“The good kind.”
“I mean, what kind of trouble are you in?”
“Oh, it’s not me. It’s my sister. She has herself in a mess and I’m worried about her kids.”
“What happened?”
“She hooked up with some guy who keeps beatin’ her up. Told her over and over again to leave him, which she did, but she always goes back. Offered to give him a bit of his own medicine, but Sarajean begged me not to. Now he’s hitting the kids, too.”
“Is she still with him?”
“Not living with him now. Social Services came in and took the kids away. That’s why she needs the lawyer.” The bartender returned with the man’s change and laid it on the edge of the bar. The man left it there. “So, do you know any good ones? Lawyers, that is.”
Sabre reached into her pocket, took out a business card, and handed it to him.
He flipped the card over and read her name aloud. “Attorney Sabre Orin Brown.” He looked surprised. “You’re a lawyer?” he asked. Then he looked her over. “Knew you wasn’t just some ordinary working girl. You’re much too classy for that. Right pretty, too.”
Sabre felt her face heat up. It must be the margarita, she thought. She couldn’t decide if she appreciated the comment or if it annoyed her.
“Sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to be fresh.” He reached his hand out to shake hers. “Clint Buchanon.”
Sabre shook his hand, smiled, and said, “No problem. Thank you for the compliment. Have your sister call me and I’ll talk to her. If I can’t represent her, I’ll give her a referral.”
“Really appreciate….”
Bob Clark walked up, put his arm around Sabre, and gave her a quick squeeze. “How’s my snookums?”
“I’m fine.” Sabre nodded toward the cowboy. “Bob, this is Clint Buchanon. He’s looking for an attorney for his sister.”
Bob reached out and shook his hand. “Bob Clark,” he said.
“Bob’s an attorney also,” Sabre said. “He does this kind of work as well.”
“Nice to meet you, sir.”
Bob turned back to Sabre. “You ready?”
Sabre took one last drink of her margarita, stood up, and said, “Let’s go.”
“Aren’t you going to finish your drink?” Bob asked.
“No, I’m good,” Sabre said. She looked at Clint. “It was nice to meet you. Enjoy your stay here in San Diego…if you can.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Clint said. “I’ll be sure to give your card to Sarajean.”
Sabre took a step toward the door. Bob picked up her margarita glass and finished it off.
“Picking up guys in bars now?” Bob asked, as they reached the door.
“He was just telling me about his sister. That’s why he’s in town.”
“I bet she never calls you…but he will.”
Sabre gave him a funny look. “You think? Well, if so, it was a pretty bad pickup line.”
“It worked on you, didn’t it?”
“No, it didn’t work on me. I’m not going out with the guy or anything. And besides, that’s not fair. I’ve had a rough day, dodging bullets and all.”
Bob shook his head. “That’s why I don’t represent kids if I can help it. Too dangerous.”
“Yeah, your clients are so much better. They just get you thrown in jail.”
They stepped into Bob’s car. “So, when can you get your car?”
“Monday. The repair shop couldn’t get to it today. I just barely made it in there before they closed. I’m lucky I could get it back from the San Diego PD.”
“They didn’t want to keep it for evidence?”
“No. They just took a bunch of photos and gave it back. It’s not like they needed prints or anything.” Bob’s car entered the freeway that would take them toward Sabre’s home. “Can you pick me up on Monday morning and give me a ride to court?”
“Sure, but you’ll be without a car the rest of the weekend. You don’t want to get a rental?”
“No, I don’t really need one. I’m not going anywhere. Besides, I have a bike if I need to go to the store for anything.”
***
Shortly after the two attorneys left the bar, the bartender returned and bussed the area where Sabre had been sitting. Clint Buchanon, aka Tyson Doyle Cooper, asked, “What was my lady friend drinking?”
“A Midori Margarita—blended.”
“Yeah, that’s right,” Ty said, as if he had forgotten.
He finished his beer, stood up, removed the card from his pocket and flipped it over so he could read it. “You’ll hear from me soon, Attorney Sabre Orin Brown.”
Chapter 18
The Martinez Case
Children: Ray, age 2 (M), Falicia, age 5 (F), Jesse (Jesus), age 7 (M)
Parents: Father—Gilberto Martinez, Mother—Juanita Martinez
Issues: Abuse, Domestic Violence
Facts: Mother beat the father with a lamp in front of the children. Alcohol abuse by both parents.
A medium-sized, mixed-breed dog strolled down the sidewalk as JP drove slowly toward the Martinez residence in National City. Three young Latino boys halted their soccer game so JP could pass. The neighborhood was old but generally well kept. Most of the lawns were manicured and contained beautiful flowering plants. Several of the houses were painted bright colors. A few had white picket fences, but more were surrounded by chain-link. JP counted three red doors in a two-block span. He looked for the number 422. The curbs weren’t marked, nor were some of the houses. He noted the numbers were declining as he passed 424. When he saw a house with only the four and the two, he pulled his car up to the curb. Other than the lack of recent attention to the yard, the house looked much like the rest of the neighborhood.
JP exited his car and approached a Mexican-American woman next door who was watering her plants. The woman appeared to be in her seventies. He introduced himself, explaining he was there on behalf of the Martinez children.
