The Advocate's Conviction (17 page)

“That’s because he never talked to anyone. He came in here with all the hype about working together as a team and then he hardly ever took the bench, never showed up for any kind of functions, and basically hid out.”

“Anyway, I want to see who’s appointed to represent Apollo. Hopefully, it’s someone who’ll be easy to work with and will help us find Bailey. I checked the calendar. It’s in Department Five, Scary Larry’s department.”

“Why do they call him that? Is he mean?”

“No, he’s just a wild card. You never know what he’s going to do or how he’ll rule on a case. He’s very unpredictable and he has a sarcastic sense of humor. If you have a losing case you may as well be in his court because then you at least have a chance. But when you have a case you should win, you really don’t want to have Scary Larry on it. When he doesn’t follow the law and you call him on it, his standard response is, ‘That’s what appellate courts are for.’ Oh yeah, and he yells a lot.”

“At who?”

“Attorneys, defendants, parents, anyone who happens to cross him that morning.”

Two sheriffs walked past Bob and Sabre and exited the front door. Another walked up and stood close to the metal detector. Sabre looked out and saw a crowd gathering near the entrance. A news van pulled up and a man stepped out carrying a huge camera, along with a woman carrying a microphone. They appeared to be filming and questioning a middle-aged Mexican-American man and a blonde woman about the same age. The couple kept walking toward the courthouse, not responding to the questions. When they neared the door, the sheriffs stepped up and let the couple enter, keeping the news crew outside.

“Who’s that?” Bob asked.

Sabre shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. There must be some high profile case on calendar this morning. I haven’t heard about anything, have you?”

“No. That’s strange.”

“I’m going into the courtroom. I’ll see you later. Do you have anything on calendar this afternoon?”

“I have a continuing trial. How about you?”

“I’ll be here for an adoption. One of my minors has been waiting a long time to have this finalized. She wanted me there. So I’m going.”

Sabre went directly to Department Five where two other delinquency attorneys were also in attendance. The judge looked up as she walked in. “Good morning, Your Honor,” she said. He nodded and seemed to force a smile. Uh, oh, Sabre thought. He must be in a bad mood. She was glad she didn’t have a case before him this morning. She sat down in the back of the courtroom.

Sabre sat patiently as they called the morning calendar. Attorneys and parents went in and out of the front door. Defendants ranging from twelve to seventeen were escorted by the sheriffs through the back door from Juvenile Hall. Approximately forty-five minutes later the Apollo Servantes case came up. A different assistant district attorney, a tall, thin man about forty-five years old, came into the courtroom to prosecute his case. Sabre wondered why it was given special attention.

The judge spoke. “Who’s representing the minor, Apollo Servantes?”

A panel attorney, Roberto Arroyo, stepped forward. “Your Honor, the public defender has a conflict on this case. I’m on detentions this morning and I’ll be requesting to be appointed.”

The assistant D.A. stood up. “Your Honor, the state asks that the courtroom be cleared for this hearing.”

The judge didn’t ask for a reason and Arroyo didn’t object. “So ordered,” the judge said. The three remaining attorneys and Sabre exited the courtroom chatting about why they had to leave. They assumed the reason must be related to the news vans outside.

About five minutes later, Attorney Roberto Arroyo came out of Department Five and escorted Apollo’s parents, the Mexican-American man and blonde woman, into the courtroom.

Sabre was pleased Roberto had the case. They had been friends for a long time. They first met when Sabre came to work at juvenile court. Both were members of the juvenile court panel and consequently had many cases together. At the time, Roberto was newly divorced with a three-year-old daughter with a hippopotamus collection. Roberto was always buying her a new stuffed animal. They easily became friends and even tried to date once. They went to see “Of Mice and Men” at the Old Globe Theater in Balboa Park. The date was nice, and Sabre couldn’t remember why there wasn’t a second date. The best she could remember was that they both opted for friendship.

