The Advocate's Ex Parte (The Advocate Series Book 5) (22 page)

Sabre waited for a moment. The man said, “Thanks,” to Tracie and he left.

“What are you doing here?” Tracie asked abruptly. She waved her hands in a dismissal gesture. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound rude. I’m just surprised.”

“You called me and then you hung up. I was concerned.”

“Everything’s good. I shouldn’t have called.”

Sabre stepped closer to the desk where Tracie sat. “Tracie,” Sabre said softly. “What is it? What do you know that you need to tell me?”

“It’s probably nothing.”

“Why don’t you tell me and let me decide.”

Tracie fiddled with her hair, twisting it around and around her finger, letting it go, and then doing it again.

“What is it, Tracie?”

“I’m afraid.”

“Afraid of who?”

“I’m not afraid of someone. I’m afraid that if I’m wrong, it could hurt someone.”

Sabre put her hands on the edge of the desk and leaned in a little toward Tracie. “Do you think you’re wrong about what you saw or heard?”

“No, I know what I saw. But what if I’m wrong about what it all means?” Tracie stumbled over each word.

“Just tell me what you saw. I don’t need to know what you think it means. Just breathe…and talk to me.”

Tracie took a deep breath. “You know how Matt said he filed that form about the missing bat the day after the game?”

“Yes,” Sabre said gently.

“He didn’t.”

“And how do you know that? I thought you said you didn’t remember filing it?”

“I didn’t file it. That’s just it. Friday, the day of the Poway game, I went through the file in Coach Arviso’s desk and removed all the old forms. Only one recent form remained in the file and it was for a missing basketball. On Tuesday afternoon just before I left for the day, I filed all the new forms that had been filled out. There were three of them and none of those was from Matt. Matt’s form for the bat didn’t show up until later. We discovered it when your PI was here talking to Coach Arviso.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“Because I didn’t really think it mattered until I remembered something else.”

“What was that?”

“On Wednesday morning, the day after Hannah and Mason were killed, I was alone in the office and I went outside for my break, but I forgot my soda and I came back in through that door over there.” She pointed to the door behind her desk. “We always keep that door closed and locked, but I have a key.”

Sabre leaned in and listened.

“When I came back in I was behind this file cabinet.” Tracie stood up and positioned herself behind the cabinet. “I could see right through that big glass window, but no one could see me.” She stopped.

“Tracie, what did you see?”

“I saw Matt Durham. He was leaving this office and he had a paper in his hand. He went across the hall to Coach Arviso’s office. He looked around and then he went inside. He stayed in there for about a minute or two. He peeked out of the door before he came out, and then he hurried away.”

“Did he have the paper in his hand when he came out?”

“No.” She twisted her hair again.

At first Sabre wondered why Tracie stood so long behind the file cabinet watching Matt, but then she remembered what it was like to be a teenage girl and have a crush on a guy. And at that point in time Tracie had no reason to believe Matt was a cold-blooded killer.

***

Bob was on the opposite side of the basketball courts when Sabre walked out of the gym area. He walked across and met her.

“He killed those kids,” Sabre said quietly.

“Who?”

“Matt. He killed Hannah and Mason. He beat them to death with a bat,” she said disgustingly.

“So? You already knew he did it. What’s the big deal?”

Sabre took a deep breath and blew it out. “I guess I knew it, but now I
know
I know it.” She threw her hands up. “And I didn’t want to know it. I think what bothers me most is Matt’s reaction to the photo of Hannah. I can’t get that out of my mind. You should’ve seen the look on his face when he saw her bloody, battered body. How did he become such a monster?”

As they started walking across the campus toward the parking lot Bob broke the disquieting silence. “Some people are just monsters,” he said. “This isn’t anything new. The history books are filled with them: Jack the Ripper, Ted Bundy, Jeffrey Dahmer, Hannibal Lector.”

Sabre chuckled in spite of her anger. “Hannibal Lector isn’t a real guy.”

“No, but he’s like the real guys. They’re just evil. I think it’s in their DNA.”

“It just seems like there’s more now than there used to be.”