“I feel so bad for los niños. They are all very sweet, especially Jesse. He comes every Monday evening to put my trashcan out on the street. And when he comes home from school on Tuesday afternoon, he brings it back in for me. I offered to pay him, but he said no, so a lot of times I will give him cookies for his lunch and he always shares them with his brother and sister.”
“Do you know the parents?”
“Yes, they’ve lived here quite a while, maybe three years. Gilberto is a nice man. Juanita is another story. She’s muy loca. I hear her yelling and screaming all the time. When they first moved in, my husband, may he rest in peace…” She made the sign of the cross. “…wanted to give Gilberto a bit of his own medicine, but it didn’t take too long to see it was her, not him, creating the problems.”
“When Juanita lived here, did you talk to her very often?”
“She hardly talked to anyone. One time she saw me in the yard and she screamed at me because my cat went in her yard. She was muy boracha...you know, drunk. She threatened to kill my cat if he went there again.”
“Did anything happen to your cat?”
“No, but I try not to let him outside anymore.”
“Were you here the night Juanita was arrested?”
“You mean the last time, a couple of weeks ago?”
“Yes.”
“The cops come a lot to that house. Once this was a good, safe neighborhood. Now, you never know what is going to happen. I’ve lived here for almost fifty years and never saw a cop for the first forty. But it’s different now. A lot of the people are gone who raised their children here.” She paused.
JP wondered if she forgot the question, so he prompted her. “And the night of the arrest?”
“Yes. Yes, I was here. I didn’t go outside, though. I could see and hear it all from my window. I heard a lot of yelling inside the house and then Gilberto ran outside. Juanita followed right behind him, beating him with a lamp. He tripped and fell down and she jumped on him and just kept hitting him. The kids were all s
creaming and Jesse tried to pull his mom off of his dad. I wanted to help, but I knew I couldn’t really do anything. Several other neighbors came out of their houses, but no one really did anything except Patricia, who lives across the street. She took the two younger children away from the fight. She tried to get Jesse, too, but she had her hands full. I think she’s the one who called the cops.”
“Have you seen either of the parents since that night?”
“Gilberto has been there. I see him come in after work most days. Juanita came by late one afternoon with some tall woman. She took some things with her when she left.”
“Did you talk to her?”
“No. I haven’t spoken to either of them since they left. But she also came here earlier in the week, one evening, with that same woman.”
“Do you remember what day that was?”
The neighbor woman rubbed her brow. “Tuesday, I think. Yes, it was Tuesday because it was trash pickup day. I was on my way outside to get the trashcan. With Jesse gone I have to do it myself, you see.” She pointed her index finger at JP and shook it. “I miss that young man. I hope he’s getting cookies in his lunch. What do you think?”
“About what?”
“Do you think he’s getting a good lunch?”
“Yes, he’s in a good placement and I’m sure he’s getting plenty of cookies.” He placated her. He didn’t know whether the children were getting cookies or not, but according to Sabre the aunt was taking good care of them. “You say you saw Juanita on Tuesday. About what time?”
“Maybe five or six. It wasn’t quite dark.”
“Tell me what you saw.”
“Juanita was just coming up to the driveway when I saw her. I had just started out my door to get the trash, but I stopped when I saw her.” She pointed toward the driveway, moving her hand toward the house. “She walked right up there to the house and went inside. Gilberto came home right after that. And she must’ve been drunk because she started yelling right away.”
“Did you see or hear anything after that?”
“It was quiet for about fifteen minutes or so and then she got really loud again. Then Gilberto came out carrying his shirt, jumped in his car, and left. She ran out in her underwear, screaming at him as he drove off. Then she went back inside, got dressed, and left, too.”
“Did she get in a car?”
“No, she walked down the street.”
“Did you see when she came up if she was walking or in a car?”
“She walked part way up the walk with that tall woman, but then the woman turned around and walked down the street. I think she drove off.”
“Did you see what kind of car she drove? Or the color, perhaps?”
“No, not really.”
JP thanked her for her time and walked across the street to speak to Patricia and several other neighbors. The stories were all about the same. Everyone loved Gilberto and hated or feared Juanita. Every neighbor had had some incident with her. Most of them were afraid of what she might do. CPS had been called several times. The police had been there on numerous occasions, but this was the first time anyone knew of an arrest. Patricia was the only other neighbor who knew anything about the Tuesday visit and she hadn’t seen Juanita or Gilberto arrive. She only saw them leave.
As JP opened his car door and was about to step out, his phone rang. It was Bob.
Chapter 19
As Sabre showered, she wondered why the water seemed to wash away some of the load she carried from a rough day. The feeling didn’t last long, but it helped for a little while. She made herself a cup of herbal tea and sat on the sofa in her pajamas. No matter how hard she tried to clear her mind and relax, the thoughts just wouldn’t go away. She wondered how Dr. Heller was faring and why she had been attacked. She wondered who killed Judge Mitchell. She thought about her cases: Kordell King and what he had to endure with his step-father; the Martinez children and the fear they dealt with every day; and Emma Tran and how she could have died in the fire if those boys hadn’t saved her. And she thought about how she had dodged a bullet today—literally.
