The Advocate - 03 - The Advocate's Conviction

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The Advocate - 03 - The Advocate's Conviction Page 13

by Teresa Burrell


  Roberto’s daughter was now about nine years old, making him even more apt to help Sabre find Bailey. She knew he’d be reasonable to work with and would help her as long as it didn’t conflict with his client’s interest. She’d talk to Roberto after the hearing and hopefully Apollo’s parents as well.

  The hearing lasted about twenty-five minutes, which was rather long for a detention hearing. Sabre became bored and then anxious while she waited. Finally, Roberto came out with the parents. Sabre approached him immediately.

  “I’d like to speak to you and Apollo’s parents if you can give me a minute.”

  Roberto smiled. “What’s up, Sabre?”

  “I represent a minor in a dependency case. Her name is Bailey. She’s purported to be Apollo’s girlfriend and has been absent from her foster home for over a week. We know she was with Apollo the majority of that time.” Sabre turned her head from Roberto to the parents. “Do you know Bailey?”

  The father looked at Roberto who nodded and said, “You can tell her anything you know about Bailey.”

  The father said, “We knew he had a girlfriend, but we never met her. Other than her name, we didn’t really know much.”

  Sabre looked at Apollo’s mother. She was a tall, big-boned woman but not overweight. She wore no make-up except for a little mascara. Her chiseled nose matched the rest of her perfect features. Sabre couldn’t help but think how attractive she was. In the right clothes and the right setting, she could compete with the best of them. But today she looked frightened and vulnerable. She fought back tears when she spoke. “I never met her, either. Apollo is such a good boy. He’s never been in trouble and until this last week, he never missed school. Even then, when he was running with her, he called every day to let us know he was all right. I know he didn’t kill that man.” Mr. Servantes put his arm around his wife and they stepped off to the side.

  Roberto said, “I don’t think they know anything about her. Let me talk to them a few minutes and then you and I can talk.”

  Sabre walked outside into a crowd of people and waited against the wall while Roberto finished his conversation with Apollo’s parents. She took out her cell phone and checked the time. She still had another hour before her appointment with JP at her office.

  A few minutes later Roberto walked out with the couple, shielding Mrs. Servantes in the middle. The reporter Sabre had seen earlier was waiting and in their face before the door closed behind them. She heard Roberto advise them. “Don’t say anything. Just keep walking.”

  The reporter held the microphone up in front of the father and asked, “Did your son kill Scott Jamison?”

  The father didn’t respond. Roberto pushed his way ahead and escorted the parents to their car. The cameraman and reporter followed, still filming and asking questions.

  When Roberto returned, the crowd had dispersed. “Why is the press interested in this case?” Sabre asked.

  “I’m not sure exactly. Hopefully, I’ll be able to find out from my client.”

  “I met with Apollo yesterday in the Hall. I explained to him that I was only there about Bailey. I advised him not to talk about anything else and he didn’t, but I wanted you to know that.”

  “I take it you didn’t get any information about Bailey’s whereabouts.”

  “That’s right, but I’d like to try again, if you don’t mind.”

  “I’ll be glad to help in any way. Let me talk to Apollo and make sure it’s not going to hurt his case and if not, we’ll set up a meeting for the three of us as soon as possible. Will this afternoon work for you?”

  “Absolutely. I’m here for an adoption hearing anyway. Just let me know what time and I’ll work around it. Thanks, Roberto, you’re a sweetheart.”

  “That’s me, a real sweetheart.” He winked at her. Then, in a serious tone, he said, “I know you’d do the same if I had a minor on the streets. I don’t want her there, either.”

  The mirror in Sabre’s office bathroom reflected back at Sabre as she fluffed her hair and checked her make-up. She walked back into her office and sat behind her desk. JP would be there any minute. She picked up the ritual abuse spreadsheet and glanced through the columns. When she looked up, she saw a handsome cowboy standing in her doorway holding some papers.

