The Advocate's Ex Parte (The Advocate Series Book 5) (8 page)

“Is that his car in the garage?”

“No, I went to my cousin Sandy’s house. You remember her, right? She lived on Machado near the park.”

“Of course. I remember how much she loved guns. Was a darn good shot, too, if I remember correctly. She always wanted to be a cop. Did she ever do it?”

“No. She became a nurse, worked at it for a while, and then married a cattle rancher,” Robin said. “I stayed at Sandy’s for one night. I knew Ty would want his SUV back and I wanted my car, so Sandy got a friend of hers to make an exchange. When they were kids, Little Joe was pretty small and he and Tyson would get into fights. Tyson always won. But then Little Joe grew up and one day he nearly killed Ty.” Robin paused. “Besides, I think Ty was trying to get me back and thought he better act the nice guy. Anyway, as soon as I had my own car I left there and went to a shelter. I knew he’d find me if I stayed with her.”

“Is that when you came here?”

“No, he found me at the shelter about a week later. I was taking the trash out back and he grabbed me. He covered my mouth, dragged me to his truck, and pushed me in on the driver’s side. I screamed and he punched me in the face with his fist. I reached for the passenger door handle, but he had a large duffle bag shoved against the door. I don’t know what was in it, but it was heavy. I tried to push it off the seat, but I couldn’t. I tried reaching around it, but I couldn’t get to the door handle. Then I saw a rope running from the grab handle above the window down to the door. He must have tied the door shut. He drove off with me, but my car stayed behind. The shelter called Sandy because that’s who I had for an emergency contact. She came and picked up the car and took it to her house.

“That night the beating Ty gave me was the worst yet. He was livid because he missed the first day of hunting season and he blamed me for it. Early the next morning he packed up his gear and told me I had better be there when he returned. Sandy sent her friend to check on me. He waited until Ty left and then he drove up to the house. The door was locked so he rang the bell. I looked out the window and saw him. I tried to get the window up, but it wouldn’t budge. I was in pretty bad shape so it took me a while to stumble downstairs and I feared he’d leave before I got there, but he didn’t. He walked around the house trying to find a window to climb in. I expect he would’ve broken one if I hadn’t arrived when I did.”

“Where did you go?”

“We went to Sandy’s.”

“Did you call the police?”

A slight sarcastic laugh came from Robin’s throat. “It’s a small town and the local law enforcement consists of three people: Ty’s cousin, Blake Cooper, who had gone hunting with him; his best friend, Jimmy Porter; and his father, Big Jim Porter.”

“So, did you tell them?”

“No, when we found out Blake had gone hunting with Ty, we decided they would just alert him and I’d have less time to escape. Sandy cleaned me up and bandaged my wounds. I waited until dark and then left and came here.”

“Do you think he’ll keep looking for you?”

“He told me there was nowhere I could hide from him.” She looked up at JP, her wet eyes filled with fear. “He knows my last name used to be Torn and I know I’ve mentioned you to him before. For that matter he could easily find out everything about you. He has lots of resources. He could get your address and come here.”

“First of all, he has no reason to believe you would come to me. Second, he wouldn’t be able to track me to this house because I’ve never used this address on anything. I use a postal box address on everything, even my driver’s license.”

“Is that legal?”

“No, but it’s a lot safer in my line of work.” JP put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. “You’re safe here.”

Chapter 12

The Tran Case

Child: Emma, age 18 mos. (F)

Parents: Father—unknown, Mother—Kim-Ly Tran

Issues: Neglect

Facts: Mother left eighteen-month-old girl in locked room and went to work. Apartment complex caught on fire.

Sabre had already gone for an early morning run, showered, and left the house for her usual Saturday “home visits” with her minor clients. Since her route took her near Scripps Hospital, she decided to stop and check on Dr. Heller. They were not friends, but they had a good professional relationship, one based on mutual respect. Dr. Heller was always the first on Sabre’s list when she needed a psychological evaluation because she trusted her tolerant, yet honest assessment. She could not be bought, but she was certainly more open-minded in her views than many of the doctors used by the prosecutors.