She jumped, almost spilling her tea when the doorbell rang. She set her cup on the end table, stood up, and went to the door. She peeked through the peephole, saw a familiar face, and opened the door.
“Bob called you, didn’t he?” she asked.
“Yep,” JP said. He stood there in the doorway. For a few seconds there was silence. “Can I come in?”
Sabre stepped back, opening the door wide. “Of course. I’m sorry.” Her emotions spread from anger at Bob for squealing on her to pleasure at JP’s concern for her. However, this isn’t the way she wanted his attention. She hated playing the role of victim.
“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine, really.”
“Getting shot at is not all in a day’s work,” JP said.
“I wasn’t shot at exactly.”
“And you know that for certain?”
“I just happened to be where someone was shooting. It was a drive-by. The guy shot up the whole neighborhood.”
“That makes me feel better,” JP said sarcastically.
“Would you like some tea?” Sabre asked. “Or something else to drink?” She moved toward the kitchen. JP followed.
“No thanks.”
Sabre turned back, almost bumping into JP. His hand went up automatically and caught her before she crashed into him. He stood there for a second with his hand just below her shoulder. A second passed when their eyes caught. Then Sabre stepped away, walked around JP, and sat down on one end of the sofa. “Have a seat,” she said, gesturing with her hand to a spot near her. JP sat down, leaving about a foot between them. “Tell me what you found out today on the Martinez case.”
“I found out that everyone loves Gilberto and hates or fears Juanita, which is no surprise. I also discovered that Juanita went back to her house on Tuesday evening in violation of the restraining order. According to the neighbor, she was intoxicated. Gilberto came home shortly thereafter. There was a loud scene when he came in, followed by a half hour of quiet. Gilberto came out carrying his shirt and drove away with Juanita yelling obscenities at him while he was leaving. She left shortly thereafter.”
“So, the same night that Scary Larry was killed Juanita stopped to see her husband, probably had a conjugal visit, and then left drunk and angry,” Sabre said. “Did anyone see how she left?” Sabre picked up her teacup from the end table and wrapped her hands around it.
“A tall woman had dropped her off before Gilberto arrived home and then she left, I think. The neighbor was unclear about that. She saw that woman walk part way up the walkway with Juanita, but then the woman turned around and left. The neighbor saw a car leaving, but she didn’t actually see Juanita get in or out of the car. And she couldn’t tell me anything about the car, not even the color.”
“Would she have had time to go kill the judge?”
“Possibly. I told Bob what I knew about his client and asked him to see if she had an alibi. If she does, it’s in her best interest to tell us. If not, then I’ll investigate further to see if I can find out where she was.”
Sabre took a sip of her tea.
JP started to reach out and touch Sabre, but then pulled his hand back. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She nodded. “Yes, I’m fine. Really.”
“I don’t like your going in those neighborhoods and getting shot at.”
Sabre started to protest again. “Those bullets weren’t meant for me. It was….”
“Just a random drive-by,” he finished her sentence. “You don’t know that for sure.”
“It could’ve happened in any neighborhood. Children are being shot in schools, and there are innocent victims in malls and on street corners. It’s not safe anywhere, and I have to see the children if I’m going to represent them. I have to see their living environments. And I’m not going to stop doing my job because of some crazy, random drive-by shooting.
”
JP stood up. “You’re about as stubborn as a mule halfway home from plowin’ all day.”
Sabre smiled. “You’re a bit of a mule yourself, you know.” She set her teacup down and stood up. “You do need to check out Isaiah Banks, the stepfather on the King case. I think he’s a pretty bad actor.”
“I’ll do that tomorrow, along with Tran.”
“Speaking of Tran. I saw Emma today. She’s a beautiful little girl. The foster mother swears that Kim-Ly, the mother, is not as old as she claims to be. She thinks she’s no more than sixteen. Maybe you can see what you can find out because if she’s a minor herself, it’ll change how we proceed.”
“I will. By the way, did you get a chance to see Durham?” JP asked.
“No, I planned to go today but I ran out of time. I’ll go see him tomorrow morning.”
“But you don’t have a car. Do you want a ride?”
“I have my bike and it’s only a few miles to the Hall.”
JP walked to the door. “Well, be careful.”
Sabre touched him briefly on his arm as he opened the door. He stepped out. “Lock your door,” he said.
She heard him walk away, but not until after the dead bolt was secured.
Chapter 20
“I made you grits with your eggs,” Robin said to JP. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
JP looked at her sternly with an edge in his voice. “Where did you get the grits?”
Robin scrunched her face and bowed her head slightly, like a child caught in the act. “I walked to the market yesterday. It was only a couple of blocks and it was such a beautiful day.”
“You can’t do that,” JP said a little louder than he intended. He reached across the table and touched her hand. His voice softened. “Robin, please don’t go out until we know for sure it’s safe. I can’t be here every minute to watch you. I really need you to be careful.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” She looked at him with her big doe-like eyes. “Your eggs are getting cold.”
The Advocate's Ex Parte (The Advocate Series Book 5) Page 10
