"Have you always called child molesters goofs, or did you start that after the media tagged the victims with it?"
"That was a household word as long as I can remember. My grandfather, as well as my father, used it. I think my grandfather picked it up when he was in prison in Canada in the 60s. But that’s another story."
"Did you ever use it in front of the boys here in the group home?"
"Probably. I don't know for sure, but I tend to just speak my mind. I've been reprimanded for it, but I don't have much of a filter."
"Do you remember Tray Copley?"
"I do. He was one of the best to pass through here, but he was always sad. I couldn't believe it when he was convicted of that murder."
"What about the other two boys, Barlowe and Oscar?"
"Barlowe is a good kid for the most part and even Oscar has kind of grown on me. He often came to see me and just hang out. He preferred that over being with most of the other kids. That Oscar is a strange one." Then she quickly added, "Not like a killer or anything. He's just a typical, angry teenager. He just has more to be angry about."
"If you had to pick someone here that could’ve killed all three of these men, who would it be?"
Cheryl thought for a minute, and then chuckled. "Me."
"You?"
"Yes, I'm the most likely. I hate those goofs. Every day I see the damage they've done to these poor boys firsthand, and I just want to kill them all. But if I were going to do it, I would've shot them in the balls and let them bleed to death. And I sure as hell wouldn't have let Tray get convicted for it." She exhaled. "To answer your question, I don't see anyone here who has the temperament."
The phone rang and Cheryl answered it. She took a file out of the cabinet behind her, answered a couple of questions, and hung up. She looked up at JP. "Is there any way I can help you with your investigation? I don't want to see any more of our boys charged with murder."
"I'd like to see the files on Mario and Jacob if that's possible."
"Now, Mr. Torn, you know I can't do that." She stood up, opened the door to a closet, and rifled through a file cabinet. She returned with two thick files and set them on her desk. "Would you please excuse me for a few minutes? I need a break." She left the room with Jacob's and Mario's files sitting on her desk.
JP waited for a few seconds to make sure she was gone and then perused each file, taking copious notes and a number of photos. When he was finished, he closed the files and left the room. Cheryl was standing outside her office door as he left.
"Good day, ma'am," JP said as he passed her.
Chapter 47
Sabre had dinner ready for JP when he arrived, something she seldom did. She was not known for her culinary skills, not so much that she didn't know how, but mostly because she didn't like cooking. She had a few soups that she didn't mind making and often cooked those when the weather called for them. Today was one of those days. Clouds had set in by late afternoon, and by six o'clock rain had started to fall. Rainy weather called for soup. She hoped JP liked lentils. There is so much a couple doesn't know about one another in a new relationship, and theirs was still very new. Sabre and JP had only had a few dates, so she wasn't even sure if what they had qualified as a relationship. She did know that she was enjoying getting to know him. Unfortunately, she didn't make much of an impression with the lentil soup. She did discover that other than salad, there wasn't much that he liked to eat that was green.
His exact words were, "Sorry, kid, but 'cept for salad, I don't eat green."
"This isn't green. It's kind of brownish."
"Looks green to me."
"Do you want to just try it?" Sabre suggested.
"I will if you insist. The truth is I'm so hungry I could eat the south end of a northbound skunk, or I could eat this lentil soup, but I'd rather not do either."
Sabre laughed. "All I ask is that you taste it."
"Fair enough." Sabre handed him a spoon. He filled it up with the soup and swallowed it without making a face.
"Not bad." He kissed her on the forehead. "Mind if I order us a pizza?"
"Pizza it is."
While they waited for the delivery, JP gave her a rundown on what he had discovered in his investigation.
"I think Jesse is an unlikely suspect,” JP said. “He's too normal. There was nothing he said or did that triggered any suspicion. For certain, Jesse didn't kill Roy Harris because he has an alibi. That doesn't mean he couldn't be their leader, but I highly doubt it."
"You said there were two residents who were there before Tray?" Sabre asked.
"Yes, Jacob and Mario. I couldn't get much out of Jacob. I doubt if he is disciplined enough to be a leader or an organizer. Mario, on the other hand, is sharp, efficient, and a born leader. I talked to some of the other boys at the school, and they all seem to respect and follow him. He may have some kind of strange, cult-like hold on them for all I know, although I didn't get a 'creepy' vibe at all. But I'm starting to distrust my radar since none of these people strike me as killers. Yet, it almost has to be one of them.”
“We’re running out of suspects.”
"I suspected Callum more before my conversation with him,” JP continued. “He's very protective of the boys. It's possible that he could have killed those men, and he could've picked them up and dumped them in a hole he had dug all by himself. But I find it highly unlikely that he would let the boys take the fall."
"Maybe it's someone connected to the group home some other way," Sabre said.
"Like what?"
"I don't know. I'm just stretching here."
The doorbell rang and JP answered it, discreetly paying for the pizza. Sabre started to object but then stopped. He set the box on the table. Sabre retrieved a couple of paper plates from the kitchen and handed a plate to JP. They each took a piece of pizza, and neither spoke for a few minutes.