“There’s more people now. Hence, more monsters.”

“Yeah, but this is
my
monster. I’m representing him.”

Bob looked directly at her. “You know the drill. You take your clients as they come to you. You represent them, protect their constitutional rights, and let the chips fall. You do the best job you can. Chances are he’ll be convicted and justice will be served.” He paused. “Or, better yet, you let someone else represent him when he goes downtown to be tried as an adult.”

“That’s just the thing. I considered letting someone else take over if we lost the 702 hearing, but that’s before I was convinced he did it. Now that I know, I don’t feel right about it. I’ve never let someone go just because I knew they were guilty. That’s not why I represent these kids. And now I don’t know which would be worse: to represent him and maybe win, only to have him kill somebody else, or drop him as my client, knowing that it goes against everything I believe in.”

Bob put his arm around her. “I’m sorry, snookums.”

Chapter 37

The Martinez Case

Children: Ray, age 2 (M), Falicia, age 5 (F), Jesse (Jesus), age 7 (M)

Parents: Father—Gilberto Martinez, Mother—Juanita Martinez

Issues: Abuse, Domestic Violence

Facts: Mother beat the father with a lamp in front of the children. Alcohol abuse by both parents.

JP only had a few hours before the Martinez trial and Sabre needed answers. She needed to be convinced that Juanita was not involved in the death of Judge Mitchell or she couldn’t comfortably encourage the reunification of her with her children. JP had already established that Reyna Garcia had no other vehicles registered in his or her name, whatever she was. He had spoken to some of Reyna’s neighbors and determined that Reyna wanted to have a sex change, but couldn’t afford the surgery, and that she always dressed in women’s clothes.

With a photograph of Reyna and her car, JP went back to Juanita’s next-door neighbor, the old Mexican-American woman with whom he had spoken before. He knocked and she recognized him the moment she opened it.

“How is Jesse doing?” she asked. “And the other children?”

“Very well. They seem real happy with their aunt.”

“Good. I wish I would’ve known you were coming a little sooner; I would’ve baked them some cookies for you to take to them.”

“I apologize. I had to do this at the last minute.” JP handed her the photo of Reyna. Do you recognize this wom…person?”

“Yes, that’s the woman I told you about who came here with Juanita.”

“Was anyone else with Juanita?”

“No, this woman came twice. Once she went in; the other time she started up the walk and then turned around. Those are the only times Juanita has been here since they took the kids.”

JP showed the woman a picture of Reyna’s car. “Is this the car she was driving?”

The woman shook her head. “I don’t know. It could be, but I’m not sure. I didn’t see it that well.”

JP thanked her and went across the street to see Patricia, whom he had talked to before as well.

“Have you seen Juanita since we last spoke?” JP asked.

“No. I just saw her that Tuesday evening that I told you about.”

“What time was that again?”

“It was around six o’clock when I saw her leave, a little before, maybe. I don’t know exactly.”

“And she left in a car, right?”

“Right.”

JP handed her both photos with the car on top. “Is this the car?”

“Yes,” she said without any hesitation. “That’s the car.” She shuffled the photos. “And that’s the woman who was driving the car.”

From there, JP drove over to the drug facility where Juanita had gone when she finished her conjugal visit with Gilberto at their home that Tuesday afternoon. After questioning several people, he discovered a clerk in the thrift store next door who had just arrived for work that Tuesday evening when Juanita was returning. He looked to be about forty, his eyes were somewhat droopy, and his forehead was a little large. His speech patterns were slow, but he seemed to understand everything that JP asked and he answered coherently.

JP gave him the date again and asked him if he was certain he was there that night.

“Oh, yes,” the man said. “It was my first night working.”

JP took out the two photos: the one of Reyna and the one of the car. Then he opened his file and turned to a photo of Juanita. “Did you see this car or either of these two people that night?”

“Oh, yes. They were here.”

“Do you know what time it was?”

“Six o'clock.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“Oh, yes. I started work at six.” He pointed at the photo. “Before I went inside, this car drove up. Right in front of the store.”

“Did you talk to them?”