Sabre stood in the hospital room looking at the unconscious Dr. Heller. What kind of animal would do this? She wondered if JP was right, that there might be a connection between Judge Mitchell’s death and the attack on the doctor. She held her hand and spoke softly. “It’s going to be alright, Carolina. You hang in there.” She didn’t know what else to say or if it mattered. She touched her lightly on the shoulder and left.

Just outside the door she encountered a tall doctor with disheveled hair and bags under his eyes who was just about to enter Heller’s room. “Good morning, Doctor.” She put out her hand to shake his. “I’m Sabre Brown, a friend of Dr. Heller’s.”

He shook her hand. “Dr. Brister,” he said.

“You look tired. Are you just starting your shift?”

“It’s been a long night,” he said. “Were you here to see Dr. Heller?”

“Yes, I was just in there. Has there been any change in her condition?”

“Her vitals are a little better this morning. That’s about all I can tell you at this point.”

“Thank you,” Sabre said and continued down the hallway and out to her car.

***

After stopping at Polinsky Receiving Home to see a newly appointed six-year-old boy, Sabre continued on to a group home in Mira Mesa to see a teenage girl who had just arrived there. She visited with the girl, and then continued on her way to see a maternal aunt home where a tox baby had been placed. Finally, she arrived at the foster home of Mr. and Mrs. Nguyen. Emma Tran, the eighteen-month-old girl on the Tran case was recently detained in this home. Sabre introduced herself to both foster parents and was invited in and offered tea, which she politely refused.

“Emma should be waking up from her nap any time now,” Mrs. Nguyen said.

“That’s fine because I have a few questions for you.” Sabre sat down on the chair that Mrs. Nguyen offered her. Mr. Nguyen left the room. “Have you met the Court Appointed Special Advocate on this case yet?”

“No, the social worker told me about her. Apparently, her name is Mae Chu. I’ve been waiting for her call, but so far I haven’t heard from her.”

“What about the mother, Kim-Ly, have you met her yet?”

“Yes, she had a visit yesterday. She’s so young. She’s still a child herself and trying to raise a baby.”

“I know. And we haven’t been able to find any family here. Has she said anything to you about them?”

“No. She didn’t talk about her life much.”

“How was she with Emma?”

“She held her and played with her appropriately. She seems to really love her daughter, but….” Mrs. Nguyen paused.

“But?”

“She asked me what happens when children are adopted, if the parents ever get to see them again.”

“Did you get the impression she was considering giving her up?”

“I couldn’t tell for sure. She looked very sad when she asked. She may have just thought she didn’t have a chance of getting her back.”

“What did you tell her?”

“I told her to talk to the social worker. She could answer her questions better than I could. And I told her to be sure to stay in her programs. She was real concerned about the baby being safe, which seemed a little odd considering she left the baby home alone. Maybe it’s that she’s so young.”

“That’s the second time you mentioned how young Kim-Ly is. She says she’s twenty-one and she has a birth certificate that verifies it.” Sabre noticed the foster mother shaking her head in disagreement. “But you don’t think so, do you?”

“That girl is no more than sixteen at best.”

Mr. Nguyen stepped into the living room carrying a beautiful, dark-haired, dainty little girl with hazel-colored, almond-shaped eyes. Sabre stood up and stepped closer to her. “Hello, Emma,” she said. Emma didn’t respond. She rubbed her eye with a tiny fist.

“She’s still sleepy,” Mr. Nguyen said. He continued to hold her for a few minutes and then he set her down on the floor. The child appeared very steady on her feet, but she didn’t take any steps. He retrieved a book about baby animals and handed it to her. She took the book, plopped down where she had been standing, and slowly flipped the pages, spending close to a minute on each page and carefully studying the pictures before she went to the next one.

“Does she talk at all?” Sabre asked.

“She has a decent size vocabulary, mostly Vietnamese, but she’s a very shy little girl,” Mrs. Nguyen said, “so she doesn’t express herself often. We speak to her frequently in English.”

“I’ve only seen her once before at Polinsky and she seemed to be developmentally appropriate for her age. What do you think?”

