[The Advocate 04.0] The Advocate's Dilemma

by Teresa Burrell

  This little game kept her mind occupied for a while, but it didn’t take long before the visions from last night’s dream entered her head. She remembered the hanging, dead bodies; sometimes they had faces, sometimes they didn’t. The numbers of bodies had accelerated from one to dozens. The ages of the men or boys changed, but they were always male and always at the little yellow house. She wondered why the scene wasn’t at the mansion in La Jolla and why her father always came to her rescue. But she was grateful for his presence because for a few minutes each night she saw her father again even though she was filled with fear.

  Sabre watched more people come and go—families with small children dressed in church clothes, couples holding hands, girlfriends sharing time together, and students with laptops who were studying. A few single men came and went, none giving her even a first glance. The arrangement was for the mystery man to approach her. He had seen photos on Facebook and he assured her he would recognize her.

  Sabre was about to get up when a man walked in and held the door open while looking around the room. His eyes stopped on Sabre for just a second, then he continued to span the room. Apparently satisfied that he hadn’t found who he was looking for, he stepped back out and let the door swing closed behind him.

  Forty-five minutes had passed which made him thirty minutes late, enough time to account for traffic or getting lost. Besides, he had her cell number and could have called. Sabre finished the last bit of her coffee and opened the door to the parking lot. Outside, she saw a man exit a dark, pearl-blue F-150 Ford pickup. He looked about forty-five, handsome, and rugged. He wore jeans, a t-shirt, and a belt with a big shiny buckle. Something about him made her feel comfortable. Maybe he was her mystery man. He headed in the direction of the café. Sabre stopped outside the door and waited. He walked up the sidewalk and continued around the corner past Starbucks.

  Late or not, he would have been worth going back in for, Sabre thought. I guess that’s my type.

  Chapter 24

  It was Sunday evening and JP had spent most of the weekend driving the streets of downtown San Diego in search of the 1989 white Acura. So far, he hadn’t had any luck. He had talked to several people who recognized Sammy from the photo his father had been kind enough to give him, but everyone he asked said Sammy hadn’t been around for over a week.

  JP drove up and down the streets from Seaport Village to Little Italy and back through the Gaslamp Quarter, zigzagging across town in what he thought would be the most likely spots for Sammy to hang out. As he drove east on Market he saw a white Acura parked on Eleventh Street. The car was facing the wrong direction on a one-way street. He drove to Twelfth, made a right, then another right, and drove slowly past the car. He could make out enough of the license plate to know it was the correct vehicle, but he didn’t see anyone near it and as far as he could tell there was no one inside. He circled the block and parked in a small lot on the opposite side of the street from Sammy’s car. He sat there for a bit, assessing the situation. Street lamps illuminated the area on each street corner but provided very little light in between. Most of the buildings were dark; some businesses were closed and some had been abandoned. JP couldn’t see any building on this street where someone might be visiting or conducting business. A woman staggered past him down the sidewalk and into the darkness.

  From where he sat, he would be able to see if anyone approached the car. Except for the occasional pedestrian and the infrequent vehicle, the street was deserted. He wondered if Sammy’s car had been deserted as well, but JP was confident the car wasn’t there last night when he canvassed these streets.

  After nearly an hour of surveillance without any action, a tall, thin man fitting Sammy’s description and two males, who appeared to be no more than eighteen years old, approached the Acura. Sammy removed something from his trunk and handed it to one of the boys. JP couldn’t see well enough to know what it was or if they gave him anything in return, but it appeared as if Sammy slipped something into his back pocket. The two boys walked off with an extra bounce in their step, seemingly excited about their transaction.

  JP wanted to bust the guy, but he was no longer a cop and that wasn’t his mission. Right now he had to learn more about him. He wondered if Sammy was going to drive away, in which case JP intended to follow him. Instead, the man retrieved an item from the trunk, stepped toward the building, and leaned against it where he lit up a cigarette or a joint—JP couldn’t tell which—but the way he handled it, his guess was a joint. Sammy slipped into a nearby alcove to finish his smoke, returned to his car and re-opened its trunk, removed a small bag and shoved it into his pocket, and started walking towards Market Street.

