The Advocate - 02 - The Advocate's Betrayal (6 page)

“My mom. She said I could play with Jasmine as long as I didn’t touch her.”

“And your dad, what did he say?”

“He was real mad ‘cuz I even played with her. Then I got in more trouble for not beating her up when she touched me.”

“Were you punished?”

“My dad spanked me and sent me to my room.” She pulled the doll’s hair up in a twist on her head.

“What did he spank you with?”

“His hand. He took his belt off, but mama stopped him.”

“Has he ever hit you with a belt or anything besides his hand?”

“Just once, with a belt.”

“What happened that made him hit you with the belt?”

“I can’t remember.” Kat shrugged.

“Has he ever hit Kurt with anything?”

“He spanks him. That’s all.” Kat stood up again, laying the doll on the sofa.

“Kat, what about your mama? Does she spank you or Kurt?”

“Not so much.”

Sabre had to bite her tongue to keep from lecturing this little girl on the evils of bigotry, but it wasn’t the time or place. She made a note in her file to obtain therapy for these children as soon as possible. She also made a note to ask for a CASA worker, a volunteer from the Court Appointed Special Advocates program. Sabre had worked with some wonderful child advocates from the Voices for Children, the San Diego CASA chapter. They were always dedicated individuals, and this case needed a dedicated volunteer more than most—someone to monitor the services and to help the children make sense of their brainwashing.

Sabre could see Kat was getting antsy and tried to engage her in something less threatening. She wanted to put her at ease again before she took her back. “Do you listen to music?” Sabre asked.

“Yes, mama always has music on.”

“What kind of music?”

“Different stuff, but not any of the ‘jungle bunny’ stuff.”

Sabre took a deep breath and tried again. “Do you go to church?”

“Yeah, we go to the white church.”

“Is it pretty?”

“Yeah, sort of.” Kat picked up an outfit for the doll and brought it back to the sofa.

“What does it look like, besides being white?”

“It’s not white. It’s kinda yellowish,” Kat responded as though Sabre should understand.

“But you said it was whi…” Sabre paused. “What did you mean when you called it the ‘white’ church?”

“It only has white people. It’s God’s church.”

Sabre put both hands to her head, ran them through her hair, and exhaled. Everything came back to hatred. This was worse than physical abuse, and emotional abuse was so much harder to prove. Besides, she knew she was dealing with constitutional issues that would make a good argument for the parents. As much as she believed these children needed the protection of the court, she knew she could easily lose this fight.

6

The sun had risen, but very little light shone through the windows in Sabre’s bedroom. June gloom brought another overcast day to San Diego. Sabre sat up, reached into the nightstand, and removed the little, tattered, red notebook her brother had given her on her sixth birthday. She used it as her life plan. Everything major she ever accomplished started as an entry in her notebook. It was her tribute to her brother’s memory; he had been gone for over five-and-a-half years now.

She read through her list. The first and only entry she ever crossed out read, “Marry Victor Spanoli.” She had met Victor two days after her sixth birthday and remained his best friend until he moved away at the ripe old age of eight. She had long since given up on marrying Victor or anyone else for that matter, until now. Although it was way too early to consider marriage to Luke, he was the first man in a long time with whom she felt comfortable. They liked a lot of the same things, and when they didn’t agree on something, he could compromise. More than anything, though, they just enjoyed each other’s company. She loved John and Betty all the more for introducing them.

Sabre continued down the list of things in her notebook she had yet to accomplish. She made a new entry whenever she developed a new goal. It had been some time now since she had added anything. The last entry was made about six months earlier, right after she was abducted and almost killed by the maniac who burned her house down. It read, “Run a marathon.” She had started to train a few months back, and although she was comfortable running about five miles, she still had a long way to go. It would take time. “I’ll beef it up this month. Perhaps get to ten miles by the end of summer,” she said aloud.

With nothing new to add to her notebook, she stepped out of bed, passing boxes half-packed as she went into the kitchen. She pushed the “Start” button on a pot of decaf coffee, which she always prepared the night before so it would be quick in the morning. While it brewed, she showered and dressed for court. Then she picked up her files, a muffin, and her coffee cup and walked to her car. She didn’t care much for apartment living, but her condo was being rebuilt after the fire had destroyed it. It would be ready in a few weeks and she could move back in.

