The Advocate's Ex Parte (The Advocate Series Book 5) (31 page)

“Did you see where she went?”

“She walked real fast through an opening in the bushes and I didn’t see her again. She could’ve come back, I guess, but I didn’t see her after that. There was so much excitement and we just wanted to give Emma to someone and leave. By then, the fire department had arrived. We ran inside here, grabbed Quang’s computer, and we went to my house. They were already evacuating this place when we were leaving.”

JP picked up the photos with Mae Chu’s on top. He held it out, photo side up. “And you’re absolutely certain it was this woman?”

“Yes, I’m sure of it.”

Chapter 53

Sabre was in her office preparing for the Tran trial that was less that twenty-four hours away. She needed more information. There were still too many unanswered questions. She was debating what stand she would take on the case when her phone rang, bringing her out of her deliberation.

“Mae Chu was at Kim-Ly’s apartment when the fire started,” JP said. He went on to explain all that he had learned from Quang and his friend.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Sabre said. “The case was filed because of the fire. She wouldn’t have known about Kim-Ly yet. Do you think it’s a coincidence?”

“Highly unlikely, but I can’t imagine why she was there,” JP said.

“Now I’m more confused than ever.” Sabre sighed. “We need more answers before the trial tomorrow. Do you think you can dig up anything else?”

“I have a hunch about Jade’s location based on something Kevin, Quang’s friend, said about her. He said that she liked to pick things because she could be outside and sometimes she would eat what she picked.”

“Sounds like a farm.”

“Exactly.”

“And David Leland owns one hundred twenty acres of land in Julian.”

“That’s where I’m headed,” JP said.

“That’s a long drive.”

“I know. It’s well over an hour; that’s why I haven’t been there yet. I haven’t had the time, and it didn’t seem that important until now.”

“I’m finished with court today, so I’ll be working in the office all afternoon and evening. What can I do to help?”

“The address of the land is in my report. Can you see what you can find out about it? Is it farmland? Are there any structures on it? Anything that might help me. Also, see if you can find a connection between Kim-Ly and Mae Chu.”

Sabre called her friend Jennifer, who was delighted to research the real estate information. Sleuthing had become her latest hobby. While Sabre waited for her to call back, she decided to look for a connection between Kim-Ly and Mae Chu, other than the juvenile dependency case. She also wanted to find a possible connection to David Leland.

She glanced quickly through the information she had received from CASA, through the DSS reports, and JP’s reports. She found nothing. She started looking online for any information she could find about any of them. None of them had any social media connections. Sabre googled “Kim-Ly,” but found nothing relating to her. She googled “David Leland” and found mostly information pertaining to the dry cleaners that he owned. She had just googled “Mae Chu” when her phone rang.

“What did you find?” Sabre asked Jennifer.

“The land is not really farmland. There are some apple orchards and a lot of brush. It has two structures on the property—a house and a barn—and both were built in 1948. I’m researching a couple of other things, but they’ll take a little longer. I’ll call you back when I have them.”

Sabre called JP and gave him the information. The phone kept cutting out.

“I’m sorry, say that again. I didn’t get the last part,” JP said.

“It has a house and a barn,” Sabre said.

“Got it. The reception is real bad here. I’ll call…my way…back….” The line went dead.

***

JP drove past a field and then past the dirt road that turned into Leland’s property. The sun was beginning to set, but there was enough light to see the two buildings that were situated about a quarter of a mile from the road. Fruit trees lined the edge of the property and circled around behind the buildings. JP pulled off the road and parked his car behind some apple trees. He removed a small flashlight from the trunk and put it in his side pocket. He patted his shoulder holster to reassure himself that his HK P2000 pistol was there.

He moved stealthily through the trees toward the buildings until he was no more than fifty yards from the house. He sat down on a dead tree that had fallen on the ground, creating a bench to sit on. He had decided to just watch a while before he made any attempt to approach the house. He checked his phone. No service. He waited.

