The Advocate - 02 - The Advocate's Betrayal (9 page)

“I don’t think so,” JP said, as he looked up catching Bob’s eye and then Sabre’s before his face turned dark red with embarrassment.

Sabre stood up. “Will you two please excuse me?” She walked off. JP kept his eyes on her backside as she walked away, her dark brown hair bouncing lightly on her shoulders, her short skirt showing off her shapely legs in her high heels. He watched until he couldn’t see her any longer.

“Why don’t you let her know how you feel? Geez, you’ve been smitten with her since the first time you saw her,” Bob said.

JP knew that was true, but he really became enamored with her when she stayed in his house with him for three weeks the previous year. Bob had asked JP to help protect Sabre when she was being stalked. Before they were able to find out who the stalker was, her house had been burned to the ground and she had nowhere to live. JP asked her to stay on indefinitely, but as soon as she felt safe, she found an apartment. He hated to see her go. “I’m too old for her.”

“What’s ten years when you’re in love?” Bob dragged out the word love and rolled his eyes.

“Ten…I wish. I’m eighteen years older than she is, and besides, she’s way out of my league. She deserves a smart, young buck like Lucas.” He paused. “I hate that guy.”

“No, you don’t. Luke is an okay guy. You’re just jealous.”

“Yeah, he’s alright, but I still hate him.”

“Hate who?” Sabre asked as she walked up to the table.

“No one,” Bob said. “JP’s just giving me a hard time.”

Sabre looked first at Bob and then at JP. Though curious about their conversation, she let it go. “So, JP,” Sabre asked, “did you see the police report on Betty’s case?”

“Yes, I did. Something doesn’t add up, though.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, the murder weapon was identified as a kitchen knife with no blood on it, but it did have fingerprints. I’m thinking if you’re going to wipe it off, you wipe off the whole thing. And why keep it in the kitchen sink afterward?”

“That’s exactly what we thought,” Sabre said. “JP, how do they determine the time of death?”

“It’s pretty much about body temperature, but there are other things that are factored in, such as the victim’s body weight, air temperature, whether the air is still or moving, if it’s wet or dry. Also, whether the victim is clothed or covered, whether or not rigor mortis is setting in, and if so, to what extent. All that is plugged into a formula. They usually give you a time frame of about eight hours, but if all the information is correct, and if it’s calculated correctly, the time is pretty close to the mid point of those eight hours.”

“So, if John’s death was calculated correctly, he would’ve died around…”

“Nine thirty-three p.m.,” JP answered before Sabre could finish. “And wasn’t she with you at the casino at that time?”

“Yes, she was.” Sabre’s eyes opened wide and with glee in her voice said, “So if the time is correct she couldn’t have killed him.” She paused and the light disappeared from her face. “But that’s when I was playing bingo. I wasn’t actually with her.” She paused again, then continued to argue with herself. “But she would’ve had to move awfully fast to get home, kill him, and get back. That’s preposterous.”

Binh brought the drinks to the table. He sat JP’s glass in front of him and said, “Iced tea for you.” Then he placed the waters in front of Sabre and Bob. “Vietnamese Seven-Up for you two.” He handed Sabre and JP each a straw. “You don’t get one,” he said to Bob and walked away.

“Okay, he always does that. He may remember me, but you always get a straw with your water and he won’t bring me one. Why do you suppose that is?” Bob asked.

“Because you don’t deserve one,” Sabre said.

“Have you ever asked him for a straw?” JP asked.

“Yes, but he just smiles and says, ‘Sure, Mr. Bob,’ and then he won’t bring it to me.”

Sabre turned to JP again and asked, “Did you get a chance to start your investigation?”

“Yes.” JP looked toward the karaoke machine and glanced around the room. He took a deep breath.

“Well, JP, what is it? Just tell me.”

The waiter returned with the rice paper rolls and set them down on the table. He put a small, salad-sized plate down for each guest and a shallow bowl with peanut sauce in it for the rice paper rolls.

JP waited until the waiter left. “Did you know Betty was a widow before she married John?”

“I believe she mentioned it. Why?”

“Did you know when he died?”

“No, does it matter?”

“Well, it appears he died in Texas, about a month before she came to California with John.”