  JP exited his car, leaving his cowboy hat behind so as not to draw attention, and began trailing him to Fifth Street and into the Gaslamp Quarter. He dressed differently when he went on a stakeout. He wore a baseball cap instead of his usual Stetson; no shiny belt buckle glistened from his waist; and tennis shoes covered his feet where leather or snake-skinned boots generally lived.

  JP hung back behind Sammy for the first few blocks as there were very few people on the street, but the closer they got to Fifth, the more people there were. Sammy was apparently oblivious to JP’s presence, as he never once looked back. He stopped every once in a while and talked to people in an obvious attempt to sell his wares. Most of them were teenagers, which made JP like this guy less and less.

  On Sammy’s sixth attempt, he exchanged a joint for cash. The two boys didn’t appear to be virgins in this endeavor. Next, he approached a young couple. JP wasn’t close enough to tell just how young they were, but they and Sammy turned around and began walking towards JP. Standing near the entrance to a café as if he were in line to go inside, JP kept his back turned away from them until they passed and he then followed them to Market, where they turned left. JP crossed the street and walked in the same direction on the opposite side of the street. Confident they were headed to Sammy’s car, JP picked up his pace in order to arrive there before Sammy did with his latest customers.

  When he reached the car he positioned himself in the modest alcove where he could watch unseen as they approached. He wondered if Sammy was bringing them to the car to purchase something besides the marijuana or if he only took one joint at a time to sell. That would be the smart thing to do when he was dealing. If he were caught, it could appear to be his own personal stash and he could possibly avoid felony charges. From JP’s experience he knew most criminals weren’t that smart and Sammy didn’t appear to be any exception. Only a few minutes had passed before Sammy and his customers approached the car and Sammy opened the trunk.

  “This is some really good stuff, man. Worth every penny,” Sammy said.

  The young girl said, “I don’t know, Darrin. Maybe we shouldn’t do this.” JP shifted a little to see if he could see them better, but they both had their backs to him.

  “Hey, man,” Sammy said. “You’re gonna love it.”

  “We’ll take it,” the young man said.

  The girl tugged at Darrin’s arm, pulling him around. JP could see their faces and estimated their age to be somewhere between twelve and fourteen. It really angered him that Sammy preyed on such young kids.

  The girl protested again, but between Sammy and Darrin they convinced her. When the couple was once again facing away from him and Sammy turned to take the goods out of the trunk, JP stepped out and with two quick, quiet steps he was standing next to them and almost directly behind Sammy. As Sammy stood up, JP reached his arm around Sammy’s head and grasped him into a choke hold.

  “Oh,” the girl squeaked.

  Darrin started to pull the girl away, but she froze in place.

  “Stay still,” JP ordered. Darrin stopped. He looked so scared JP was afraid he might bolt. “What’s your name?” he asked the girl. When she didn’t answer, he turned to the boy. “What’s her name, Darrin?”

  “How do you know my name?”

  “I know a lot of stuff. Now, wha
t’s her name?” Sammy squirmed and tried to complain. JP squeezed his arm tighter, jamming two fingers into his back emulating a gun.

  “Halle,” Darrin said.

  “Last name?” JP asked.

  Darrin looked at the girl, reluctant to give any more information. “Thomas,” she said in almost a whisper.

  “How old are you?” JP asked, looking directly at Halle.

  Sammy said, “Don’t say….” JP squeezed tighter and jammed him harder in the back. When he stopped trying to talk, JP let up a little. He didn’t want to choke the guy, just hold on to him.

  “Thirteen,” she said.

  “What are you two doing downtown?”

  “We went to a movie,” Halle said, still quietly.

  “We were just going to get something to eat and then go back to the mall,” Darrin added. “Halle’s mom is picking us up there in about an hour.”

