The Advocate - 03 - The Advocate's Conviction Read online

  “I just thought you’d want to know. Cole has been hoarding food. He puts apples, bananas, chips, or whatever he can into his pockets and takes them back to his room.”

  “What’s he doing with the food there?”

  “At first he was saving it for his siblings, but even after he knew they were receiving plenty of food, he still wanted to keep it with him. This morning one of the counselors saw him offer a bag of chips and half of a sandwich to his mom.”

  Sabre took a deep breath and walked back to her client. She introduced herself and took him into an interview room for privacy. They sat on a small sofa with about a foot between them. She explained who she was and assured him that anything he said was confidential.

  “Do you know why you’re here, Cole?”

  “The social worker said we needed to be here to be safe, but we were safe at home.”

  “What was it like at home?”

  “I dunno.” He shrugged. “Good, I guess.”

  “Does anyone else live with you besides your mom and brothers and sister?”

  “Nope.”

  “Do you have any other family around?”

  “Sometimes my Aunt Ella comes and stays the night.”

  “Does your Aunt Ella live nearby?”

  “No, she lives in Riverside.”

  “That’s about an hour and a half away. Do you see her very often?”

  “Nope.”

  Sabre watched as Cole sat very still answering her questions. It bothered her that so many of the children she interviewed seemed so grown up. “Cole, do you like school?”

  “Yup.”

  “How do you get to school?”

  “We take the bus, and then I drop Hayden and Allie off at their classes and I go to mine.”

  “Allie? Is that Alexandria?”

  “Yup. We call her Allie, but sometimes we call her Sissy because she’s the only girl.”

  “What grade is Allie in?”

  “She started kindergarten this year. Mom has to pick her up because she gets out too early, but Hayden rides the bus home with me.”

  “It says in the report that you’ve all been missing a lot of school lately. Is that true?”

  Cole looked directly at Sabre as if he were trying to figure out the correct answer. “We’ve missed some. Mom’s been sick and I’ve had to help her with the babies.”

  “Has anything unusual been happening at your home?”

  Cole shook his head. “Nope.”

  “What’s it like here at Polinsky?” Sabre asked.

  “Good. The food is good.”

  Just then the door burst open, and a sinewy little six-year-old boy with his hair standing straight up in the back burst into the room.

  “I’m sorry,” the counselor standing in the doorway said. “Hayden didn’t give me a chance to knock.”

  “It’s okay. Come on in.”

  Hayden ran up to Cole and pounced on him, pulling him off the sofa onto the floor. “Hayden, stop!” Cole tried to push him off, but Hayden held on and soon they were rolling around, Cole a willing participant.

  Sabre spoke to the counselor. “Why don’t you bring me the other siblings. I’d like to see them all together.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes, please.” Sabre smiled

  Sabre watched the two boys play for a bit. She tried introducing herself to Hayden, but he ignored her.

  “Is he always like this?” Sabre chose her words carefully. “So active?”

  “He’s a pain in the tush,” Cole said adamantly, as he held his arm straight out against Hayden’s head to keep him from attacking again. Hayden just smirked, ducked, and grabbed Cole around the legs.

  Sabre had them just about calmed down when the door opened and Allie and Blake stepped in, followed by the counselor carrying Wyatt. As soon as Hayden saw Blake walk in, he turned and wrestled him to the floor. He was too forceful, though, and before long, Blake was crying. Cole stepped in and separated them. Then Allie quickly gave Blake a kiss and led him over to some toys in the corner of the room.

  Sabre took Wyatt from the counselor and carried him around, introducing herself to each of the children as best she could. She wondered if she should be concerned about Wyatt’s safety, although he seemed to have survived the first year and a half of his life amongst these “active” children well enough. He was the only one of the five that had any extra weight on his body.

  The dynamics of this little family were interesting to watch. After a while, Sabre called for the counselors to come take the children back. A sigh of relief overtook her when they all left. She had learned a lot from her encounter with the Johnson sibs, not the least of which was to see them individually next time. Perhaps then she could ask about the chicken feet.

