JP and Sabre had agreed that they should share the information about the fort and the notebook with the group. JP told them he had found a deck of playing cards; a black marker; an old, burgundy, spiral notebook; and four Playboy magazines.
"Where are the Playboy magazines?" Bob asked.
"Right, Bob," Sabre said, "because that's what's important here."
"I left them there," JP said. "I couldn't bring everything without Antonio seeing what I had, and I thought the notebook was a little more important."
JP went on to explain that he had already taken the marker and the notebook to a lab to check for fingerprints. He had managed to get prints from Callum, Jesse, Cheryl, and Antonio without their knowledge. No one in the room asked how he’d done it. JP looked at Roberto. "If you're willing, I'd like to check for Barlowe's prints as well. And I'd like a sample of his handwriting. By the way, the only word written throughout the notebook is the word GOOF, all in capitals. The letters were a little less than an inch high and about three to a page.”
Roberto didn't answer right away.
"I know this is risky, Q," Sabre said. “If we can't figure this out, at some point we may need to start pointing the finger at each other. But I've been down this road once and failed miserably. I think the best thing we can do for our clients is to group together."
"Bob, what do you think?" Roberto asked.
"I'd do it, but it's your call."
"Okay," Roberto said. "I'll get both the fingerprints and the handwriting sample for you. If they are damaging, hopefully we can keep the information under work product."
"Unless someone has a better idea, we're going forward with three workable theories," Sabre said. "And these are in no particular order at this time."
"One scenario is that someone is killing these men and pointing the finger at the boys. Another is that the boys are organized and are killing their offenders. The last is that Tray killed Irving and the subsequent murders were done by copycats, possibly the boys. There are also some variations of these that we can hash out. Let's start with the first. We’ll look at the suspects and see what we can come up with."
"Who are the most likely suspects for scenario one?" Roberto asked.
“In my opinion it's Mario, Cheryl, and Dr. Debra Clark," JP said. "The best we can tell is that none of them have alibis for at least one of the murders—specifically Roy Harris, Barlowe’s goof. Everton’s time of death is not exact and Tray’s case is so old no one can remember where they were at the time of Irving’s death. All three of the suspects are well liked by the boys and have good access to them.”
“Do you really think it could be Cheryl?” Sabre asked.
“Cheryl came right out and said she didn't do it,” JP said. “I tend to believe her, but I haven't written her off yet. She's a little different—sort of a cowboy. She doesn't strike me as a planner, but more of a ‘shoot-from-the-hip’ woman. She helped me obtain information from the files, but that might have been to throw me off—or if she's a real psycho, a strange kind of challenge.”
“What about Dr. Prasad and Dr. Bell?” Q asked.
“Dr. Prasad had limited contact with the boys,” JP said. “He had met Tray but never really worked with him, and he had very limited time with Oscar or Barlowe. And Dr. Bell was in Africa when both Irving and Harris were killed.”
"And the second scenario?" Bob asked. "Who's most likely organizing them?"
"That list is a little longer, but at this point my money is on Mario," JP said. "He's smart, efficient, a leader, and the boys all trust him. Though it could be Callum, Cheryl, Dr. Deb, Dr. Bell, Dr. Prasad, or Isaac, and maybe even Antonio or Jesse."
“That narrowed it down,” Bob said.
JP ignored his sarcasm and continued. "I don't think it's Isaac Horne, the cook. The boys all claimed he was grumpy, and they're right about that. I believe Isaac tolerates the kids. He doesn't seem to pay much attention to what they're doing unless they're in his dining hall. There, he is king and he makes that clear to them. He isn't particularly friendly with the staff, either, but he’s a good cook and he keeps order during meals, so he keeps his job."
Sabre spoke. "But in both the second and third scenarios where the boys are doing the killing, they would need help. The group home is at least six miles from Coyote Ridge. How would they get there? They couldn't do it alone, could they?"
"Tray and Mario managed to build a substantial fort off the group home grounds using tools they 'borrowed' from the groundskeeper." JP made air quotes when he said "borrowed." "They built it without the awareness of any of the adults at Wilson with the exception of Antonio. Why couldn't they just as well get away to commit the murders?"
"They would need transportation for one thing," Sabre said. "They couldn't exactly take a bus with a dead body."
"They could’ve killed them at the place they were buried," Bob said, playing devil's advocate. "We really don't know where any of them were killed for certain."
"Besides, the buses don't run there," Sabre said.
"What about a bike?" Roberto suggested. "Any of those boys could have ridden a bike six miles."
"I thought of that, so I checked," JP said. "There are no bikes on the premises at Wilson."
"JP, do you think the boys managed to sneak away, kill, and bury these bodies?" Bob asked.
"No," JP said. "I certainly don't believe they did it on their own. I think it's highly unlikely that they did it without someone organizing them. One of the things that bothers me about this whole thing is that even though Mario is the most likely, he doesn't seem conniving or manipulative, and he certainly doesn't fit the profile of a serial killer. There are so many things that just don't add up."
"So if it's none of the usual suspects, who is it?" Roberto said. "Or what is it we don't know about the employees and the residents at Wilson?"
