Whenever Sabre had a Friday afternoon trial and she had some downtime, she’d slip into Department One where Judge Shirkoff was handling the adoption calendar and watch the happy people as they legally committed to their new families. It helped her balance all the pain and suffering she saw the rest of the time.
Sabre ducked under a bunch of bright pink balloons and stepped around a family of about twenty, all dressed in church clothes, as she worked her way toward the courtroom. Once inside she took a seat at the back of the room. She had prearranged a visit with Roberto and Apollo. As soon as Roberto finished his court calendar, he would text her and they’d walk through the tunnel to the hall and meet with his client.
In the meantime, she would be present in court for Addison, a seven-year-old girl who was once her client. She hadn’t represented her since the .26 hearing when the parents’ rights were terminated. Back then her name was Tiffany, but her name would be legally changed when she was adopted. Her new parents let Tiffany chose her own name and for the past six months she went by Addison.
Sabre had come to be quite close to Addison over the past two-and-a-half years. As she watched her move from foster home to foster home, therapist to therapist, Sabre seemed to be the only constant in her life. When Addison was finally matched with an older couple interested in adoption, Sabre had to let go. She remembered how difficult that was for her. Of all the children she worked with, she had become the most attached to Addison. Bob had even encouraged her to adopt Addison herself, but Sabre knew she couldn’t give her the attention she needed.
Now, Addison walked into the courtroom wearing a pale green dress with life-size pink lilies scattered throughout the fabric, a pink ribbon in her soft brown curls, pink anklets, and shiny white, patent-leather ballet flats. She seemed calm and almost angelic, quite different from the hyper little girl she had first met. She was no angel, but Sabre was confident her new parents were a good fit for her. When Addison spotted Sabre, a huge smile crossed her face, her eyes opened wide, she held her head up tall, and said aloud across the room, “I’m getting adopted today!”
“Indeed you are,” Sabre responded. The judge, the bailiff, and the court clerk all smiled as they watched this seven-year-old girl walk up to the table and take part in one of the most significant events in her life.
Sabre felt herself choke up as she watched the adoption proceedings. Addison had a family. Today, at seven years, three months, and four days old, Addison Sabre McLaughlin started a new life with the new name that she had chosen.
Sabre missed her own family. She missed her brother and her father. Most of her aunts, uncles, and cousins were too far away. She had a decent, yet somewhat strained relationship with her mother. They were never as close as she had been with her father or her brother. Her mother lived about an hour from her and she hadn’t seen her in almost two months. Her mother had a busy social life. She had lots of friends, played bridge twice a week, and was always involved in charitable work. But still, she knew her mother enjoyed her visits. Sabre made a mental note to visit her mother as soon as things settled down on these cases.
Right now, she needed to find her missing clients.
Sabre lingered in the courtroom after Addison’s hearing, watching some of the other adoption proceedings and waiting for a text from Roberto. The sound on her phone was shut off but she felt the vibration in her hand when it dinged.
Meet me by the info counter.
Sabre stood up and quietly left the courtroom. Gillian, the social worker on Bailey’s case was going into Department One just as Sabre was leaving.
“Any word from Bailey?” Gillian asked.
“Not a word,” Sabre said and walked on.
Roberto greeted her with a smile and a hug. “How’s the silverback?” Sabre asked. It was a nickname she had for him. She tried to remember when it started or where it came from, but she couldn’t.
“Couldn’t be better,” he said. “I talked to Apollo and he’s willing to meet with you again. He wants you to send a very specific message to Bailey and he implied the message will in turn get her to contact you. I’m not sure exactly what that means, but it’s something.”
“Whatever it takes. I think I can get Shellie to pass on a message to her but I don’t know how long it’ll take.”
“According to Apollo, Shellie will get the message to her quickly.”
Sabre felt a little better. At least there was a chance at reaching her client.
“You ready?” Roberto asked.
“Let’s go.”
“By the way, just so you know, Apollo claims neither he nor Bailey killed Scott.”
“Do you believe him?” Sabre asked.
Roberto tilted his head to one side. “It doesn’t matter if I do or don’t.”
They walked toward the door leading to the back room and the tunnel to the Hall, but before they reached the door Barry Betts approached Roberto. “Hi, Barry,” Roberto said.
“Hello,” Betts said. He turned to Sabre and nodded, “Counselor.” Betts handed Roberto a piece of paper.
“What’s this?” Roberto asked before he looked at it.
“I’ve been retained to represent Apollo Servantes.” His head nodded up and down on his long neck and the last word in each sentence raised an octave. “You’re no longer on the case.”
Sabre said, “We were just going to see him. He’s going to help me find a missing minor in a dependency case.”
Betts shook his head from side to side. “No. No. You can’t do that.”
“Will you please talk to him and see if he’s willing to help us?”
“Already have. I’m afraid I had to advise him not to talk to anyone.”
Sabre started to speak, but Betts kept shaking his head. “No. No. Sorry. I have to protect my client.”
Roberto handed the court order back to Betts and he walked off. “That guy’s weird. Ever notice how his head bobs around and the whole time his eyes don’t move—like they’re not connected or something?”
Sabre chuckled in spite of her frustration. “Dang. Now I’m back to square one.”
They turned and walked back up the tunnel toward the courtroom.
“At least you know that Shellie has more information than she’s giving.”