“That’s a pretty short mourning period. Was he sick for a long time or something?” Bob asked.

“No, he died of a sudden heart attack. And, by the way, there’s no record of her marriage to John.”

“So, maybe they weren’t married. And maybe it was love at first sight. What are you getting at, JP?” Sabre asked, a little irritated.

“Nothing, yet. I’m just reporting the information. You can ask Betty for an explanation, or I can. Which will it be?”

“I’ll ask her,” Sabre said, unnerved by the information she had just received.

“She needs to start leveling with us, Sabre,” Bob said. “She’s jacking us around. I know you want to protect her and you believe in her innocence, but you have to wonder why she’s keeping things from us.”

10

As Sabre drove to Las Colinas her thoughts jumped around—her romantic weekend with Luke, her concern for how she would be able to protect the Kemp minors, and her questions for Betty. She focused on Luke. It had been a long time since she had someone she cared this much about. She and Luke were spending more and more time together, but he still wasn’t smothering her.

The closer she got to Las Colinas, the more her thoughts settled on Betty. She was convinced of Betty’s innocence, but if there was anything unusual, the prosecutor would use it against her. Sabre would need to explain everything amiss in Betty’s life in court when the time came, and that could be so humiliating for Betty.

Sabre entered Las Colinas, showed her bar card and identification to the desk clerk, and asked for Betty to be put in an interview room. A guard walked with her down the cold, stone corridor where he opened the locked gates, let Sabre in, and followed behind her. The door clanged behind them, creating a cage. She felt claustrophobic and wondered how anyone could stand to be locked up, especially someone who hadn’t committed a crime. To lose her freedom would be the one thing Sabre couldn’t stand, which is probably why she chose defense work instead of prosecution. Sabre hated crime and criminals and was appalled by what they did to their victims, but was equally appalled by what the system could do when someone was innocent but still convicted.

She walked through the second gate. Clang. A shiver went down Sabre’s back. She entered the interview room. “Your client will be right out. Just let us know when you’re finished,” the guard said as he walked away.

Betty was brought into the back side of the private interview room. The glass separating them formed a barrier between their friendship and the attorney/client relationship.

Betty sat down and gave Sabre a half smile. “Hi, Sabre. It’s good to see you,” she said.

“Hi, Betty. Is everything going okay in there? I mean, considering.”

“It could be worse. They have me in a cell with one other woman. She’s in here for murder, too. She claims she’s innocent, but everyone in here says that, so who’s to know? I’m sure they think the same about me.”

Betty looked different. Besides being sad, she looked harder. Her eyes had lost their twinkle. “Are the accommodations pretty bad? I’ve never been in that part of the jail.”

“I’ve lived in worse.” Betty let out a little chortle. “They have metal toilets and sinks in the rooms, so there’s no privacy. They say you get used to that after a while. I’m hoping I don’t have to.”

“You know I’ll do whatever I can.” Reticent to broach the subject of John and the knife, Sabre asked more questions about the facility. “Do they let you out of your cell?”

“Yeah, every day for a few hours, except on Saturday when they changed the bedding and gave us a change of clothes. They made us strip down and they gave me clothes that don’t fit, a bra that’s all stretched out, and a dingy t-shirt to go with my otherwise fashionable, orange jumpsuit. We had to stay in our cell that day and they gave us a really bad sack lunch. Normally, the food isn’t that bad. No worse than most cafeteria food, anyway.”

“Do you usually eat somewhere else?”

“Yeah, we usually eat in the Day Room. They send us through the line to get our trays and we sit at round metal tables with stationary benches. That’s so no one can pick them up and throw them. We can go there for a few hours during the day. They have games, cards, and stuff like that in there. And they have a television, but it’s controlled by the resident thugs. I’m not much into television, so I don’t care. The big event in there, though, is mail time. That’s the ultimate, especially for those who have been here awhile.”

“How’ve they been treating you?”

“Fine. The guards are pretty civil. It’s only a problem when you don’t know the rules, but I’m catching on pretty fast.”

Sabre took a deep breath and told herself it was time to act like an attorney. She had not known how hard it would be to represent a friend, but she had no choice.

“Betty, the police have the murder weapon.”

