“Great!” Chay exclaimed. “We are going to catch him and you will be able to identify him.”
By this time, I didn’t hate him anymore. Yet for years I had planned the perfect words I would say if I ever saw him. I wanted him to know that I was a strong woman. He had not crushed me. This was a speech I had rehearsed countless times in my mind, but that plan fell by the wayside.
About five months after that fateful day when I stumbled into church and reconnected with God our savior, I got a call from Chay. I was at choir practice when the phone rang and because Chay and I usually texted, I knew it had to be something important. We talked for a little bit and then she asked me:
“Sister, do you think it’s time to tell other people what really happened to you?”
“Yes,” I answered without hesitation.
“Do you think you’re ready to do it?”
From the moment I told the truth to my family at the age of sixteen, I had barely spoken of it—at least not in any detail. For a long time, the thought of talking about my abuse in front of the people who loved me most, let alone strangers, was absolutely unbearable. Chay and I had talked about the importance of speaking up about these kinds of things and how it affects so many women but I just wasn’t in a place where I could even process what it had meant for me. The damage was so deep that it was still too hard to talk about.
But after all the changes that had taken place over the past five months, after all the soul-searching and learning to forgive myself and love myself for who I am, I knew I was ready. Speaking up about what had happened to me was more important than my own pride or fear of humiliation. Sexual abuse shouldn’t exist and the more we talk about it and show girls and boys all around the world that it’s okay to speak up and that they’re not alone, the better off we will all be as a society. As a young girl I had spent hours and hours watching TV, hoping someone would talk about it. Now I had the opportunity to take a stand and do just that.
Chay wasn’t yet a superstar, but her music was very popular; her albums were already selling hundreds of thousands of units and her songs were constantly on the Spanish radio charts. Coming out on Spanish-language TV to talk about such a taboo subject—especially within the Mexican-American community—as sexual abuse, would be putting her career at risk. Plenty of people tried to dissuade her, saying that the public would not like her anymore for airing her dirty laundry in public but Chay was determined. She wanted to talk about what had happened; she wanted to show the world that sexual abuse is not something one has to endure alone.
“One reason I want to do this is because I want to reach some frightened child who this might be happening to right now. When that child hears your ordeal, I want her to be encouraged enough to know that if you can get through it, she can too.”
But Chay also had a second reason: she hoped that being on TV would help us get information on where Trino was, not only for us to bring him to justice, but also so her kids could see their father again. My niece, Jacqie, was eight when her father disappeared. She didn’t really understand all the circumstances of his disappearance and had begged to see him from that day on. She was now a young woman of sixteen. Chay would reassure her, “I promise we are going to find your dad, and when he is put in jail, I will take you to visit him. I promise.”
Chay spoke to Jacqie and Chiquis and they too were ready to talk about their abuse in public, so Chay booked us for a sit-down interview on Escándalo TV with the one and only Charytín.
The interview took place at Chay’s house in Corona, and it feels like ages ago when I think about it: the four of us squeezed together on the big couch in her living room, answering question after question. It was the first time Chiquis, Jacqie, and I did a TV interview and we were all so nervous. Chay was nervous too, but as always, she was holding it together for the rest of us. But despite the difficulty of the subject, Charytín somehow managed to make us feel comfortable and we were able to talk in all honesty about what had happened.
By the time the interview had ended, I was so proud of how far we had come. The experience had been terrifying, but I knew we were making a difference in other peoples’ lives and that meant the world to me. After so many years of wallowing in my own self-pity, thinking no one in the world had it harder than me, it felt extraordinary to be able to do something meaningful, something important that would help other girls going through the same thing I had gone through, or even worse. At one point during the interview, Chay explained that what motivated her most to do the show was that Chiquis had come to her one day saying that four of her five friends had been sexually abused, and there were some girls whose mothers didn’t believe them. I knew my journey had been very difficult, but I felt blessed to have a sister who believed me the instant I told her. Learning that some girls didn’t even have that made me realize even more the importance of what we were doing.
The interview aired the first week of April 2006 but we weren’t quite prepared for the firestorm that followed. The media went crazy with the news. Some people applauded Chay and us for our bravery; others accused Chay of just using the abuse as a publicity stunt to sell more records. For better or for worse, we had gotten people to talk about it and that, at least, was a triumph for us.
A couple of weeks later, there was so much buzz about the topic that K-Love radio, one of the most popular stations in Los Angeles, asked Chay and me to come in for an interview.
The eight a.m. host asked us to give an update on the sexual abuse story. We let the audience know that our brother Lupe had set up a fund to offer a fifty-thousand-dollar reward for information leading to the arrest of Trino.
Seconds later, the phones started ringing off the hook.
Plenty of people called up saying they had new information. At first we got excited but quickly realized that most of the tips were either irrelevant or they happened years earlier. But we didn’t lose hope. We took call after call, hoping to unearth even a small clue that might help us in finding Trino.
In the end, we received two very important calls that day. The first was from an FBI agent. He had heard our story and was moved by it. He was from Florida but he was in Southern California working on an unrelated case. He had caught the interview on his car radio and he immediately felt the need to reach out to us.
