The Advocate's Conviction (16 page)

“Excuse me,” JP said. “I’m working with an attorney in the juvenile court system and we’re looking for a missing girl. She’s been missing for a while and we need to find her and keep her safe.” He showed her a picture of Bailey. “Do you know this girl?”

After a quick glance at the photo she said, “Yes, she goes to my school. Her name is Bailey.” She paused. “Bailey something. I don’t know her last name. She was in my English class last year.”

JP was frustrated that this young girl was even talking to him. She shouldn’t be. She opened the door for him and didn’t ask for a badge. She must’ve assumed what he had implied, that he was with law enforcement, but nevertheless she shouldn’t have. He didn’t go inside, but he thought how easy it was for deviants to get what they want. “What can you tell me about her?”

“Not much. She dropped out of school last year and she hasn’t been back.”

“So you haven’t seen her recently?”

“No … yes … maybe …” she looked up and wrinkled her nose.

“What?” JP asked.

“I think I saw her one day by my friend Shellie’s house.”

“But you’re not sure it was her?”

“The face looked just like her, but with pimples. She never had pimples before. And she was thinner. Bailey was always kinda … plump.”

“Did you get a good look at her?”

“Yes. I think I surprised her. I was going toward the back door of the house because it’s a lot closer to Shellie’s room. She came from around the corner of the house so we were face to face for a second.”

“Did you talk to her?”

“No. I started to say something but she didn’t answer. She just took off.”

“Did you ask Shellie about her?”

“I did, but she acted like she didn’t know what I was talking about.”

JP thanked her for her help, but before he left he said, “You need to be more careful with strangers. I’ve worked with the law for many years and I know how bad it is out there. Please, don’t open your door for strangers and if someone identifies themselves as law enforcement, ask for their badge.” She pulled the door closed and locked it. JP was a little upset at himself for saying what he did, but these kids need to be more careful. He hoped he hadn’t scared her too much, just enough to make her think next time.

He drove directly to Shellie’s house. No one answered when he knocked on the front door. He wondered if she had left or if her friend had already called her and warned her. As he walked around to the back door he could hear music blaring, although he didn’t really consider “loud noise with someone yelling in the background” as music. Apparently the record companies did because they seemed to make a lot of money from it.

Surprisingly, Shellie opened the back door. “Oh, it’s you,” she said.

“Yes, it’s me. Your friend called you, didn’t she?”

“She texted me. I thought it was her coming over.”

“Is your dad home?”

“No and he doesn’t need to know about this. Anyway, she’s wrong. Bailey hasn’t been here.”

“Shellie, I know differently. And you need to help her.”

“I am helping her.”

“You’re helping her commit a crime. You’re helping to keep her in danger. You’re helping to make her prey for every sick pervert that walks the streets looking for vulnerable young girls.”

“Bailey can protect herself.”

“No.” JP shook his head. “She can’t. How’s she going to do that? Does she have a gun?”

“No,” she snapped. Then she looked up at JP. “I don’t think she does. No. She wouldn’t have a gun.”

“Shellie, listen to me. Bailey is not safe and neither are you if you know where she is. First of all, you’re breaking the law by hiding her.”

“I’m not hiding her.”

“If you know where she is and you’re not telling, then you’re committing a crime. And who knows who may be looking for her besides the police? If I can find you, so can someone else.”

Shellie started to cry. “I don’t know where she is. She wouldn’t tell me.” She sniffled. “Do you think they’ll come after me?”

“Who?”

“The ones who are looking for Bailey?”

“Do you know who’s looking for her?”

“The devil worshippers.”

JP tried not to show his surprise, but he was caught off guard. This was the only case he had received recently that was not connected to the devil
—
and now it was. He continued to ask more questions but was unable to gain any more information from Shellie. She must’ve sensed she had already said more than she should have.

“Shellie, please call me if you hear from Bailey again. She could die out there.” He hated to sound so dramatic, but it was the truth. Before he handed her another card, he wrote a phone number on the back. “If you can, please try to convince Bailey to call her attorney. I’ve written her cell number on the back of my card. Sabre can help her if she will just let her. Can you do that?”

She nodded her head.

“Oh, and when you talk to Bailey, please tell her that her attorney is meeting with Apollo just as she asked her to do.”

JP called Sabre when he returned to his car. He had resisted buying an earpiece, claiming one shouldn’t talk while driving. But he had to admit there were times he could accomplish a lot more if he made his calls while on the road. Maybe this weekend I’ll pick one up.

Sabre answered her phone on the second ring. JP said, “I have some things to go over with you, but I want to follow up on Cole first. Can we meet in your office tomorrow?” He listened as she responded. “Eleven-thirty it is.” He hung up the phone, started his engine, and drove off.

It was nearly six o’clock when he pulled up in front of Hansen Plumbing where Cole’s father was last employed. He had called ahead to make sure someone would be there, but they closed at six, so JP was concerned. As he parked, he could see the sign still read “Open.” He walked in and approached a gray-haired woman behind the counter who appeared to be in her late sixties. She looked up from where she was gathering her things. “Can I help you?”

“Yes,” JP said. “Are you the owner?”

She nodded her head. “My husband and I own the business. He’s the plumber. I take care of the books.”

JP handed her a card. “I’m JP Torn. I’m working for an attorney in juvenile court who’s looking for a missing eight-year-old child.”

“What can I do for you?”

“The child’s father is Dean Johnson. I understand he was an employee of yours.”