"So you don't think Mario is the killer either?" Sabre said, breaking the silence.
"No, but he may be the organizer. He knew all the boys, befriended Tray, likes Barlowe, and gets along with Oscar, and from what I can tell, that's no easy feat."
Sabre looked at her list. "Did you talk to Cheryl?"
"I did and I drew the best bull at the rodeo on that one."
"Okay, tell me."
"Cheryl hates molesters and has called them goofs all her life. She learned it from her pappy. I'm starting to think that's where the boys in the group home picked it up. She even suggested it could be her. But she was joking. At least I think she was joking."
"Seriously, do you think she's involved with the murders?"
"No, but it would explain why the kids out of the group home use the term goof. Here's the best part." JP looked away.
Sabre lowered her voice. "What did you do?"
"I got some badly needed information. Do you want to hear it?"
"Was it legally obtained?"
"I didn't commit any crimes."
"Okay then."
"I found out the names of the men who violated Jacob and Mario, and I've been researching their whereabouts."
"And?"
"Ned Powell, Mario's goof, for lack of a better term, was serving time in Corcoran State Prison on eighteen counts of sexual misconduct with three different children. He was arrested after the incident with Mario, who was ready and willing to testify against him. They found another family he had lived with prior to Mario’s and charged him with several counts of PC 288 from that living arrangement as well. He bought himself a twelve-year sentence."
"You said was. Is he out already?"
"Oh, he's out. He's pushing up daisies in the marble orchard. I guess the prisoners saw through his fake jacket and sent him out in a pine box."
"I've noticed that when these kids obtain justice through the court system, it seems to help them adjust better—like Mario, who seems to be the most stable one of these minors."
"Unless he's the murderer or the ringleader in this case, which would really destroy yo
ur theory."
"That's true, but I've seen it before. It's difficult for these kids to testify, but sometimes it empowers them as well when they get a good verdict. That can work both ways, though. It can be devastating when the perp doesn’t get convicted." Sabre flicked her hand in the air in a dismissive manner. "Enough of my soapbox. What about Jacob's goof? What's his name?"
"Carl Murray. I can't find him. He has no criminal record, his California driver's license expired about a year ago, and he's not at his last known address. He could be incarcerated in another state, or he may have just moved."
"Or he may be dead—like the rest of them," Sabre said.
"That's possible, too, maybe even likely. He has a brother who works at an upholstery fabric company in National City. I plan to pay him a visit tomorrow, but first I'm going back to the group home."
Chapter 48
JP walked to the shed where Antonio Vargas, the groundskeeper, was putting away some tools. He found Antonio to be as friendly as everyone had suggested, and the man seemed genuinely interested in the well-being of the boys.
"You've probably seen a lot of what goes on around here over the years," JP said.
"I often see the kids sneak around doing things they shouldn't do. I don't report them unless I think it's dangerous, either to themselves or to the others. Most of the time, it's harmless."
"Did you ever see Tray sneak out?"
"He and Mario used to do it all the time and go off there in the woods. They'd take pieces of wood with them from a shed I was building. I didn't notice right away and when I discovered it, they had gotten away with about five sheets of plywood and quite a few two-by-fours. I also noticed that some of my tools were missing from time to time, but they always returned them at the end of the day. I knew it was Tray and Mario, so I followed them once and discovered they were building a fort in the trees. They did a pretty decent job. I was proud of them."
"Did you ever go in the fort?"
"Just once right after they finished it to see if it was safe. I added a couple of braces, but I'm not sure they ever noticed."
"Did you report them?"
"No, I didn't have the heart. I just replaced the wood myself and no one was the wiser. I heard them talking about it sometimes, and they were so proud of themselves."
"What happened to the fort?"
"A few other kids discovered it and used it from time to time over the years, but then Callum found it and shut it down. The fort had a small opening, so I'm sure Callum couldn't get inside. It was getting pretty rickety. I think Oscar used it a few times, in spite of warnings from Callum. I'm pretty sure that's where Oscar would go to hide when he had to get away. I saw him go in that direction a lot. He's a runner, that one."
"Do you think you could show me where the fort is?"
"Sure, let's go."
They headed northeast on much the same path JP had taken when he’d helped search for Oscar just over a week ago. They walked past the eucalyptus trees on the group home grounds and then into an open area with bushes and large rocks.
As they left the eucalyptus trees, Antonio said, "That's where the Wilson property ends. The boys are not supposed to go beyond the tree line."
"But apparently they do," JP said.
"All the time."
They walked for about five hundred yards at an incline until they reached a small forest of pine trees. When the trees started to get dense, JP was glad he hadn't tried this alone. He couldn't tell one tree from another. If he was judging their direction correctly, they were walking almost due north.
"Just a little bit farther," Antonio said.
