The Advocate - 02 - The Advocate's Betrayal (17 page)

“Yeah.” Bob sat back in his chair and looked out at JP’s backyard, taking a drink of his vodka. “So, how about those Padres, huh?”

“They’re actually on a winning streak. We might have a good season this year—that is, until the Dodgers come to town.”

“Oh, you and your Dodgers.”

“Sabre would agree with me. She likes the Dodgers, but then she has better taste than you.”

“Yeah, and you like Sabre. You better make your move pretty soon. Luke’s getting awfully sweet on her.”

“No. I’ve decided to let it go. She deserves more than I can give her. Let her see if Luke is the one for her…but if that jerk ever hurts her, I’ll kill him.”

“Yeah, you’re a tough guy.” Bob stood up. “I have to go. Marilee’s expecting me to be on time for dinner tonight. I’ve been working late everyday this week, so I better get a move on.”

“No problem. I think I’ll go have a chat with Betty before visiting hours are over.”

“That’s probably a good idea. Maybe she’ll tell you something she wouldn’t tell Sabre.”

“Unlikely, but worth a shot.”

“Thanks for the drink.” Bob walked toward the slider. JP followed him inside and to the front door.

“Anytime. Next time you visit, though, I’m going to have some nice American vodka. No more of that foreign stuff.”

JP sat in the waiting room chatting with the guard until he saw the nurse leave Betty’s room. When he walked in, she smiled uncomfortably.

“Hi, Betty. How you feeling?” JP asked.

“A little better than I did yesterday.”

“You’re looking good. Lots of color in your cheeks.”

“Thanks.”

“You getting lots of rest?”

“Yes, that’s all I do.”

JP tried to follow what he knew would be Sabre’s wishes and go easy on Betty, but he was too frustrated. “Look Betty, I’m sorry, but I’m going to get right to the point. You’ve got to start leveling with us.”

Betty’s face turned red. She looked around. “About what?”

“About everything.” JP remained calm. “I need the truth if you want me to find John’s…er…I mean Jim’s killer.”

“What’s not the truth?”

JP raised his voice a little and tried to keep eye contact with her. “Well, for starters there is no delinquent tax problem with either you or John Smith, at least not under the social security numbers you gave us.”

Betty shifted in her bed, but didn’t look away. “I’m sorry, but that is the problem. Jim used a different social security number when he changed his name to John Smith.”

“How did he get another number?”

“I have no idea. He said something about a friend getting it for him. He didn’t really want me to know stuff like that. He said the less I knew, the better. He was trying to protect me.”

JP leaned in a little closer. “From what?”

“From the IRS.”

“So you had delinquent taxes under the names Jim and Betty Taylor?”

“James, but yes.”

“So, it should show up under
your
social security number then?”

She hesitated. “No, Jim changed mine too.”

“That’s easy. I’ll check under your old numbers, the ones for Jim and Betty Taylor. What are the numbers?” JP picked up his pen and opened a notepad ready to write.

Betty was offended, or afraid and acted offended. JP couldn’t tell which. “I don’t know them by heart. I’d have to look them up,” she said.

“You tell me where they are in your house and I’ll go get them for you.”

“Actually, I don’t know if I even have them on anything. We destroyed all our old papers and such when we took on the new identity.”

JP sighed, taking another tack. “Betty, I need a little help here.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s all I’ve got.”

JP looked at his notes and then said, “Okay, let’s talk about your birth records. I can’t find anything on Jim or James Taylor in or around Charleston, West Virginia. Are you sure that’s where he was born?”

“That’s what he told me, but they were dirt poor. He was born at home; maybe nothing was recorded.”

“Well, what about you?”

“What about me?”

“I checked Charleston. I checked Cabin Creek. I checked all around there. The only thing I found was a child named Betty J. Johnson on your birth date born in Cabin Creek to Ed and Virginia Johnson.”

Betty perked up. “That’s me. Those were my parents.”

“No.” JP shook his head. “That baby died.”

“That can’t be. I’m obviously here. That’s me. There must have been a mistake made back then. Maybe I was sick or something. Maybe the authorities thought I died and I didn’t.” Betty’s voice escalated. “Maybe someone just screwed up the paper work or mixed up the names. Johnson is a pretty common name. I don’t know, but I’m here. That’s me.”

