The Advocate's Illusion

by Teresa Burrell

  “And she would appreciate the humor.”

  “But I’m serious about not wanting to get in her way, especially if she has a chance at happiness.”

  “If you really think it’s a problem, you could come live with me for a while. It’s smaller than our old house, but I do have a guest room.”

  “What about JP?”

  “He doesn’t stay in the guest room.” She smirked.

  “No, you goofball, but then I’ll be cramping your style.”

  “Not much style to cramp. Lately, we haven’t seen much of each other.”

  Ron looked concerned. “Are you two fighting?”

  “No, nothing like that,” Sabre said. “We’ve both just been so busy and on different schedules. He was out of town a lot on that high-profile case and when he got back, I was up to my ears in alligators with mine.”

  “Don’t screw this up, Sabre. He’s a good guy.”

  Sabre knew what he meant. She had a hard time with commitment, but this wasn’t that. At least, she didn’t think it was. “What about your love life?”

  No response.

  They finished eating. As they walked out, Sabre didn’t let him off the hook. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  He talked as he walked her to her car. “I’ve had a few first dates. Nothing has led to a second. Mom set me up twice, but they both bombed. The first was ready to get married before we got through dessert. The second one had a girlfriend, which I figured out the minute we met, but Mom had no clue. We actually had a lot of fun. She’s become a pretty good friend.”

  “Mom means well. Besides, you haven’t done that well on your own.”

  “Seriously? Let’s see, I’ve had three loves in my life: the first had mental issues, the second was married to a crazy man, and the third was a psychopathic killer.” He threw his arm around Sabre, pulled her close to him and rubbed his knuckles on her head like he did when they were kids. “Apparently, I like crazies. Why do you think I’m so fond of you?”

  “Sister abuse,” Sabre said, laughing and pulling away. She got in her car and rolled down the window.

  “Thanks for dinner,” Ron said.

  “My pleasure,” Sabre said. “Give it some thought, Bro. My home will always be open to you. I’d love to have my big brother so close.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  Chapter 13

  The Parker Case

  Bob and JP sat at the bar in The Watering Hole watching for anyone who looked like Jim Jones. When JP ordered a Miller Genuine Draft, Bob said, “When did you start drinking that?”

  “A few months back. A friend of mine had it at his house, and I kinda liked it. Want one?”

  “Sure, I’ll give it a try.”

  JP glanced around as they waited for the beer. There weren’t more than a dozen people in the room. “It might be too early for this guy, even if he were to come back here.”

  “I think it was closer to midnight when Ellesse left with him,” Bob said.

  When the bartender brought the beers, JP pulled up the photo of Jim Jones that Bob had sent to him on his phone.

  “Do you know this guy?” JP asked.

  “Are you a cop?” the young bartender asked.

  “No,” JP said. “I think he’s about to be a father, and I thought he might want to know.”

  The bartender gave him an odd look, but glanced at the photo. “It’s hard to say, but it doesn’t ring any bells. I don’t usually work this late. I’m mostly on the day shift. I’m just waiting for Nigel to get here. He’s the night bartender, but he’s running late tonight.”

  “Any idea when he’ll arrive?”

  “Any time now,” he said, and left to take another order.

  JP and Bob visited as they perused the room. A slightly gray-haired man in his fifties stepped into the bar from the back. All of a sudden, the small crowd roared, “Nigel.” JP looked around and saw they were all lifting their glasses to the bartender. He felt like he was in an episode of Cheers, and Norm had walked in the door.

  Nigel waved both hands in the air. “Let the party begin,” he said, and stepped behind the bar.

  “I’m guessing that’s Nigel,” Bob said.

  “Ya think?”

  They waited until Nigel worked his way down the bar. Bob ordered vodka, but JP nursed his beer. When Nigel returned with Bob’s drink, JP showed him the photo and gave him the same explanation he gave the other bartender, leading with the fact that he was not a cop.

  Nigel studied the photo carefully. “Not a very good photo. It could be a lot of guys who come in here. He does look a little familiar, but unless he spends a lot of time up here at the bar, I’d probably not recognize him. Hold on, I’ll ask Kathy.” He walked down to the other end of the bar where the waitress was getting her orders. A few minutes later, a woman around forty, carrying a tray of drinks, walked up to JP.

  “Let me get these drinks out before my tips get any lower. I’ll be back.”

  JP watched the door as a few more customers came in, but no one looked like Jones.

  Kathy returned within minutes, and JP showed her the photo.

  “He looks familiar, but it may just be the sunglasses.”

  “Do you have a lot of people who come into the bar wearing sunglasses?”

  “No, most of them remove them as soon as they walk in, but not this guy. He left them on the whole time.”

  “How long ago was that?” JP asked.

  “He’s a semi-regular. I’ve seen him maybe a half a dozen times, always with the sunglasses. He comes in trolling every couple of months.”

  “Does he usually leave with someone?”

  “More than you can imagine,” Kathy said. “You said he may have fathered a child. Was it consensual?”

  This woman was no dummy, and there was no reason to lie to her. “We’re not sure. Why do you ask?”