“She seems quite normal. She walks quite well. In fact, she’s very quick, but quiet. She covers a lot of ground so I sometimes need to be careful. I’ll turn around and there she is, right under foot.”

Emma stood up while holding her book and toddled over to Mrs. Nguyen. She handed her the book and said softly, but very distinctly, “Kit-ty.”

Mrs. Nguyen opened the book to the page with a kitten. “Yes, kitty. Very good, Emma.” Mrs. Nguyen looked up at Sabre. “The kitten is her favorite. Do you know if they had a cat?”

“Not that I’m aware of, but she may have.”

“And there is no father in the picture?” the foster mother asked.

Sabre shook her head.

“That’s a shame. Emma deserves two parents. I asked Kim-Ly about the father. She told me she didn’t know his name, that she’d had a one-night stand, but she wasn’t very convincing. I think she does know and doesn’t want to tell for some reason.”

“Perhaps,” Sabre said. Even if she knew something more, which she didn’t, it wasn’t her place to share it with the foster mother. Kim-Ly told that same story to the social worker when questioned. It was not unusual to see young girls in the system with babies and no knowledge of who had fathered them. She had hoped that Kim-Ly had opened up to Dr. Heller in her psychological evaluation, but since Heller hadn’t submitted the report, she wasn’t certain it had even been written. Neither the report nor the usual tape recording of the session had been found in Dr. Heller’s office. There was no way to tell what, if anything, might be missing without the doctor to verify it. Sabre decided to wait a few more days and then ask the court to order another evaluation on Kim-Ly Tran if there was no change in the doctor’s condition.

Sabre spent a little more time with Emma and then went to four more home visits. Afterwards, she stopped at the hospital to check on Dr. Carolina Heller, but there had been no change.

Chapter 13

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.

JP left Robin at home with her car secure within the garage. She assured him she wouldn’t go outside the house. Normally, Louie would go with JP on Saturday morning when he went out. They’d stop at Bob’s house and Louie would play with Bob’s dog, Alfie, while Bob and JP drank coffee and visited. But today JP had a full schedule and a late start so he skipped his visit with Bob and left Louie behind to keep Robin company.

JP walked onto the high school campus and headed toward the gym where the coaches had their offices. The school was quiet except for a few boys with baseball gloves showing up for practice. JP wound his way past the track and across the outdoor basketball courts and into the gym. He encountered a tall, African-American student, with a closely clipped mustache and beard walking out of the building. JP remembered trying to grow anything that resembled facial hair in high school, but to no avail.

“Could you direct me to Coach Arviso’s office?” JP asked.

He pointed to his right. “Straight ahead to the end of the hallway, turn left, and it’s the second door on the right.”

“Thanks,” JP said and walked to the office. The door was open. A short, muscular man in his early fifties sat behind the desk in the tiny office. Files and papers were stacked on the file cabinet, the bookcase, the desk, and one stuffed chair.

The man looked up when JP approached. “Come on in. You must be the PI.”

JP held out his hand. “That’s right. JP Torn.”

“Gilbert Arviso. Have a seat,” the coach said, pointing to the only empty chair in the room. “What can I do for you?”

“As you know, I’m here about Matt Durham. What can you tell me about him?”

“He’s a good ball player. Not a star, but consistent. Never missed practice. Always on time. His grades were never an issue. He wasn’t one of the ‘popular’ guys, especially with the girls, but he seemed to get along with everyone for the most part.”

“Did Matt ever fight or argue with anyone?”

The coach shook his head. “I’ve thought about that a lot since his arrest. He usually got along well with his teammates. There was one incident when he got in a shoving match with another student, a kid named Darren Flynn, but to tell you the truth I don’t think Matt started it. It didn’t really amount to much, more of a squabble than a fight. It was during a game and the other players stopped it before it was out of hand. Matt came up to bat shortly after that and he took all his aggression out on the ball. It was bottom of the ninth, one out with a runner on second. We could usually count on Matt for a base hit and we expected him to move the runner to third and then Darren would come in as a designated hitter and hit the winning run. But instead, Matt hit a home run and won the game for us.”