Roberto’s daughter was now about nine years old, making him even more apt to help Sabre find Bailey. She knew he’d be reasonable to work with and would help her as long as it didn’t conflict with his client’s interest. She’d talk to Roberto after the hearing and hopefully Apollo’s parents as well.

The hearing lasted about twenty-five minutes, which was rather long for a detention hearing. Sabre became bored and then anxious while she waited. Finally, Roberto came out with the parents. Sabre approached him immediately.

“I’d like to speak to you and Apollo’s parents if you can give me a minute.”

Roberto smiled. “What’s up, Sabre?”

“I represent a minor in a dependency case. Her name is Bailey. She’s purported to be Apollo’s girlfriend and has been absent from her foster home for over a week. We know she was with Apollo the majority of that time.” Sabre turned her head from Roberto to the parents. “Do you know Bailey?”

The father looked at Roberto who nodded and said, “You can tell her anything you know about Bailey.”

The father said, “We knew he had a girlfriend, but we never met her. Other than her name, we didn’t really know much.”

Sabre looked at Apollo’s mother. She was a tall, big-boned woman but not overweight. She wore no make-up except for a little mascara. Her chiseled nose matched the rest of her perfect features. Sabre couldn’t help but think how attractive she was. In the right clothes and the right setting, she could compete with the best of them. But today she looked frightened and vulnerable. She fought back tears when she spoke. “I never met her, either. Apollo is such a good boy. He’s never been in trouble and until this last week, he never missed school. Even then, when he was running with her, he called every day to let us know he was all right. I know he didn’t kill that man.” Mr. Servantes put his arm around his wife and they stepped off to the side.

Roberto said, “I don’t think they know anything about her. Let me talk to them a few minutes and then you and I can talk.”

Sabre walked outside into a crowd of people and waited against the wall while Roberto finished his conversation with Apollo’s parents. She took out her cell phone and checked the time. She still had another hour before her appointment with JP at her office.

A few minutes later Roberto walked out with the couple, shielding Mrs. Servantes in the middle. The reporter Sabre had seen earlier was waiting and in their face before the door closed behind them. She heard Roberto advise them. “Don’t say anything. Just keep walking.”

The reporter held the microphone up in front of the father and asked, “Did your son kill Scott Jamison?”

The father didn’t respond. Roberto pushed his way ahead and escorted the parents to their car. The cameraman and reporter followed, still filming and asking questions.

When Roberto returned, the crowd had dispersed. “Why is the press interested in this case?” Sabre asked.

“I’m not sure exactly. Hopefully, I’ll be able to find out from my client.”

“I met with Apollo yesterday in the Hall. I explained to him that I was only there about Bailey. I advised him not to talk about anything else and he didn’t, but I wanted you to know that.”

“I take it you didn’t get any information about Bailey’s whereabouts.”

“That’s right, but I’d like to try again, if you don’t mind.”

“I’ll be glad to help in any way. Let me talk to Apollo and make sure it’s not going to hurt his case and if not, we’ll set up a meeting for the three of us as soon as possible. Will this afternoon work for you?”

“Absolutely. I’m here for an adoption hearing anyway. Just let me know what time and I’ll work around it. Thanks, Roberto, you’re a sweetheart.”

“That’s me, a real sweetheart.” He winked at her. Then, in a serious tone, he said, “I know you’d do the same if I had a minor on the streets. I don’t want her there, either.”

The mirror in Sabre’s office bathroom reflected back at Sabre as she fluffed her hair and checked her make-up. She walked back into her office and sat behind her desk. JP would be there any minute. She picked up the ritual abuse spreadsheet and glanced through the columns. When she looked up, she saw a handsome cowboy standing in her doorway holding some papers.

“Hey, kid.” The sound of his voice made her feel safe. During the last year, he had always been there to protect her when she most needed him.

“Good morning. It is still morning, isn’t it?”

“The roosters hollered nearly seven hours ago. Seems like evening to me.”

Sabre laughed. “Well, good evening to you, JP.”

He approached her desk and handed her a copy of the spreadsheet. “I’ve added another case to this list—the Lecy case.”