  3

  Tired and irritable, it probably wasn’t the best time to meet a teenager, but Sabre read through the report while she waited for the counselor to bring Bailey Rose Lecy to the interview room. There wasn’t anything too surprising in the report. Bailey had run away several times, her grades had started to drop last semester, and by spring she hadn’t attended school at all. From her behavior, the social worker suspected drugs, but no real evidence supported the theory.

  Sabre closed her file and laid it down on the table when Bailey walked in. Her dyed-black hair made her aqua-blue eyes more evident, almost frightening. Bright red lipstick on her full lips added the only color to her pale skin. In spite of the cover-up, Sabre could see a natural beauty under her gothic disguise. Her features were perfect—a small nose, straight teeth, clear skin, and a tiny dimple in her left cheek. She wore a green sweat shirt and khaki pants that Sabre assumed were Polinsky issue, since the report indicated she only wore black.

  Bailey stepped inside and stopped a few feet from the door with her arms folded.

  Sabre took a step towards her. “Please come have a seat.” Sabre motioned to the sofa.

  Bailey stood still. “Do you have a cigarette?” She asked.

  “No. I don’t smoke. And even if I did, you can’t smoke in here.”

  “We could go out and you could buy me some.”

  “No. I’m sorry, Bailey. I couldn’t do that.” Sabre walked over closer to Bailey. When Bailey took a step backwards, Sabre stopped. Although it was a small room, she felt uncomfortable trying to converse with the eight feet or so between them, but putting her client at ease was more important than her own comfort. “By the way, I’m your attorney, Sabre …”

  “I don’t need an attorney,” she growled. “I haven’t done anything.”

  Sabre spoke softly. “There’s been a petition filed on your mother and that’s why you’ve been temporarily removed from her care. When that happens the court appoints an advocate for the child. That would be me.” Sabre paused. “Bailey, do you know what confidentiality means?”

  “I’m not stupid.”

  “Of course you’re not. Sorry. Just so you know, anything you tell me is confidential. So you can feel free to talk to me about anything and I can’t divulge that to anyone else unless you give me permission.”

  “So if I tell you I’m going to kill someone, you can’t tell?” Bailey said with teenage sarcasm in her voice.

  “Actually, in that case I would have to tell because it is a future crime. But anything you have already done or anything that has happened to you stays between us. Understand?”

  “Right.” Bailey said as she shuffled her feet but kept her distance.

  Sabre took a couple of steps closer to Bailey and when she didn’t back up, Sabre angled a little closer to her, still keeping about some distance between them. “In this case, the petition on your mother is based partially on your behavior.” Bailey didn’t say anything, still standing with her arms crossed. “It says here you refuse to go to school. Is that correct?”

  “School sucks.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “It just does.” Bailey looked around the room.

  “It looks like you were do
ing really well in the beginning of the school year. What happened to make things different?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Something must’ve happened. You went from perfect attendance and straight A’s to F’s and now complete refusal to attend.” Bailey didn’t respond. “I’m here to help you, but I need to know your side of this story. There’s always more than one side to a story.”

  “Don’t act like you care. I know you don’t care. Nobody cares.”

  “I know you don’t know me and obviously don’t trust me, but I do care and I want to help you. I know it all seems hopeless right now and like no one is listening to you, but I am listening. You just need to talk to me or there’s nothing to listen to.”

  “Can I go back now?”

  Sabre took a business card out of her briefcase and handed it to Bailey. “If you decide you want to talk, just tell one of the counselors and they’ll call me.”

  “Sure” Bailey’s face was expressionless as she took the card, turned toward the door, and pointedly flicked the card into the trash can.