“Okay, calm down.” JP patted her arm. “I’m sorry I upset you. I’m just trying to keep you out of prison.”

Tears welled up in Betty’s eyes. “I don’t care if I’m in jail. John’s gone.”

JP pressed on. “So, just level with me. Tell me what you’re hiding.”

“I can’t.” Betty said loudly. Her eyes opened wider, seemingly surprised at her own words. “I mean…I’ve told you all there is.”

19

Sabre woke up Friday morning about six o’clock, cursing because she could’ve slept in. It was the first weekday she hadn’t had court in months. Her body seemed heavy and in need of some serious sleep. She had tossed most of the night dreaming about Luke, Betty, and John. She had a nightmare about John coming to life and Betty attacking him, while Luke stood behind them saying, “Forget them, Sabre, because I love you. That’s all that counts.” Her stomach was churning and her mouth tasted like rotten avocados. She ran to the bathroom but was unable to vomit. She lay back down and tried to stop the room from spinning. After a few minutes she fell back to sleep. When the sun started to come in through the window, Sabre arose with a start. She quickly dressed, grabbed her files, and started off to visit the minors’ homes she had scheduled earlier in the week. She needed to accomplish something, not sit at home dwelling on things.

Her first stop was to see a twelve-year-old girl in a group home. She’d been doing so well in her foster home up until about a week prior. She had lived in that home for over five years. A few years back, they even spoke of adopting her, but her addicted mother and her petty-crime committing father managed to have enough involvement in her life to prevent losing their parental rights. Last week the foster parents announced their intention to leave the state, and their plans didn’t include taking the girl with them. She ran away before she could be placed in another home, stole some clothes from a department store, and landed in the group home. Sabre stayed with her for over an hour, listening to her rant about how she hated all the adults in her life, and how she couldn’t wait to leave the system and live on her own. All Sabre could do for her was to listen and assure her she’d make every attempt to find her a better placement. This was the part of her job that was so hard, but it was also a driving force to keep her going, to keep her protecting the silent voices of children.

From there Sabre drove to see a one-week-old baby born addicted to drugs, three siblings who had been physically abused by their step-father, a five-year-old whose father thought the child was a Chihuahua and was feeding him dog food, and a three-year-old whose baby brother was knocked out of the crib and suffered a broken neck when their parents got in a fist fight.

You’d think I’d be used to all the violence
, Sabre thought, as she drove from one foster home to another,
but when those kids tell me what happened, I still get that sick feeling in my gut.
Sabre realized the feeling she had in her stomach had turned from nausea to an emotional ball. She hurt for the kids. Although she was still very tired, at least she didn’t feel like throwing up.

Colin Raye’s song, “If You Get There Before I Do” played on her telephone. Luke had programmed her phone with the song so she’d know by the ringtone when he called. She had not answered his last two calls, and she wasn’t exactly sure why.

Sabre took a deep breath. “Hi, Luke.”

“Hi, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I haven’t felt that well the last two days and I’ve been crazy busy. I should’ve called you back last night, but by the time I got home I was exhausted. I just fell into bed.”

“I’m sorry you’re sick.”

“I’m doing better now, thanks.”

“Are you up to having a visitor tonight? I’m leaving Monday morning for Dallas and would like to spend as much time with you this weekend as I can before I go.”

Sabre decided she needed to face him and deal with her feelings. She couldn’t keep hiding. “Sure, that would be great. So, you got that assignment you were talking about?”

“Yeah, it looks like a good one. I’ll tell you all about it when I get there. How about four o’clock? We can catch an early dinner and then maybe just stay in and watch a movie or something.”

“That….

“Better yet, I’ll bring you some chicken soup.”

Sabre thought how thoughtful he was and felt better about her decision to see him. “Wonderful. That’s just what I need.” She started to hang up. “Wait, I have to start moving my things into my condo this weekend. And you said you’d help, remember?”

“I didn’t forget. It’ll just give us an earlier start tomorrow morning.”

Sabre finished her home visits; drove to the hospital to check on Betty, who was sleeping; and then stopped at The Coffee Bean for a meeting with JP.

