The Advocate's Conviction (6 page)

The detective wrote something down on her notepad. “We have someone at his mom’s house right now. He’s not there and it appears he hasn’t been there.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Unless she’s lying to us.”

Gillian walked toward where the foster mother was sitting.

The detective spoke again. “The social worker says this is a satanic ritual case. Do you know if it ties into the house with the pentagram that was just on the news?”

“The evidence of satanic ritual abuse consists of a finding of chicken feet and goat blood in the Johnson house. That’s all we have. I have a private investigator on it as well and we haven’t come up with anything else yet. So, I really don’t know anything more than that. It worries me, though, that there may be a connection.” Sabre took a deep breath. “Do you think someone may have kidnapped him?”

“We haven’t ruled it out, but he did take his backpack with him and some food was missing out of the refrigerator. That’s the main reason we think he’s a runaway, but someone could’ve set it up so it just looked that way.”

9

Anxious to finally get to the gym, JP pulled into the parking lot, opened his trunk and placed his Stetson in it, and walked towards the door. His phone rang. Sabre was frantic. She explained to him what she knew about Cole’s disappearance. Before JP even hung up from the call, he had started to walk back toward his car. His workout would have to wait.

JP met Sabre at the foster home so he could obtain first-hand information from the foster family and the investigating officer.

“Does he have any money?” JP asked.

The foster mother shook her head. “Not that I know of. I checked my purse and I still have cash, but I don’t know how much I had. If he did take any, it wasn’t much.”

JP put his arm around Sabre. “Hey, kid, I know you’re worried.”

“What if this satanic ritual thing is real? What if someone has taken him?”

“I know it’s scary and I’m going to do whatever I can. The cops will be looking for foul play so I’m first going to hit the ground looking in places he may be hiding. And I’ll try to follow up on this ritual thing … whatever it is, but we really have very little to go on there.”

JP started his hunt. He canvassed the neighborhood questioning everyone he could, adults and children, but he couldn’t find anyone who knew Cole. He hadn’t been in the home long enough to become acquainted, and no one had seen anything suspicious in the night or early morning.

JP stomped through all the local parks and looked inside the boys’ bathrooms, covered the local school grounds and ball fields, and questioned everyone he saw, but found nothing that led him to Cole. He seemed to have vanished.

Satisfied he wasn’t going to find Cole on his local search, JP called Bob. “I’d like to speak to your client, Cole’s mother, at her home. Would you like to go with me?”

“Sure. I think Mrs. Johnson would appreciate it. We’re all on the same side, at least for the moment.”

“I’m in Chula Vista. I’ll swing by and pick you up.”

“How about if I meet you in Fashion Valley? It’ll save you a little time. In front of Bloomingdales?”

“That would be great. Who knows how much time we have.”

JP drove to Fashion Valley, picked Bob up, and they started the thirty-minute trek to Vista.

“How is the Mom taking this?” JP asked.

“Like any concerned mother. She’s devastated. She has no car or means to search by herself. Besides, the cops told her to stay home in case he found his way there.”

“You don’t think he has contacted her?”

“I don’t think he could. She has no phone. She used the cop’s phone to call me. The neighbors aren’t real close and besides, she didn’t think Cole had any of the neighbors’ numbers.”

The GPS said to exit on Deer Springs Road and go west. JP followed the road around some curves and then turned right onto another street.

An odor of sulfur filled the air just before they reached a hand-painted sign that said, “Eggs for sale.” In smaller writing scrawled underneath it read, “Chickens too.” About a half mile later they pulled up to a small dilapidated house.

“This is the address,” JP said. “She’s really out in the sticks, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, it’s no wonder she has such a hard time using the bus service to go see her kids.”

Leanne Johnson came out of the house before they reached the door. “Did you find Cole?”

Bob answered, “No, I’m sorry, Leanne. We don’t have any leads yet. That’s why we’re here.” He nodded his head toward JP. “This is JP, a private investigator. He’s working for Cole’s attorney and trying to find your son. He’d like to ask you some questions if you don’t mind.”

“Sure.” Tears were welling up in Leanne’s already red and swollen eyes. She opened the front door. “Please come in and sit down.”

JP and Bob walked into a small living room with a sofa, chair, and a television smaller than JP had seen in a really long time. It made him feel a little guilty about his forty-two-inch plasma. The kitchen sat off to the left, which was small and meager but clean. JP stuck his head into the kitchen.

“He’s not here. God, I wish he was. You can look around if you’d like. The cops already did that, but feel free.”

JP responded, “No, that won’t be necessary.” He paused. “Unless you think he could’ve gotten in here without you knowing it.”

“The place isn’t that big.”

“Mrs. Johnson, has Cole ever run away before?”

“No, never. He’s a really good boy. Oh, he fights with Hayden a lot, but Hayden usually antagonizes him. And mostly, they just wrestle.”

“What about Cole’s father? Any chance he may have taken Cole from the foster home?”

“That creep. I wish. At least it would be better than Cole being out there all by himself. Although, just barely, when I think about it.”

“How do you know he’s not with him?”

“His dad’s not around. I’m sure he doesn’t even know where the kids are. He left us about a year ago.”

“What else can you tell us about his father?” JP made a few notes in his notebook. “Do you have an address?”

“No, this was his last address. He’s probably living on the streets. He kept crawling deeper into the bottle, and he had started getting more abusive. I finally couldn’t take it anymore. One night he yanked me around by my arm and pushed me into the stove. I sprained my wrist and burnt my arm.” She pulled her sleeve back to expose the scar from the burn. “The kids were setting him off a lot easier and I was afraid he was going to start hurting them. So the next morning when he was sober, I asked him to leave. I haven’t seen or heard from him since.”