  4

  Sabre, early as usual for court, rifled through the junk in her mailbox in the lounge. She was alone except for her friend and colleague, Regina Collicott, who was reading the petitions. Regina was a tall, attractive woman with a page-boy hairdo and blunt-cut bangs. Sabre couldn’t help like her since she was one of the few attorneys who shared her obsession for shoes. She was from California, but something about her always made Sabre think “southern belle with a smoking habit.”

  “Are you on detentions this morning?” Sabre asked.

  “Yes, there’s only one. It’s some kind of ritual case.”

  Sabre stuffed the papers back in the mailbox and stepped towards Regina. “Another one? Let me see that.” She reached her hand out and Regina handed her the report.

  “There’ve been others recently?”

  “Yeah, we got one yesterday and Wagner had one last month.”

  “That’s a lot,” Regina said. “In the six years I’ve been working juvenile court I’ve never had any kind of ritual case. I remember once there was some kind of satanic thing, but it turned out to be just some social worker’s overactive imagination. I wonder what’s going on.”

  “Who do you have on the case?”

  “I have the kids. Why?”

  “Do you remember JP, my investigator?”

  Regina smiled. “Tall, good-looking cowboy, easy on the eyes?”

  Sabre nodded.

  “He’s hard to forget.”

  Sabre chuckled. All the women, young and old, found him charming and indeed he was. “I’m going to have JP look into the case. Maybe you’ll want to hire him, too. There shouldn’t be a conflict. And if there is a movement out there, it would help to have some continuity.”

  “I’ll call him this afternoon,” Regina said as she walked out the door.

  Sabre grabbed the papers back out of her mailbox, shoved them in her briefcase, and walked out to an already crowded hallway. Bob spotted her and yelled, “Sobs!”

  “Hi, honey,” Sabre said when Bob approached. “Guess what? There’s another ritual case on calendar this morning.”

  “Really? Do you think Satan is running rampant in San Diego? Or maybe aliens are taking over our planet.” He chuckled.

  “You laugh, but it’s a little frightening.”

  “Speaking of which, did you meet the children on my case? The Johnson tribe?”

  A half smile crossed Sabre’s face. “Oh yeah. Your client has her hands full. Delightful bunch of kids, but a little wild. And you’re right. They have been going hungry. The oldest one, Cole, has been hoarding food at Polinsky.”

  “I know. The mom said he tried to give her food when they had their visit. She really wanted to take it because she was hungry, but she refused because she didn’t want him to not eat because he was saving his food for her.”

  “You’re convinced this mom is telling the truth, aren’t you?” Sabre asked.

  “I tend to believe her. I think she needs some help because she obviously can’t feed all those kids.”

  “Wasn’t she receiving aid?”

  “She recently started getting it, but she was too far behind to catch up with the bills. The father left about a year ago, although I’m not sure how much help he was. Mom was working at Subway part time, but she lost her job and it barely covered daycare anyway. Although she resisted going on welfare for a long time, she’s been on it for a few months now.”

  “So she should have enough for food for the kids.”

  “Yeah, that’s where it gets a little foggy.”

  “If the money isn’t going for food, where’s it going? I realize it’s not a lot, but these kids haven’t been eating well. It shouldn’t be as bad as it is.” She tilted her head as if pondering. “Do you think it could be drugs or gambling, maybe?”

  “She doesn’t strike me as a druggie or a gambler and there’s no evidence of either,” Bob said.

  “It’s probably not cheap finding someone to perform rituals. And what about the expense of draining the blood from a goat? And don’t forget about the cost of the chicken butcher.” They laughed, but Sabre wasn’t entirely convinced that it wasn’t true.

  Sabre finished her morning calendar, had lunch with Bob, and then went to her office to meet with JP. She was feeling a little nervous about seeing him, although she knew it was silly. She hadn’t worked with him for several months, not since her breakup with her last boyfriend. JP had been such a support for her through that mess, but she didn’t want to lean on him and she didn’t want to give him the wrong impression.