  “Hey, kid.” The sound of his voice made her feel safe. During the last year, he had always been there to protect her when she most needed him.

  “Good morning. It is still morning, isn’t it?”

  “The roosters hollered nearly seven hours ago. Seems like evening to me.”

  Sabre laughed. “Well, good evening to you, JP.”

  He approached her desk and handed her a copy of the spreadsheet. “I’ve added another case to this list—the Lecy case.”

  Sabre’s mouth dropped open. “What?”

  “Shellie said Bailey is afraid of the ‘devil worshippers.’”

  “What the hell?”

  JP reported on his visit with Shellie and her friend.

  “That explains the media coverage.” JP wrinkled his brow. “There was a reporter and a cameraman at court this morning. They tried to question Apollo’s parents. I bet it’s because of the satanic angle. Why else would they be interested? There wasn’t anything that newsworthy about the murder. Nothing unusual anyway.”

  “I’ll bet you’re right. There’s been a lot of buzz since the ‘Devil House’ was discovered.”

  “Have you heard anything new on the ‘House?’”

  “Not a word.” JP said. “By the way, I left my card and your cell phone number with Shellie and encouraged her to convince Bailey to call you. I also told her to tell Bailey that you were in contact with Apollo. I thought it might be enough to get her to call.”

  “Thanks, that was a good idea. I hope it works.”

  Sabre read the spreadsheet, noticing where JP had very neatly handwritten the name Lecy in the first column. In the column titled Indicators he had written Fear of Devil Worshipperse. Neighborhood, Age, and Ethnicity were completed. Sabre filled in the spaces for the social worker and the attorneys. “What does this mean?” Sabre asked, expecting an opinion rather than a real answer.

  “I don’t know. I’ve run the demographics for the Neighborhood column. They seem to cluster around two areas, Tierra Santa and Downtown, but not entirely because then you have your Johnson case in Vista, thirty plus miles north and one case about the same distance to the east. I’ve tried looking for a pattern, but I can’t come up with anything that seems to matter.” JP handed Sabre a map. “I’ve marked the map where we have strange cases. The black numbers indicate the order in which they came into the juvenile system.”

  “What’s this?” Sabre asked as she pointed to a large red X on the map.

  “That’s the ‘Devil House’ that was on the news.” JP moved his finger around the map pointing to other red marks. “And these are all places that have been reported by agencies outside of juvey—police reports on taggers mostly. Just something different to graffiti.”

  “They’re all over the map.”

  “I know. I really don’t think they have anything to do with our cases. I think it’s just teenagers jumping on the band wagon—wannabes with too much time on their hands.” JP handed her another map. “Here’s a map without the graffiti. I left the ‘Devil House’ on there.”

  Sabre started to stand up. “I’ll make copies.”

  JP touched her arm. “Sit, kid. Those are your copies. I have mine.”

  Sabre felt a sweet tingle from his touch, and it made her uncomfortable. She wasn’t sure why. She shook it off. “Thanks. What other good news do you have for me today?”

  JP told her what he had found out about Cole’s father and his latest uneventful search for Cole. Sabre knew JP searched the neighborhood a couple of times a day even though he didn’t bill her for it. Sabre had been doing the same thing. After court this morning, Sabre had driven around the park and past Cole and Hayden’s foster homes before she returned to the office to
meet with JP.

  JP continued, “We haven’t had any sightings of Cole since Tuesday night. That’s over forty-eight hours.”

  Sabre saw the tension in JP’s face, how his forehead wrinkled, and she was certain she spotted a little extra gray at his temples. She knew what he was feeling. She felt it, too—the helplessness, the concern, the fear of what Cole might be going through.

  24

  Friday afternoons at juvenile court were different than any of the other days. The courthouse was filled with families wearing smiling faces, little boys and girls dressed in pretty clothes, and there were far fewer attorneys walking the halls. The adoption calendar brought in a different class of client. Parents and children were anxious to finalize a process that had often taken years to achieve, especially the cases that had commenced in the dependency court.