  “And you thought you would stop and get some drugs along the way?”

  “No, it wasn’t like that,” Darrin protested. “We didn’t plan to get anything. We don’t use drugs.”

  JP surmised by their tasteful, age-appropriate clothes, their trim haircuts, and their demeanor that he was likely telling the truth. If they were users, they weren’t very experienced at it. “And let me guess, when this fool offered you drugs, you thought you would be ‘cool’ and impress your girlfriend?”

  Darrin didn’t respond, but the look of consternation said it all.

  JP turned to Halle, “Are you impressed?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head and fighting back tears.

  “See that, kid? She’s not impressed. It looks to me like she’s just plain scared. I think you best take another tack. What kind of grades do you get in school?”

  “All A’s,” Darrin said, with more shame in his voice than pride.

  “For a smart kid, you sure are dumb. A two-eyed dirt clod would have more sense. Don’t you know how dangerous this is? You have no idea what’s in this crap he’s selling. And do you really want to go to jail over something this stupid?”

  Darrin shook his head.

  “Listen to me, son, and you too,” he said, turning to Halle who had tears running down her face. “I’m going to let you go but I’ll be watching you both. If I ever see or hear of you using drugs again I’ll hunt you down and beat some sense into you myself. You understand?”

  They both nodded their heads.

  “Now, get out of here!”

  They turned and started off and JP thought he heard a “thank you.”

  “And go straight to where you’re meeting your ride,” he called after them. He watched as they picked up speed and started to run toward Market Street.

  He turned his attention to Sammy. “What the hell are you doing selling drugs to babies? What kind of low life are you?”

  “Times are tough, man. I need to make a living.”

  JP did all he could to keep from slamming him against the car. Instead he said, “How would you like to spend the night in jail?”

  “You’re not a cop,” Sammy said, with a cocky air.

  “You’re right. I’m not, but I have plenty of connections. Right now all I want from you are some answers. First, close the trunk and give me your keys.” Sammy followed the directions. JP dropped the keys in his pocket. He released the chokehold on Sammy and turned him around where he could see his face, keeping a good grip on his skinny arm. “If you answer my questions truthfully, I won’t call my buddies.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Do you know a guy named George Foreman?”

  “Yeah, he’s a friend of mine. So?” Sammy shuffled his feet.

  “So, he’s dead.” JP watched his face for surprise or concern. He saw neither.

  “Yeah, I heard that on the street.” Though his face didn’t say much, his body language did. Sammy continued to move around nervously shifting his head from side to side, making every effort to not look at JP.

  “When did you last see him?”

  “It’s been a week or so. He wasn’t around so much after they picked up his kids.”

  “What can you tell me about how he died?” JP asked.

  “I just heard someone killed him. That’s all I know.”

  “You knew him better than anyone. Who would want him dead?”

  Sammy turned his head to the side. “Lots of people, I suppose. His in-laws for starters. They hated him. And his wife, Dana.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “She was tired of the way he treated her.”

  “She didn’t like you much, did she?”

  Sammy’s head riveted back toward JP and he looked him in the eye. “Are you kidding me? She wanted me. I told her no way, I wouldn’t do that to my friend. But she kept flirting with me anyway. George didn’t like it. He was pretty jealous but he knew I wouldn’t ever do that to him.”

  “Yeah, you’re a real stand-up guy,” JP said sarcastically. “Who else might want to kill George?”

  “He made a lot of enemies. He was always pulling scams and sometimes he got caught in them. Some big guy beat him up about two weeks ago. He almost killed George then.”

  “Did you see the guy?”

  “Yeah. He was about six-foot-four or so, dark hair, probably weighed about 250. He didn’t look real muscular, but he was solid, not flabby looking. He was wearing a suit when I saw him.”

  “Facial hair? Tattoos? Scars or anything distinguishing?” JP shook his arm slightly when he didn’t respond right away.