  JP sauntered into her office. “Howdy,” he said, tipping his black Stetson hat and speaking in his ever so slight Texas accent. It was most evident when he used one of his grandfather’s colloquialisms. “It seems like I haven’t seen you since Moses was a pup.”

  Sabre laughed and was suddenly at ease again. “I’ve missed you, too. Are you ready to go to work on another case for me?”

  “I don’t know. Is it safe?”

  “Probably not. But hopefully you won’t get shot at or beat up or anything this time.”

  “All in a days work. Whatcha got?”

  “There are two cases I’d like you to look into. We have the minors on both. The first is the Johnson case. Five hungry kids with truancy issues. Mom claims she’s just down on her luck. The social worker thinks there’s some ritualistic thing happening.”

  “What do you think?”

  “I don’t know, but something’s going on. There was a case with similar overtones filed a couple of weeks ago, and another one came in today. I’ll talk to the minors’ attorney on the first one and get back to you. Regina Collicott is on today’s case and she may be hiring you as well, if you want the case, of course. Do you know Collicott?”

  “We’ve howdied but we ain’t shook yet.”

  “So you haven’t been formally introduced?”

  “That’s what I just said.”

  Sabre smiled. “I thought dealing with a similar case might help narrow things down if there is, in fact, a rise in this activity in San Diego.”

  “You never give me anything boring. I have to say that for you.”

  “The second case may be. If not boring, at least frustrating. You get to talk to a bunch of teenagers.”

  “That’s not so bad. I was once one myself.” JP flipped through the paperwork. “What’s this one about?”

  “The Lecy case is similar in that truancy is a big part of it. It appears to be an out-of-control teenager. She’s been running away, her grades have dropped, and she quit school. She was doing really well until sometime this last year. Her mom was busted with cocaine at court yesterday so that might be the major problem. I want you to talk to her friends. Actually, she has only listed one. Her name is Shellie Ingraham, but I suspect she will lead to others. There’s no mention of a boyfriend, but talk to the neighbors and mom’s friends. See what you can find out.”
r />   5

  Coffee cup in hand, Sabre stepped out on her front porch to enjoy the early morning sun and listen to the birds chirp. She liked taking these few moments in the morning before she joined the circus they called juvenile court. She enjoyed her work and after six years she knew the Welfare and Institutions Code and Rules of Evidence better than just about anyone she worked with. Her colleagues often sought her out for advice or clarification on legal issues. She usually had the answers and always acted confident, but she still felt like she had fooled everyone into thinking she was smarter than she was. It was a feeling she had since she was in grade school, and she’d never conquered it. She remembered when she graduated from college and then from law school how strong the feeling was that she had tricked everyone. But she would go to work every day with her head held high wearing her “I’m competent” face and continue to fool the world.

  Just as she started to open the sliding glass door, her phone rang out with a Leonard Cohen song. She didn’t need to look to see who it was, as the ringtone was set especially for Bob.

  “What’s up?” she asked.

  “Turn your TV on to local news.”

  “What am I looking for?” Sabre set her coffee cup down on her fireplace ledge, picked up her remote and searched for channel ten. She watched in astonishment as the cameras spanned the inside of an old, abandoned house on Sixty-Fourth. She saw the huge pentagram on the floor drawn in a red-brown color around a hospital bed, burned candles, and blood splattered everywhere. “Never mind, I found it.”

  They both listened in silence as the reporter spoke. “The footage was provided by a concerned citizen.” The cameras switched to live coverage of the house surrounded by police. “Evidence of satanic rituals and sacrifices filled the rooms. The video was shot sometime between last Sunday morning and today …” the camera zoomed in on Sunday’s newspaper showing the front page’s date, “… as you can see by the newspaper on the table.” The screen split showing the citizen’s recording of the inside of the house and the television station’s version outside with the police. The video continued through the small house, the camera stopped and lingered on a wall with the numbers 66 painted in red, and the reporter added her own comments. “The numbers 666 were found in several places in the house. It appears this one was interrupted somehow…the last 6 was left off.”