The Advocate's Felony

by Teresa Burrell

  “Just a little ATV accident.”

  “Little?” Edie said. “He nearly broke his back, the fool.”

  Gary winked at Sabre. She chuckled at their bickering. She knew it was done with love and they were very good at it. After twenty-five years of marriage, they had had plenty of practice. It had been difficult at first when they both retired, but they found their own interests and kept pretty busy. Edie volunteered at Goodwill, played Bingo several days a week, and crocheted lap blankets for Veterans. Gary, on the other hand, rode ATV’s with his old cronies, carved things out of wood, and spent a great deal of time at the shooting range.

  Sabre sighed as she walked inside. She was relieved to be out of the car and to have her mother far away from San Diego.

  ***

  After lunch, Edie ran an errand and Sabre’s mom took a nap. Sabre wandered out to Gary’s workshop where he was painting a face on a wooden duck. She picked up a perfectly carved wooden car that was not quite finished and examined it. “This is beautiful,” she said.

  “Thanks,” he looked up, catching her eye. “Now, do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” Sabre responded a little too quickly.

  Gary tilted his head, “Sabre, you don’t kid a kidder.”

  “Everything is fine.”

  “I understand if you don’t want to tell me. I just want to help if I can.”

  “I appreciate that, but I really can’t tell you anything.” She hesitated. She wanted to tell him everything, but she knew she couldn’t. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him, but the fewer people who knew, the better. She knew he would understand, too, since he had spent over forty years in law enforcement, first in the military and then on The Big Island in Hawaii for about eight years. The last thirty years of his career were spent serving Los Angeles County. “I don’t know how long we’ll be here, but I may need to leave Mom here for a while. Would that be okay?”

  “Of course.” His eyes closed a little and his brow rose. “Sabre, are you in danger?”

  “Maybe,” she said, and then added quickly, “but I’m sure no one knows we’re here.”

  “I’m not worried about us. I’m just concerned about you and your mother. You’re safe here, both of you.”

  Sabre heard the door open and Edie walked in. Sabre gave Gary a pleading glance. He whispered. “Your secret’s safe here too.”

  Chapter 6

  The cold air woke Ron. Just a sliver of moonlight was coming through the only window in the cabin. The wood in the stove had burned to ashes. His water bottle felt lukewarm. And the propane lamp had died out. Ron shivered as he felt his way to the table where he had laid a flashlight when he unloaded his car. He turned it on and checked his watch. It read 3:57. It was dark outside so it must be a.m. which meant he had slept over twelve hours.

  The sun would rise soon and hopefully bring some warmer weather, but for now he had to relight the fire in the stove. He wrapped himself in his blanket as he heated up more water for his water bottle. His stomach growled. He looked around for a package of his Papa Nacca’s Jerky, the only brand he ever ate. Then he made a pot of coffee while he gnawed at his favorite flavor, Fresh Green Chile.

  He sat back down near the stove with his coffee mug and took a deep breath. He felt safe, but he had to figure out what to do next. He couldn’t stay here forever and he had to check on Sabre. She was a smart girl and he was confident she would take their mother to a safe place, but she wouldn’t stay. She never was one to run from anything. At some point she would just go at the problem head on.

  And then he thought of Gina. Sweet, beautiful Gina. Why wasn’t she at home when he stopped there? Where was she?

  ***

  The snow had let up by mid-morning and the sun was trying to shine through the dense fir trees. Ron wandered outside to look around, amazed at the gorgeous view from the front of the cabin. Between the trees ran a creek surrounded by a soft, white cloud of snow. He remembered how beautiful it had been in past summers, but this was even more incredible. It was this creek that had led him here the first time many years ago. He had heard there was really good fishing in Prickly Pear Creek and so his search began.

