I had found my calling. I realized how lucky I was to be born into the family I had. Most of these boys don't stand a chance. And even though we lose a lot of them, I'm more impressed with how many succeed than the number who fail, considering their starts in life. Some of them have no one to love them. I get pretty attached sometimes, and I have had to learn to be careful or they'll take advantage. They discover pretty quickly that I mean business and that I can still care for them. The pay isn't great, but I have no interest in going anywhere else, at least not somewhere that I am not working with children."

  "Did you come right in as director of the program?"

  Jesse continued to open the mail. “I hope you don’t mind, I really have to get this done, but I can talk and work at the same time.”

  “No problem.”

  "To answer your question: No, I didn’t start as director. I started at the bottom and worked my way up. The truth is most people don't last very long in this kind of job, so I ended up as the director partly by default." He chuckled. "I just outlasted everyone else."

  "I imagine you want to pummel some of these parents, or the people who hurt the children. I know I would."

  "Not so much. I know they have their own problems too. I learned long ago that violence doesn't usually get the end result you want. I was kind of a hothead back in my drinking days, but I've been in a twelve-step program for over twenty years now."

  "Any of your employees have an anger problem?"

  "Callum gets a little hot under the collar now and then, but most of the kids think of him as a big, cuddly bear. He's never lost his temper around one of the kids, but I did see him put a parent in his place once when the father came here high and tried to take his kid with him."

  "What did Callum do?"

  "He took the guy’s keys, called him a cab, and when the man refused to leave, Callum picked him up like a rag doll and threw him into the cab. He told the man he could leave in the cab and come back to get his car when he was clean or he could take his keys, leave, and the cops would be waiting at the end of the road for him, but either way he was going without his son. He left in a cab."

  JP laughed.

  "The one here who gets the most upset, especially with the sexual assaults, is Cheryl, our office manager. She's always talking about clever ways to punish the goofs, as she calls them." He made air quotes when he said goofs.

  "She calls them goofs?"

  "Yes."

  "Was she calling them that before or is that since the media dubbed the boys Goof-Killers?"

  "I'm not sure now that you ask. I think she always called them that, but I can't be certain."

  JP made a mental note to talk to Cheryl about it.

  "Oscar has been here for about a year, right?"

  "Yes."

  "How many boys live here?"

  “There are eleven right now, counting Oscar. We were at our maximum capacity until Barlowe left last week. We were supposed to get a new resident tomorrow, but it was put on hold until the group home is fully investigated."

  "Is licensing shutting you down?"

  "No, at least not at this point.” Jesse rifled through the remaining mail. “Nothing in here today that says they are. The police are investigating since three boys who have passed through here have been charged with murder. It doesn't bode well for our reputation. Licensing isn't doing anything until after the police investigation is completed."

  "Have the cops been here?" JP asked.

  "The day Barlowe and Oscar were arrested, this place was swarming with cops. Detectives have been out several times since then. Everyone has been interrogated—employees and residents—and criminal checks have been run again. They came with a search warrant and pretty much turned this place upside down. I don't know what they expected to find, or what they actually found for that matter, but they did leave with a few small bags of evidence and some computers. I got the impression they think these boys were all part of some big, teenage, vigilante, homicide ring."

  "What do you think?"

  "I can't imagine any of those boys doing what they've accused them of, but I'm no psychologist and I wouldn't begin to guess what goes on in their minds. For some of these boys, the anger goes real deep."

  "Have you ever seen any signs of collaboration between these boys?"

  "Tray was only here for a little while and he never knew the other two,” Jesse responded without hesitation. “Oscar and Barlowe didn't really hang out together. Oscar doesn
't get along that well with anyone, except for Callum and one of the older boys named Mario. Oscar's more of a loner."

  "Has he lived here the longest?"

  "No, this facility is considered long-term, so most of our residents stay a while."

  "How long have the other boys been here?"

  He pondered for a few seconds. "We have one boy who came here about six months before Oscar; three more who have been here about two years; two others who have been here for at least five years; and the other five arrived after Oscar."

  "What's the story on the two who've been here the longest?"

