“One night he started drinking before he came home, but he wasn’t drunk yet when he arrived. I could tell he was upset. When I tried to talk to him he just ignored me. He went to the refrigerator, took out a six-pack of Shiner Bock—that’s what he always drank when he drank beer—and went into his study. I fixed dinner and then went to tell him it was ready. When I opened the door he flung a nearly full bottle of beer at me. It hit my shoulder, splattered beer all over me, and then smashed when it hit the tile floor. I stood there for a second in shock. He stood up and walked toward me. I think I expected him to apologize. I figured he was angry about something else and didn’t realize I had entered the room.”
“But he didn’t apologize, did he?”
“No. He said, ‘I’ve had a rough day. Clean it up.’ Then he walked out the door and left the house. He stayed out all night. He had flowers delivered to me the next day with a note that read, I love you more than all the stars over Texas. When he came home he acted like nothing had happened. I tried to talk to him. He apologized for throwing the bottle, but he didn’t want any further discussion. After that he reverted to his usual charming self.”
“How long did that last?” JP asked.
“Not long. A couple of weeks later he came home very late and very drunk. He smelled of cheap perfume. He wanted to make love to me and when I told him no, he got belligerent. He said I was his wife and we would do it when he ‘damn well pleased.’ I tried to fight him off but he held me down. The more I fought, the more sexually excited he seemed to get.” Robin paused and her face tightened. She swallowed and tried to compose herself. She looked directly at JP, holding his gaze. “I’m sure you don’t need to hear all this.”
JP placed his hand on her knee. “Robin, if I’m going to help you, I need to know exactly what happened.”
She took a deep breath and with her eyes turned down toward the floor she continued, speaking rapidly as if she had to get it all out before she changed her mind. “I struggled to break loose from him until he backhanded me across the face. The blow stunned me and I just collapsed and decided to let him have me. But then he totally deflated and he became angrier. I think it was because I stopped fighting him. I was so frightened. My head pounded. I didn’t know what to do, so finally I struggled just enough so he could keep his erection, the whole time praying that I wasn’t getting pregnant. I just wanted it all over with.” She took another deep breath and sighed.
“And did you get pregnant?”
“No. I guess God heard my prayers.”
JP tried to contain his anger for this despicable man. Robin didn’t deserve that. No woman deserved that. “What did you do then?”
“After he fell asleep I wanted to sneak out, but I was afraid he would wake up and stop me. The next morning when he got up, he acted like nothing had happened.”
“No apology or anything?”
“No, and I was afraid to bring it up. When he left for work I packed a few things and I went to my mother’s. Ty showed up before the sun went down. He brought me chocolates, apologized, blamed it on the booze, and promised he would never do it again. I told him I needed a few days to think things over.”
“And he let you?”
“Reluctantly. He started courting me all over again. Every day I received flowers and phone calls from him. He professed his undying love to me and promised he wouldn’t ever drink again. I went to the doctor and got on birth control. I hadn’t decided if I was going back or not, but one thing I knew for sure.…I didn’t want to get pregnant.”
“And then you went back?”
“Not until about two weeks later. He had been so sweet and my mother kept encouraging me to save my marriage. So, I went home. All was good for nearly another month. I still received some strange phone calls occasionally, but he always explained them and he totally abstained from alcohol. Then one Saturday I went shopping and when I returned he was sitting at the table with a bottle of whiskey and my birth control pills. He grabbed my arm before I could set the bag of groceries down. The groceries hit the floor and a jar of pickles broke and splattered across the floor. I tried to pull away, but I slipped in the pickle juice and fell. I landed on a piece of broken glass and my leg started bleeding.” She gulped.
JP could see how Robin struggled to tell her story and he felt his face redden with anger. He placed a reassuring hand on hers, both of which were still holding the coffee mug tightly. She let go of her mug with her right hand and placed it in his other hand.