  Back then, Ron was twenty-two years old and adventurous. He loved the outdoors and fishing was his favorite sport. He could sit for hours just watching the fish in the water. One summer he took off by himself to go fishing in Montana. Somehow he got off course and spent several days wandering the Elkhorn Mountains trying to find his way back before he ran out of supplies. He wandered for two more days before he found Warm Springs Creek. He made an attempt at fishing in it until he discovered there were no fish. He followed the meandering stream in hopes it would lead him to Prickly Pear Creek, but instead he found this cabin.

  A tall, rugged man with a thin face wearing boots, jeans, a cowboy hat, and a big, silver buckle was outside stacking wood. His deep-set eyes and prominent eyebrows coupled with his mustache gave him a Sam Elliott look. Ron extended his hand and said, “I’m Ron Brown.”

  “Tuper,” the man responded.

  “That’s your first or last name?”

  “Just Tuper.”

  “Tuper,” Ron said. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise,” Tuper said and continued to stack his wood.

  “Can I give you a hand?”

  “If it suits ya.”

  Ron laid his things down and pitched in, taking Tuper’s lead and stacking accordingly. No words were exchanged for several minutes. Finally, Ron said, “I got lost.”

  “I figured.”

  “I came up here to go fishing in the creek.”

  “Ain’t no fish in this creek.”

  “Yeah, I discovered that. I was trying to find Prickly Pear Creek, but I got off course.”

  Tuper started to laugh. “I guess you did, boy. That’s a long way from here. How long you been walking in these mountains?”

  “A couple of days.”

  Tuper looked directly at Ron for the first time since he walked up. When he did, Ron saw the scar that ran down the right side of his cheek, starting at the corner of his eye and ending just under his chin. Tuper looked him over from top to bottom. “You got a gun?”

  “No, sir. I don’t own a gun.”

  “Good thing you didn’t meet up with a bear,” Tuper said, as he stepped toward the side of the cabin and picked up his rifle. Then he walked toward the door. Ron stood there and watched him leave. When Tuper reached the door he turned back and said, “You comin’?”

  Tuper took Ron in, fed him, and put him up for a couple of days. He showed him around his property, took him to some good fishing spots, and gave him a taste of real country living. Ron returned the next summer and spent a week with him. He found Tuper to be an interesting man with a strange code of ethics. Tuper loved to gamble. In fact, Ron was quite certain that was how he made his living. The women found him charming even though he didn’t take enough baths to suit Ron. He believed in vigilante justice and was loyal to a fault. Ron never once saw him take a drink of alcohol, soda, or coffee. His drink of choice was black tea. He was a man of few words, but when he said something it was usually worth hearing.

  Ron wished Tuper was there now to help him figure out where to go. He wanted Sabre, his mom, and Gina with him so he could keep them safe, but this was no place for them to live. Ron was certain Tuper would know where to hide until things settled down. He often disappeared himself for long periods of time, never explaining where he went. He never spoke of family. As far as Ron knew, he had none. Ron figured it was Tuper’s passion for gambling or his latest love interest that took him away.

  Ron walked around the side of the house to the snow-covered woodpile. He brushed nearly a foot of snow away before he reached some wood. He loaded it into his arms and carried it inside. He did that until he had both wood boxes filled and an extra stack alongside each of the boxes.

  He made some breakfast, drank more coffee, and fidgeted with the propane lantern. B
y nine o’clock he had decided to check on Sabre. He drove into Clancy and found a pay phone at the Elkhorn Search and Rescue. He smiled at the irony.

  Ron took the paper out of his wallet and called Attorney Robert Clark. Although it was Sunday, he hoped Bob might be in his office working. When that didn’t work, he tried Bob’s cell. After five rings it went to voice mail. Ron hung up and started to walk away. When he was just a few steps from his car the pay phone rang. He bolted back to the booth and picked it up, hoping it was Bob calling back.

  “Hello,” Ron said cautiously.

  “Ron?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is Bob Clark. Did you just call me?”

  “Yes, I did.” Suddenly, Ron hesitated. Crazy thoughts ran through his head. What if someone had Bob’s phone? What if they were holding him hostage? “How do I know you are who you say you are?”