“Good. Where did they find it?”

“In your kitchen sink.” Sabre noticed the quizzical look on Betty’s face.

“What do you mean, in my kitchen sink?”

“The perpetrator used a kitchen knife, which may or may not have been yours, and then cleaned it off and put it in your sink. Do you remember seeing it there when you came home that night?”

Betty thought for a second. “When I came home, I remember the door was closed, but not locked. That was kind of odd because John was careful about locking the door. I went inside and turned on the light in the kitchen, and I got myself a glass of water to take a pill. There was a cutting board on the counter with half of an apple on it. A knife was sitting next to it. I picked up the knife and cut the core out of the apple, sliced it, and ate the pieces. I rinsed off the knife and laid it in the sink.”

“Did it seem unusual that the apple and knife were left out?”

“No, I’m used to cleaning up after John, especially things like that. He probably ate half the apple and then forgot about it. Sometimes he puts things away, but more often than not, he leaves them for me.” Betty, in horror, cocked her head to one side. “Is that the knife they used?”

“It looks like it, and it has your fingerprints on it.”

“Oh my God, this just keeps getting worse.”

“There’s something else I need to ask you about. I need to know about your last husband.”

“Why?” Betty asked, looking a little surprised. “What does he have to do with this?” Betty shifted uncomfortably from side to side.

“Probably nothing, but there are unanswered questions and anything the prosecutor can use against you, he will. Even if it is to make you look like a liar because you didn’t tell something.”

“What do you need to know?”

“How long were you married?”

“I was married to Jim for sixteen years.”

“You told JP he died six years ago, but the information he has indicates it was more like five years ago.”

“I must’ve made a mistake. I haven’t been thinking very clearly.”

“I understand, but that puts his death about a month before I met you and that’s shortly after you came to California with John.” Sabre tried to pick her words carefully, “I’m not passing judgment on you, but a jury will, so I need to sort this out. Did you know John while Jim was alive? Sometimes it seems like you two go way back. You seemed to know each other so well.”

“We knew each other for many years while I was married to Jim. We were all friends, just friends. When Jim had his heart attack, John was there to comfort me. He helped me through some pretty rough times. When I wanted to leave Texas, he decided to go with me. I wanted to get away from all the memories, and John insisted I not go alone. We grew closer and closer, and after a while we were a couple. We weren’t married, but I used his last name because it seemed simpler. There you have it. I’m sorry if I misled you or JP. That wasn’t my intent.”

“It all makes sense now. Just be careful when you give me information, or worse, if you withhold information, because it’ll come back to bite us. So, what is your last name?” Sabre asked. The tone of her voice made the question sound like a reprimand.

“It’s Taylor.”

“Did you tell JP that?”

“I don’t remember, but I don’t think I did.”

“Is there anything else you think I should know?”

Betty paused for a moment, then shook her head. “Not that I can think of.”

“Oh, by the way, JP asked me to get a photo of John from you. Do you know where you have one?”

“I’m afraid I don’t. I don’t own a camera. I could never afford to develop the film, so I haven’t owned one for years. And the new digital ones are just too technical for me. John never liked having his picture taken anyway, so I’m afraid I can’t help you with that. I’m sorry.”

Sabre found it very strange she didn’t have even one picture of John. She looked Betty directly in the eyes, trying to see if she could read anything into her statement. Betty didn’t look away. Sabre made a note on her pad about the photos. “I’ll let JP know,” she said. “Do you have any questions about court tomorrow?”

“What will they do at the hearing?”

“We’ll enter a plea of ‘not guilty’ and the court will set a couple of court dates, a readiness conference, and a preliminary hearing. And hopefully we’ll get a chance to argue for bail. If the judge doesn’t entertain the bail issue, then a separate bail hearing will be set.”

“How do they decide if there should be bail set or not?” Betty asked.

“Bail is used by the court almost like an insurance policy that you’ll appear on future court dates. The amount is determined by the judge. Obviously, people with access to more money have to pay a higher bail and generally, the more heinous the crime, the higher the bail. There are really two factors in deciding if you should get bail: your risk of flight and whether you pose a danger to the community. So, in a nutshell, we’ll argue you’re no danger to society and you’re not going anywhere.”