She continued. “He grabbed my arm and pulled me across the floor over the broken jar; the chunks of glass ripped my leg in several places. Then he yanked me to my feet, carried me to the bedroom, and threw me on the bed. He forced himself on me, all the time yelling at me, calling me a whore and screaming about how God meant for us to have babies. I was scared and angry and my leg hurt. I could feel pieces of glass push deeper in my leg. Somehow I managed to get out of the blood-soaked bed and away from him. I ran out of the room, but he caught up with me, spun me around, and hit me in the face with his fist.”
JP felt her grip on his hand tighten. Her other hand on the coffee mug trembled. He took the cup from her hand, set in on the coffee table, and then took her other hand in his. “Go on,” he said.
“When I woke up my clothes were soaked in pickle juice and blood. Ty was gone and so were my keys and my cell phone. We lived too far from civilization to walk for help and I was still bleeding. There was also a lot of dried blood on my body and when I moved my leg a couple of cuts broke open. I was scared and confused and tried to find something to bandage my leg. All I could find were some small Band-Aids and there were some pretty big gashes on my thigh. I decided to clean up so I took a shower and washed my hair so I wouldn’t smell like pickle juice. When I stepped out of the shower, Ty was back. He stood there in the bathroom with some medical supplies in his hand. His head hung low as if in shame and his voice was soft. He told me…no, he asked me... to please sit down and he would take care of me. He gently dabbed the blood away with a towel, put peroxide on the wounds, and applied some butterfly bandages holding the gaps together. Then he wrapped gauze around the two larger cuts and applied smaller bandages to the others.”
Robin finally looked directly at JP for just a second and then she turned her face away. JP wondered if she saw the contempt for Tyson in his eyes. She continued. "He kept my cell phone and my keys and pretty much locked the rest of the world out. I started to realize then and there that he had already been isolating me from my family and friends for some time. My mother called on his phone when she couldn’t reach me on mine. He told her my phone was acting up and we were waiting on the phone company to fix it. After that, most of the time when she called he would tell her I wasn’t home. On a rare occasion he’d give me the phone to talk to her, but he always stayed near me. I didn’t want to scare my mother, so I was very careful what I said. A couple of times I told her I was sick, but then I was afraid that she was worrying about my health. I was more worried for her than me.”
“So how long did that go on?” JP asked.
“For several months. Then one day he took me to see my mother. I think he was worried that she might start getting suspicious. We didn’t stay long and I tried to act as normal as possible. There hadn’t been any more physical confrontations, mostly because I did whatever he wanted and he hadn’t been drinking. By then I hated having sex with him because I felt like a prisoner and I was so afraid I would get pregnant. Don’t get me wrong. I really wanted to have a baby, just not his baby.”
JP saw a flash of pain cross Robin’s face. Her eyebrows furrowed and her forehead wrinkled. Then she took a deep breath. He waited.
“One night he came home about midnight. He was so drunk I don’t know how he drove. He was angry because I didn’t wait up for him and he just started slapping me. I didn’t fight back. I never knew what to do because sometimes it made him angrier if I fought and other times it seemed to be worse if I didn’t. This time he slap
ped me harder each time and then he took off his belt and hit me with the buckle. He threw me down on the kitchen table and tore my clothes off. I tried to escape, but I couldn’t. He forced himself on top of me, raped me, and then passed out. I had to struggle to get out from under him, and he fell off the table when I did. The fall didn’t even wake him up. That’s when I decided it was my chance to escape. I dug his keys out of his pants. The key to my car wasn’t on his keychain. So I snatched his cell phone off the counter where he had laid it, threw on some clothes, and jumped in his car and took off.”
“Is that his car in the garage?”
“No, I went to my cousin Sandy’s house. You remember her, right? She lived on Machado near the park.”
“Of course. I remember how much she loved guns. Was a darn good shot, too, if I remember correctly. She always wanted to be a cop. Did she ever do it?”