“You feeling okay? You look pale,” JP said when Sabre walked in. He handed her a cup of decaf mocha.

She smiled at him. “Thanks, that was very sweet of you.”

They walked to the big stuffed chairs in the front of the coffee shop and sat down facing each other. “Yeah, that’s what Aunt Opal always said.”

Sabre laughed. He knew how to make her smile. She looked at his rugged, sincere face and thought he’d make some lucky woman a good mate. Wondering what brought on that feeling, she shrugged it off and said, “What do you have for me?”

“Well, I received the copy of the birth certificate on Betty J. Johnson from Cabin Creek. It lists Betty’s parents, but it says the baby was stillborn.”

“Couldn’t they have made a mistake?”

“I suppose. Not exactly sure how, but anything is possible. And Betty swears that’s her.”

Sabre took a drink of her coffee. “I went by the hospital to see her today.”

“Did you get any more information?”

“No, I went as a friend. I just wanted to see how she was doing.”

“And, how is she?”

“She’s getting a little better every day. I almost don’t want her to recover because she’ll have to go back to her cell.”

JP stroked her arm. “I’m sorry, Sabre.”

Sabre nodded her head and tightened her lips. “I know.” She blew out a short breath. “So, where do we go from here?”

“I need to go to Wisconsin.”

“Why? Betty said she never lived there.”

“She also said her husband’s name was John and she’s running from the IRS.”

Sabre looked at him, puzzled. “What do you expect to find?”

“I have no idea, but it’s all I’ve got. Rose was pretty convinced Betty had a connection there. And Betty gets befuddled whenever we bring it up.”

“She does that, for sure.”

“I’ve made a reservation for Monday morning, but if you think it’s a waste of time, I’ll cancel it.”

“No, I trust your judgment. And like you said, what else do we have? Do you want a ride? Luke is flying out Monday morning also. He’s going to Dallas on a consulting job. If you’re going early enough, I could take you both at the same time.”

“Thanks, but I’ll take my car and park it at the Park and Ride. I won’t be gone long and then no one has to pick me up.”

Sabre visited with JP until their coffee was finished. They walked to the car and JP opened her door for her. “Always the gentleman, JP. Thanks.”

“My daddy would turn over in his grave if I weren’t. We don’t want that now, do we?” He laid his hand gently on her back just before she entered the car.

20

Sabre walked to the door wearing her gray sweats with “P-I-N-K” in block letters across her butt. With her wet hair and make-up-free face, she peeked through the peephole in the front door and saw Luke standing there with a bowl in one hand and a bag in the other. When she opened the door, he quickly kissed her on the lips, stepped back and said, “You look beautiful.”

“Right…thanks. Come on in, sorry about the mess.”

He handed her the bowl. “Chicken soup, just what the doctor ordered.” He held the other bag up and waved it as he walked to the freezer. “And Haagan-Daz…Vanilla Swiss Almond.”

“Yummy, now that’s what the doctor ordered!”

Luke put the ice cream in the freezer, placed the bowl of chicken soup on the kitchen counter, and walked toward Sabre. He reached down, picked her up, and carried her into the bedroom, walking around packed boxes as he nibbled on her neck. He gently set her down on the bed, pulled her sweatshirt up over her head, and kissed her passionately, working his way down her neck and shoulders until he reached her breasts, then slowly lowering her until she was in a prone position. He stepped back for a moment while he removed his shirt. Sabre watched as he unbuttoned each button, revealing his sculptured chest. He tossed the shirt, lowered himself onto her, and placed his open mouth on hers. He kissed her gently and raised his lips slightly, just long enough to whisper, “I love you, Sabre.” Then he covered her mouth again with his, not giving her time to respond. She was relieved. She didn’t need to say anything. She wanted to. She thought she loved him, but when she tried to say the words, they stuck in her throat.

When they finished making love, they lay there in each other’s arms, her head on his chest. He stroked her hair. Sabre thought how right it felt. She wanted to tell Luke how she felt. It was time. “Luke?” Her stomach gurgled.

“Let me guess…you’re hungry. You need some of my famous chicken soup.”

Sabre chuckled. “Sounds good.”

They got up, dressed, and went into the kitchen. Luke took a pan out of the cupboard, poured the soup in it, and lit the burner.