The Advocate - 03 - The Advocate's Conviction

Home > Other > The Advocate - 03 - The Advocate's Conviction > Page 7
The Advocate - 03 - The Advocate's Conviction Page 7

by Teresa Burrell


  By the time they reached the group, the conversation had stopped. Some of them stared. Others hid under their blankets or coats. The group seemed to be going up to the old woman one at a time as she doled out food. She stopped and looked up.

  Sabre said, “Hello again. We met in the park yesterday.”

  The old woman said nothing. She nodded at the next person in line. He stepped forward and she gave him a container with what looked like half of a burrito.

  Sabre removed the photo of Cole from her bag. She held it up, moving it from side to side, for all to see. “Has anyone seen this missing child?”

  A murmur passed over, but no one volunteered anything. Several of them looked toward the old woman. Sabre turned to her again. “What’s your name?” she asked.

  “The boy,” she said.

  “No, what’s your name?” Sabre asked again, pointing at the woman.

  She didn’t say anything. A younger woman spoke up from where she sat in the dirt, eating some French fries very deliberately and slowly. Sabre wondered if she was trying to make them last longer. “We call her ‘Mother Teresa’ or sometimes just ‘Mama T.’”

  “Okay, ‘Mama T’ it is. Have you seen this boy?”

  “The boy,” she said, shaking her head from side to side, “the boy.”

  JP stood close to Sabre, observing the crowd. He noticed the younger woman nodding her head as Mama T repeated “the boy.” The younger woman’s eyes darted back and forth. JP stepped closer to her. “Will you come over here please,” he asked softly. “I want you to get a better look at the picture.”

  She stood up and walked toward them. Sabre showed her the picture.

  “You’ve seen him, haven’t you?” JP asked.

  She nodded her head.

  “When?”

  “He was here for two days, but he ate too much. Mama T gave him the best food.” She looked at Mama T, but the woman seemed to ignore her and started handing out more food.

  “So what happened?”

  She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Some of the guys got mad and told him he had to go away. So he left. Mama T was very angry. She liked the boy.”

  “Do you know where he went?”

  “That way.” She pointed to the right of the park.

  “When did he leave?”

  “This morning.”

  14

  Bob dipped his cigarette butt into the sand at the top of the tall, stone ashtray that stood in front of the San Diego Superior Court Juvenile Division. The perfect brittsommar day, as his Swedish grandmother would have called it, made him want to be anywhere but here. He walked through the metal detectors and upstairs where he had agreed to meet his client, Karen Lecy. Noon seemed like a good time since he knew his client wasn’t an early riser. He would rather have done this in his office, but it was easier for Karen to go to the courthouse.

  Bob walked over to the wall that stood about four feet high and looked over. From there he could see the entire lobby as well as the front door. Karen was late. Bob expected nothing else. He’d be surprised if she even made it at all. It wasn’t unusual for his juvenile court clients to make appointments and not keep them, especially the court-appointed cases. The clients who paid out of their own pocket were much more considerate of his time.

  Bob opened his manila file folder and glanced quickly through the detention report. There was nothing in there he didn’t already know. He placed it back in the file where it laid loosely inside. Bob never attached anything to the folder and seldom had more than the latest report. He kept the facts in his head, and when he needed something else he generally borrowed it from Sabre if she was on the case. He checked his watch. His client was nearly ten minutes late. He gazed over the wall at the remaining attorneys with their clients, who were waiting their turn to learn what would be the next step in their pathetic lives. It was relatively quiet down below—he could see ten or twelve defendants, about a half dozen attorneys, two marshals, and a Chinese interpreter he recognized from the Vu case. Most of the courtrooms had recessed for lunch. Bob looked at his watch. It read 12:14. He’d give her a few more minutes.

  A while later, Karen Lecy passed through the metal detector, apparently smart enough to not enter with drugs this time. She looked around and then started for the stairway. Bob met her part way. She smiled when she greeted him but made no mention of being late. He didn’t know the client very well, so he didn’t know if she was just rude or if it was drug-induced self-centeredness. Karen’s red eyes surrounded by the dark circles coupled with her disheveled appearance indicated that she hadn’t wasted any time getting a fix upon her release from custody.

  Bob led her to a couple of chairs and a small table that sat in one corner of the large hallway next to the four-foot wall. “What is the status of your criminal case?” he asked.

  “I entered a plea for possession. I shouldn’t have, though. They wasn’t my drugs.”

  “How did they get in your bag?”

  “Someone must have put them there.”

  “Who do you think would do that?” Bob was toying with her now.

  “I don’t know, maybe someone behind me who didn’t want to get caught with their stash. Maybe they just dropped them in my purse.”

  “Did they check them for fingerprints?”

  “They said they had mine on them, but I dig in my purse for stuff all the time. Maybe I touched them without knowing.”

  “But then they would’ve had to be in there a while before you put your bag on the conveyer belt to go through the metal detector.”

  Karen wiggled in her chair. “It must’ve been someone outside before I came in then. I seen this one guy who was acting all crazy. It was probably him.”