Sabre’s mouth dropped open. “What?”

“Shellie said Bailey is afraid of the ‘devil worshippers.’”

“What the hell?”

JP reported on his visit with Shellie and her friend.

“That explains the media coverage.” JP wrinkled his brow. “There was a reporter and a cameraman at court this morning. They tried to question Apollo’s parents. I bet it’s because of the satanic angle. Why else would they be interested? There wasn’t anything that newsworthy about the murder. Nothing unusual anyway.”

“I’ll bet you’re right. There’s been a lot of buzz since the ‘Devil House’ was discovered.”

“Have you heard anything new on the ‘House?’”

“Not a word.” JP said. “By the way, I left my card and your cell phone number with Shellie and encouraged her to convince Bailey to call you. I also told her to tell Bailey that you were in contact with Apollo. I thought it might be enough to get her to call.”

“Thanks, that was a good idea. I hope it works.”

Sabre read the spreadsheet, noticing where JP had very neatly handwritten the name Lecy in the first column. In the column titled Indicators he had written Fear of Devil Worshipperse. Neighborhood, Age, and Ethnicity were completed. Sabre filled in the spaces for the social worker and the attorneys. “What does this mean?” Sabre asked, expecting an opinion rather than a real answer.

“I don’t know. I’ve run the demographics for the Neighborhood column. They seem to cluster around two areas, Tierra Santa and Downtown, but not entirely because then you have your Johnson case in Vista, thirty plus miles north and one case about the same distance to the east. I’ve tried looking for a pattern, but I can’t come up with anything that seems to matter.” JP handed Sabre a map. “I’ve marked the map where we have strange cases. The black numbers indicate the order in which they came into the juvenile system.”

“What’s this?” Sabre asked as she pointed to a large red X on the map.

“That’s the ‘Devil House’ that was on the news.” JP moved his finger around the map pointing to other red marks. “And these are all places that have been reported by agencies outside of juvey—police reports on taggers mostly. Just something different to graffiti.”

“They’re all over the map.”

“I know. I really don’t think they have anything to do with our cases. I think it’s just teenagers jumping on the band wagon—wannabes with too much time on their hands.” JP handed her another map. “Here’s a map without the graffiti. I left the ‘Devil House’ on there.”

Sabre started to stand up. “I’ll make copies.”

JP touched her arm. “Sit, kid. Those are your copies. I have mine.”

Sabre felt a sweet tingle from his touch, and it made her uncomfortable. She wasn’t sure why. She shook it off. “Thanks. What other good news do you have for me today?”

JP told her what he had found out about Cole’s father and his latest uneventful search for Cole. Sabre knew JP searched the neighborhood a couple of times a day even though he didn’t bill her for it. Sabre had been doing the same thing. After court this morning, Sabre had driven around the park and past Cole and Hayden’s foster homes before she returned to the office to meet with JP.

JP continued, “We haven’t had any sightings of Cole since Tuesday night. That’s over forty-eight hours.”

Sabre saw the tension in JP’s face, how his forehead wrinkled, and she was certain she spotted a little extra gray at his temples. She knew what he was feeling. She felt it, too—the helplessness, the concern, the fear of what Cole might be going through.

24

Friday afternoons at juvenile court were different than any of the other days. The courthouse was filled with families wearing smiling faces, little boys and girls dressed in pretty clothes, and there were far fewer attorneys walking the halls. The adoption calendar brought in a different class of client. Parents and children were anxious to finalize a process that had often taken years to achieve, especially the cases that had commenced in the dependency court.

When a child was removed from a parent, the parent had six months to reunify. If they were close to reunification they were given another six months. If by the end of the twelfth month they still had not made enough progress toward reunification, a .26 hearing was held and parental rights could be terminated. If the rights were removed, the Department of Social Services worked diligently to try and find an adoptive home for the child. Often the minor was already placed with foster parents or relatives who wanted to adopt. The process generally took several years and if a home wasn’t found, the child remained a legal orphan.