***

Sabre’s Google search turned up very little about Mae Chu. Sabre continued to look for information about her family and her father’s business. She eventually came across some articles about her mother’s murder. It appeared to be just as Lan Vong, Mae Chu’s friend, had reported. She was mugged in a parking lot in Mira Mesa and dumped some thirty miles away in San Ysidro. The case remained unsolved.

Sabre checked the criminal history online for Mae Chu, her mother, and her father. She found nothing for the first two, but her father, Tray Tran, originally spelled Trai, was arrested for a battery in March of 1995. Two months later the case was dismissed at the preliminary hearing. The judge was Lawrence Mitchell. Sabre quickly pulled up the list on her computer of the judge’s cases. She highlighted the heading marked “Date” and hit the A to Z button putting them in order from the oldest to the most recent. She scanned the list until she reached
May, 1995
. She looked carefully through the list for Trai Chu. He was not listed. She went back to March, started through the dates again until she reached the end of
June, 1995
. There was no mention of Mr. Chu. Sabre wondered why Mr. Chu wasn’t on the list when Mitchell was clearly listed as the judge on the criminal records for several hearings. She knew it was possible that Chu was accidentally left off the list, but coincidences like that didn’t set well with Sabre. She knew there had to be another explanation.

She called JP. When it went to voice mail, she said, “Mae Chu’s father, Trai Chu, had a case in front of Judge Mitchell in 1995. It was not on the judge’s list. I’m worried about you. Call me.”

***

After about half an hour, JP saw a white van pull onto the dirt road leading toward the house. It stopped in front. JP stood up and moved a little closer, taking care to remain hidden by the trees. Two men, the driver, and a passenger exited the front of the van, walked around to the back of the vehicle, and opened up the back door, which faced him. From his vantage point, JP could see directly into the van as several young girls stepped out. JP counted them as they exited. There were twelve in all.

The night was still and JP could hear the men speaking in a foreign language. The girls said nothing at all. They formed a line and walked into the house, one after another, following one of the men. The other man stayed behind them.

***

The more Sabre thought about what she had found, the more she worried about JP. She was concentrating so hard that she jumped when her phone rang. It was Jennifer.

“So, here’s what I found,” Jennifer said without any small talk. “That property in Julian was owned by a man who owned most of Julian in the fifties. His estate sold that piece of property in 1991 to Trai Chu. David Leland bought it in 2005.”

“What date was it sold?”

“June 23, 2005.”

“Thanks, Jennifer. I won’t forget this one.” Sabre hung up before she could say anything else.

She tried to reach JP again. Still no answer. She called Detective Klakken.

“I was just about to call you. They have Isaiah Banks in custody. We have him for ordering the drive-by and then killing the shooter, and we’re also pretty certain he killed the judge.”

“He didn’t do it.”

“What?”

“Kill the judge. I’m pretty certain it wasn’t him. I saw Dr. Heller and she remembered it was a black car driven by an Asian man.” She proceeded to tell Klakken everything she knew about Mae Chu and David Leland. Then she added, “And I think JP may be in trouble.”

“And where is he now?”

“He went to Leland’s property in Julian.”

“Okay, I’m on my way. I’m already in El Cajon so I’m halfway there.”

***

JP heard a twig crack behind him, but before he could turn around he felt a hard metal pipe thump him squarely on the back of his head.

Chapter 54

JP’s head pounded. He tried to remember why. He could hear men’s voices and they weren’t far away. He stayed very still and listened with his eyes closed. He was glad he did when the fog started to clear and he remembered being hit on the head. He could feel the tape that tied his hands together behind the chair he was sitting on, and it felt like tape across his mouth. His feet were also tied to the chair.

“We need to get another load,” one man said in a slight Asian accent.

“It’s getting pretty crowded in there,” another said.

“Who cares? It’s not like they can do anything. Leland will be furious if we don’t get them all.”

“What about him? Should we get rid of him?” JP figured they were talking about him. He remained still.

“No. We might need him.”

“Are we just going to leave him here?”

JP heard them walk toward him. One of them brushed against his knee. He felt a hand touch his chin. JP didn’t move. The man pushed his head upright. JP let it flop back down.

