The Advocate - 03 - The Advocate's Conviction

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The Advocate - 03 - The Advocate's Conviction Page 14

by Teresa Burrell


  “No. I’ll come alone.”

  “You promise?” Bailey sounded even younger than her fourteen years. Sabre could tell Bailey wanted to believe her, but anyone would’ve told her those words. Sabre knew that many people had probably already made her lots of promises they didn’t keep.

  “I promise.”

  “And you won’t tell anyone?”

  “I won’t tell anyone. Where are you?”

  “Do you know where Tecolote Canyon is?”

  “Yes.”

  “There’s an entrance to the canyon and the golf course. Just pull into the driveway there and wait for me. I’ll be there soon.”

  “Off of Mt. Arcadia?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. It’ll take me about ten minutes to get there.”

  “Can I trust you?” Bailey asked.

  “Yes, you can. I’m your lawyer.”

  “That doesn’t mean you can be trusted.” She sounded more like the Bailey she had encountered earlier, but even through the sarcasm Sabre could hear the fear in her voice.

  “Well, you can trust me. I just want to help you.” Sabre spoke with sincerity. She hoped Bailey believed her. But before Sabre could say anything else, she heard a dial tone. She wasn’t entirely certain what that meant. Was Bailey still going to meet her or had she changed her mind? Did someone interrupt her? Either way, she still had to go and find out.

  Sabre dressed quickly, grabbed her keys, and jumped in her car. She plugged her phone into her earpiece in case Bailey called back. She was tempted to call JP, but she had promised she’d go alone and she knew JP wouldn’t let her do that if he knew she was out at midnight meeting with a teenage runaway near a canyon. When she thought of it that way, it didn’t sound like such a good idea to her, either. But she had promised.

  Sabre turned onto Mt. Arcadia, driving around and up and down the hilly street until she reached Snead Ave. and the entrance to Tecolote Canyon. A yellow caution light blinked on and off about thirty feet before the turn. She turned onto Snead, the street that led into the canyon and up to the golf course. It looked more like a long driveway than a street and the golf course, which was situated inside of the canyon, wasn’t visible. All one could see, even in the daylight, was brush, hills, and trees. Tonight the sky was too dark to even see that.

  There were no other cars around. She flipped a u-turn and faced her car toward the street instead of the canyon, just in case she needed to leave in a hurry. She left her car running, double-checked her doors to make sure they were locked, and shut off her lights. She felt more and more uneasy as she waited there in the complete darkness. Sabre regretted she hadn’t called JP. After all, he was her investigator and had the same obligation to not break their client’s confidentiality. But she again decided not to call him.

  Sabre waited for what seemed like an hour, checking her watch every few minutes. Six minutes had passed, then seven, eight… . No Bailey. The silence was deafening. A noise in the darkness startled her. It took her a second to realize it was the hoot of an owl. After all, she was in “Owl” Canyon. Another two minutes passed. The warmth inside the car competed with the colder air and the windows began to fog up. Sabre turned the defogger on and ran her windshield wipers to help clear them. Very little was visible outside. It was completely dark behind her car, some light from the partial moon shone down in front of her, and the lights on the hill from houses far above her brightened the top of the hill. Off to her left about thirty yards away sat one lone street lamp offering a little light in about a ten-foot circle below it. She continued to look out her windows without rolling them down, but to little avail.

  Eleven minutes had passed since she arrived. She wondered how long she should wait. She may not even show up. Car lights approached from the left along Mt. Arcadia. She watched the car speed down the hill and around the curve. A man’s voice bellowed, “Yahoo!” Sabre saw an upper body, head, and arm reach outside the passenger window and fling what looked like a bottle into the canyon about fifty feet from her car. He continued to hoot and holler as they passed her car and disappeared into the night.

  Sabre checked her watch again. Thirteen minutes.

  “Ahh …” Sabre put her hand over her own mouth to stifle the scream brought on by the face she saw in her passenger window. Then a knock. She couldn’t tell for certain who it was. She waited for a second.

