“It’s no bother. I was just watching a movie in my room.”
Riley started down the steps. “Here he is now,” Sabre said.
Celia pointed to an area just off the living room. “You can meet in the sunroom if that’s okay.”
“That would be perfect, and you can get back to your movie. I’ll only be a minute and Riley can see us out.” Sabre had a feeling Celia was anxious to get back to her nightcap. She made a mental note that she’d have to look into her drinking. She was starting to see a pattern that may have to be addressed, but for now she still felt this was the best placement for the boys.
Celia walked away as Riley led Sabre to the sunroom. “Did you finish your paper on The Battle of Okinawa?”
“Almost. I’m working on the conclusion.”
Sabre continued to talk about the paper as she stalled for time. She didn’t know how long it would take JP and she didn’t have many questions to ask about the case. She also knew she would receive short answers, so the longer she could talk about Okinawa the more time she could give JP.
***
Upstairs, JP dropped the video game in Marcus’ room while Riley descended the steps and then JP went into Riley’s room. He picked up the sketchpad lying on the bed and opened it up. It only had four pages filled, and the last one was from yesterday. It contained a drawing of the tarantula JP had seen at school in the biology lab, a soccer player, and a teenage girl with a sad, painful look on her face. All the drawings appeared to be about school activities and perhaps Riley had a love interest. The very last entry was a car smashed into a tree with two bodies on the ground. JP wondered if Riley had witnessed a car accident.
JP looked around the room for more sketchbooks. There was nothing on the shelves or on the desk. He opened the top two drawers on the side of the desk. The third one, a larger drawer built to hold file folders, was locked. JP looked around the desk for a key, trying to be careful to not change the placement of the papers and things on his desk. It wasn’t there. He pulled open the middle drawer directly under the computer. It contained pens and numerous other writing tools, but there was no key. He feared Riley had the key on him. He thought about trying to pick the lock, but even if he was successful he would have to re-lock it so Riley wouldn’t know someone had been in the drawer.
He walked with swift feet to Riley’s dresser. Nothing sat on the top of it. He opened the drawers and glanced quickly through them. He saw nothing but clothes, and there weren’t many of those. As he walked back to the desk, he spotted a lanyard on the floor near the chair. It had three keys on it. One looked like a house key. He tried the second one in the drawer, but it didn’t work. The third key opened the drawer.
The drawer held four sketchpads. He took them out and laid them on the desk. The first one he picked up had dates from over a year ago. The second one ended about a week ago. Bingo! That’s the one he needed. He took out his iPhone and snapped pictures of each page, moving quickly through the pad without really looking at the drawings, but occasionally checking the dates. Suddenly, one drawing caught his eye. He gasped.
“Oh, no,” he said under his breath. He paused for a second and then started clicking again. He was about two weeks beyond when Foreman had been killed when he heard some male voices downstairs. Marcus and Frank were home and JP expected Marcus upstairs any minute. JP clicked a few more times and then shoved the phone into his pocket and closed up the sketchpad. He returned the pads to their original order and placed them in the drawer. He heard Marcus running up the stairs. He locked the drawer, dropped the lanyard on the floor where he found it, and walked to the door. Peeking out, he saw no one in the hallway. He stepped out and closed the door behind him just as Marcus dashed out of the bathroom.
“Hi, Marcus, did you see what I brought you?”
“No, what?” he asked, grinning from ear to ear. He was so easily excitable, JP was glad he brought the game.
“I put it in your room.” Marcus dashed into his room followed by JP. He immediately spotted the game sitting on his bed.
“Wow, Black Ops. This is such a cool game.”
“I’m glad you like it. I don’t have time tonight, but maybe we can play it together sometime.”
Marcus darted to his computer, placed the video in the drive, and started it up. He was focused. JP patted him on the shoulder, left the room, and walked downstairs. Frank greeted him as he started toward the sunroom.
“Good evening, Frank.”
Sabre appeared with Riley, who had a somewhat quizzical look on his face when he saw Frank. “Is your homework done?” Frank asked.
“Almost,” Riley said. He then told Frank goodnight and bounded up the steps two at a time.
JP stared down at Sabre’s foot and she rolled her eyes. She wasn’t limping. Frank was standing where he wouldn’t have seen her walk yet. She just hoped Riley hadn’t noticed. Frank turned around and noticed her walk.
“What happened?”
“Just a little sprain,” Sabre said. “We’ll get out of your way here. Sorry about the intrusion,” Sabre said.
“It’s no problem,” Frank said. “We’re getting used to it. There are social workers and such coming and going all the time here. We’ve been told it’ll settle down eventually.”
Once inside the car, Sabre took a deep breath. “I almost blew it. Sorry.”
“You were fine.” JP handed her the phone. “But you’re not going to like what you see. Look at the drawing on the date Foreman was killed.”
Sabre clicked on the photos. When she reached that drawing, her hand flew up to her mouth. “Oh, my God!”
Chapter 51
Sabre’s desk was covered with copies of the drawings that JP had taken of Riley’s sketchpad. Sabre held the one from the day that Foreman’s body was found. It was a detailed drawing of the murder weapon.