  “Because he’s creepy. I don’t know why anyone would leave with him, but they do. Most of the time, they’re pretty drunk. I’m not sure the women are in a state of mind to give consent by the time they leave, but what do I know?”

  “Have you seen him lately?” JP asked.

  Suddenly someone yelled, “Hey, we need some drinks over here.”

  “I have to go,” she said. “It’s been quite a while since I saw him last. At least a month.” She started to walk away.

  “Wait,” JP said. He handed her his card and a twenty-dollar bill. “Thanks for your time. Please call me if you see him again.”

  She smiled. “Sure will.”

  JP turned to Bob. “I think we’re done here, but if Jones comes in every few months, he probably doesn’t live too far from here. Want to try another bar?”

  “Sure, if you’re buying.”

  “You used to live around here. What’s the next closest place?”

  “Peter D’s. It’s a karaoke bar; at least it used to be. Maybe we’ll discover Jones sings like an angel.”

  “You’re sick.”

  Peter D’s was right up the street so within minutes they were in the bar. Bob was disappointed to find there was no karaoke blaring and the bar was pretty quiet. JP showed the photo to the bartender and the waitress, but neither was able to identify the man in the picture. The waitress did remember a guy coming in there with sunglasses and leaving them on.

  “How long ago?” JP asked.

  “A couple of months maybe. It was shortly after I started working here. I didn’t think too much of it. I figured he had some eye surgery done or something, but then he came back about three weeks ago.”

  “Was he alone?”

  “Yeah, both times.”

  “Did he leave with anyone?” JP asked.

  “I don’t remember the first time, but last time he did. It wasn’t that late, but she was pretty wasted when they left.”

  “Had you served her a lot of alcohol?”

  “Only a beer or two,” she said defensively. “The boss is good about cutting people off who have had too
much.”

  “I’m not suggesting you did anything wrong. I’m wondering about her state of mind.”

  “Like I said, she didn’t order much from me, but it was karaoke night and it was busy, so I wasn’t the only one serving. And she could’ve gotten it from the bar as well.”

  Bob and JP hit two more bars, both within three miles of the first one. No one recognized the man in the photo, but one bartender remembered a guy with sunglasses. He thought he’d been in there a few times, but he wasn’t sure.

  They continued east on Clairemont Mesa Boulevard until they reached JP’s Pub in Tierrasanta.

  “Look, they named a bar after you, JP,” Bob said, his words a little thick. “Have you ever been here?”

  “Nope.”

  “Me neither.”

  Bob ordered a drink. JP hadn’t had anything since the second bar, and he didn’t finish that one. After they got the usual “I’m not a cop” business out of the way, he showed the photo. No one recognized him, but the waitress said, “He’s a lousy tipper, I can tell you that.”

  “So you do remember him?” JP asked.

  “No, but I would if he tipped good.”

  JP thanked her, tipped her well, and left his card.

  “It’s getting late, and the farther east we go, the less luck we have. I’ll try the area just north and south of Clairemont Mesa another night.”

  On the way home, Bob asked, “How are things with Sabre?”

  “Why? Did she say something?”

  “Why are you so defensive? You haven’t screwed this up, have you?”

  “No,” JP said.

  “You’d better not, because she’s my little buddy.”

  “It’s just that we haven’t had a lot of time together lately.”

  “Well, fix it.”

  Chapter 14

  The Lynch Case

  JP got up early on Saturday morning, and after spending a little time researching Todd Lynch and mapping out his stops, he drove to Pasadena. Before he left, he made sure Louie had enough food and water for the long day. He hated to leave the dog behind, but he was going to the city and wasn’t sure what he would encounter. At the very least, Louie would be stuck in the car too long.

  Lynch was a salesman for Xerox and made decent money. Other than his aggressiveness in the courthouse toward Sabre, and his ex-wife complaining about his unstable behavior, JP knew little about him. According to the social study by the Department, he had no criminal record, no earlier marriages or children by previous relationships, and no family other than his mother, who also lived in Pasadena, and an estranged older brother who’d had no contact with either Todd or his mother for over five years. The last Todd knew, Ian Lynch lived on the streets somewhere in Orange County.

  JP had made a couple of appointments with people Todd had listed as “friends.” Usually, people only gave names of those they expected to speak highly of them, but JP had discovered that sometimes it didn’t work out that way. He found that was especially true of those with inflated egos who thought everyone saw them in the same light as they saw themselves. Lynch struck him as one of those guys, so maybe he would get lucky and get some valid information.

  JP was a little early for his first appointment, so he stopped at an Arco gas station and bought himself a cup of coffee. He arrived at the house at 9:28, close enough. He was welcomed into the home of Bill and Sandy Winston, who were both very cordial.

  “How do you know Todd?” JP asked, although he already knew.

  “I’ve worked with him for about six years, and we socialize as well,” Bill said. “He’s a good worker, one of the top salesmen in our department.”

  JP turned to Sandy. “So you know Todd as well?”

  “Yes,” Sandy said.

  “And do you know his ex-wife, Heather?”

  “Yes, we used to spend a lot of time together,” Sandy said. “We have two boys about the same ages, and we used to do a lot of family stuff with them, until Heather stole the kids and left.”