“What about friends of Cole? Is there anyone close around here that he played with?”

“There’s not really anyone his age close enough to hang out with. He played mostly with his brother, Hayden. And he was a big help around the house. He did a lot of chores for a little guy.”

“What about school friends?”

“There was one kid he talked about a lot. His name is Jacob. But that’s about all I know. He never came to visit Cole, and Cole never went to his house. They just hung out at school.”

“Do you have any relatives that he might contact?”

“There’s no one local. Their dad’s family is from Arkansas and I don’t have much family at all. I have an aunt who lives in Riverside, Aunt Ella.”

“Do you think he might try to call her?”

“He might. He may even remember her number.”

“Would you like to call her to see if she has heard from him?” JP handed her his cell phone.

“Thank you.” Leanne punched in the numbers. “I hope I don’t upset her. She’s seventy-two-years old and not in the best of health; otherwise, she would’ve taken the children herself.”

JP and Bob listened as Leanne spoke to her aunt. They could tell by her side of the conversation that it wasn’t good news. Leanne hung up, shook her head, and said, “Nope.”

10

JP checked with the neighbors to see if anyone had seen Cole and also if they knew a boy named Jacob, hoping he rode Cole’s bus. With the information he gathered from the other students who rode the bus, he was able to track the route to the school. He finally found someone who knew someone who knew Jacob.

It was nearly eight o’clock and dark by the time he approached Jacob’s house, which was directly across the street from the elementary school. A gangly, freckle-faced boy with red hair answered the door.

“Are you Jacob?” JP asked.

“Yes.”

“Are your parents home?”

“Dad,” Jacob yelled. “Someone wants you.”

A short, slightly overweight man in his forties walked out onto the porch. In his right hand were a pair of metal tongs with grease dripping from them. JP introduced himself and explained he was there looking for a lost child, Cole Johnson. “Do you mind if I ask Jacob a few questions?”

“No, not at all,” Albert said. He then turned to Jacob and said, “Have you heard from Cole?”

Jacob shrugged his shoulders and said, “No.”

Holding Jacob’s gaze, Albert pointed the tongs at him and said, “You better not be lying to me, kid. This boy’s life could be in danger.”

“I’m not lying. I don’t know where he is.”

Jacob’s eyes opened wider and his mouth turned down. He took a step back from his father. His father reached out with his left hand and grabbed him by the arm, yanking him forward until he was within a few inches of his face. “Do you know where Cole is?”

Tears started to well up in Jacob’s eyes. “Honest, Dad. I don’t know. He left school a couple days ago. I haven’t seen him since.”

JP stepped forward turning toward the father. “Do you mind if I speak to him alone for a minute?” He lowered his voice to almost a whisper. “Sometimes kids will tell me things they may not want to tell their parents.”

Albert nodded his head. “Yeah, you’re right. Go ahead.” He turned to walk off and then he looked at Jacob and shook the tongs at him. “You tell him the truth now.” He was still looking back at Jacob as he entered the house.

JP sat down on the wooden railing and coaxed Jacob into taking a seat near him. “Look, Jacob, I’m not here to hurt you. You’re not going to get in trouble if you tell me where Cole is. There are people looking all over the city for him and we just want him returned safely.”

Jacob shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him.”

“Have you talked to him since he left school?”

“No.”

“Has Cole ever been to your house?”

Jacob put his head down, avoiding eye contact with JP, and shook his head from side to side. JP reached under his chin and gently pulled his head up with one finger. “Jacob, please tell me when he was here. I won’t tell your father.”

Jacob looked toward the door and back and said, “Sometimes, at lunch, we sneak off the playground and go to my house to play video games. But we almost got caught last week, so we haven’t done it since. And then a couple of days ago, Cole left school. I didn’t even know he was leaving.”

“I know. There have been a few family problems that Cole’s mom has to take care of.”

“Is he coming back?”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry. I wish I could tell you more.” JP stood up and took a business card out of his pocket. He handed it to Jacob. “Please call me, or have your father call me, if you hear from Cole, okay? It’s really important. His mom is really worried about him.”

Jacob took the card, holding it with both hands. He bent it back and forth. “I’ll call,” he said.

JP leaned in toward Jacob. “Will you be all right when you go inside with your father?”

“Oh yeah. He yells a lot since mom divorced him, but he’s okay.”

JP waited until Jacob went in the house and then he lingered for a few minutes to see if he heard any yelling. It was quiet. JP walked to his car thinking he was pretty certain Jacob was telling the truth. Before he started his car, his phone rang.

“Hi, Sabre. I’m sorry, I’m just hitting dead …”

“JP,” Sabre said interrupting him, “Bailey’s missing.”

11

Sabre drove up to the home where Bailey lived with her mother. JP hadn’t arrived yet, but she knew he was close behind. Sabre walked across the dead lawn and up to the door. The house was in serious need of paint, and the broken glass formed a sharp point in the front window. The dilapidated door opened slightly as Sabre knocked on it.

“Who is it?” a man yelled over the loud eighties music that emanated from the house.

“I’m Bailey Lecy’s attorney,” Sabre yelled back. “Is she here?”

No one responded. About thirty seconds passed before an emaciated looking, unshaven man came to the door. His shirtless body bared a large, poorly drawn scorpion tattoo across his chest, and his pants hung below his waist showing the top of his green boxer shorts. His disheveled hair almost reached his shoulders. The front hung down partly blocking the glazed look in his eyes. When he opened his mouth to speak, black holes on each side of his mouth appeared where teeth once were.