The Durham Case
Child: Matt Durham, Defendant
Type: Delinquency case
Charges: Two counts of First Degree Murder
Victims: Hannah Rawlins & Mason Usher
Facts: Double homicide. Two teenagers bludgeoned to death with a baseball bat.
“Are you Ralph Fletcher?” JP asked the man in the white shirt with Ralph embroidered on the patch just above his heart. The tall, thin man looked older than his twenty-four years. He struck JP as someone whose drug use had left its mark on his body as well as his yellow teeth. An incisor on the left side was missing.
“Yeah, why?”
“I’m a private investigator for Matt Durham. I understand you’re a friend of his.”
He raised his right hand, palm up to JP. “Look, man, I don’t need any trouble.”
“I just need to verify his whereabouts on the night Hannah Rawlins and her friend, Mason Usher, were killed. He says he was with you. Is that true?”
“Yeah, we were together all evening.”
“What were you doing?”
“What did he say we were doing?”
“I’m not asking you to cover for him. I just want the truth.”
Ralph walked back into the empty lobby of Jim’s Oil and Lube and purchased a can of Pepsi from the vending machine. He turned around to face JP. “I thought you said you were working for Matt.”
“I am working for Matt, but I need to know what really happened so his attorney can present the case. I don’t want something the DA can use against him.” Ralph took a drink of his soda, looked at JP suspiciously, and still didn’t answer the question. “Were you playing video games?” JP continued.
Ralph nodded, bobbing his whole upper body. “Yeah, video games. That’s it.”
JP wanted to smack the cocky look off his face. “Where?”
“At my pad.”
“Where is that?”
“Over on Mt. Alifan Drive.”
“Was anyone else there?”
“Nope. Just the two of us.”
“Is there anything else you can tell me about Matt that might be important to his case.”
Ralph raised his eyebrows and scrunched up his face as if he was actually thinking, which JP had already decided he was incapable of doing. Then Ralph bobbed his head and upper body again. “I don’t think he did it,” he said, as if he was suddenly an authority on Matt’s behavior.
JP didn’t say anything to Ralph, but he thought that was an odd thing to say since Matt couldn’t have done it if he was actually with him playing video games. So far, JP wasn’t sure anything Ralph had said yet held any truth. And who knows? Maybe he didn’t even get his name right.
Ralph walked out of the lobby. JP followed. “I gotta get back to work,” Ralph said.
“Matt is only fourteen years old. What’s the connection between you two?”
Ralph spun around and moved close to JP’s face, their noses just a few inches apart. “What are you saying, man?”
JP raised both hands, palms up. “Calm down. I’m not insinuating anything. I’m just asking. He’s just a kid. What do you two have in common?”
Ralph’s face turned red, but he backed off a little. “Look, man, I’m not some pervert or something. We met at a video arcade. He likes to play video games. So do I. He doesn’t seem to have a lot of friends, so I’m nice to him.”
“How long have you known him?”
“A few months. And I didn’t know he was only fourteen until all this stuff came out about the murder and all. He told me he was sixteen.”
“That makes sense then,” JP said sarcastically, but it went over Ralph’s head.
Ralph nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I mean.”
“Sure,” JP said. “Do you mind answering a couple of more questions?”
Ralph stopped and looked at JP without responding. JP took that as a yes.
“Did you work on Tuesday?”
“No, it was my day off. I went to see Matt.”
“What time was that?”
“Around four.”
“And then where did you go?”
“Why?”
“I’m just trying to put some pieces of the puzzle together.”
“I went home. I wasn’t feeling well.”
“Were you alone?”
“Yeah. What’s this all about, man?” He scowled at JP. “Are you trying to pin that judge’s murder on me?”
“So, you heard about the judge getting killed?”
“Yeah, Matt told me.”
“When you went to see him on Tuesday?”
“Yeah.” Ralph nodded his head, then shook it from side to side, “No. He told me on Wednesday.”
“So you saw him both days?”
“That’s right.”
“I thought you were sick.”