  “Because no one else would be fool enough to call you back. I can assure you it’s me, Sabre’s best friend, Butthead O’Brien to you.”

  “Tell me something that wasn’t in my conversation with Sabre.”

  “Okay. I met you just once, at the hospital in San Diego when Sabre had been shot. You are decently good-looking and almost as charming as me. You look a lot like Dr. Steele. And when you were kids you lived next door to a kid named Victor Spinoli.”

  “Sorry. I guess I’m a little paranoid.”

  “With good reason,” Bob responded.

  “Did Sabre and my mom leave town?”

  “Yes, they did. They were headed to Arizona.”

  “That’s where I thought they’d go. I guess Sabre and I still think alike.” He paused. “You said they were headed there. When did they leave?”

  “Last night. I expect they are there by now, but I haven’t heard from her yet. Are you okay?”

  “Yes. I’m safe for now. Can you let Sabre know?”

  “I’ll do that.”

  “And Bob, please make sure she doesn’t go back to San Diego until this is sorted out.”

  “I’ll do my best. She’s going to want to know where you are.”

  “And she’ll want to come here, but there’s no place for her to stay. I’m living in the woods in Montana. I’ll let you know as soon as I have a safe place for both her and Mom.” Ron paused. “And one other thing. You know that PI friend of yours that Sabre stayed with when that psycho was after her?”

  “JP. What about him?”

  “Is he still around?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you trust him?”

  “With my life.”

  “Good. I need you to hire him for me. I have the money to pay him. The problem is I can’t get it to you right now. I’m sure Sabre or my mom would cover it if something happens to me. Do you think he would work under those conditions?”

  “Maybe. What will I be hiring him to do?”

  “I need him to find out exactly who is after me and what they know. And I need him to check on a woman named Gina Basham in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho.” Ron filled Bob in on a few other details to help JP make his decision.

  “I’ll have to tell him who you are. He needs to know how to protect himself.”

  “I understand. Please check with him and see if he’ll take the case.”

  “He’ll take the case.”

  “I hope so. How soon can you talk to him and make the arrangements?”

  “I need a couple of hours. What if I have JP call you back on this number at 4:00 p.m. our time?”

  “That’s good. Then I’ll provide him with names and addresses and whatever other information he’ll need.”

  Chapter 7

  On Sunday morning Beverly and Edie went to an early mass. Sabre stayed behind. After breakfast she joined her uncle in his workshop, but she was only there a few minutes when she heard a cell phone ring. She glanced around.

  “Aren’t you going to get that?” Gary asked.

  “It’s not mine,” Sabre said.

  “Well it’s in your pocket.”

  “Oh, you’re right.” Sabre had forgotten for a second about the phone Bob had given her. She yanked it out of her pocket and saw the call was coming from Bob. “Hello,” she said. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes. I’m just passing on a message.”

  “From R…?” She hesitated and looked at Gary. Then she started for the door.

  He gave her a thumbs up and said, “You can stay here. I’ll be back. I need to get something from the house.”

  “Thank you,” she mouthed.

  “Can you talk?” Bob asked.

  “I can now. Is it from Ron?”

  “Yes, he wanted you to know he’s safe.”

  “Where is he?”

  “I knew that would be the first thing you would want to know. You are getting too predictable, Sabre. That’s not good.”

  “So where is he?”

  “He’s in Montana and he doesn’t want you to go there. He says he is safe for now, but it’s not an appropriate place for you or for your mother.”

  “Appropriate place? Is he living in a brothel or something?”

  “If he were, then I would go see him. No. He’s living in the woods somewhere.”

  “He wouldn’t say where?”

  “No, but he assured me he is safe. I told him you were in Arizona, but he had already guessed that.”

  “Of course he did. That’s where he would’ve taken our mother. What else did he say?”

  “He asked me to hire JP to go to Idaho and investigate. He wants to know for certain who’s after him. He assumes it’s one of the men he put away, but he has no idea which one. And he wants him to check on some woman named Gina Basham.”

