The Advocate - 02 - The Advocate's Betrayal (35 page)

“Good, and what about Luke?”

“Nothing on him yet, but they’ll catch him.”

“You be careful.”

“I will. In fact, I’m staying at JP’s tonight.” Sabre squeezed his hand. “I’ll see you in the morning. I’ll come by right after the Kemp hearing. Wagner will be there appearing for the mom. I’m sure he can cover for you.” She started toward the door. “Oh, and JP said he’ll see you tomorrow. He’s waiting outside for me because they’d only let one of us in.” She turned toward Marilee. “Good night, Marilee.”

JP and Sabre entered his home. Everything looked the same as it did when she had bunked there six months earlier. The brown leather sofa faced the forty-two-inch plasma screen. She saw the four shelves of videos placed in no particular order, the hand-painted oil of a big oak tree on one wall, two pictures of John Wayne on another, and the bookshelf full of Louis L’Amour, Stephen King, and Joseph Wambaugh novels. Nothing had changed, including the putter that stood against the bookcase. A photo of JP’s deceased father in a marine uniform sat atop the bookcase next to a pair of marble cowboy boot bookends holding two very old books. The books apparently had some special meaning to him, although he never shared what it was. Memories of last year flashed through her mind. He had been kind enough to let her stay with him when she was being stalked and when her condo burned down. A shiver went down her spine. That was such a frightful time, but this…this was worse in some ways. Now she was not only afraid, but she ached inside. There was no pain like that of losing someone you loved. So much had occurred in the past few hours, she hadn’t had time to grieve her loss; Sabre vacillated between heartbreak and rage.

“May I get you anything?” JP asked. “Are you hungry?”

“No, thanks. I couldn’t eat anything, and I know where everything is if I want something later. I’m just going to take a bath and then go to bed.” She hugged JP. He hugged back and then gently rubbed his hand up and down her forearm and shoulder. “Oh yeah, there is something. Do you have an iPod I could use? I can’t exactly use my iPhone since it’s in an evidence locker with the end shot off.”

JP walked to a shelf, picked up his iPod, and handed it to her. “And it’s filled with good country music.” Sabre smiled. She’d grown up hating country music, but her stint with JP had converted her.

Sabre carried a newly purchased toothbrush as she headed for the guest bathroom. In her other hand was a pair of JP’s blue boxer shorts and a black tee shirt that read “Just a country boy.” As the bath water ran, she looked under the sink for bubble bath and found her favorite; it had been left behind from her last stay. She poured it into the tub, and as she stood up, she caught her image in the mirror. She looked messy, tired, and sad. Her shoulders drooped, her mouth turned down, and her eyes had no life in them. She told herself to breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Time: it would take time, but she would heal. At least that’s what she told herself.

She put her hand in the bathwater and adjusted the temperature, making it a little warmer. She picked up her toothbrush and started to brush her teeth.  She flossed and then washed her face. The tub nearly full, she shut the water off, undressed, and connected the earpiece on the iPod. She stepped into the blanket of bubbles, sat back in the tub, and sang along with Carrie Underwood as she bellowed out, “Before He Cheats.” Feelings of anger and sadness rumbled inside her head. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she thought about how she would like to take a Louisville Slugger to Luke’s precious BMW Z4 Roadster.
How could I have been so stupid letting him suck me in?
She closed her eyes and started to sing along with Carrie. Halfway through the first line of the chorus Luke joined in, singing along with her.

Seeing Luke standing over her, she yanked the earphones out and screamed.

“No one can hear you. I took care of JP.” Sabre screamed again. “You look beautiful. Get out of the tub.” Sabre didn’t move. “I said, ‘Get out of the tub,’” Luke’s voice was louder and more commanding. Then more softly, he said, “Please.”

Sabre stood up, covered in bubbles. She reached for her towel and quickly wrapped it around her.

“You are gorgeous,” Luke said. Sabre tucked the towel in, tightening it so it wouldn’t fall. She hated that he was looking at her naked. She felt violated.
How could it have felt so good yesterday and feel so horrible today?
Luke reached for her hand to help her out of the tub. When his hand touched hers she yanked it back. She shivered. “You’re shaking. Are you cold?”

“No, I’m angry, you son-of-a-bitch.”

“Hey, I’ve never heard you talk like that before. Such a potty mouth.”

“You’ll have to excuse me, but I just found out my lying, cheating, murdering boyfriend isn’t exactly who I thought he was.” Her voice escalated with each word.