“No. She became a nurse, worked at it for a while, and then married a cattle rancher,” Robin said. “I stayed at Sandy’s for one night. I knew Ty would want his SUV back and I wanted my car, so Sandy got a friend of hers to make an exchange. When they were kids, Little Joe was pretty small and he and Tyson would get into fights. Tyson always won. But then Little Joe grew up and one day he nearly killed Ty.” Robin paused. “Besides, I think Ty was trying to get me back and thought he better act the nice guy. Anyway, as soon as I had my own car I left there and went to a shelter. I knew he’d find me if I stayed with her.”
“Is that when you came here?”
“No, he found me at the shelter about a week later. I was taking the trash out back and he grabbed me. He covered my mouth, dragged me to his truck, and pushed me in on the driver’s side. I screamed and he punched me in the face with his fist. I reached for the passenger door handle, but he had a large duffle bag shoved against the door. I don’t know what was in it, but it was heavy. I tried to push it off the seat, but I couldn’t. I tried reaching around it, but I couldn’t get to the door handle. Then I saw a rope running from the grab handle above the window down to the door. He must have tied the door shut. He drove off with me, but my car stayed behind. The shelter called Sandy because that’s who I had for an emergency contact. She came and picked up the car and took it to her house.
“That night the beating Ty gave me was the worst yet. He was livid because he missed the first day of hunting season and he blamed me for it. Early the next morning he packed up his gear and told me I had better be there when he returned. Sandy sent her friend to check on me. He waited until Ty left and then he drove up to the house. The door was locked so he rang the bell. I looked out the window and saw him. I tried to get the window up, but it wouldn’t budge. I was in pretty bad shape so it took me a while to stumble downstairs and I feared he’d leave before I got there, but he didn’t. He walked around the house trying to find a window to climb in. I expect he would’ve broken one if I hadn’t arrived when I did.”
“Where did you go?”
“We went to Sandy’s.”
“Did you call the police?”
A slight sarcastic laugh came from Robin’s throat. “It’s a small town and the local law enforcement consists of three people: Ty’s cousin, Blake Cooper, who had gone hunting with him; his best friend, Jimmy Porter; and his father, Big Jim Porter.”
“So, did you tell them?”
“No, when we found out Blake had gone hunting with Ty, we decided they would just alert him and I’d have less time to escape. Sandy cleaned me up and bandaged my wounds. I waited until dark and then left and came here.”
“Do you think he’ll keep looking for you?”
“He told me there was nowhere I could hide from him.” She looked up at JP, her wet eyes filled with fear. “He knows my last name used to be Torn and I know I’ve mentioned you to him before. For that matter he could easily find out everything about you. He has lots of resources. He could get your address and come here.”
“First of all, he has no reason to believe you would come to me. Second, he wouldn’t be able to track me to this house because I’ve never used this address on anything. I use a postal box address on everything, even my driver’s license.”
“Is that legal?”
“No, but it’s a lot safer in my line of work.” JP put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. “You’re safe here.”
Chapter 12
The Tran Case
Child: Emma, age 18 mos. (F)
Parents: Father—unknown, Mother—Kim-Ly Tran
Issues: Neglect
Facts: Mother left eighteen-month-old girl in locked room and went to work. Apartment complex caught on fire.
Sabre had already gone for an early morning run, showered, and left the house for her usual Saturday “home visits” with her minor clients. Since her route took her near Scripps Hospital, she decided to stop and check on Dr. Heller. They were not friends, but they had a good professional relationship, one based on mutual respect. Dr. Heller was always the first on Sabre’s list when she needed a psychological evaluation because she trusted her tolerant, yet honest assessment. She could not be bought, but she was certainly more open-minded in her views than many of the doctors used by the prosecutors.
Sabre stood in the hospital room looking at the unconscious Dr. Heller. What kind of animal would do this? She wondered if JP was right, that there might be a connection between Judge Mitchell’s death and the attack on the doctor. She held her hand and spoke softly. “It’s going to be alright, Carolina. You hang in there.” She didn’t know what else to say or if it mattered. She touched her lightly on the shoulder and left.