“I was sick, but he’s lonely, man. No one goes to see him.”
JP thanked him and went back to his car. He needed an oil change but decided he didn’t trust Ralph enough to have it done at Jim’s Oil and Lube. His criminal record check had told him that much, but talking to him confirmed it. His record contained no violence, mostly misdemeanor drug busts, shoplifting, and one DUI. None of it was in the last year and a half. Perhaps he had reformed. JP thought it more likely he was getting a little better at not getting caught. And what was he really doing hanging out with a fourteen-year-old kid?
Chapter 23
The Wheeler Case
Children: Holly (F) and Bradley (M), age 9 years (twins), four other children
Parents: Father—Willie Wheeler, Mother—Debra Wheeler
Issues: Physical Abuse, Neglect
Facts: Dirty Home, drugs, alcohol, physical abuse, mental problems
“Thanks for letting me tag along,” JP said to Bob as they drove up to Renette Park in El Cajon.
“I don’t know how helpful it’ll be. It’s hard to get much out of Willie, but I appreciate the company. Spending an hour and a half with ‘Whacky Willie’ Wheeler isn’t my idea of a good time, but he usually manages to provide some kind of crazy entertainment.”
JP knew Bob would rather be doing something else, but the truth was, in spite of the way he talked about his clients, he had a soft spot for them. “It’s nice of you to supervise the visit.”
“Willie wanted to see his twins on their birthday and no one else could do it today. Besides, if I was home, Marilee would just be nagging at me to finish painting the guest room.”
“You haven’t finished the painting yet?”
“Not quite.”
“I don’t blame her. You started that six months ago.”
“What can I say? I’m a busy guy.”
They left the car and walked toward the picnic bench where Willie and Debbie Wheeler were waiting.
“They’re prompt. I have to give them that,” JP said.
“They’re a mess, but they do love their children...in their own perverted way,” Bob said.
What a sight, JP thought. Both Willie and Debbie had cigarettes dangling from their mouths. Willie was tall and lanky, his face beginning to take on the look of tanned leather that comes from too much sun and smoke exposure. Debbie’s thirty-eight years had taken a toll on her thin body. Her tangled, blonde hair peeked out below a poufy red hat wrapped in orange and green feathers, several of which had broken loose and extended outward. Their clothes bore a few stains, but were otherwise clean. Two buttons appeared to be missing from Willie’s shirt, and a seam had broken apart about an inch long on the shoulder of Debbie’s yellow, cotton dress.
“Nice hat,” Bob said to Debbie as they approached.
She beamed an appreciative smile.
“Attorney SpongeBob SquarePants,” Willie said.
Bob extended his hand to Willie. “Hi, Willie.” He turned toward JP. “This is JP. He works with Sabre, your children’s attorney.”
“Yep, nice to meet you, sir,” Willie said to JP. He turned quickly toward Bob. “Where are the ki
ds?”
Bob looked at his watch. “It’s still early. Don’t worry. They’ll be here.”
Willie leaned in toward Bob’s ear and asked, “Did you bring it?”
“Yes, I did, Willie. It’s in my trunk. I’ll get it a little later. And my wife made the twins a cake.”
Willie slapped Bob lightly on the shoulder. “Thanks, Attorney SpongeBob.” He pointed to a couple of gift bags sitting on the table as he bounced around. Willie didn’t stand still very well. He paced or bobbed constantly. “And we got the kids each a little somethin’. Yep, the wife insisted. After all, you only turn ten once, right?”
“Yeah, and they had these bags at the dollar store,” Debbie added proudly, blowing smoke out as she spoke. “It ain’t much, but it’s a little something.” She took a drag from her cigarette. “I wish we could tell them they’re coming home for their birthday.” Again her hand brought her cigarette to her mouth. “Any chance of that?” She took another drag.
“No, Debbie, you know that can’t happen just yet.”
JP spoke up. “Perhaps we can talk a bit before the children get here.”
“Good idea,” Bob said. “Would you like to sit down?”