“Okay. Calm down. Let’s deal with this.”

“Deal with this? We can’t just deal with this. It’s not like you left the toilet seat up or the toothpaste cap off. Luke, or Tony, or whatever the hell your name is, you killed someone. Someone I loved.”

Luke glanced around the bathroom before picking up the black tee shirt sitting on the long counter by the sink. He held it up and read the front. “What a bumpkin,” Luke said, as he grabbed the blue boxer shorts and handed them to Sabre. “Get dressed. I’m sure JP will be delighted to have you in his shorts.”

“What does that mean?” Sabre scowled.

“You just don’t see it, do you?” Luke turned facing her more directly. “Never mind. It’s not important now.”

As he turned his back to the mirror, Sabre could see his gun tucked in the waistband of his jeans. She struggled to keep her balance as she stepped into the underwear, the towel draped over her body. Then, holding the towel with one arm, she slipped into her bra before she dropped her towel. She had to figure out what to do. She knew he wouldn’t believe a sudden turn around in her attitude.

“You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?” Sabre asked calmly.

“It didn’t have to be this way,” he said, reaching out and touching her hair and cheek. His fingers felt cold on her skin, and before she could flinch he pulled them back and shoved her away. “But I can’t trust you.”

“You can’t trust me?” Sabre asked, shaking her head from side to side. She struggled to get her feet into JP’s boxer shorts and pull them up, Luke watching intently her every move. Was he admiring her body one last time before the kill? She pulled the tee shirt over her head, her arms trembling. Why didn’t he just shoot her in the tub? She wondered if he was going to kill her or try to seduce her. Right now, she thought killing would be the better way to go.

“Let’s go,” Luke said.

“Where?”

He didn’t respond. He took her arm and led her out of the bathroom. He walked behind her down the hallway into the living room. Her steps felt heavy and uncertain. The bathroom light and the rear porch light shone into the corner of the living room; otherwise, it was quite dark. The light reflected on the wall in a diagonal pattern, just short of the bookcase. She could barely see where she was walking.

Sabre took another step, starting into the darker area of the room. Luke reached out for her. She jerked away and took another step. He stepped closer, grabbing her arm this time. Sabre reached for the marble boot-shaped bookend. She twirled around and swung the bookend at Luke’s face, but missed and planted it in his shoulder. He jolted back, holding on to her arm to keep himself from falling. Sabre swung again. Luke deflected the blow with his left arm. Crack!

“Damn it!” Luke caught his balance, let go of Sabre, and shoved her forward. She fell against the sofa, hitting her head on the sharp edge of the wooden arm and slid to the floor. The pain was intense. As she looked up, she saw Luke pull his gun from his waistband and point it at her. “Get up,” he shouted. Sabre stumbled to her feet, pain throbbing from the back of her head. “Walk toward the front door.”

“I’m walking.” Sabre spit the words at him. She walked a couple steps forward, went around the sofa, and took a couple more steps to the door. Luke was about two feet behind her.

“Open it. Slowly,” he commanded. Sabre commenced opening the door.

“Move another step and you’ll be openin’ up a worm farm,” JP said from the doorway of the master bedroom, not six feet away with a shotgun aimed at Luke’s chest. Luke looked at JP, then at Sabre, and back at JP again. He sighed and lowered the gun to the floor but lunged forward toward Sabre, trying to swing her around to use as a shield. JP stepped forward, flipped his shotgun around, and butted Luke on the side of the head. Luke moaned as he fell to the ground. “That’s the last time you hit this cowboy in the head.”

42

Sabre’s few hours of sleep weren’t enough to leave her as clear minded as she would’ve liked to have been. But she was awake enough to watch the Kemps go down. The contempt she had for their actions toward their children was multiplied by their involvement in the hate crime that took the life of the young man in Perris. She wondered how many other crimes they’d committed.

Sabre asked for priority on her case, explaining to the bailiff about her ordeal the night before. She then took a seat inside the courtroom. Betty was waiting to be picked up from Las Colinas and Sabre wanted to arrive downtown in time for Luke’s arraignment. And then there was Bob still at the hospital. “Where’s Wagner? Anyone seen him this morning?” Sabre asked.

The bailiff walked toward the door into the hallway. “I’ll find him and drag him in. We’ll get you out of here.”

Within minutes Wagner walked in the door, followed by the bailiff who smiled and winked at Sabre. She nodded thanks.