“That’s my brother’s hourglass. It has the same exact Victorian design. Riley has never been in my office and that’s the only way he could have known what it looked like.” She looked up at JP who stood across the desk from her. “Has there been anything released in the media? A picture of it perhaps?”
“The type of weapon wasn’t ever mentioned. Detective Nelson and I were just talking about that yesterday. And this hourglass drawing can’t be a coincidence.”
Sabre clutched the picture to her chest. “Do you think Riley killed his father?” she said in a quiet, strangely calm voice.
“He could’ve sneaked out that night. He does know the alarm codes,” JP said.
“But how did he get to my office?”
JP pointed to a drawing on the desk of a 1989 Acura. “Do you know what kind of car that is?”
“No, but I can barely tell a VW Beetle from a Cadillac.”
“It’s Sammy’s car. Do you remember that Riley told me he didn’t know what kind of car Sammy drove? Well, he knew it well enough to draw it.”
“His grandma told me there isn’t a car on the road that Riley doesn’t know,” Sabre said.
“So, he lied to me about that. Why do you suppose he did that?” But before Sabre could answer, JP added, “Because he had something to hide. He didn’t want us to know that he was in Sammy’s car the night his father was killed.”
“But Sammy couldn’t have driven him. He was at the police station all night.”
“So someone else drove Sammy’s car. There must’ve been something Sammy wanted from Riley and he made a deal with him. When he couldn’t leave the police station, he sent someone else.”
“Like who?”
“I haven’t figured that out yet. Maybe it’s in the drawings. What is the date on the drawing of the car?”
“It was six days before the murder.”
“So whatever was going on must have started at least by then.” JP came around the desk and stood next to Sabre. His arm touched hers as he leaned forward. Sabre looked up at him, her face inches away from his. She felt his breath on her face and it made her uneasy. She turned quickly a
way.
“Look at the sketches just before and just after Foreman’s death,” she said. “We have a woman crying and although her mouth and nose are covered by her hands, she sure looks like Riley’s mother. Look at her eyes, her hair, and her body. Her shirt is torn and hanging off her shoulder. The next one is a street scene with homeless people and bottles of alcohol and drug paraphernalia everywhere. Both of the drawings are dark, even sinister.”
JP picked up a third drawing. “But look at this one. It’s James Bond surrounded by all kinds of spy gadgets and he’s smiling and cheerful. In the background is the 1989 Acura with 007 across the side.”
“Do you think it means something or did he just see a James Bond movie that day and decide to draw it?” Sabre asked.
“And put Sammy’s car in the background?”
“The next picture is the hourglass, all by itself except for its shadow. And that’s followed by one that looks like hell.”
“Why?” JP leaned over her shoulder to get a better look at the drawing. “What’s wrong with it?”
“No, I mean it looks like a picture of hell with flames and demons.”
JP pointed to two figures, one taller than the other, enveloped by flames. “Who do you suppose they are?”
“I’m afraid to guess,” Sabre said. “And after that, on a Sunday, is a family sitting at the dining room table. It looks like Frank’s dining room and there are two boys, a man, and a woman eating dinner. On Monday he drew his biology lab, and on Tuesday there is no drawing.” Sabre picked up the next picture slowly. She felt a shiver through her body as she looked at the young boy hanging from a rope. “This is Wednesday, the day Marcus tried to kill himself.” She laid the picture down. “Grandma was right. It’s like reading a diary. He’s drawing all the things that had an effect on him that day.”
JP pointed to the next three. They were all drawings of Frank’s house with a man, a woman, and one boy in them. “These only have one boy which makes sense because Marcus was in the hospital.”
Four more dates were missing and then there were two drawings of school activities. She set those aside. “This one is Foreman in a coffin, but his bruised face and cuts aren’t covered with makeup. That’s interesting because that’s not how Foreman looked in the coffin. Why would he not have the makeup on him?” Sabre said. “The people behind the coffin all have their backs to it. That makes a curious statement.”
“I guess that’s his way of saying no one cared about his father.”
The last picture was in the sunroom at Frank’s house with a teenage boy and two women, one with gray hair. They were all smiling.
JP stood there in silence studying the progression of the drawings, occasionally picking up one to examine it more closely.
“What does it all mean?” she asked.
JP shook his head. “I don’t know, but we’re going to figure it out.”
“It’s not going to matter much if Riley is the one who killed his father. I won’t be able to do anything with that information.” Sabre threw her hands in the air, expressing her frustration. “That would be the ultimate betrayal. My job is to protect my minor client. How would I be protecting him if I help send him to prison?”
“Sabre, I know you, and I know you can’t let Bob take the blame.”
Sabre’s hand shook as she picked up another picture. JP reached for her hand, took the drawing, and laid it down. Then he put his arm around her and pulled her into his arms, giving her a strong, safe hug. She laid her head against his shoulder for just a few seconds. She wanted to stay there forever in his safe, loving arms. For one moment in time the rest of the world didn’t matter. But it did matter. Reality mattered and she alone could make it right. Hiding in the security blanket JP wrapped her in didn’t change anything and that, too, would fade away. It always did. Sabre gave him a quick squeeze and pulled away.