“He’ll be fine. He probably won’t even wake up. And if he does, what’s he going to do? He can’t see anything and it’s not like he’s going to hear them.” The man chuckled at his own little joke. “Besides, Tim is on watch and we’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“If you hadn’t taken so long….”

The other man said something in a foreign language and then they both laughed as they walked away. JP remained still. He heard the door open and close. He still remained immobile with his eyes closed until he heard the van drive away. Then he slowly opened his eyes. It was dark outside, but one light remained on in the house. His chair sat next to a sofa with a missing cushion. The other two cushions were dirty and torn. The room appeared to be a combination of the living room and dining room. His hands were tied together behind his back; one foot was taped to the chair; and the other foot ached worse than his head, which hurt just to lift.

Complete silence filled the room. An owl hooted outside. He wondered where the girls were and how many more there were. From the conversation he had heard, the girls were somewhere close, but why couldn’t he hear them? He had to figure out a way to break loose and he only had a couple of hours to do it, and that’s assuming Tim—whoever he was—didn’t come in to check on him.

JP wiggled his hands, but they were tied so tightly that it hurt just to move ever so slightly. He looked around for something sharp to cut himself loose, but he saw nothing. The room was sparsely furnished with just the sofa, a small table, and three dining room chairs, one of which he was tied to. There was a closed door behind him to his right and a doorway straight ahead that led to the kitchen. Through the opening he could see the counter top and a space to its left where a stove likely once sat.

The walls needed paint and the cheap linoleum on the floor was so worn in spots that the wood underneath peeked through. Most of the pattern was worn off except under the table, but the dirt and dust made that almost indiscernible.

JP’s left leg and foot were duct-taped to the chair. His knee was bent and his foot was about eight inches above the floor, so he couldn’t reach it except with the tip of his boot. His right foot was also taped to the leg of the chair, but his boot rested on the floor. He stepped down on his right foot to lift himself up with the chair. The pain shot through his foot and all the way up his leg. He was certain his big toe was broken. What the hell had they done to him while he was passed out?

He carefully bounced his way around 180 degrees so he could face the closed door. He used his toes to help balance himself as he moved, but the jarring from every bounce felt like someone was pounding him on the head and the foot at the same time.

The door had two deadbolt locks that needed keys to open them. He couldn’t tell whether or not they were locked, so he decided to see whether or not he could turn the knob. He bounced his chair until he sat directly in front of it. He leaned over and lodged the door knob between his head and shoulder and tried to turn the handle. Pain shot through his head, but he didn’t stop. It took several tries before he was actually able to turn the knob. He simultaneously pushed against the door, but it wouldn’t move.

In spite of the pounding headache, JP bounced his chair, across the floor and into the kitchen, nearly tipping over several times. Only three of the cupboards still had the doors on them. There were a refrigerator and a microwave, but there wasn’t a stove or any other appliance in the room. There were no dishes or pots and pans anywhere that he could see. All the drawers but the bottom one were missing from their cradles. JP could see inside the empty cradles, but there wasn’t anything that might be sharp enough to help him break loose.

Nearly an hour had passed since the scumbags had left, JP thought. And he was running out of ideas. He knew he couldn’t sit and do nothing so he made his way toward the front door, wondering if Tim, the lookout guy, could see him if he left. Maybe outside he could find something sharp. At least he wouldn’t be a sitting duck. He tried the same technique that he used on the other door, only this time it worked. However, he had to back up so he could open the door. He bounced a couple inches back, then a few more, until he could clear the door. He reached his right foot out, gritted his teeth, and pushed the door open. Then he worked his way to the doorway again and started out.

He looked around but couldn’t see where Tim might be positioned. JP would have to cross the porch, go down two steps and another sixty feet to the woods. The first bounce on the porch echoed in the still air as it struck the rickety wooden porch. He stopped for fear Tim might hear it. When he saw no movement anywhere, he continued. It took about eight hops to move across the porch. With each one he expected to break through the creaky boards and end up under the house.