  When a child was removed from a parent, the parent had six months to reunify. If they were close to reunification they were given another six months. If by the end of the twelfth month they still had not made enough progress toward reunification, a .26 hearing was held and parental rights could be terminated. If the rights were removed, the Department of Social Services worked diligently to try and find an adoptive home for the child. Often the minor was already placed with foster parents or relatives who wanted to adopt. The process generally took several years and if a home wasn’t found, the child remained a legal orphan.

  Whenever Sabre had a Friday afternoon trial and she had some downtime, she’d slip into Department One where Judge Shirkoff was handling the adoption calendar and watch the happy people as they legally committed to their new families. It helped her balance all the pain and suffering she saw the rest of the time.

  Sabre ducked under a bunch of bright pink balloons and stepped around a family of about twenty, all dressed in church clothes, as she worked her way toward the courtroom. Once inside she took a seat at the back of the room. She had prearranged a visit with Roberto and Apollo. As soon as Roberto finished his court calendar, he would text her and they’d walk through the tunnel to the hall and meet with his client.

  In the meantime, she would be present in court for Addison, a seven-year-old girl who was once her client. She hadn’t represented her since the .26 hearing when the parents’ rights were terminated. Back then her name was Tiffany, but her name would be legally changed when she was adopted. Her new parents let Tiffany chose her own name and for the past six months she went by Addison.

  Sabre had come to be quite close to Addison over the past two-and-a-half years. As she watched her move from foster home to foster home, therapist to therapist, Sabre seemed to be the only constant in her life. When Addison was finally matched with an older couple interested in adoption, Sabre had to let go. She remembered how difficult that was for her. Of all the children she worked with, she had become the most attached to Addison. Bob had even encouraged her to adopt Addison herself, but Sabre knew she couldn’t give her the attention she needed.

  Now, Addison walked into the courtroom wearing a pale green dress with life-size pink lilies scattered throughout the fabric, a pink ribbon in her soft brown curls, pink anklets, and shiny white, patent-leather ballet flats. She seemed calm and almost angelic, quite different from the hyper little girl she had first met. She was no angel, but Sabre was confident her new parents were a good fit for her. When Addison spotted Sabre, a huge smile crossed her face, her eyes opened wide, she held her head up tall, and said aloud across the room, “I’m getting adopted today!”

  “Indeed you are,” Sabre responded. The judge, the bailiff, and the court clerk all smiled as they watched this seven-year-old girl walk up to the table and take part in one of the most significant events in her life.

  Sabre felt herself choke up as she watched the adoption proceedings. Addison had a family. Today, at seven years, three months, and four days old, Addison Sabre McLaughlin started a new life with the new name that she had chosen.

  Sabre missed her own family. She missed her brother and her father. Most of her aunts, uncles, and cousins were too far away. She had a decent, yet somewhat strained relationship with her mother. They were never as close as she had been with her father or her brother. Her mother lived about an hour from her and she hadn’t seen her in almost two months. Her mother had a busy social life. She had lots of friends, played bridge twice a week, and was always involved in charitable work. But still, she knew her mother enjoyed her visits. Sabre made a mental note to visit her mother as soon as things settled down on these cases.

  Right now, she needed to find her missing clients.

  Sabre lingered in the courtroom after Addison’s hearing, watching some of the other adoption proceedings and waiting for a text from Roberto. The sound on her phone was shut off but she felt the vibration in her hand when it dinged. Meet me by the info counter. Sabre stood up and quietly left the courtroom. Gillian, the social worker on Bailey’s case was going into Department One just as Sabre was leaving.

  “Any word from Bailey?” Gillian asked.

  “Not a word,” Sabre said and walked on.

  Roberto greeted her with a smile and a hug. “How’s the silverback?” Sabre asked. It was a nickname she had for him. She tried to remember when it started or where it came from, but she couldn’t.

