The Advocate - 03 - The Advocate's Conviction

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The Advocate - 03 - The Advocate's Conviction Page 26

by Teresa Burrell


  Sabre followed the off ramp around and onto the 94 as she continued to goad him. The water splashed as she drove through a little dip in the road. “But Dr. Ric and ‘Barney’,” Sabre emphasized the name for Rob’s sake, “they’re covering their bases, aren’t they. They’re setting you up to take the fall. How can you kill little innocent children?”

  Rob raised his voice. “I don’t kill babies.”

  “And what’s with the cult thing? Do you justify your sadistic behavior by blaming it on the devil? You’re sick.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Sabre looked at her gas gauge. It was almost empty. She wondered if she should let it run out of gas in hopes someone would come along. Or should she suggest they stop at a gas station and see if she could get help. She opted for the latter.

  “I know that we need to get some gas or we’re going to be stranded.”

  Rob leaned forward and looked at the gauge. The needle was below the empty line and the gas light was on. “Damn it,” he said.

  Sabre kept driving east on the 94 her windshield wipers slapping back and forth. “There’s a Shell station coming up. Do you want me to stop?”

  “Okay. Stop. But no tricks.”

  Sabre took the next off ramp and turned right into the station. She pulled up next to the pump. A young woman was filling her tank on the other side of the pump while she waited inside the car. The other pumps were unoccupied.

  “Here’s what you’re going to do. You get out, run your credit card, start pumping the gas, and then get back in the car until it finishes. Do not talk to anyone.”

  “I don’t have a credit card with me. I only have cash.”

  “Don’t lie to me. You’re not going inside.”

  “I’m not lying. I left the house in a hurry. I don’t even have my driver’s license. Look, she pulled some cash out of her back pocket.”

  “Where’s your purse?”

  “I don’t carry a purse.”

  “Every woman carries a purse.”

  “Not me.”

  “Me neither,” Bailey said. It surprised Sabre when she spoke up. She had hardly said a word since they left.

  “I’ll gladly use your credit card,” Sabre said. “We can get gas and leave a paper trail.”

  Rob took a minute to respond. “I have a better idea. Give me the keys.” Sabre took them out of the ignition and handed them to him. “Now get out of the car slowly. One wrong move and Bailey is dead.” Sabre stepped out of the car. He opened his door. “You too.” Rob pulled Bailey’s arm as he backed out of the car, keeping the gun in her back as he walked around to Sabre. They stood there for a few minutes in the cold air facing the woman in the car next to them. Although they were under the cover, the wind was whipping cold air through them. Sabre shivered.

  When the woman exited her car and took a step toward the pump, he moved the gun from Bailey to the woman. He popped her on the back of the head with the gun. Bailey screamed but with the noise from the wind and the rain, the scream didn’t carry very far.

  “Shut up and get in. Both of you.” He signaled for them to get into the woman’s car, while pulling the gas hose out of the tank and flinging it to the side. Sabre buckled up and looked back at Bailey, giving her a quick nod. “Move it,” Rob yelled. Sabre heard the click of Bailey’s seatbelt. Sabre yanked her door shut, looked forward, and saw no cars coming on the street. She pushed the accelerator to the floor and sped forward, making a quick turn to the right around the side of the convenience store. A glance in the rearview mirror told her Rob had lost his balance. He slid to the left against the door. “Slow down,” he yelled. Rob grabbed onto Sabre’s seat with his right hand and flung his left arm with gun in hand around her neck.

  In the downpour, the car was losing traction. Sabre pulled the steering wheel with both hands as quickly as she could toward the right. They slid onto the street and into a spin, throwing water into the air like a fountain. She no longer had control of the car. She let go of the wheel and grabbed onto Rob’s gun with both hands. He pulled his hand and hit her in the face with the butt of the gun, but she still held on tightly. She turned her head to the left and used all the leverage she could muster to push the gun away. The car made a complete 360-degree turn. She felt like she was inside a washing machine the way the water was spinning past her. She caught glimpses of wet buildings and trees. Then there was a crash of metal and a deafening sound in Sabre’s ear as the gun discharged and flew forward against the windshield.