  “It’s me,” Bailey said.

  Sabre unlocked the door and Bailey stepped inside the car. “Brr … It’s cold out there.”

  “How long have you been here?” Sabre asked.

  “Not long.”

  Bailey was dressed in jeans and a dark, long-sleeved shirt; a knit cap was pulled down below her ears. She held a small paper bag in her hand. Sabre turned the heat up, then glanced around the car. She spotted what she was looking for, reached behind Bailey, and picked up a sweatshirt from the back seat. She handed it to Bailey. “Here. Put this on.”

  Bailey pulled the sweatshirt over her head and stuck her hands and her package inside the front pocket. Her knit cap fell off, and before she could put it back on Sabre saw her blond roots reaching out from her scalp to meet the black dye on her hair.

  “Bailey, I want to help you any way that I can, but first I need to know if you’re safe.”

  “I’m fine.” Bailey didn’t sound as hostile as she had the first time they met, but she did remain cautious.

  “I’m not asking you where you’re staying, but just tell me if you have a house to stay in or if you’re living on the streets.”

  She nodded. “I’m fine,” she repeated.

  “Do you have food? Do you need anything?”

  “I’m eating okay. I want to know about Apollo.”

  “I saw Apollo yesterday. He seems like a good kid. And he’s very protective of you.”

  “He didn’t kill Scott.” She said in a louder voice.

  “Do you know who did?”

  Bailey shook her head from side to side but didn’t verbally respond. Sabre waited for a few seconds in the silence. “The police have a witness that saw both you and Apollo running from the house around the time Scott was killed. Were you there? Did you see Scott or who killed him?”

  “He was already dead when we got there. We stopped in to pick up a few things. Mom told me Scott wouldn’t be there, but we got there a little later than we planned. He was lying on the floor in a puddle of blood when we came in the room.”

  “Was your mother there?”

  “She was passed out on the bed as usual.” She spoke calmly, and no anger showed in her voice. To Sabre it sounded more like resignation.

  “Did you see anyone else?”

  “No.”

  “Bailey, who do you think killed Scott?”

  Bailey’s brow wrinkled and she stared for a moment at Sabre, either surprised or confused by the question. Then she quickly looked down and mumbled, “I hoped it would all be over when Scott was killed.”

  “All what would be over?” Sabre asked.

  Again Bailey shook her head but she didn’t answer the question. She reached in her pocket and pulled out the little bag she had been carrying. She handed it to Sabre. “Apollo said to give this to someone I can trust. I think that’s you.”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s a video Apollo took. It’s at the ‘Devil House.’ Please use it to help Apollo.”

  “Did Apollo take the video that the police have? The one that was on the news?”

  Bailey nodded affirmatively.

  “How are you and Apollo involved?”

  “I can’t tell you that.”

  “Bailey, I want to help you.”

  “Just take the disc and use it to help us.”

  “What’s on it?”

  “You’ll see.” Bailey reached for the door handle.

  “Bailey,” Sabre said. Bailey turned and looked at her, keeping her hand on the door handle. “I’ll keep my promise to not go to the authorities but I have to try and convinc
e you to turn yourself in. It’ll be a lot better for you if you do.”

  “I can’t.” She opened the door. “Please help Apollo.”

  “I’ll do what I can, but you know I can’t represent him.” Bailey started to close the door. “Wait,” Sabre said. “Can I drop you off somewhere?”

  “No, thanks. I’m fine. I’ll leave after you do.”

  Bailey stepped out of the car, and as the door was closing Sabre said, “Keep in touch with me, please.”

  The door closed. Sabre didn’t want to leave until she knew Bailey was safe. She was concerned that she might be staying somewhere in the canyon. It was a dark, scary place. Sabre had hiked there one afternoon with a friend, and even then it was dark from all the shadows from the tall trees. And on two occasions during that afternoon they met with coyotes. She couldn’t even imagine what it might be like at night.

  She saw Bailey standing there waiting for her to leave and then finally heard her yell, “Go, just go!”