Just outside the door she encountered a tall doctor with disheveled hair and bags under his eyes who was just about to enter Heller’s room. “Good morning, Doctor.” She put out her hand to shake his. “I’m Sabre Brown, a friend of Dr. Heller’s.”
He shook her hand. “Dr. Brister,” he said.
“You look tired. Are you just starting your shift?”
“It’s been a long night,” he said. “Were you here to see Dr. Heller?”
“Yes, I was just in there. Has there been any change in her condition?”
“Her vitals are a little better this morning. That’s about all I can tell you at this point.”
“Thank you,” Sabre said and continued down the hallway and out to her car.
***
After stopping at Polinsky Receiving Home to see a newly appointed six-year-old boy, Sabre continued on to a group home in Mira Mesa to see a teenage girl who had just arrived there. She visited with the girl, and then continued on her way to see a maternal aunt home where a tox baby had been placed. Finally, she arrived at the foster home of Mr. and Mrs. Nguyen. Emma Tran, the eighteen-month-old girl on the Tran case was recently detained in this home. Sabre introduced herself to both foster parents and was invited in and offered tea, which she politely refused.
“Emma should be waking up from her nap any time now,” Mrs. Nguyen said.
“That’s fine because I have a few questions for you.” Sabre sat down on the chair that Mrs. Nguyen offered her. Mr. Nguyen left the room. “Have you met the Court Appointed Special Advocate on this case yet?”
“No, the social worker told me about her. Apparently, her name is Mae Chu. I’ve been waiting for her call, but so far I haven’t heard from her.”
“What about the mother, Kim-Ly, have you met her yet?”
“Yes, she had a visit yesterday. She’s so young. She’s still a child herself and trying to raise a baby.”
“I know. And we haven’t been able to find any family here. Has she said anything to you about them?”
“No. She didn’t talk about her life much.”
“How was she with Emma?”
“She held her and played with her appropriately. She seems to really love her daughter, but….” Mrs. Nguyen paused.
“But?”
“She asked me what happens when children are adopted, if the parents ever get to see them again.”
“Did you get the impression she was considering giving her up?”
“I couldn’t tell for sure. She looked very sad when she asked. She may have just thought she didn’t have a chance of getting her back.”
“What did you tell her?”
“I told her to talk to the social worker. She could answer her questions better than I could. And I told her to be sure to stay in her programs. She was real concerned about the baby being safe, which seemed a little odd considering she left the baby home alone. Maybe it’s that she’s so young.”
“That’s the second time you mentioned how young Kim-Ly is. She says she’s twenty-one and she has a birth certificate that verifies it.” Sabre noticed the foster mother shaking her head in disagreement. “But you don’t think so, do you?”
“That girl is no more than sixteen at best.”
Mr. Nguyen stepped into the living room carrying a beautiful, dark-haired, dainty little girl with hazel-colored, almond-shaped eyes. Sabre stood up and stepped closer to her. “Hello, Emma,” she said. Emma didn’t respond. She rubbed her eye with a tiny fist.
“She’s still sleepy,” Mr. Nguyen said. He continued to hold her for a few minutes and then he set her down on the floor. The child appeared very steady on her feet, but she didn’t take any steps. He retrieved a book about baby animals and handed it to her. She took the book, plopped down where she had been standing, and slowly flipped the pages, spending close to a minute on each page and carefully studying the pictures before she went to the next one.
“Does she talk at all?” Sabre asked.
“She has a decent size vocabulary, mostly Vietnamese, but she’s a very shy little girl,” Mrs. Nguyen said, “so she doesn’t express herself often. We speak to her frequently in English.”
“I’ve only seen her once before at Polinsky and she seemed to be developmentally appropriate for her age. What do you think?”
The Advocate's Ex Parte (The Advocate Series Book 5) Page 6