  Sabre turned around. Someone had turned off the sound, except for the church bells ringing in her ears. “Bailey!” Sabre felt her mouth open and the word formed on her lips, but she couldn’t hear her own scream. She saw the shocked look on Bailey’s face and the blood running down the side of her mouth. Bailey’s eyes were opened wide and her mouth was agape as she stared at Sabre. She thought she saw Bailey’s lips move but couldn’t hear what she said. The world was completely silent. The ringing came from within. She looked down. Blood covered Bailey’s chest and Rob lay slumped across her lap.

  51

  “It’s raining so hard, the animals are starting to pair up,” JP said.

  “Can you see where you’re driving?” Bob asked.

  “Not too well. It’s a good thing you know your way around here. We’d never be able to read these street signs.”

  “Speaking of which, you need to take the next exit and stay to your right.”

  JP drove down the off ramp and made the turn. “I hope we’re going to the right place.”

  “Don’t you think we should call the police?” Bob asked.

  “And tell them what? That we think we know one of four people who might have killed Scott, and those same four people are using satanic rituals to kill babies? No, officer, we don’t have anyone who has actually seen any babies killed, nor do we have a witness to Scott’s murder, but we’re pretty sure because there’s a pregnant teenager missing from a group home.”

  “We know more than that. We know there was a social worker and an officer of the court seen leaving a house where rituals are practiced,” Bob said.

  “Yes, a private home and we don’t know if there’s any evidence in there now. Everything could have been removed since the film was taken. And furthermore, the only one who can authenticate the film is sitting in juvenile hall charged with Scott’s murder.”

  “Okay, maybe we need a little more. But what do you expect to find?”

  “I don’t know, but maybe it would be better if I do this alone. You really shouldn’t get mixed up in this.”

  “Are you kidding me? I haven’t had this much fun since our joy ride with Sabre.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  “Next right.” JP turned. “It should be straight ahead.”

  JP drove forward until he saw lights from a house surrounded by bushes. He drove as close to the driveway as he dared and then stopped the car on the country road. From there he could see the enormous oak tree.

  “Are you going out in that rain?”

  “No, we’re going out in that rain.” JP looked out the window. “It is a bit of a gully-washer isn’t it? Hey, make sure the ringer is off on your phone.” Then he stepped out of the car, walked around to the trunk, and removed two flashlights. He handed one to Bob. “Here, don’t turn it on unless you have to and use it as a club if you need to.”

  JP walked toward the house with Bob following closely behind him. They were completely soaked before they had gone twenty feet. “Stay near the bushes,” JP said.

  “Look,” Bob said, pointing to a window on the second floor where an old woman sat in a chair. “It looks like something from the Bates Motel.”

  “Just make sure she doesn’t see you.” JP pulled Bob back a little closer to the bushes. “There are only two cars in the driveway and there’s no garage. The Beetle belongs to the social worker. She and Rob probably rode together. The other car must belong to Barney or Barry, whatever his name is.
So maybe the doctor isn’t here.”

  “Barry goes to court in a taxi, so maybe he doesn’t have a car.”

  “Maryanne told me that he didn’t drive in high school. Perhaps he never learned.” They continued along the bushes until they were even with the house. The door they had seen in the video stood about fifteen feet from them just beyond the oak tree. “That’s probably the room they’re in if Mena is having her baby. You stay right there under that tree near the door, but back where they can’t see you if they come out. I’m going to see if I can get inside.”

  “Are you crazy?”

  “Crazier than a dog at a hubcap factory.”

  JP creeped around the back of the house and tried the back door. It was locked. He reached inside his jacket and removed a piece of plastic. He leaned against the door and slid the plastic in the crack between the door and the frame. Then he tilted the card so it nearly touched the doorknob, pushed it a little further in and then back in the opposite direction. The lock released. He slowly and carefully opened the door and stepped inside.