“Yep,” Willie said, but remained standing and fidgeting. “You sure you brought it, Attorney SpongeBob?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“It’ll be a special surprise for them, don’t you think?” Tears started to well up in Willie’s eyes. “Debbie doesn’t know, either. It’s a surprise for her, too.”
“Yes, it will be special. They’re going to be real happy, but you have to keep it together now. No crying.”
Willie sniffed. “Okay, but you got it, right?”
“Yes, Willie, now please just focus for a minute and answer a few questions for JP. Then I’ll go get it. Okay?”
Willie nodded. Ashes fell from the cigarette in his mouth. He seldom removed it from his lips. Occasionally he would reach up and hold it with his index finger and thumb as he puffed. But mostly he just used his mouth to control it.
JP thought he had never seen anyone smoke quite like that before, but then Willie was a little different on a lot of levels. JP noticed that Debbie, on the other hand, had almost the opposite habit. Her cigarette flew in and out of her mouth at a record pace.
JP finally asked, “Willie, do you know where you were last Tuesday evening?”
“Hmm,” Willie said. “Let me think. Did I see Parnhard that night?”
“Who’s Par…?” JP started to ask.
“Don’t ask,” Bob said to JP. He turned to Willie. “Think, Willie, it’s important. Where were you on Tuesday night?”
Willie still appeared to be searching his brain for an answer when Debbie spoke up. “We were at the church bingo.”
“You were playing bingo?” JP asked.
“No, we weren’t playin’ bingo, but we were there,” Willie said. “We don’t play, but most Tuesdays we help set up the chairs and then break them down. The padre feeds us sandwiches for dinner, and then whatever is left of the sandwiches we get to take home. It was especially good when we had the kids living with us. Yep, they really looked forward to bingo night.”
Before JP could ask another question, Willie swung around and made a little hop like a two-year-old kid seeing a new puppy. His face lit up and he pointed toward the street. “There they are.”
Willie and Debbie started toward the children. Bob followed. JP remained behind. The children ran toward them and Holly jumped in her dad’s arms. He swung her around and carried her back to the picnic table. Bradley walked with his mother, holding her hand. Bob spoke with the man who had transported the children and then went to his car and retrieved something from his trunk.
Willie set Holly down and gave Bradley a hug. “Daddy has a surprise for you. Wait here.”
Willie went to help Bob and they soon returned with a birthday cake and Bob’s Les Paul acoustic guitar. Bob set the cake on the table and opened the bag his wife, Marilee, had sent with paper plates, forks, a knife, and candles.
Holly’s eyes widened. “Are you going to sing for us, Daddy?”
“Yep, you bet, Pumpkin,” Willie said. “First, we’ll have some birthday cake and then we’ll have some music.”
Debbie put the candles on the cake and lit them. The family all sang “Happy Birthday” together. Bob joined them; JP mumbled a few of the words. Then the twins blew out the candles simultaneously.
“Can we have some cake now?” Bradley asked.
“First, your gift.” Debbie handed each of them a gift bag. “It’s not much, you know. But we wanted to get you a little something. And you know you can’t have too many things at Polinsky or they’ll just get stolen.”
“Yep, that’s right. We’ll get you somethin’ real nice for your birthday when you come home. Maybe dirt bikes or somethin’. Would you like that?”
Bob and JP both knew there wouldn’t ever be a dirt bike. JP wondered if the kids knew, too, or if they just hoped each time would be different. But JP suspected everything about their life was a series of empty promises. Were the children used to it? Perhaps Willie’s childhood was like that as well.
“That would be cool, Dad.” Bradley said.
“Yeah, Dad. I’d like that too. Then when I race Bradley and I beat him, I bet he won’t call me a girl.”
Willie gently grabbed Holly’s chin and pulled her face upward. “And a beautiful girl you are,” he said.
Bob whispered to JP. “Just when I want to reprimand him for the dirt bike thing he goes and says something appropriate. A voice of reason in a wilderness of pain.”