  "Jacob Lowe came when he was eleven and he just turned sixteen. Mario Robinson came a few months later. He was thirteen and he's about to graduate from the program. We can't keep him after he turns eighteen, which is next month. I, for one, hate to see Mario go. He's turned into quite a decent young man. It's almost like having another staff member the way he takes leadership roles in the group home, and not just with Jacob. I'm also concerned about what Jacob will do. We fully expect him to leave when Mario does."

  "Why's that?"

  "He wants to live with Mario and has threatened to run away if Mario doesn't take him with him. They're like brothers. Mario has looked after Jacob since he came into the group home. Jacob is pretty troubled. He has a lot of anger issues, and when he gets out of control, Mario can usually calm him down when no one else can."

  "How could Mario take him?” JP asked. “The courts won't likely place Jacob with him, right?"

  “No, they won't for sure. If they were actually brothers, then they might, but not this way. Besides, Mario plans to join the military. We've been working with recruitment and as soon as he's eighteen, he'll head to boot camp."

  "I'm not asking for specifics, but all your boys have had some kind of inappropriate sexual experiences prior to being admitted here, correct?"

  "Yes, this program only accepts sexually abused victims. Unfortunately, most of the time we are full, which tells you how rampant the problem is. We have three specially-trained psychologists who work with us at all times, and our staff goes through a thorough background check as well as a rigorous training program before working with the children. They're all trained to work with children who have been sexually abused."

  Jesse opened the last envelope, placed it on a stack to his left, and then picked up the stack. He attempted to open a drawer on the side of his desk, but it stuck. He wiggled it and then gave it a little yank. He looked up at JP before placing the papers in the drawer. “Everyone knows their own piece of junk best,” he said as he patted his desk. “Sorry, where were we?”

  "Are the psychologists on staff here?"

  "No, they all have private practices, but they're court-approved and come here to work with the boys. We've been very fortunate to have some extremely well-qualified therapists. Even then, they aren't always effective. From what I understand, Oscar refuses to ever talk about the molest, even in therapy."

  "Who are the therapists?"

  "Dr. Debra Clark, Dr. John Bell, and Dr. Prasad Bopardikar."

  "Is each case assigned to one particular doctor?"

  "Yes, but they each see the patient for an intake, and then the three of them decide who is the better fit. When one of them can’t be there, one of the others covers for him or her. They are all very busy outside Wilson, so it works better that they can all work together. In addition, they have some group sessions and the therapists take turns leading those."

  "I'd like to talk to the doctors. I'm familiar with Dr. Bell, but I'll get the contact information on the other two from Cheryl." JP paused. "Are Mario and Jacob here today?"

  "Yes, would you like to talk to them?"

  "That would be good. I'd like to start with Mario if I could."

  "I'll get him. Would you like an interview room or if you’d rather, you can use the picnic table.”

  “Outside would be good. Thank you.”

  JP walked outside and around the area surrounding the main entrance to the house. The sun was shining and the temperature was a comfortable seventy-three degrees, according to a thermometer that was nailed to one of the trees. Eucalyptus trees shaded most of the compound, keeping the area cool. Amongst the trees was a picnic table where JP sat down for a minute.

  A few minutes later, he saw Jesse and a young, dark-haired man who was at least an inch taller than the director’s six-foot-tall frame. When they approached, Jesse made the introductions.

  "Would you mind if we talked out here?"

  "That's fine," Mario said.

  "When you’re done, Mario, will you please get Jacob, so Mr. Torn can speak with him as well?"

  "No problem, Mr. Alder."

  JP asked Mario about his interest in the military and shared his own experience when Mario questioned him further about the time he had served. Mario seemed eager to start the next chapter of his life, and he had realistic expectations of military life, or as realistic as any eighteen-year-old could.

  JP retrieved a photo of Tray from his folder and showed it to Mario. "This young man was once a resident here. Do you remember him?"