  “No. He was clean-shaven and I didn’t see any tattoos. Nothing unusual except he wore a suit.”

  “How old would you estimate he was?”

  “About forty, maybe.”

  “Did you see his car?”

  “He drove a new, black Mercedes.”

  “Do you know what year? License plate? Anything?”

  “It was brand new. There were no license plates. It still had the registration thingy in the window.”

  JP continued to question him but he wasn’t forthcoming with the rest of his answers. Before JP let go of his arm he admonished him once again about selling drugs to kids and walked away, clicking the button on Sammy’s key chain to make sure all the doors were locked.

  “Hey, I need my keys,” Sammy yelled after him.

  “Then you should’ve been straight with me.”

  JP walked back to his car and stepped inside, but before he drove off, he called his friend in vice.

  Chapter 25

  Juvenile court was relatively quiet even for a Monday morning. The busiest days were generally Tuesday and Wednesday since that’s when the detention hearings were heard for the weekend roundup of dependency and delinquency cases. On the weekends, more kids caused trouble and more abuse occurred, and since the department had a seventy-two-hour window in which to file the petitions, mid-week received the majority of action.

  Sabre sat with Bob outside of Department Four waiting for their cases to be heard.

  “How was your blind date yesterday?” Bob asked.

  “I give up. I’m going to join a convent.”

  “He was that bad, huh?”

  “Worse than that. He never even showed, or he came in, took one look at me, and left.”

  Bob reached his arm around her shoulder and gave it a little squeeze. “I’m sorry, snookums. What a fool! He doesn’t know what he missed.”

  “Oh well. I was leery of the whole thing anyway.”

  At the far end of the hallway Sabre spotted Dana huddled with her mother, Frank Davis, and a man in a suit who she recognized as Dave Carr, a well-respected defense attorney. She assumed he was Dana’s new attorney. She changed the subject. “How did Dana take it when you told her you had to conflict off?”

  “Leahy called her for me. He thought it was best if I didn’t have any contact with her. He said she seemed a little upset, primarily because she had to explain everything again. And that doesn’t make a lot of sense because….”
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br />   Sabre interrupted him. “None of what she has done makes sense. She’s up to something, or else why would she lie about your having an affair with her?”

  “But do you think she killed him and is trying to set me up? Or is she just running a scam so she can sue me?”

  “I don’t know, but either way she’s dangerous.”

  Bob looked down the hallway toward his client. “Who’s the new guy? Do you know him?”

  “That’s Dave Carr. I had a case with him once before. He did a good job. He does a lot of criminal work and has a good reputation downtown. Besides, he once told me I had the best looking legs in the courtroom.”

  Bob cocked his head to one side. “You gotta love a guy who’ll come on to you during a case.”

  “No. It was a joke. I was the only female in the room under two hundred pounds. The case was filed because the family was obese. The youngest girl was only six and already weighed over two hundred and fifty pounds. The older girls were even heavier. Mom came into court in a scooter and the dad was too heavy to even get out of bed.”

  “I remember that case. That woman was huge. It was right around Thanksgiving, right?”

  “Right. The kids hated foster care and were afraid they wouldn’t be home for Christmas. And at home they weren’t teased about their weight.”

  “So, how did it resolve?”

  “We settled it with a ‘dirty-home’ charge.” Sabre wrinkled her nose. “The house was really nasty. It smelled horrible and was so cluttered you couldn’t walk safely through any room. Mr. Carr made sure the family had the resources they needed to clean it up. He obtained in-home counseling for them and the medical attention they needed. And the social worker agreed to make regular visits and to monitor them until they were able to function on their own. Three days before Christmas, Carr had everything in place and the kids were returned with a voluntary agreement.”

  Sabre was so engrossed in her story she didn’t see the attorney approach.

  “Counselor, may I have a word with you?”

  “Oh, hi, Dave. Sure.” She stood up. “By the way, this is Bob Clark,” she said, looking at Bob. “Bob, Dave Carr.” They shook hands.