  Sabre turned her lights on and moved forward. She saw a bicycle lying in the ditch just before she turned onto Mt. Arcadia. At least she isn’t on foot.

  26

  “Thanks for coming by so early,” Sabre said as JP walked into her condo at 7:15 on Saturday morning.

  “No problem.”

  “Would you like some coffee?” Before he could answer she said, “You’ve probably been up for about three hours already so you must be on decaf by now, right?”

  “Right.”

  JP followed Sabre to the kitchen. She poured him a mug of black coffee and handed it to him. She picked up her own mug and said, “Follow me, I have something to show you.”

  They went into the living room. Sabre already had the disc in the DVD player and set on pause. Sabre pointed toward a big comfortable chair. “Have a seat.”

  JP set his coffee mug on the coaster on a small table next to his chair. “What is this?”

  “It’s a video that Bailey gave me.”

  “From Bailey? You heard from her?”

  “She called me late last night and asked me to meet her.”

  His eyebrow raised. “How late?”

  “Around midnight. She apparently received the message that Apollo sent through Shellie, and she decided I was the one she could trust.” Sabre proceeded to tell JP all the details of her rendezvous the night before with her minor client.

  JP stood up. Sabre could tell he was upset with her. “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “Because I promised her I wouldn’t. I need her to trust me and she needs someone she can trust. It had to be done that way.”

  “Dang, Sabre. You’re going to get yourself killed.” He stepped away from her shaking his head, his back turned.

  “I’m fine. She’s a fourteen-year-old girl.”

  JP turned back toward her. She could see the mixture of anger and concern on his face. “Fourteen-year-olds carry guns and knives, you know! And you don’t know who could’ve been with her.” He shook his head again. “For a smart girl, you sure can be dumb. Sometimes I can hear your engine runnin’ but I don’t think anyone’s drivin’.”

  Sabre covered her mouth to keep him from seeing her smile. “Okay, it was foolish. But I’m okay. All right?”

  JP sat back down. He looked directly at the television, avoiding eye contact with her. “Show me the video.”

  Sabre hit “Play” on the remote. The film had an eerie kind of “Blair Witch Project” appearance. There was a quick camera shot of the front of a house. “Bailey said this was the ‘Devil House’ they showed on the news. She said Apollo taped that one as well.”

  “Rewind that and pause on it,” JP said abruptly. He waited for a second. “That’s definitely the same house.”

  “Now, look at this,” Sabre said. She continued playing the DVD. The camera followed a fat man as he wobbled from his car toward the house. It was dark and the footage was obviously shot from behind the man.

  “Do you ever see his face?”

  “Not really,” Sabre said. She paused the DVD on the man but his face was turned at about a two-hundred-degree angle showing his right ear and cheek. “This is about the best shot. There’s another one in a few frames where he faces the camera more directly, but he’s in such dark shadows you can’t see him.” Sabre went forward. “Here it is.”

  “Hmm, maybe a tech guy could do something with that one.”

  Sabre started the disc again.

  “Wait,” JP said. “Go back to the car.”

  Sabre rewound it and paused on the car. “Can you tell what it is?” Sabre asked.

  “It’s old, really old. The shape looks like it might be from the forties, either a Plymouth or a Dodge.”

  “It’s so dark I can’t even tell what color the car is. And all that’s exposed is a small part of the front bumper and fender. How do you get all that?”

  “No, look, you can see a lot more than that. There’s part of the wheel well, the hood, and the headlight. You can even see a part of the grill. I can’t tell you for certain what it is, but I’ve had a little experience with old cars. I have a friend who could tell us more. I’ll show him the disc. He might even be able to tell us who the collector is.” JP continued to stare at the paused frame. Then he stood up and walked up to the screen. “And look, there’s some kind of bumper sticker.”

  “But all you can see is a curvy line. What good is that going to do?”

  JP pointed at the decal outlining it with his finger. “It looks like a double line, but I think it’s a line slightly inside the edge of the sticker. See how it comes to a point here to the left and then curves in and back out again.”