“I am a Christian,” he said, “and felt in my heart that I needed to call you. I want to offer you my help.”
He was a federal agent and could therefore not be involved in a state case—helping us, in fact, put him at risk of losing his job—but he still wanted to help us in any way he could. He couldn’t, of course, tell us his name but he asked us to call him “Angel”—he was our angel sent from God. And from that moment on, Angel stayed by our side.
The second call came from a woman who, as soon as she came on the air, said, “Jenni, I really love you and want to talk with you off the air.” We were surprised, but there was nothing to lose so my sister agreed and jotted down the woman’s number. She phoned her back later that morning. Sure enough, she had something interesting to say.
“Jenni, I am Trino’s neighbor,” she explained over the phone. “I’ve seen him drunk, bragging about being your husband—and about the kids. One night, he was even boasting of those terrible things you have accused him of.”
Chay was floored and asked her to continue. “I can tell you where he is, but I really don’t want to get involved. My husband told me to stay out of it and that it’s none of my business.” She paused. “Please, I just want to help but I’m not going to give you my real name.”
“I understand. You have my word, and I appreciate what you are doing,” replied Chay.
The woman then gave us Trino’s address, which Chay wrote down. She thanked the woman profusely. “But what about the reward?” she asked.
The woman hesitated. “I don’t want all the money, but we do need ten thousand dollars because my mother is
sick and we want to get her to Mexico.”
Chay thanked her again for her help. If it hadn’t been for this woman, we might still be looking for Trino till this day. Her bravery and her selflessness were determining factors in what was to come.
A couple of days later, Chay asked me to meet the caller at a McDonald’s near where she lived in North Corona, just a few miles south of Chay’s house in Corona. We were shocked. All that time, Trino had been so close to my sister and we hadn’t even known it.
All of a sudden, it made sense—he had stayed so close to Chay because he knew that was the one place we would never expect him to be. The confirmation that Trino was so near, far from frightening me, brought me peace. I felt as if God had placed him in my hands as soon as I was able to give Him all my hate, anger, and desire for revenge. I felt calm and collected, clear-minded and focused—we weren’t playing hide-and-seek anymore; we were playing chess. Anger makes you lose control and I knew I needed love, strength, and a sound mind to finish the game.
We all agreed that it would be good for me to be the one to go to meet her in person. Not only was I the person who had seen him most recently, but also I had reached a point in my life where I was at peace with my past. I felt tremendous strength inside me and each step that brought us closer to Trino also brought me closer to my healing. I no longer wanted to find Trino because I was angry; I wanted to find justice, especially for the children who have never received justice.
So on another beautiful sunny Southern California day, I set out on the long drive from Lakewood to Corona. Part of me was nervous that the whole thing might be a scam, but I was excited that we were getting so close to finding justice. From the moment I sat down to talk to the lady, I knew she was sincere. She was terrified of being involved and by the detailed description she gave me of Trino, I knew that it was really him. She described him as having dark hair, medium build, and he had two kids. She said he was a kind and charismatic man and that she had never had problems with him as a neighbor. In fact, her son was friendly with Trino’s stepson, whose name she mentioned in passing. I knew it had to be Trino because no fan would ever know that name. That’s when I knew for sure. So, in good faith, I gave her an envelope containing ten thousand dollars in one hundred dollar bills.
As soon as I got into the car after meeting her, I called Angel and said, “I know where Trino lives. It’s in Corona.” My voice was shaking as I told him because I had a feeling in my gut that this time we were really going to find him. Not only did we finally have the right information as well as the help we needed; this time I was ready.
Angel was excited with the news. To him, this was more than a big break.
“What’s the address?” he asked immediately. “On my free time, I will stake out the house with a camera. I’ll interview the neighbors as discreetly as possible and will let you know what I find.”
Sure enough, that’s what he did. For a couple of weeks, Angel hung around Trino’s neighborhood getting the lay of the land. He met Trino’s neighbors, observed his comings and goings—as well as those of his family—and from all the information he gathered, it became clear that it was, indeed, Trino. Angel would call me from time to time to fill me in on the situation and the whole time I was on pins and needles, waiting to find out what would be our next move.
“I made a video of him throwing out his trash,” he told me one day. “Let’s meet somewhere and I’ll show it to you so you can tell me if it’s really him.”
I hopped into my car right away. As I drove to meet with Angel at a Starbucks in the Long Beach Town Center, my mind flew back to that day, months earlier, when I was sitting at NORM’s in Bellflower on the phone with my sister and in tears because I had failed to catch Trino. “Everything happens for a reason,” she had said. And she was right. If it hadn’t been for the fact that I had seen him just a few months earlier, I might have not been able to identify him. I hadn’t been foolish for not catching him; it was all part of God’s plan.
It didn’t take more than five seconds for me to know it was Trino. There he was, living a normal life, taking out some bags of garbage. It seemed so surreal to me that this person I’d been thinking about for all these years, this man who had hurt my sister, my nieces, and me so deeply was still roaming around, a free man. What was interesting, however, was that as he was throwing out the trash he seemed to be glancing around, a person with his guard up—a man with a guilty conscience.