On her way to court, Sabre phoned JP, who was kind enough to put her up when her condo burned. “Hey, JP, it’s your old roommate.”

“Hi, Sabre. Good to hear your voice. What may I do for you?”

“I have a case I need your help on. You may have read about it in the newspaper: ‘John Smith, Stabbed to Death in His Bed.’”  

“Yeah, I did read about that. Who’s the perpetrator?”

“His wife, Betty. She’s a good friend of mine, and I’m sure she’s innocent.”

“Oh, that’s the worst kind. It’s always a lot easier when they’re guilty; not so much gets invested in the win. Hey, I’m sorry about your friends. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

“Good, can you meet me at Las Colinas around twelve fifteen? I’ll introduce you to my client and give you whatever information I have. I don’t have the police report yet, but I want to get started as quickly as we can. She’ll be arraigned on Friday.”

“I’ll see you there.”

Juvenile court seemed more crowded than normal. Sabre plowed her way through the lobby toward Department One where Bob was waiting inside for her. She passed Richard Wagner in the hallway, where he was speaking with his client, Patricia Kemp. Sabre smiled. Blond-haired, blue-eyed Wagner was perfect for this case. She liked Wagner. He always made the cases more interesting, even though he irritated the court officers. He never seemed to be ready when the court was, and sometimes he would just walk off. The court officers evened the score by putting his cases to the bottom of their stack, which meant he was always the last case to be heard and often trailed to the afternoon. Of course, the other attorneys on his cases suffered as well, but at least Wagner was fun to be around.

When Sabre first came to juvenile court, she had only been practicing about six months, knew little about the system, and didn’t know any of the attorneys. They all seemed to know one another and were rather clique-ish. Sabre felt like she was back in junior high. Wagner offered her help and gave her some insight on the different judges and the procedures, saving her several times from floundering. He showed her where the lounge was, where to file motions, and told her what she needed to go over with the clients at each hearing.

Wagner always went to bat for his clients in the courtroom, but he didn’t pull any punches. On any given day, you could hear him chew out a client for doing something stupid. Most of the attorneys tried hard to be tactful with the clients and not rile them up. Wagner didn’t seem to care if they acted out. Rather, he seemed to enjoy it. You could hear him say, “Hey, it’s your life. If you want to screw it up more than it already is, that’s fine with me. Now if you want to try to get out of this unscathed, then you better start listening. But if you want to act a fool, and don’t care whether you get your kids back or not, that’s your choice.”

Inside the courtroom, Sabre sat down in the back of the room to review the file while Bob finished his conversation with the social worker. She read the allegations on the petition. It was filed under Welfare and Institutions Code 300 (c). A “c” petition was what the Department of Social Services used to remove children from what they determined were abusive homes. In these situations, there was no physical evidence, making it very difficult to prove. Kat’s petition read:

(c) The child is suffering serious emotional damage, or is at substantial risk of suffering serious emotional damage, evidenced by severe anxiety, depression, withdrawal, or untoward aggressive behavior toward self or others, as a result of the conduct of the parent or guardian or who has no parent or guardian capable of providing appropriate care. No child shall be found to be a person described by this subdivision if the willful failure of the parent or guardian to provide adequate mental health treatment is based on a sincerely held religious belief and if a less intrusive judicial intervention is available…in that the parents have taught Kat to hate anyone of a different race, religion, or sexual orientation to such a degree it has resulted in fights at school on a regular basis.

Kurt’s petition was also a “c.”

…
in that the parents have taught Kurt to hate anyone of a different race, religion, or sexual orientation to such a degree it has resulted in the child making statements of killing other human beings and the father has taught the child to aim a real gun at targets depicting other races.

Sabre knew the petitions to be true based on her one conversation with the children, but she also knew how difficult it would be to prove.

“Hi, Sobs,” Bob said as he walked over to her.