  “It could be anything … or nothing.”

  “The shape looks familiar but I can’t figure out why,” JP said.

  Sabre hit ”Play” again. They watched as the man walked stealthily to the back door, used a key to open the lock, and entered the “Devil House.” A very dim light showed through the window, then faded, then came on again.

  “What’s with the light?” Sabre asked.

  “It looks like he’s using a flashlight instead of turning on the lights.”

  “Maybe the electricity isn’t turned on.”

  “But it was on in the other film. I remember seeing a light bulb lit up.”

  Sabre looked at him with surprise. “You remember a light bulb?” She shook her head. “I guess that’s why you’re the detective.”

  “So, what else is on here?” JP asked. The edge started to leave his voice.

  “Not too much. A lot of down time, like Apollo’s waiting for something to happen, but then at the very end there’s something especially interesting.” Sabre ran through the rest of the film until she reached the last few frames. “Look who showed up.”

  “That’s Scott. Scott Jamison.”

  “Yeah. Dead man, Scott. Bailey’s mother’s boyfriend.”

  They watched as Scott walked up to the house, circled around to the back door, and went inside without knocking. And then there was a blank screen.

  “That’s it?” JP asked.

  “I’m afraid so. What do you make of it all?”

  “So far we know that Scott and the fat man are connected to the ‘Devil House.’ We know that Apollo and Bailey are involved in this mess, or they have at the very least seen something they shouldn’t have and Apollo felt compelled to film it.” JP nodded his head. “This must be the ‘special project’ Apollo’s friend, Josiah, was talking about. So, is this some kind of expression of art, or is it evidence?”

  “Well, whatever it started out to be, Apollo must think it’s important enough to bring it out in the open.”

  “But why wouldn’t he try to send the disc to his own lawyer if he thinks it could help him?” JP asked.

  Sabre’s head shot up and she looked at JP. “Because he didn’t want it ‘out in the open.’ He wanted to help Bailey.” Sabre paused. “But why wouldn’t he give us the third disc? There must be another one because Apollo’s mes
sage said to ‘keep the third one hidden.’”

  “Maybe they don’t know who they can trust. Maybe this is a test.”

  “All the more reason why I’m glad I went alone last night.”

  JP shook his head. He took a deep breath and sighed. “Please don’t do that again.”

  Sabre smiled a funny smile, scrunching her mouth to one side and wrinkling her nose. “Sorry, I can’t make that promise. If she needs me, I’ll have to go.”

  “Dang, woman. You’re about as stubborn as a blue-nosed mule!”

  27

  JP drove for the third time to the chicken farm near the Johnson family house where Cole’s mother claimed she obtained the chicken feet. The first time he went unannounced. The second time he had an appointment, but the owner had an emergency and wasn’t there when he arrived. So, JP still didn’t have a definite answer about the alleged satanic ritual abuse evidence found in the Johnson home. The mother maintained that she bought the cheapest meat she could to feed her family and that the farmer often gave her the chicken feet for free. Eating chicken feet seemed pretty gross to JP. Although he had never tried it, when he was young he was well aware of families in Texas who did eat them. He felt fortunate to not have been one of them. He lived in Texas for a while with his grandfather on a small ranch and he always had plenty to eat.

  The mother had offered no explanation for the goat blood.

  JP turned off the pavement and onto a dirt road leading up to the chicken farm. He parked alongside a blue 1970 Toyota Hilux pickup. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen that make and model. It was in pretty bad shape, and it had a lot of dents and gray primer splotches along one side where the paint may have been stripped. Duct tape held the passenger-side rearview mirror from falling off. The rear bumper appeared to be hanging on with the help of bailing wire. JP exited his car and walked around to the other side of the pickup, admiring its beauty even in its state of disrepair.

  Just as JP reached the other side, a man came around the dilapidated building and walked toward JP. “What can I do for you?” he asked.

  JP looked up. He took a couple of steps toward the man. “I’m JP Torn.” He reached his hand out to shake. “Are you Elliot Hammouri?”

 

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