"Mario is still on both 'most likely' lists," Bob said. "I think we should have another look at him."
"We can, but we need to do it fast," JP said. "He's joining the Marine Corps on his eighteenth birthday. That's only a couple of weeks away. And another thing: as you all know, every boy at the group home has some sexual abuse history. I found out the names of the perps for Jacob and Mario, the only two residents of Wilson who knew all three of the defendants: Tray, Oscar, and Barlowe. I just discovered that Mario's assaulter was convicted and Jacob's has been missing for about four years. Any bets that he's dead too?"
Chapter 51
Sabre was driving when JP called.
"Hi, kid, got a minute?"
"Sure. I'm just leaving the courthouse. My trial settled so it freed my afternoon to work on something else. What's up?"
"I got the results back on the fingerprint tests. The prints on the pen belong to Oscar, Barlowe, and Cheryl."
"More than likely, the pen came from Cheryl's office, which means it doesn't necessarily implicate her."
"I thought the same thing, but I'm not ruling her out. The notebook had three sets of prints, none of which belonged to Cheryl, Callum, Jesse, or Antonio. The prints belonged to Oscar, Barlowe, and one other unidentified person."
"I'm meeting with Barbara Foltz, the handwriting expert, in about fifteen minutes,” Sabre said. “I was supposed to go later, but I called her when my trial settled and she was glad to have me come in early. Do you want to join us? You might learn something."
"I can’t. I'm meeting with Nelson in about half an hour. Good luck with your expert."
"I know you don't put a lot of stock in her expertise, but the courts recognize her as such, and hopefully she can lead us in the right direction."
"You're right. Call me when you're done."
***
The handwriting expert's office looked like a garden. Dried, preserved eucalyptus trees of all heights in decorative pots were scattered in clusters around the room. A small, western saddle surrounded by foliage and dried flowers created a beautiful piece of artwork and was hung on one wall. A mist smelling of lavende
r emanated from two small pots strategically placed in the office. Amongst the trees were two soft chairs and a desk with a swivel chair behind it. The swivel chair held an attractive, auburn-haired woman in her mid-to-late sixties. When she turned to the side, Sabre saw she was wearing the brightest, most colorful pair of leggings she had ever seen. From her feet to her knees was a bright red pair of cowboy boots covered with bling. Barbara Foltz was an interesting woman.
"Beautiful office," Sabre said, glancing around in an attempt to take it all in.
"Thank you," Barbara said. "We grow the trees on our ranch, dry them, and process them. My husband is the creative one. He did all the artwork you see in here. We still wholesale the plants, but we used to sell them at home shows, festivals, and fairs. Back then I did the handwriting analysis on the side. Now it's my full-time gig."
"I'm afraid if my office were this gorgeous I'd never get anything done."
"You'd be surprised how much a comfortable atmosphere can help you concentrate." She picked up the notebook JP had found in the fort. "But you didn't come here to talk about that. I spent a lot of time studying the writing in this notebook and the handwriting samples you brought me."
"And did you find a match?"
"It took me a while because there were so many pages, but I found two matches. The notebook had two distinctly different handwritings on the inside. One is neat and orderly; the other’s hurried and messy. Toward the end of the notebook, the writing started to look more alike, but it was still by two different people. I couldn't testify to this part, but it looks like they were practicing."
"And do you know who wrote in it?"
"Yes, the writing matches that of the first two samples that JP brought me."
"And none of the others?"
"No."
"I pulled the file from the last case you brought me a couple of years ago, that of Tray Copley. I assumed they were connected, since you had me analyzing the same odd word. Is it related?" Before Sabre could answer, she said, "You can tell me to mind my own business if you want. Sometimes I'm just a nosey witch."
"They seem to be related, although we haven't been able to find the exact connection. Did you compare those old samples with the notebook?"
"I did, and they were not a match."
"I was pretty certain of that."
"Do they have another body with this word written on it? There I go sticking my nose in again."
"It's okay. They found bodies, plural. There are two of them. If the case goes to trial, I'll be bringing you the photos of the victim's forehead for you to analyze as well, but I hope it doesn't get that far."
"For what it's worth, I don't believe Tray wrote on that body. There was something wrong with it, but I don't know exactly what because we didn't have a good enough sample. It's far more difficult to determine from a photo than from an actual written object."
***
Sabre left the office and called Roberto Quiñones on her way to her car. She informed him of the fingerprint results first.
"That's not good news," Roberto said.
"It gets worse. I'm just leaving the office of the handwriting analyst. She says Oscar and Barlowe wrote the words in the notebook."
"Yet they claim to know nothing about the murders."
"If they're sharing a notebook and a fort, they must know something about one another’s actions," Sabre said. "Maybe we need to put a little pressure on our clients and see what they'll tell us."
"I'm game if you are,” Roberto said. “Maybe if we confront them with this new evidence, one of them will come around."
"That's the plan, then."
Chapter 52
Oscar seemed genuinely pleased to see Sabre, a behavior he hadn’t exhibited often lately. She chalked it up to loneliness.