  Mario studied the photo. "I do. He was here three or four years ago, but he didn't stay very long. We bunked together and we became pretty good friends." Mario pointed across the yard toward the woods where Oscar had been hiding. "Tray and I built a fort together back there. It wasn't on Wilson property and we weren't actually supposed to do it, but we built it anyway. The fort looked pretty good when we built it, but now it's in bad shape. No one is allowed to go in it anymore. We never were supposed to be in the woods back there, but over the years most of us have gone there at one time or another." He paused. "Tray was a good kid, but he was very sad most of the time. I heard him cry himself to sleep at night. He hated that he had to leave his home because of that creep, and he really missed his sister and his mom."

  "Did he confide in you?"

  "Some."

  "Did he ever talk to you about Glen Irving?"

  "You mean the guy he supposedly killed?"

  "You know about that?"

  "There's not too many secrets around here. But no, he never talked about him except to say that he hated him."

  Chapter 46

  Jacob refused to talk to JP at first, but Mario finally coaxed him into it on the firm condition that Mario stayed with him. Even then, it was of little use. He claimed he didn't remember Tray, he hated Oscar, and Barlowe was a dork. He said he didn't like it at Wilson and he was leaving when Mario joined the service.

  "They can't make me stay here," Jacob said.

  "It isn't that bad here," Mario said. "You need to be strong and finish school. You can do it."

  "I'm going to join the military too. I want to be a Marine."

  "There's nothing wrong with that," JP said. "I was a Marine myself, but you have a couple of years before you can join and you have to get your high school diploma first."

  "I do?"

  "I'm afraid so, but that's a good reason to finish school. What makes you want to be a Marine?"

  "Because I'm tired of everyone telling me what to do," Jacob said.

  JP did all he could to keep from laughing, but he knew Jacob was serious. He caught a glimpse of Mario, who was also trying to check his smile.

  JP continued to question Jacob, but to no avail. The boy didn't provide any information that might help determine if there was a secret society or an organizer of such at the group home.

  ***

  Callum Bridges, also known as Hagrid by the boys at Wilson, walked with JP around the property of the group home. JP picked up his pace because even his long stride was no match for that of Callum.

  "They're all good boys, you know," Callum said. "Even Oscar. They're not killers."

  "Do you remember Tray?" JP asked.

  "Course I do. I remember 'em all. These are my kids. I don't expect I'll ever have any of my own. Most women seem to be a little afraid of me, so I can't see myself ever getting married. It
's okay, ‘cause the best part of marriage is being a father and I have my kids right here."

  "Did Tray ever talk about Irving hurting him?"

  "Not really, but I think he felt safe with me. I always told him I wouldn't ever let anything happen to him on my watch."

  "Did you ever have to protect him?"

  "I didn't kill Irving, if that's what you mean."

  Callum may have moved slowly, but his mind was quicker than JP had thought. "Do you think there's some kind of secret club among the boys?"

  "Nothing I've ever seen here."

  "Is there one of the boys who Tray, Oscar, and Barlowe all looked up to?"

  Callum stroked his beard and his eyes narrowed under his bushy eyebrows. "The only boy here that any of them seemed to respect is Mario, but he wouldn't do anything like that."

  "Do the boys obey Mario when he tells them to do things?"

  "Most of the time, but it isn’t like that. He isn't controlling or a bully or anything. He never tells them to do anything bad. He's just kind to them and respectful of them. Most of the boys return the respect."

  "Is Antonio Vargas here today? I'd like to talk to him."

  "He's off today. He seldom takes any days off, but he had to drive to Orange County to see his uncle in the hospital."

  "I hope his uncle is okay." JP checked his notes. "How about the cook, Isaac?"

  "He left already. He'll be back later. He works a split shift. Jesse tried to set up the hours with another cook, but Isaac wanted it this way. Apparently, working a split shift works for him."

  "Thank you for your input. I'll stop and see Cheryl on my way out. I noticed she was in the office when I came by."

  "She'll take care of you. She loves visitors."

  ***

  The office assistant at Wilson, Cheryl Scobba, took a liking to JP right off and told him she'd help any way she could. She was blunt about her feelings toward child molesters and what she thought should be done with them. In fact, she was blunt about everything. Her idea of an appropriate trial and sentencing for the goofs didn't include a court of law. She grew up in Montana and was a card-carrying NRA member. JP got the impression that she wouldn't be afraid to use her gun on a goof if she needed to.