Both children sat holding their gift bags without opening them until Debbie said, “Go ahead. Open them up."
Bradley reached in his bag and pulled out a blue Hot Wheels car. It looked like a vintage Pontiac. He smiled. “This is nice. Thanks.”
When Holly retrieved her diary from her bag she smiled broadly and said, “Wow, I really wanted one of these.”
“I know,” Debbie said. “And you can write in it every day if you want.”
JP was impressed. They were simple little gifts, but the children seemed genuinely appreciative. He wondered how many children from well-to-do homes would be pleased with such modest gifts.
Debbie served them all cake. They chattered about Polinsky and about their siblings. Both parents started many sentences with, “When you come home….” JP counted at least seven of them. Each time Bob would shake his head at Willie or Debbie, but it didn’t seem to register that it might be hard on the children since they weren’t coming home any time soon. On the other hand, Debbie and Willie seemed sincerely happy to be with their children. They obviously loved them, even if they hadn’t been able to provide a safe environment for them.
“Okay, now for your best birthday present.” Willie reached down and picked up Bob’s guitar. For the first time since they had arrived, Willie sat down on the bench of the picnic table. Debbie stood next to him. The twins scampered around in front of him and sat on the grass. He started to play. His fingers moved with precision along the strings like he had been playing all his life. The children looked up at him in awe.
Bob nodded his head in a gesture of pleasant surprise. “You’re very good, Willie.”
Willie said, “Yep.” And then he sang and it was beautiful, a real Susan Boyle moment. He was truly gifted.
When it came time to leave, Willie cried. Holly hung on to him so tightly it appeared they would have to be pried apart. Tears rolled down her little face as she sobbed. Finally, Bob coaxed her to let go and after the children left Bob reminded Willie again that he needed to make parting a little easier or the social worker might try to curtail his visits.
As JP and Bob walked to the car, Bob said, “I hope their alibi checks out. Regina, Debbie’s attorney, said Debbie had told her earlier that they were at the church on bingo night.”
“I hope so, too.” JP paused. “Willie sure doesn’t have the voice of a killer.
”
***
The church steeple stood tall against the blue sky. The cross at the top extended up another fifteen feet. Stained glass windows displayed splashes of color along the side of each wall. JP pulled into the parking lot and walked toward the rectory. He was greeted by a man wearing a light, solid blue shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes.
“May I help you?” the man asked.
“I’m looking for Father Maher.”
“You found him,” the priest said.
“I’m JP Torn.” They shook hands. “I’m the investigator for Attorney Sabre Brown and we’re representing some children in a juvenile dependency case. I was hoping you could answer a few questions for me.”
“Are they parishioners?”
“I’m not certain.” JP looked pensive. He hadn’t asked Willie if they were. It didn’t seem relevant at the time, but still, that’s a question that he should’ve asked. He felt a little uncomfortable that he wasn’t paying close enough attention to details. He gave the priest the names.
“Ahh…Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler. Quite a flock they have. The good Lord certainly made that woman fertile. Interesting family. Good about attending church, but always late. They were lucky if they made it to mass before Communion some Sundays. But I guess when you have to get that many ready and moving it can’t be easy.”
“That would be them, Father.”
“I heard the children had been removed again.”
“That’s correct. What I’m here about today is your Bingo Night last Tuesday. Willie and Debbie claim to have been here helping with the event.”
“Yes, they don’t miss many Bingo Nights. They are quite helpful, actually. They take a few too many cigarette breaks for my liking, but since they’re volunteering their time, I can’t really complain. When they first started helping they brought the whole brood with them, but we had to stop that since they weren’t getting much done. They spent the whole time chasing after the kids. I limited their helpers to two of the children and they had to be at least nine years old. They rotated the kids and most of them seemed to like to help. The younger twins were exceptionally good. I would give the Wheelers the leftover sandwiches to take home to the rest of the children. They all seemed to appreciate it.”
The Advocate's Ex Parte (The Advocate Series Book 5) Page 12