I looked up and told Angel: “I am one hundred percent sure that’s him.”
“Good,” he said. “I’ll take the necessary steps to see that this case is reopened.”
Angel called the Los Angeles Police Department and gave them all the information he had found out. That was when he learned that the Long Beach detective who had been investigating the case nine years prior (nine years!) had passed away. They were unable to locate the records, which meant that with the detective’s death, the entire case had faded into oblivion. No wonder our calls weren’t being returned. No wonder no one was following up on the case. It was a frustrating discovery, but now, with a new team looking at the fresh evidence, significant progress was finally being made.
• • •
On Saturday, April 22, 2006, my phone rang. It was Angel.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“For what?”
“Today is the day we arrest Trino. Do you want to be present?”
Of course I did! I was nervous, but overjoyed. Finally, after all those years of praying, after all those years of suffering, Trino was going to be brought before justice. My heart had accepted God and I no longer craved revenge; all I needed at this point was closure. I needed to know that Trino was going to face us for what he had done. I also wanted other victims to see that justice is possible and share our victory as if it was theirs. I wanted to bring hope to the hopeless.
I couldn’t wait to tell my sister. She was out of town doing a show, but I knew she would celebrate as soon as she found out.
“This is a day I’ve been waiting for! Justice is going to be served,” she said. She wasn’t able to come with me for the arrest, but my mother bravely offered to join me. Even though Chay was far away, I could feel her strength and her support. She had promised to stand by me no matter what and that’s exactly what she did.
A few hours later, Angel came by to pick us up. We drove from Long Beach to Corona in an unmarked van with dark, tinted windows. We would be able to see Trino, but he wouldn’t be able to see us. I was pleased about that, because I was fearful of what might happen if he knew I was there.
We drove to the address we had gotten from the woman on the radio and the cops jumped out of several police cars that came screeching to a halt. Trino was standing outside his house, peacefully watering his lawn. The police officers rushed up to him and when they showed him the arrest warrant, he just bowed his head and complied with the officers as they told him to put his hands behind his back and they clamped on the handcuffs. It was as if he had been waiting for it all along.
A few seconds later, Trino’s wife—who had been with him since his split from Chay—came out of the house yelling and screaming: “This isn’t true! No! He’s an innocent man! Don’t take him, please, don’t take him!” She was sobbing uncontrollably. The police had to hold her away.
As the police officers walked Trino to their vehicle, his daughter, who was about eight years old at the time, came running out of the house. She was crying and begging, “Please don’t take my daddy! Please don’t take him away!”
Seeing his daughter and his wife suffer like that just broke my heart. I hated that I was contributing to breaking up a family and, in all honesty, if I had been in either of their shoes, I would have probably been just as distraught. And the fact was, I knew how sweet Trino could be. I knew he was an attentive dad and how hard it was to believe that he could be capable of such a thing. I felt particularly
bad for Trino’s youngest daughter. Just like Chiquis, Jacqie, and Michael, she was losing her father and it tore me apart to see that unfold before my eyes.
On the other hand, I had to genuinely ask myself, Had he done to his youngest daughter what he did to Chiquis, Jacqie, and me? I couldn’t help thinking that she was about the same age I was when he started the abuse and it was a very real possibility that he was either doing it, or about to start doing it to her. We simply couldn’t allow that to happen again and that thought alone kept me going the following months, especially at times when I felt myself go weak in the knees.
The police officers put Trino in a pickup truck that was about ten feet from where we were sitting inside the van. I was able to catch a long glimpse of him and what I saw wasn’t the Trino I’d been terrified of for all those years. I saw a small, weak man who looked ashamed, with his head hung low. A deeply flawed man.
In that instant, I realized I no longer felt hate for Trino, but God’s compassion. After all those years of suffering and the many months of rediscovering the power of God’s love, compassion, and forgiveness, I no longer held an ounce of hatred toward Trino in my heart. For so many years, I had lived in a prison of his making—one of pain, depression, and anger. But now I was free.
Without saying a word, I watched as they took him away. My mom and I had remained silent during the entire arrest. About five minutes into the drive home, all of a sudden, I started screaming for joy. The reality of what had just happened hit me full force: justice really exists! At the top of my lungs I yelled, “Glory to God! You are so good!”
Mom was crying with happiness.
Even Angel couldn’t contain his joy. “This is why I love my job. For moments like this.”
twelve
on trial
Trino was behind bars, but our ordeal was far from being over.
In the days following the arrest, Trino’s bail was set at one million dollars—given his history, the authorities were concerned that he was a flight risk. On the other hand, Chay’s children were having a hard time dealing with what was unfolding. They loved their dad and didn’t want anything to happen to him. Chiquis, in particular, was having a very hard time because Trino’s entire family had been calling her a liar for years and she was understandably shaken. I felt terrible for what they were going through and so did Chay—as always, she was there to support them every step of the way. Chay had her hands full with what has going on at home so she asked me to handle, as much as possible, the requests coming in from the court, the attorneys, and the detectives concerning the investigation.
My Broken Pieces : Mending the Wounds from Sexual Abuse Through Faith, Family and Love (9781101990087) Page 15