  Bob watched as a cargo van turned onto the property, flipped a U-turn, and backed up close to the door near him. Bob stepped back further into the shadows and dropped down behind a bush. A man stepped out and dashed the ten feet or so to the door, opened it, and went inside. Bob could see a woman sitting in the front seat.

  The floor creaked as JP stealthily moved through the house. Only two of the rooms downstairs had lights on—the room from the film and what appeared to be the living room. JP hid in a bedroom and peeked through a crack in the door. He was close enough to see across the hall, through the large archway, and into the living room. He watched as a man handed Barry a box. Barry opened it and took out a pack of what looked like one-hundred-dollar bills. JP tried to keep up with the count. If he was right, the bills totaled about two-hundred-thousand dollars. Gillian entered the room carrying a bundle swaddled in a pink blanket. She pulled the blanket back, showed the man the baby’s face, and then handed the newborn to him.

  As they walked toward the front door with the baby, JP slipped out of the room, down the hallway, and out the back door. He walked next to the siding until he reached Bob. Then he dropped down behind him and whispered. “Can you see the license number on that van?”

  “I already got it.”

  “Good job, partner.”

  “What’s going on in there?”

  “They’re not killing babies. They’re selling babies.”

  “Selling them?” Bob said a little too loudly.

  “Shh … yes, selling.”

  Bob whispered again. “That’s good. I mean, it’s better … at least the babies are still alive.

  So now what?”

  “I don’t want to risk the baby getting hurt. And Mena must be in the house as well. It’s time to call the police.”

  Barry held an umbrella over the man and the baby as they walked to the van. The car door opened as they approached, and JP and Bob could see what appeared to be an incubator in the back of the van. After the woman stepped out of the passenger seat and into the back seat, the man handed her the baby and the doors closed. Barry returned to the house through the side door. The van drove away headed west on the country road.

  As soon as the van pulled away, JP called his friend at the sheriff’s department and reported the events. Then they circled around to the other side of the bushes and headed back to the car, moving as quickly as they could. They waited in the car in case anyone else tried to leave.

  Within five minutes there were more cops surrounding the place than a Dunkin’ Donuts on a Saturday morning. JP’s friend, Kevin, from the sheriff’s department, came over to talk to him. JP briefly told him everything he knew. Then they sat there and watched as everyone in the house was taken out in handcuffs and placed in police cars, starting with Barry, then Dr. Ric Cavitt, two women JP didn’t recognize, the social worker, and finally, the old woman in the window. An ambulance arrived shortly thereafter, loaded Mena in the back, and drove off with siren blaring.

  Kevin went to JP’s car to let him know that they had picked up the couple in the van and the baby was being transported to the same hospital as Mena.

  “What’s the story on the old woman?” JP asked.

  “Apparently she thinks she receives special powers from the tree—that somehow Satan communicates with her through the mighty oak. I guess she’s a tree witch or something. She’s been having meetings like this for over forty years. She’s a total crackpot.”

  JP shook his head. “As my granddaddy would say, ‘I’ve been to two goat ropin’s and a county fair and I ain’t never seen nothin’ like this.’”

  52

  Sabre’s mind was still in a fog as she looked around at the blood surrounding her. Her ears were ringing and the pain was excruciating. She tried to unbuckle her seat belt with her right hand, but pain shot through her arm when she applied pressure. She reached over with her left hand and undid the belt. After opening the car door and stepping out into the pouring rain, she found the drops to be soothing on her face. But after a minute or two, she just felt cold and wet. The deluge did, however, rouse her from her daze as she watched the pink rainwater run down her shirt. She felt a draft on her leg where her pants were torn and bloody.

  She saw people running towards her in the rain. “Call 9-1-1,” she yelled. She didn’t hear a response. Her ears still ringing, she dashed around to the other side of the car to reach Bailey. The front passenger side enveloped a telephone pole. The pole took up half of the front seat. Sabre grabbed the door handle on the back door with her right hand. Pain shot through. She switched to her left, but the door still wouldn’t open. A man tapped her on the shoulder and directed her around to the other side.