  “Is that what Todd told you?”

  “Oh, we know what happened,” Sandy continued. “She got into drugs. Sometimes, she wouldn’t show up when we had things planned, but Todd would bring the boys and come anyway.”

  “Do you know why she didn’t show up?”

  “He always told us she wasn’t feeling well, but later he told us the truth—that she was already using drugs. It’s a shame.”

  “I know Todd is a good friend, but I need to ask you this. Does he have a temper?”

  Bill and Sandy exchanged glances, then Bill spoke. “Not so much.”

  “Have you ever seen him get angry?”

  “I saw him blow up once at a guy at work, but he had it coming. Todd didn’t hit him or anything, just shouted at him. Before you ask, I don’t remember what it was about, but I remember that at the time, I felt it was justified.”

  “What about you, Sandy?”

  She squirmed a little. “I’ve never seen him totally lose it. Maybe raise his voice at the kids or at Heather. That’s about it.”

  “Have you ever seen him spank the boys?”

  “No. He’s a good father. He’s very strict and they don’t ever defy him. They could get away with a lot more with their mom, but not Todd. They listen to him.”

  JP left there not really knowing anything more than before. He wanted to find some dirt on this guy because of his verbal attack on Sabre, but he didn’t want that to cloud his judgment. He decided to cut Todd some slack and try to be more objective. It would make for better investigation.

  Next stop was Todd’s mother, Grandma Lynch, a large woman in her early seventies. She wasn’t quite as friendly as the previous stop. She did not invite him inside, and her first question was “Does Todd know you’re here?”

  “I’m not sure, ma’am. I work for the attorney who represents his children. I’m here on their behalf.”

  “Why do the kids have an attorney? That’s just silly. I suppose Todd will have to pay for that too.”

  “The children have an attorney to make sure their rights are protected and that they are safe.”

  “What rights do they have? They’re kids. Their father will take care of them and keep them safe.”

  It was useless to try to explain any further. “I understand Todd wants the children placed here with you. Is that what you want?”

  “Of course, if that’s what Todd wants, then I’m good with that.” Her large stature and her gruff voice didn’t make her seem very “grandmotherly.”

  “Do you want the boys here, ma’am?”

  “I don’t understand why they aren’t with their father. That’s where they should be.”

  “And if they can’t be with their father right now, do you want them to stay with you?”

  “Well, of course. They won’t be any trouble. Todd will make sure they stay in line. He always does.”

  He didn’t bother to explain that Todd wouldn’t be able to live there without agreement from the court. He decided to leave that up to the social worker, assuming it became a viable option, which he didn’t think was likely.

  “Is he strict with the boys?”

  “No more than any other decent parent. He’s a good father, and he’s a good son.”

  “Does he ever hit the children?”

  “He spanks them sometimes, I suppose. I don’t know. They listen to him. He doesn’t have to do much. They show him respect. That no-good wife of his was the problem.”

  They were still standing at the front door, and JP was anxious to get this over with, but he had a few more questions.

  “Does Todd have any other family in southern California?”

  “Just his brother, but he wouldn’t take the kids. He don’t even come to see his own mother.”

  “Why is that, ma’am?”

  “Because he’s too much like his good-for-nothing father. That’s why.” She stared at JP for a few seconds. “But I don’t think that’s any of your business, young man.”


  “You’re probably right,” JP said. “Thank you for your time.”

  Chapter 15

  The Lynch Case

  Before JP left Pasadena, he decided to talk to some of Todd’s neighbors. He would have to canvass the neighborhood because he didn’t have any names. That was always tricky, because he couldn’t divulge much about the case or why he was there. He had to be especially careful this time because he knew if Todd got wind of his actions, he would surely make an issue of it.

  JP drove past Todd’s house. He didn’t see a car in the driveway, but it was likely in the garage if he was home. He parked across the street and walked to the house directly across from Todd’s. They had the best view of the Lynch house. He rang the doorbell.

  A woman around fifty-five answered the door, holding her purse and keys.

  “Are you Heather Lynch?” JP asked.

  “No, you have the wrong house. Her house is directly across the street.” She pointed to the Lynch house.

  “That’s odd. I was there a couple of days ago, and the gentleman there told me I had the wrong house. I thought maybe there was a typo in the address.”

  “No, you had the right house, but I don’t think she lives there anymore.”

  “Dang!” JP said. “I work for a trust and estates attorney, and we need to find her for an inheritance. You wouldn’t happen to know where she moved to, would you?”

  “No, but I’m sure her husband does.”

  “Where can I find him?”

  She pointed across the street again. “He still lives there. They’re going through a divorce.”

  JP nodded his head. “That would explain why he didn’t want to talk to me. He acted like he didn’t even know her.”

  “I don’t think the divorce has been too amicable. She took the three boys and left him. It’s been a lot quieter over there since then.”

  “I suppose three boys can be kind of loud.”

  “It wasn’t that. I hardly ever heard the boys when Todd was around. They were too afraid of him to be disruptive. Todd yelled a lot, sometimes at the boys, but mostly at Heather.”