  “Couldn’t be better,” he said. “I talked to Apollo and he’s willing to meet with you again. He wants you to send a very specific message to Bailey and he implied the message will in turn get her to contact you. I’m not sure exactly what that means, but it’s something.”

  “Whatever it takes. I think I can get Shellie to pass on a message to her but I don’t know how long it’ll take.”

  “According to Apollo, Shellie will get the message to her quickly.”

  Sabre felt a little better. At least there was a chance at reaching her client.

  “You ready?” Roberto asked.

  “Let’s go.”

  “By the way, just so you know, Apollo claims neither he nor Bailey killed Scott.”

  “Do you believe him?” Sabre asked.

  Roberto tilted his head to one side. “It doesn’t matter if I do or don’t.”

  They walked toward the door leading to the back room and the tunnel to the Hall, but before they reached the door Barry Betts approached Roberto. “Hi, Barry,” Roberto said.

  “Hello,” Betts said. He turned to Sabre and nodded, “Counselor.” Betts handed Roberto a piece of paper.

  “What’s this?” Roberto asked before he looked at it.

  “I’ve been retained to represent Apollo Servantes.” His head nodded up and down on his long neck and the last word in each sentence raised an octave. “You’re no longer on the case.”

  Sabre said, “We were just going to see him. He’s going to help me find a missing minor in a dependency case.”

  Betts shook his head from side to side. “No. No. You can’t do that.”

  “Will you please talk to him and see if he’s willing to help us?”

  “Already have. I’m afraid I had to advise him not to talk to anyone.”

  Sabre started to speak, but Betts kept shaking his head. “No. No. Sorry. I have to protect my client.”

  Roberto handed the court order back to Betts and he walked off. “That guy’s weird. Ever notice how his head bobs around and the whole time his eyes don’t move—like they’re not connected or something?”

  Sabre chuckled in spite of her frustration. “Dang. Now I’m back to square one.”

  They turned and walked back up the tunnel toward the courtroom.

  “At least you know that Shellie has more information than she’s giving.”

  “That’s true. I’ll put JP right on it.” Sabre reached her hand out and touched Roberto on the arm. “Thanks for trying, Silverback.”

  He winked at her. “Anytime, Sabre.”

  They exited the tunnel door and stepped into the hallway of the courthouse. Sabre turned to leave and then turned back, “Oh, so what’s the message?”
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br />   Roberto opened his file, took out a legal pad, tore off the top sheet, and handed it to Sabre. She read it aloud. Show the second one to someone you can trust. Keep the third one hidden.

  25

  Sabre reached for her feather pillow, fluffed it, and laid her head down. More tired than usual, she closed her eyes and started to drift off to sleep. Her cell phone rang. At first she thought she was dreaming. She turned over in her bed and looked at the pyramid-shaped clock on her nightstand. She tapped the point of the pyramid and a robotic voice said, “Eleven-fifty-two p.m.” She had been in bed less than twenty minutes.

  Sabre stepped out of bed and took the three steps to the counter where her phone was plugged in. By the time she reached her cell it had already rung three times. The number was blocked.

  “Hello.” For a couple of seconds no one responded. Sabre pulled the phone back from her ear, checking to see if she had missed the call. She was still connected. “Hello,” she repeated.

  “Hello,” the young voice was tentative. “Is this Sabre Brown?”

  “Yes. Who’s this?”

  “Bailey.”

  “Bailey!” Sabre said. “I’m so glad you called. Are you okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where are you?”

  “I need to meet with you. I need to give you something. But first I need to know that you won’t turn me in.”

  Sabre hesitated for just a second. She wanted Bailey off the streets but she also didn’t want her arrested. She had an obligation to protect her minor client, but she also had to honor her confidentiality. It was more difficult with children. The law was a lot clearer with adults.

  “Of course. I won’t turn you in. Where can we meet?”

  “And you won’t bring anyone with you?” Bailey asked.

 

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