The man pointed to the photo of Juanita. “That woman went inside…there.” He pointed to the building next door.

“And the other woman? Did she get out?”

“Oh, no. But I could see she was real pretty. She said ‘hello.’ And then I said ‘hello.’ And then she left.”

***

Sabre and JP walked upstairs in the juvenile courthouse and took a seat in the hallway on a bench near the wall. There were few places that afforded any privacy for the attorneys to talk with their clients or witnesses, especially if they chose to sit down. The choices consisted of a bench in a corner of the hallway across from one of the courtrooms, outside along the side of the building on a vacant planter, or upstairs in the massive hallway before it filled with other attorneys trying to do the same thing.

“You look upset. Is something wrong?” JP asked.

Sabre sighed and took a deep breath. “I just came from the high school Matt Durham attended, more specifically, from the Coach Arviso’s office. The girl that works there, Tracie Rodrigues, told me that Matt was in her office and then in the coach’s office the day
after
Hannah and Mason were killed.” Her face reddened as she spoke.

“So?”

“So, the form for his missing baseball bat wasn’t in the file
before
the murders. Matt didn’t file it after the Poway game like he said he did.”

JP nodded his head one time. “Uh…huh.”

Sabre stood up and her voice rose. “That’s all you have, ‘uh…huh.’ JP, he killed those kids and then filed the form for his missing bat to pin it on Darren.”

“I already knew he killed those kids.
You
already knew he killed those kids. Why is this bothering you so much now?”

Sabre snapped at him. “Dammit, JP, you sound just like Bob.” She sat back down. After a few seconds, she sighed. “I’m sorry. Please tell me you found out something definitive on Martinez. I need to know if Juanita was involved in the death of Judge Mitchell. It makes a big difference on how I proceed on the trial this afternoon.”

“I don’t think she had anything to do with it. I’m pretty certain she was with her friend Reyna. And the car they were in did not have any recent damage.”

“
Pretty
certain?”

“As much as I can be. Some of the witnesses are a little shaky, but there are enough of them to corroborate the facts. I’m convinced she didn’t have anything to do with the judge’s death.”

“Alright, I’m trusting your judgment. Let’s do this.”

They walked downstairs to Department One. There was still not a permanent judge in Department Three, Judge Mitchell’s courtroom, so Judge Hekman agreed to hear the trial. Juanita, Gilberto, and the maternal aunt, Nora, were all outside the courtroom. The children were upstairs with the social worker awaiting their time to testify. Sabre had talked to them earlier and tried to alleviate some of their fears of appearing in court. She didn’t feel all that successful.

JP waited with the other witnesses and Sabre went inside the courtroom. County Counsel Elsa Norbeck sat at the table with Bob, the mother’s attorney. Sabre was glad to see Elsa on the case. Elsa was no pushover, she was always reasonable, and Sabre liked her. Elsa and Sabre had started practicing at juvenile court about the same time. They were both members of a panel of attorneys who were qualified to accept cases appointed by the court. All of the attorneys on the panel were in private practice and worked independently, so they often found themselves working together on one case and fighting each other on the next. After a few years, Elsa applied for a job with County Counsel. Sabre remained on the panel. But Elsa never forgot what it was like to represent the parents or the children, even though she now sat on the other side of the table.

“I think we’re all here,” Elsa said.

“No, Wags just left,” Bob said. Wags was the affectionate term Bob used for Richard A. Wagner, the attorney for Mr. Martinez. “We need him, unless you just want to give these kids back to this lovely couple and we can all go home?”

“Yeah, like that’s gonna happen,” Elsa said.

Mike McCormick, the bailiff, stood up from his post. “I’ll get him.”

Elsa turned to face Bob. “Seriously, Bob, can this be settled?”

“Let me see. You want to take jurisdiction, place the kids with the maternal aunt, and have limited supervised visitation with the parents. The parents want no jurisdiction, the kids returned, and DSS out of their hair. Nope, we don’t sound very close.” Bob smiled. “But with you two reasonable attorneys on the case,” he glanced from Elsa to Sabre, “yeah, maybe, but we also need Wags here.”