Shortly thereafter the judge took the bench and the parents shuffled into the courtroom. Dressed in orange jumpsuits and with their feet in chains, they were being escorted by sheriff deputies. Both parents were seated at the end of the table; the deputies stood behind them as they always did with the “in-custodies.” Sabre sat at Wagner’s left, between him and County Counsel, so Wagner could talk to both parents. Robin, the CASA worker, remained in the back of the courtroom.

Wagner stood up and said, “Richard Wagner for the mother, also appearing on behalf of Mr. Clark for the father. Mr. Clark had an emergency this morning. I request a continuance so he can be here for his client.”

“Do you anticipate a trial setting at the next hearing, counselor?”

“Most likely, Your Honor.”

“Most likely, indeed.” The judge said with a smirk. “Why don’t we just pick a date right now, then.”

“That’s fine. The parents enter a denial to the new petition and request a trial date.”

They went off the record while they picked a date that worked for all calendars. “Back on the record,” the judge said. “The parents are ordered to be produced for the next hearing.”

Sabre spoke up, “Your Honor, I’d like concurrence if these children are moved to a relative.”

“So ordered. No, on second thought, I want this put on calendar before these children are moved to a relative. Anything else, counsel?” No one responded. “All orders remain in full force and effect.”Robin and Sabre walked out together. “So, we’re still going to trial?” Robin asked.

“These parents are going to fight to the end, but it won’t matter. They can’t do much from their jail cells and the department has a good case against them. I expect the real fight will be for disposition. Hopefully, we can find an appropriate family member for these children to live with,” Sabre said.

“I’ve been talking to some of the relatives, and so has the social worker. I think we found a place for them. There’s an aunt on the dad’s side.” Robin opened her file and rifled through it. “Yeah, here it is. She’s dad’s sister. And she won’t have anything to do with him or her parents because of their beliefs, but she doesn’t want her niece and nephew to grow up in foster care. She left home at sixteen and the only contact she’s had with the family in recent years is time she spent with the children. There’s no reason why that placement shouldn’t work. She has to be a strong woman to survive that upbringing. She’ll get through to those children.”

Betty waltzed down the steps and away from Las Colinas, sucking in the exhaust-polluted air as if she were in a mountain meadow. Sabre stayed close by her side.

They walked in silence until they reached the car. Once inside, Betty said, “How can I ever thank you?”

“You may start by answering a few questions. I think I already know the answer to this, but tell me anyway. Why didn’t you come clean with me and tell me what was going on?” Sabre asked before she started the engine.

“I’m so sorry. I’ve been hiding and lying so long. And I was too afraid, afraid for myself and for Neil. And then I heard Neil had a car accident, so I thought they’d found him and tried to kill him.”

Sabre backed up, drove out of the parking lot, and onto the crowded street. “Before you go on, they’re having Luke’s arraignment this morning. Do you want to go, or do you want me to take you home?”

“No, I’d like to go with you. I’d like to talk to Luke if that’s possible.”

Sabre looked at Betty with a puzzled look, but when Betty didn’t volunteer an explanation, Sabre let it go. “I don’t know if you’ll be able to do that. Even if you could, he may not want to see you.” Betty’s mouth turned down and her eyes pleaded. It was apparently important to her, maybe for closure. “I’ll see what I can do.” Sabre still had so many questions. “So, let’s back up a little. Your real name is Edith?”

“Yeah.” Betty shifted in her seat. “I was born in Bristol, Wisconsin. At seventeen, I found myself pregnant, and my mother couldn’t stand the disgrace of it all. She’d been raising me alone, and we were already considered white trash. The pregnancy was the final straw. She packed me up and we moved to Chicago. She had a cousin who got her the job at Villa Paceco. We both worked as maids in the house for old man Paceco. Antonio was his name. He had two sons, Salvatore and Vicentio. Salvatore was about twenty-eight at the time and Vicentio a couple of years older. Salvatore’s childhood friend was an Irish boy named Shane Behan who had come to live with them when he was about fourteen. He worked in the family business for Paceco, first running numbers and later carrying out more onerous, malicious tasks. He’d be called upon to do most of the dirty work, probably so Paceco’s sons wouldn’t get their hands as dirty. Shane was so handsome. I fell in love with him almost from the moment I met him. I told him I was pregnant. It wouldn’t have been long before he knew anyway, but he didn’t care. He loved me, too, and said he’d take care of me and love my child like his own.”