  “I need to help Bailey,” she screamed. “The man in there is a killer!”

  The man said something but she couldn’t make it out. Sabre could hear the garbled sound of voices around her as the ringing subsided slightly. The sirens sounded so far away but the flashing lights were close. Two police cars pulled up along side her. Four officers exited the cars. Three of them advanced toward the car and one toward the convenient store. A female officer took Sabre’s arm and moved her aside.

  “He was holding us hostage,” Sabre said to her. “He made me drive here. He stole a car.” Sabre looked around. Her eyes landed on the gas pumps. “Where is she? The woman? He hit her with his gun and stole her car.”

  “You need to sit down,” she said. The officer appeared to be shouting but Sabre could barely hear the words.

  “I’m sorry. I’m having trouble hearing. There’s a loud ringing in my ears.” More flashing lights and quiet sirens ensued—a fire truck, an ambulance, more police cars. The place lit up like a carnival. “I’m okay. Please see how Bailey is.”

  The officer attempted to direct Sabre to an ambulance. Sabre raised her hands and waved her off. “I’ll go when they get Bailey out of the car.” She walked to where she could see what was happening, but stood back so she wouldn’t interfere. Another ambulance arrived. The ringing wasn’t as intense and the voices and noises around her became louder. Sabre stood in the rain and watched the carnival unfold. They removed Rob from the car, placed him on a stretcher, and wheeled him into an ambulance.

  The second ambulance backed up closer to the crashed car. A fireman reached inside and picked up Bailey. He carried her to the ambulance and placed her inside on a stretcher. Sabre followed him in and sat next to Bailey, squeezing her hand.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Bob and JP rushed into the examining room and found Sabre sitting on the edge of her bed awaiting release. Her right arm was wrapped and in a sling. Her forearm and leg were bandaged, and the side of her face was bruised.

  “How are you, kid?” JP asked.

  Sabre smiled. “I’m all right. Thanks for coming.”

  JP remained standing while Bob took a seat on the bed next to her and put his arm around her, gingerly squeezing her shou
lder. “You had us pretty worried when that cop called.”

  “Sorry, I would’ve called myself, but I was a little preoccupied.”

  “So, what’s the diagnosis? Any broken bones?” Bob asked.

  “No. My injuries are minor—a sprained wrist, bruises, and a few cuts. That’s it. Oh, and that dreadful ringing in my ears. At least it has toned down a lot. At first I couldn’t hear anything except a pounding gong. Now the intensity is more like a doorbell. The doctor said the ringing could last a few days but should gradually fade, and we’re hoping for no permanent damage.”

  “The officer said you were with a young woman and a man. Was it Bailey?” JP said.

  “Yes, and Rob Cavitt.”

  “Damn it,” JP scowled. “How’s Bailey?”

  “Not bad. Her leg is broken, but there don’t appear to be any internal injuries and there is no serious head trauma. They’re still checking her and they’re going to keep her overnight.”

  “And Cavitt?” JP asked.

  “He’s dead. I guess he should’ve been wearing his seatbelt.” Sabre tried to smile but she was still angry and it reflected in her face.

  “To hell with him,” JP said.

  “Yeah, forget about him,” Bob added.

  Sabre sighed. “You two arrived here in a hurry. Where were you?”

  “We were taking care of a little business,” Bob said. “First, tell us what happened.”

  Sabre explained the events of the evening, and JP and Bob told her about their adventure in turn. “So, what did the two other women look like who were arrested?”

  “One was tall and thin; the other was shorter and wider,” JP said. “By wider I mean she was solid and muscular.”

  “It sounds like the two women Bailey described who were there when she gave birth. I wonder how many other people are involved.”

  “I still don’t quite get what’s going on,” Bob said. “What was with all the satanic ritual stuff? And just who all is involved with this baby snatching ring?”

 

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