“Okay, let’s figure this out,” Sabre said. “Then we’ll find a way to make it right. We have to.”
They lined the pictures up in order of date again. JP picked up the one of Riley’s mother crying. “Here’s what I think. Dana is upset and Riley wants to find out why. Or maybe his father hurt his mom and that’s why his mother is crying. Either way it makes Riley angry and so he made some deal with Sammy to take him to see his father or at least use his car. Riley followed his dad to your office. Why Foreman went there, we don’t know, but Riley and his father have a confrontation and Riley picks up the hourglass and hits his father over the head.”
“He may have been protecting himself,” Sabre said. “It could be self defense. Or whoever was driving Sammy’s car may have killed him.”
“That’s true, but Riley ended up with the hourglass because there is no way he could’ve put that kind of detail in the drawing if he didn’t have it for an extended length of time.”
“So, either Riley killed him or he certainly knows who did. And who would he protect besides his mother?”
“Which leads us back to Dana.”
Chapter 52
Sabre sat on her sofa with Riley’s drawings spread out on the coffee table. The grandfather clock chimed four times. She had slept restlessly for about four hours. When she had another nightmare, she got up and went downstairs. Only this time it wasn’t her usual dream. In fact, she hadn’t had that one since she returned from the visit with her mother.
This time she dreamed of the objects in Riley’s drawings. Something about them nagged at her, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She still agreed with the scenario she and JP had figured out earlier and she was pleased that it led back to Dana, leaving Riley with a possible out, but she felt like there was more. She picked up the drawings for the two weeks prior to Foreman’s death and dissected each drawing several times. She was missing something.
She laid that bunch down and picked up the rest of them. The drawings with the family were like Rockwell’s—a clean, bright, happy family together—but the others were dark, disturbing ones, like the one with Marcus hanging from the rope. She studied it, even though it made her stomach hurt. Something was wrong. She went through the drawings again and again. Just as the clock chimed five times, Sabre screamed, “Oh, no!” She laid the pictures out again, picking up the family pictures to inspect each one carefully.
She jumped up, picked up her phone, and called JP.
“Good morning, kid,” he said.
“I think Riley tried to kill Marcus,” Sabre said frantically.
“Calm down. Why do you think that?”
“Because Riley drew that sketch before Marcus hanged himself. Look at the pictures.”
“Okay. I have them in front of me,” JP said. “But it is dated the same day as the attempted suicide.”
“But when would he have drawn it? He went to the hospital with Frank and Celia. He was there a good part of the night. But more importantly, look at what Marcus is wearing. You know how anal Riley is about details. He would have drawn him in the clothes he was wearing, but he didn’t. He drew him in Alvarado Hospital issue, the way Marcus was dressed the last time Riley saw him before he drew the picture.”
“Maybe.”
“And another thing. Marcus is never in another family picture. It makes sense that he’s not there while he was in the hospital, but Riley never puts him back into the drawings.”
“So, what do we do next, boss?”
“I’m going to see Riley.”
“Not alone, you’re not.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Sabre, don’t argue with me,” he said in his sternest voice. “I’m going with you. He’s only fourteen, but he may have already killed one person and tried to kill another.”
“Okay. I’ll meet you at the school around 7:00. We can catch him just before he goes into class. Then I can go the courthouse and you can go on your way.”
***
Riley was a little annoyed at being questioned again. He protested that he would be late for class. Sabre assured him she’d be quick, altho
ugh she was still uncertain as to exactly what she was going to say. Sabre had made arrangements with the office to use an empty classroom so they could have some privacy. She sat down at a student table across from Riley. JP remained standing and positioned himself at the end of the table between them.
“Look, Riley, I’m your attorney and I’m on your side, but some things have come to light and I need some answers so I can best represent you.”
“Like what?”
“I know who killed your father.” She looked him directly in the eyes. “And so do you. Do you want to tell me about it?”
“No,” Riley said.
“I also know about Marcus.” Riley didn’t respond. “Do you hate your brother?”
“He does nothing but cause trouble. Always has.”
“Enough that you wanted him dead?”
“Even if I did, you can’t tell anyone,” Riley said in an arrogant tone, one Sabre had never heard him use before.
“What you tell me is confidential,” Sabre said. JP swallowed and shuffled his feet.
“I didn’t murder my father. I promise you that.” Riley’s voice was quiet and sad. “But If I did kill George, he deserved it. He was always hurting my mother. He would’ve killed her if someone hadn’t killed him first.” His eyes narrowed and a threatening look came over his face. “No one hurts my mother and gets away with it.”
“Riley, did you hang Marcus?”
“No. He did that himself.”
“Did you encourage him?”
“He does whatever I tell him to do. He’s such a baby.”
“You need help, Riley. Let me take you somewhere where you can get help.”
“No. I know what I need. I need my mother to come home and live with me. You can do that. You can bring her home. Tell the court to send her home. Just my mom and grandma and me. That’s all I need. It won’t be long now.”
[The Advocate 04.0] The Advocate's Dilemma Page 25