“He used to be. It’s been over a year. We hated to lay him off with all those kids, but times are tough. The plumber’s assistants had to go. We had three of them then. Dean had been with us for six years. The next assistant was laid off about six months later, and if things don’t improve soon, the last one will be going. It’s hard, though. My husband’s getting too old to do all the work himself, but we’re just not getting the calls. I guess people are buying their own snakes and doing their own work, or the big companies that can afford to advertise are getting the business. I just don’t know.”

JP wondered if she’d ever stop talking. It seemed like a good place to cut in. “Do you know if he was hired anywhere else?”

“Not anywhere around here in Vista. I’m pretty familiar with the plumbing community. I’d know if he is working anywhere close. He could be in San Diego, but he’s not here in North County.”

“Was he a good employee?”

“He was a good worker.”

“Did you ever have any problems with him?”

“Sometimes he came in a little late on Monday mornings smelling like liquor. Between you and me, I think he was a weekend drunk. He never smelled like that any other day of the week and he never missed work. I think it was just a weekend thing. But that’s what made us decide to let him go first. We figured the weekends would eventually turn into more and we couldn’t risk it. My husband hated to let him go. Said he was by far the best worker of the three, but he agreed that if times got worse so would he. People with that sort of problem just can’t help themselves. My father was like that. He just couldn’t stop drinking. Went to his grave with a bottle in his hand. That’s why I don’t drink. Oh, I have an occasional glass of wine with dinner, but that’s all.”

JP wondered how he was going to get her to stop talking so he could leave when she picked up her purse and stepped out from behind the counter. “If there’s nothing else, Mr. Torn, I’ll be closing up.”

“That will be all. You’ve been very helpful,” he said, as he turned and walked quickly toward the door before she could say anything else.

JP drove to the Vista Station of the San Diego County Sheriff’s Department on Melrose. He had never worked out of Vista. Usually he had been stationed downtown and in east county, but he had some close friends at this station. It didn’t take him long to find his friend, Ernie Cook.

“Hey, JP. How are you, brother?” Ernie greeted him with a big smile.

“I’m good. And you?”

“Life is good. The scouts are out in full force this year. It’s my boy’s senior year, you know. And he’s really hot this year, already beating last year’s records. I think he grew a half a foot over the summer.”

“Any word from Michigan?”

“Oh yeah, and he had about twenty other offers as well.”

“You’ve come a long way with that boy.”

“So, what brings you into my neighborhood?”

“I’m working on a juvenile dependency case. We have a missing eight-year-old boy that lived in this area. I’m sure you’ve seen the photos. There’s been a Pick Up and Detain Order out for nearly two weeks.” JP took the photos of Cole and his father out of his file. “This is the boy, and this is his father, Dean Johnson. I don’t think Cole is anywhere around here, but I was hoping I could track his father down.”

“Do you think his father has him?”

“It’s a long shot, but one worth checking out. The father left Mom and the five kids over a year ago and no one seems to have heard from him since.” Ernie turned toward his computer and started to input his name when JP said, “I’ve already run a criminal check on him. All I could find was a really old drunk-driving charge. According to his wife and his last employer he still has a drinking problem, or at least did when they last saw him.”

“You checked his work record?”

“I haven’t found anything for the last year. He formerly worked at a place called Hansen’s Plumbing as a plumber’s assistant.”

“Any other family?”

“Not here. They’re somewhere in Arkansas and so far I haven’t found any evidence of him showing up there, but he could be anywhere.”

“So what can I do to help?”

“The guy lost his wife, his kids, his job, and he has a drinking problem. I’m thinking it may have been too much and he hit the streets.”

“I can make copies of his photo and pass it out to the guys working the beat. They’ll ask around. I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

JP reached his hand out to shake Ernie’s. “It was nice seeing you.”

“You too, brother. Maybe next year we can take a trip to Michigan and watch my boy play.”

“I’d like that.”

JP drove back to Cole’s neighborhood on the outside chance that he would spot him. It was a pattern he had developed ever since Cole went missing: A couple of times a day he would canvas the area hoping for some sign of little Cole. He drove up and down the streets between Cole’s and Hayden’s foster homes. He drove around the park and made his way to the gas station where he stopped and spoke with Mikey, the clerk. From all of the reports that Mikey had collected from his fellow employees, the boy had not returned to the store. And JP found no visible signs of him anywhere on the streets.

It had been nearly forty-eight hours now since anyone had reported seeing Cole. The thought of what that might mean made JP’s stomach turn.

23

“I thought you didn’t have court this morning,” Bob said to Sabre as she walked into juvenile court.

“Good morning to you, too,” Sabre said, smiling at her friend. “I don’t, but I just received word they have Apollo’s arraignment on calendar this morning.”

“Already? Isn’t that kind of quick?”

“It is, but the law says they have to have the hearing no later than seventy-two hours after they pick the minor up. There’s nothing saying they can’t do it sooner. I’d be curious to know who’s pushing this one through, though.”

Bob put his arm around Sabre’s shoulder. “Sobs, I don’t do delinquency cases so I haven’t seen it first hand, but isn’t it like dependency? Don’t they exclude everyone from the courtroom?”

Sabre shook her head. “Not the other attorneys. Most of the judges want them sitting in there so they can complete their calendars. They’re afraid they’ll lose them to a dependency courtroom. Judge Scary Larry calls it the ‘black hole.’ Remember, it used to be like that in dependency too.”

“That’s right. It was that way until our presiding judge, Judge Jerk-off, took over and then embarrassed himself when he thought two of the attorneys were the parents on the case and kept speaking to them as if they were.”

Sabre laughed at Bob’s play on Judge Shirkoff’s name. “He deserved to be embarrassed. He’d been here over a year and he still didn’t recognize the attorneys who work here everyday.”