“Good morning,” Sabre said. “It looks like Wagner has the mother on Kemp. He’s outside talking to her right now.”

“Oh, good.” Bob grinned. “This is going to be fun. And Wags and I are going to win this one. That will be one more jurisdictional win for me—the king of juvenile court!”

“Yeah, right. In front of Hekman? I don’t think so.”

The door opened and Wagner walked in. “You ready to send these kids home, Sabre?”

“I’m going to ask they be detained with you, Wagner, and Judge Hekman is going to make regular unannounced visits to your house. What do you think of that?”

“I think you’re crazy,” Wagner responded and walked off to let the court officer know he was ready.

“I’m going to tell them we’re ready, too, before we lose Wags,” Bob said as he followed Wagner.

Within minutes the attorneys and their clients assembled at the tables. The defense—Bob with the father and Wagner with the mother—and Sabre, representing the children, sat on the right side; County Counsel and Thelma, an African-American social worker three months away from retirement, sat on the left. Thelma, sixty-one-years old and carrying about fifty extra pounds, was a sharp woman with plenty of experience dealing with these cases, but she was tiring of the whole juvenile court thing and ready to move on to the next chapter of her life. She had lasted longer than most. The burn-out rate for social workers appeared to be fewer than ten years, and Thelma was still going strong some thirty years later. Sabre liked her as a worker and thought she was generally fair in her assessment, but she knew this one would be tough for her and didn’t envy her position.

Judge Hekman took a seat on the bench. The case was called, and Wagner was officially appointed to represent the mother. “Also, Your Honor, a bit of housekeeping,” Wagner said. “The petition reads ‘Patricia Kemp’ as my client’s name. That’s incorrect. I have a judgment here with a legal name change to Kelly K. Kemp.” Wagner stood up. “May I approach the bench?”

“Yes, counselor.”

Wagner walked up to the court clerk and handed her a copy of the judgment, which she in turn handed to the judge. Wagner then gave copies to each attorney at the table. “We’re asking the petition be changed to depict her correct name.”

“Hmpff…so ordered,” Judge Hekman said.

Bob stood up, “Your Honor, we’re asking the court to grant us a demurrer. We do not believe a legal cause of action exists for the facts stated in the petition. Even if the facts stated are true, and we’re not suggesting they are, it doesn’t constitute a cause of action under the W&I Code §300. We ask for the petition to be dismissed.”

“Nice try, Mr. Clark, but I’m not granting your demurrer this morning. If you would like to file the appropriate motions, I’ll hear it.” The judge turned to County Counsel. “The department is put on notice that this is a pretty weak petition.”

Mr. Wagner stood up. “We’ll be joining in Mr. Clark’s demurrer and we’re requesting a trial date on the merits should the court not see fit to grant the demurrer. We’d like the trial as soon as possible.”

“We’ll go off calendar and pick a trial date. But I want psych evals on both parents and the children,” she demanded.

Bob jumped up. “My client objects to having a psych eval done pre jurisdiction. According to Laurie S. v. Superior Court (1994) 26 Cal. App. 4th 195, the court does not have the jurisdiction to order a psych eval until they actually have jurisdiction. If the department doesn’t have the facts to support their petition, they can’t order my client to do something to try to bolster their lack of facts.”

“You’re right, counselor, but I can order a psych eval for dispositional purposes, because it is relevant for placement of the children.”

“That’s true, Your Honor, but for the record we’re objecting to that evaluation being ordered at this point in time.”

“So noted.”

“May I be heard on detention of the children?” Bob asked.

“I’m assuming you want the children placed with mom and dad. Is that correct?”

“Yes,” Bob responded.

“I’m not going to do that, but we will pick as early a trial date as we can.” The judge turned to the court clerk.            

“When’s the next available trial date?” She turned back to the court recorder. “We’re off the record.” The clerk gave the next date available, which was about three weeks out. Counsel all agreed to the date. “That was easy,” the judge said. “The children will be detained in Polinsky pending foster care or detention with an appropriate relative, if you can find one.” She turned to Sabre, “I’m sorry, Ms. Brown. Did you have anything to add on behalf of the children?”