After walking by another twenty or thirty trees, the fort appeared. Within a cluster of four trees, sheets of plywood were nailed together in an almost square shape to create the walls that extended from the ground up. The plywood stood upright, making the walls four feet long and eight feet high on the forest ground. A single sheet of plywood lay on top and was covered with palm fronds, which appeared to be tied together with zip ties and attached to the trees with rope. One side of the structure was a little shorter than the other because the trees were not far enough apart, so the plywood stuck out a few inches on each side. It was definitely not plumb, but not bad considering the ages of the carpenters. An opening, which acted as a doorway, was cut out of the boards at the bottom of one side about three feet wide and two feet tall. In order to enter, one would have to get on his or her belly and crawl. A removable wooden crate partially filled with rocks was in front of the opening.
"That's their work of art," Antonio said. "Not bad, huh?"
"Pretty clever, actually. Their door leaves a little something to be desired, but I like the roof."
"I'm guessing they didn't have any hinges to make a real door, but the crate probably kept the big varmints and large people out." Antonio looked admiringly at the structure. "Are you going in?"
"I may as well. I'm here."
JP pulled the crate aside, turned on the flashlight on his phone, and lay down on the dirt, sticking his head in the opening. "Looks safe enough." He scooted along the ground, wriggling his way inside. He stood up and shined his flashlight around the room. A couple of old blankets that appeared to have been chewed on by rodents were in one corner. Written on one wall in large, faded letters was the word GOOF. JP took a photo of it with his phone, and then took several other photos of the fort.
Two wooden crates were piled one upon the other in one corner. JP shined the light inside and saw four Playboy magazines; a deck of playing cards; a dark burgundy, spiral notebook; and a black permanent marker. The magazines had no mailing stickers on them, and the issue dates were all within the same year, about four years ago. He used his shirt to pick up the marker and stuck it in his pocket. He did the same to pick up the notebook in order to avoid leaving his fingerprints. As he turned the notebook over, he saw the word GOOF written across the front in black marker. He tucked the notebook under his belt inside his pants and crawled out.
Chapter 49
Siri navigated JP directly to National City Upholstery, where he parked in the small parking lot amongst several semi and box trucks. The opening to the store, which was really more of a warehouse, was through the roll-up doors. Once inside, he asked two men, who were standing at the entrance, for the store manager, Ryan Murray. One of them pointed to a slightly balding man in his forties who wasn't more than twenty feet away. JP started toward him, but before he could get there the man sped across the floor to deal with a crisis. By the time JP reached him, the manager was barking orders at a young, male employee. He was still reprimanding the young man when the manager's phone rang. He answered it. JP waited and then followed him while Murray talked on the phone and walked the other direction. By the time Murray stopped moving, he was back near the store entrance. He hung up the phone.
"Excuse me, Ryan, I'm JP Torn. You said I could come by this morning."
"That's right. Sorry."
"Thanks for seeing me."
"No problem, but you'll have to walk with me. Two people called in sick this morning, so I need to be on the floor."
They walked past rows of tables piled high with rolls of fabric in all colors and patterns.
"When was the last time you saw your brother Carl?"
Ryan stopped. "It's been four or five years. He stopped coming around or calling. I called him a few times after I hadn't seen him in a couple of months, but the second time I called, his phone was no longer active."
"How often did you see him before that?"
"Every few months we'd try to get together, usually when he needed something, but sometimes it would be as long as six months between visits. That's why I didn't think that much of it at first."
"And now?"
"I can't help but wonder if something has happened to him. I think he would've at least called me by now. We weren't that close. Even when we were young we had very different interests and friends."
"Do you have other family here who m
ay have heard from him?"
"No. Our parents were killed in a car accident before we were out of grade school. We were raised by an aunt, but she passed away about ten years ago. We have an uncle and some cousins back east somewhere, but I don't even know what state they're in. I'm sure Carl didn't know either."
Ryan started walking at a rapid pace. "Hey," he yelled to two workers holding a large roll of green upholstery fabric. "That doesn't go there. Don't you see the yellow tag? Put it in the back." He stopped and shook his head from side to side. "They never learn. Look, I really should get back to work."
"One more thing."
"What's that?"
"Do you know anything about a family that Carl was living with about five years ago? There was a young boy named Jacob in the family."
"No, but then I never knew where Carl lived. He told me once about some woman accusing him of something, but he never told me what it was. And then it seemed to all go away because he didn't go to jail or anything." Ryan looked curiously at JP. "Unless he's been in jail all this time."
"If he is, it's not in this state. I've checked the system."
"Then I don't know what to tell you." He started to walk again.
"Have you reported Carl missing?"
"No."
"I'm sure you realize that there is a possibility that he's dead."
"I imagine a pretty good chance of it."
"Thanks for your help."
JP wondered why Ryan didn't ask for an update if JP found any information on his brother's whereabouts. Then he remembered his own brother. He probably wouldn’t have asked either.
Chapter 50
Bob, Roberto, Sabre, and JP met at Sabre's office in the same room as they had met previously. JP had added Mario and Jacob to the list of suspects on the whiteboard as well as the three therapists. The attorneys remained seated at the table.
The Advocate's Homicides Page 20