  Bob didn’t really care about her drug use except how it affected this case. If she was stupid enough to use, then it was her problem. “You’re probably right,” he said. “When do you go back to court?”

  “In two weeks. I have to go back for sentencing. The DA agreed to probation. My attorney said it shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Who’s your attorney?” Bob picked up his pen to write down the information.

  “Uh … Betts. Mr. Betts.”

  “Do you have his card?”

  Karen reached in her purse and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She looked around. “Can I smoke in here?”

  Bob shook his head. “No, I’m afraid not.”

  She laid the cigarettes down on the table, reached back in her purse, and took out her wallet. She fumbled through it and removed a card. “Barry. Barry Betts,” she said.

  Bob reached for the card, copied the information, and handed it back to her. The card didn’t have the government logo on it, which meant he was in private practice.

  “Was this attorney court appointed?” Bob asked.

  “He’s not a public defender or nothing like that,” Karen replied.

  “So did you hire him?”

  “No.” Karen picked up the pack of cigarettes.

  “So, how did you get him as your attorney?”

  “He was just there.”

  “What do you mean ‘he was just there’?”

  “He came to see me at the jail. He said he likes to do some ‘bono’ work or something and he was taking my case.” She flipped the cigarette pack back and forth in her right hand.

  “Pro-bono. That means he takes the case for free.”

  “He offered to do this case here, too, but I told him I already had an attorney.”

  “You know you’re free to make that choice.”

  “No. I like you. You seem to know what you’re doing.”

  “Thanks,” Bob said. He sarcastically thought how flattering it was to have one more druggie’s approval. “So let’s talk about this case. Have you had any contact with Bailey?”

  “No. I heard she ran away from the foster home. They take her away from me, and they can’t take care of her any better than I can. Now we don’t know where she is. At least I knew where she was whe
n she was with me.” Karen’s voice got louder. “They need to just end this case. She’ll come home. Can you do that for me?”

  “It’s not quite that easy. And the court won’t do anything until Bailey is found, so we need to start there. If she does contact you, you must report it.”

  “So how do I get my kid back from the government?”

  “You need to start by getting clean.”

  “I am …”

  Bob raised his hand, palm facing her. “And stay clean. You need to attend the programs they have suggested. And Scott, your boyfriend, is a known drug dealer, albeit small time. He has to go.”

  “What’s he got to do with this? He hasn’t done nothing. And how am I going to pay my rent?” Karen opened the cigarette pack and removed a cigarette. She laid the pack on the table and rolled the cigarette around with her index finger and thumb, occasionally reaching it up to her mouth without putting it in. “They already took my check. How do they expect me to live?”

  Bob was frustrated with her stupidity, but she had lost control over her pathetic existence and for that he was sorry. However, she was an adult and at some point she had to grow up and start making appropriate choices. He couldn’t do that for her and although he would do everything he could for her case, he knew he couldn’t do much until she started to help herself. He didn’t know what sparked his clients to take that control back. For some, losing their children was enough. Others had to completely hit bottom and end up on the streets with no where to go but up. And others never did get it. Bob knew what his choice would be. Losing his child would be about the worst thing he could think of, and it was difficult to understand how people could believe otherwise.

  “Karen, there are programs in which you can live and work through all this. That’s what the social worker is recommending, and it would be very helpful for your criminal case if you were already enrolled prior to your sentencing.”

  She put the cigarette in her mouth, holding it between her index and middle fingers, simulating her habit. She pulled it out and held it as if it were lit. “Yeah.” She nodded her head in agreement. “I’ll do that. And I’ll dump Scott, too. Whatever it takes.”

  Bob thought her voice held little sincerity. She was patronizing him now, just as she would do with the Department of Social Services. He stood up. He was done. “I know you will,” he said.

  They walked down the steps together while he explained what she needed to do to enroll in a program. He also encouraged her to call if she heard from Bailey but knew full well she wouldn’t do either. They walked outside and Bob took out his cigarettes and lighter. He lit her cigarette for her, then his own, and watched her leave.

  Bob was about halfway through his cigarette when Sabre pulled up to the courthouse and drove past him. While talking on the phone, she pulled into an empty parking spot and then backed out, driving toward him again. He stepped into the street. She stopped when she saw him. “Hey, you’re in Department Four this afternoon, right?” Sabre asked.

  “Yeah, do you need me to do something?”

  “Could you cover this case for me?” She handed him a file. “We’re submitting on the recommendations. If there’s a problem, they’ll just have to wait for me. I’ll be back. JP just called and I need to meet him at the school. A teacher thinks she saw Cole.”

  “No problem. Keep me posted,” Bob said as she drove off.

  15

  The school secretary directed Sabre into the vice-principal’s office where JP sat with an attractive, thin, brunette woman. She didn’t look more than twenty years old. JP stood up when Sabre walked in. “This is Miss Adrienne DeLozier. She’s the teacher who saw Cole.”

  Sabre reached her hand out to shake hers. “Hi, Ms. DeLozier. I’m Sabre Brown, Cole’s attorney.”

  “Adrienne, please,” she said, her voice sounding even younger than she looked.

  “Adrienne. Are you sure it was Cole?”