"Is that a black eye?" Sabre asked, looking closer at his face.
"I ran into a door."
"Did you get into a fight?"
"It wasn't that big a deal."
"What happened?"
"Some big, ugly kid called me ‘Midget,' so I punched him." He demonstrated by slamming his right fist into his left palm. "I woulda beat him up if some dudes hadn't stopped it. They only stopped us because they didn't want marks against the unit."
"I should've heard about it. Didn't it get reported?"
"No. It didn't last long, but I got a couple of good punches in." This time he double-pumped his fist in his palm.
Sabre felt bad for this angry, small, twelve-year-old having to fight his way through juvenile hall and through life itself. She wondered if this was the way his life would always be.
"Oscar," Sabre began, after she'd been with him for about five minutes, "I need you to be straight with me. I'm struggling to find a good defense for you because I can't seem to get the information I need."
"Okay, but I've been telling you the truth."
"I'm thinking there may be a few things you left out. Anything you can tell me about your life since you went to live in the group home might be of help. Do you understand?"
"I think so."
"What boys at Wilson did you spend time with?"
"Most of those guys there are a pain in the butt." He moved his shoulders up and down, just to be moving.
"Why? What kinds of things did they do that make them a pain in the butt?"
"They called me names and teased me."
"How did you react when they did that?"
"I used to hit them, but I got in trouble for fighting too much."
"What about Mario? Did he tease you or call you names?"
"No. He wasn't so bad. But I didn't really hang with him. He was always busy doing stuff." Oscar started rocking back and forth. He had such a hard time sitting still; Sabre wondered how he would be able to survive in long-term confinement.
"What about Jacob?"
"He's the worst. He thinks he's so tough 'cause he's been there the longest."
"And Barlowe?"
He wrinkled his nose. "He's a chicken. You could call his mother names and he wouldn't fight."
No one spoke for a moment, and then Sabre said, "I know about the fort in the woods." Oscar looked up in surprise. Sabre continued, not wanting to give him too much time to think about it. "Do you know who built it?"
"I heard it was Mario and some other kid who was there years ago. I asked Mario once, but he never admitted it."
"Did you go there often?"
He shrugged. "Whenever I felt like it."
"Did the staff know you were gone?"
"I think Callum did sometimes, but he never told on me. He was kinda good that way."
"Did he ever go there with you?"
A smile flashed on his face and then it was replaced by his usual sour look. "No, Hagrid's too big to get into the fort."
"Did you ever go there with Barlowe?"
He wrinkled his nose and spat his words. "No. I wouldn't go there with that dork. I didn't go there with anybody."
"What did you do when you were there?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno. I just hung out. Sometimes I'd sit on top of the fort and throw nuts at the squirrels."
"Did the Playboy magazines belong to you?"
Again he looked surprised. Sabre was always amused at how little teenagers thought adults knew. "No, they were there when I went to the fort."
"And the playing cards?"
"They were there too."
"And what about the notebook?"
"What notebook?"
"Inside the fort, we found a burgundy-colored, spiral notebook with your handwriting inside.”
He raised his voice. "I don't know nothing about no notebook."
Sabre showed Oscar a photo of the notebook. "Is this yours?"
"No."
"Have you ever seen it before?"
"No."
"I want you to think carefully. Have you ever seen anyone else with this notebook?"
He shook his head from side to side.
"Not Barlowe?"
>
"No," he said, sounding even more irritated.
***
Juvenile court had emptied out except for a few stragglers. It was already twelve-fifteen and almost everyone had gone to lunch. Bob and Sabre were walking out when they spotted Roberto.
"We're going to Pho’s. Want to join us?" Bob asked.
"I wish I could, but I have to go over to the Hall and talk to Barlowe."
Roberto went through the door that led to the tunnel and then to juvenile hall. Sabre and Bob stepped outside into the misty air.
"Is it going to rain?" Sabre said.
"Naw. I think this is all we're going to get, but I have an umbrella in the car if we need it."
"Then you can drive." They walked to Bob's car and got inside. "Q told me earlier that you talked to Barlowe. Did you learn anything new?"
"Just that your client, Oscar, is always looking for a fight and he's a 'stupid idiot.' His words, not mine."
"Well, that's because Barlowe is a 'dork' and a 'chicken.'" Sabre laughed. "They obviously don't like each other much. Oscar denied ever going to the fort with Barlowe and any knowledge of the notebook."
"So did Barlowe. I can't see those two working together. I think it comes back to Mario. He seems to be the one who can work with both of them. Have you met Mario?"
"Yes, I've seen him a few times when I visited Oscar at the group home. The way Mario carried himself and the way the other residents reacted to him gave me the impression that he was staff. I didn't realize then that he was a resident. He just seems like a good kid. I don't remember him from when Tray was there, but I think I only went there once before Tray was moved."
***
Bob and Sabre ate their meals quickly at Pho's and went back to the car. They both had busy schedules for the afternoon. They had no sooner stepped into the car when Sabre's phone rang. "It's Q," she said to Bob as she looked at the Caller ID, and then answered the phone.
The Advocate's Homicides Page 21