  “Did he say who she is?”

  “No, he said he would explain more if JP agrees to take the case.”

  “Then JP would have to know the whole story.”

  “Ron knows that.”

  Sabre paused for a minute. “I’m concerned for JP, but if he has all the facts and proceeds with an investigation, he’ll be careful. And he’ll understand why I haven’t called him.”

  “JP’s good at what he does.”

  “Can you front the money for his expenses? I don’t want JP putting out the money. I doubt if he’ll take anything for his time, and I’m sure he wouldn’t let me reimburse him.”

  “Of course. Hopefully, he’ll assume the money is coming from Ron.”

  “I’m sorry you’re in the middle of this, Bob, but I sure appreciate it.”

  “It’s a little frightening, but it’s also exciting in a Richard Castle kind of way.”

  “Who’s Richard Castle?”

  “Never mind. I’m just worried about you, Sobs.”

  “I’m fine. I’m already going a little stir crazy, but I expect I won’t be here that long.”

  Bob raised his voice. “You know you can’t come back to San Diego until it’s safe.”

  “Don’t get your drawers in a knot. I know that.” Sabre changed the subject. “We better talk about the cases you need to cover. I hate to dump so much on your already busy caseload, but I looked over my calendar and this week I have seventeen review hearings, three dispositions, and two trials.”

  “And a partridge in a pear tree,” Bob sang. “Who cares? I’m going to be there anyway. And it’s not like you haven’t covered umpteen cases for me.”

  They spent the next fifteen minutes going over Sabre’s cases for juvenile dependency court.

  “That doesn’t sound too bad,” Bob said.

  “There’s one more, the Sophie Barrington case. It’s set for trial and it could get sticky.”

  “What are the allegations?”

  “Molest of an eight-year-old girl.”

  “Who’s the perp?” Bob asked.

  “The social worker thinks it’s the stepfather. Sophie continues to say it wasn’t him and he claims that he was in Oceanside at the time of the alleged molest.”

  “So, why do they think it’s the stepfather?”

&
nbsp; “Because when she was first questioned, Sophie said, ‘He told me to say it was Mark.’ That’s the stepfather’s name. But Sophie couldn’t or wouldn’t ever explain who ‘he’ was.”

  “So, the social worker thinks it was her way of ratting on Mark?”

  “That’s right, and they have a therapist who will back them.”

  “What do you think?” Bob asked.

  “I don’t know. It could very well be him. I just know that Sophie is really afraid of someone.”

  “What is the mother saying?”

  “She can’t believe Mark did anything, but she’s willing to do whatever the department asks her to do in order to protect her child and to get her back in her custody. The stepfather has been very cooperative too. At first he got angry about the accusation and blew up in front of the social worker. Now he’s in anger management classes.”

  “Of course he is. And I’m sure they’re using it as evidence of his guilt. Do they expect a person to not be angry when they are accused of something? Especially something that awful. Maybe he did do it, but I’d be mad as hell if someone accused me of something I didn’t do.”

  “You’re right, but I don’t know what happened and I’m not sure we’re going to figure it out. All I can do is try to protect Sophie so it doesn’t happen again. She has a baby brother who is only a few months old, but they let the mother keep him as long as the father moved out.”

  “Mark’s the baby’s father?”

  “Yes. Oh, and they have a witness, a neighbor who claims he saw Mark return home early that afternoon, shortly after Sophie.”

  “I thought Mark claimed to be in Oceanside.”

  “He did, but he couldn’t corroborate that.”

  “Sophie’s only eight years old. Why was she home alone?”

  “Sophie went to her friend’s house after school. That’s what she does every day. She stays there until her mother gets home from work. That particular day her friend’s grandfather had a heart attack and everyone rushed to the hospital. Sophie kind of got lost in the shuffle and just walked home. It’s only two houses away. Sophie’s mother was furious when she got home and found her there alone.”