  “I’m quite certain. I was so concerned when I heard he was missing that I studied his photo carefully. I do that whenever I see a picture of a missing child. I try to plant it in my mind, just in case I see one in a grocery store or something.”

  JP said, “Tell us what you saw exactly.”

  “I was on yard duty for recess. While walking around the playground, I saw Hayden talking with an older boy. I teach kindergarten and we did an art project with the other kindergarten classes last Friday. Hayden was new to another class and he needed some art supplies. I remembered him because he was so charming when he asked.” She paused. “Anyway, I was kind of keeping an eye on Hayden since we were told Cole might try to see him. Although seeing an older boy on the playground was suspicious anyway because there should only be kindergarten students on the playground at that time.”

  “Did you approach them?” JP asked.

  “I did. They were walking toward the side of the building. Cole was holding Hayden by the hand, but I could see that Hayden was going willingly. He wasn’t fighting him or anything. I hurried because I didn’t want to lose sight of them.”

  “Did you talk to him?” Sabre asked.

  “No. Cole saw me come around the corner. He leaned down to Hayden and said something in his ear and then took off running.”

  Sabre shook her head. “That poor kid. If he just knew how much we want to help him.” She looked at JP and then the teacher. “Have the police been notified?”

  “Yes, the principal called them. They’re on their way,” Adrienne said.

  “Good. Is Hayden still at school?”

  JP said, “Yes. They have him in the office waiting to talk to us.”

  “I’ll bring him in for you, if you’d like,” Adrienne offered.

  The teacher returned with Hayden. JP and Sabre each gave her a card and thanked her for her help. Hayden sat down in one of the big, stuffed chairs. He looked so small sitting there, and his wide eyes looked like he might cry at any moment. JP tried to engage him while Sabre walked the teacher to the door, but Hayden didn’t seem too responsive.

  Sabre knelt down by Hayden so his eyes would be slightly above hers, hoping to give him a feeling of some power. He was a frightened little boy and she didn’t want to make it worse for him. “Hi, Hayden. You know me, right?”

  He nodded.

  “We really need your help,” she began, speaking softly. He just looked at her. “We need you to help Cole so he doesn’t get hurt.”

  “He won’t get hurt. He’s big.” Hayden said.

  “Is that what he told you?” Sabre asked. Hayden didn’t respond. “Yes, Cole is bigger than you, but he’s still pretty young and he needs our help. Do you know where he is?”

  Hayden shook his head back and forth.

  “We know Cole came to see you today. Did he tell you where he was going?”

  “Nope.”

  “What did he tell you?”

  “I can’t tell.”

  “We just want to keep Cole safe and we want him to be able to visit with you and your brothers and sister. You want that, don’t you?”

  “Mm … hmm,” Hayden muttered.

  “Good, then it’s real important that you tell us everything he told you.”

  “He said not to tell anyone he was here.”

  “What else did he say?”

  “He said he ran away and he came to get me, but then the teacher came, and he said he’d come back and get me.”

  “Did he say when he would be back?”

  “Nope.”

  Sabre looked him straight in the eye. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “What else did he say?”

  “He said he was kinda hungry again.”

  Sabre took a deep breath. “Did he say anything else?”

  Hayden shrugged his shoulders. “Nah …”

  Sabre and JP discussed what had just happened as they walked to their cars. “He’s right under our noses. He’s eight years old, and we can’t find him. The police can’t find him. Why is that?” S
abre asked.

  “He’s smarter’n a tree full of owls, that one.”

  “He is smart and seems to be pretty street wise, but every minute he’s out there alone he’s at risk. And how is he eating?”

  “That’s it.” JP looked at Sabre. “If I was a kid out on the streets and I was hungry, I’d find a way to get food.”

  “But how?”

  “I’d steal it. I’m not going to go fetch it out of trash cans like Mama T. I’d steal it before I’d do that.”

  “Since you put it that way, I guess I would, too.”

  “And he has to be hiding somewhere fairly close, so he’s going to take the food from local stores. I’m guessing he’s somewhere between the school, the park, and the bridge. He plans to come back here after Hayden, so he’s not going far. I’ll hit all the stores around here and see if anyone has seen him.”

  Bob was walking out of the courthouse when Sabre returned. She pulled into a parking space under a tree almost directly across from the door of the courthouse. Bob met her at her car and opened her door.

  “Am I too late?” Sabre asked, as she exited the car.

  “You’re right on time. I just finished the case.” Bob closed the door behind her. “Did you find Cole?”

  “No, but he was at the school to see Hayden. So, he’s alive and hasn’t been abducted.”

  “That’s a good thing.”

  “Well, at least he was alive an hour or so ago.” Sabre jerked her head up. “Oh, no!”

  “What?”

  “What if he was abducted and someone is making him steal other kids, too? There are so many creeps out there.” Sabre’s voice escalated.

  “How would someone have that kind of control over him? He hasn’t been gone long enough to be loyal to someone.”

  “His abductor could have threatened to kill him, or his mother, or his siblings.”

  “Or maybe it’s someone he knows, someone who would already have influence over him,” Bob suggested.

 

‹ Prev