“That’s true. I’ll put JP right on it.” Sabre reached her hand out and touched Roberto on the arm. “Thanks for trying, Silverback.”
He winked at her. “Anytime, Sabre.”
They exited the tunnel door and stepped into the hallway of the courthouse. Sabre turned to leave and then turned back, “Oh, so what’s the message?”
Roberto opened his file, took out a legal pad, tore off the top sheet, and handed it to Sabre. She read it aloud.
Show the second one to someone you can trust. Keep the third one hidden.
25
Sabre reached for her feather pillow, fluffed it, and laid her head down. More tired than usual, she closed her eyes and started to drift off to sleep. Her cell phone rang. At first she thought she was dreaming. She turned over in her bed and looked at the pyramid-shaped clock on her nightstand. She tapped the point of the pyramid and a robotic voice said, “Eleven-fifty-two p.m.” She had been in bed less than twenty minutes.
Sabre stepped out of bed and took the three steps to the counter where her phone was plugged in. By the time she reached her cell it had already rung three times. The number was blocked.
“Hello.” For a couple of seconds no one responded. Sabre pulled the phone back from her ear, checking to see if she had missed the call. She was still connected. “Hello,” she repeated.
“Hello,” the young voice was tentative. “Is this Sabre Brown?”
“Yes. Who’s this?”
“Bailey.”
“Bailey!” Sabre said. “I’m so glad you called. Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“Where are you?”
“I need to meet with you. I need to give you something. But first I need to know that you won’t turn me in.”
Sabre hesitated for just a second. She wanted Bailey off the streets but she also didn’t want her arrested. She had an obligation to protect her minor client, but she also had to honor her confidentiality. It was more difficult with children. The law was a lot clearer with adults.
“Of course. I won’t turn you in. Where can we meet?”
“And you won’t bring anyone with you?” Bailey asked.
“No. I’ll come alone.”
“You promise?” Bailey sounded even younger than her fourteen years. Sabre could tell Bailey wanted to believe her, but anyone would’ve told her those words. Sabre knew that many people had probably already made her lots of promises they didn’t keep.
“I promise.”
“And you won’t tell anyone?”
“I won’t tell anyone. Where are you?”
“Do you know where Tecolote Canyon is?”
“Yes.”
“There’s an entrance to the canyon and the golf course. Just pull into the driveway there and wait for me. I’ll be there soon.”
“Off of Mt. Arcadia?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. It’ll take me about ten minutes to get there.”
“Can I trust you?” Bailey asked.
“Yes, you can. I’m your lawyer.”
“That doesn’t mean you can be trusted.” She sounded more like the Bailey she had encountered earlier, but even through the sarcasm Sabre could hear the fear in her voice.
“Well, you can trust me. I just want to help you.” Sabre spoke with sincerity. She hoped Bailey believed her. But before Sabre could say anything else, she heard a dial tone. She wasn’t entirely certain what that meant. Was Bailey still going to meet her or had she changed her mind? Did someone interrupt her? Either way, she still had to go and find out.
Sabre dressed quickly, grabbed her keys, and jumped in her car. She plugged her phone into her earpiece in case Bailey called back. She was tempted to call JP, but she had promised she’d go alone and she knew JP wouldn’t let her do that if he knew she was out at midnight meeting with a teenage runaway near a canyon. When she thought of it that way, it didn’t sound like such a good idea to her, either. But she had promised.
Sabre turned onto Mt. Arcadia, driving around and up and down the hilly street until she reached Snead Ave. and the entrance to Tecolote Canyon. A yellow caution light blinked on and off about thirty feet before the turn. She turned onto Snead, the street that led into the canyon and up to the golf course. It looked more like a long driveway than a street and the golf course, which was situated inside of the canyon, wasn’t visible. All one could see, even in the daylight, was brush, hills, and trees. Tonight the sky was too dark to even see that.
There were no other cars around. She flipped a u-turn and faced her car toward the street instead of the canyon, just in case she needed to leave in a hurry. She left her car running, double-checked her doors to make sure they were locked, and shut off her lights. She felt more and more uneasy as she waited there in the complete darkness. Sabre regretted she hadn’t called JP. After all, he was her investigator and had the same obligation to not break their client’s confidentiality. But she again decided not to call him.
Sabre waited for what seemed like an hour, checking her watch every few minutes. Six minutes had passed, then seven, eight… . No Bailey. The silence was deafening. A noise in the darkness startled her. It took her a second to realize it was the hoot of an owl. After all, she was in “Owl” Canyon. Another two minutes passed. The warmth inside the car competed with the colder air and the windows began to fog up. Sabre turned the defogger on and ran her windshield wipers to help clear them. Very little was visible outside. It was completely dark behind her car, some light from the partial moon shone down in front of her, and the lights on the hill from houses far above her brightened the top of the hill. Off to her left about thirty yards away sat one lone street lamp offering a little light in about a ten-foot circle below it. She continued to look out her windows without rolling them down, but to little avail.
Eleven minutes had passed since she arrived. She wondered how long she should wait. She may not even show up. Car lights approached from the left along Mt. Arcadia. She watched the car speed down the hill and around the curve. A man’s voice bellowed, “Yahoo!” Sabre saw an upper body, head, and arm reach outside the passenger window and fling what looked like a bottle into the canyon about fifty feet from her car. He continued to hoot and holler as they passed her car and disappeared into the night.
Sabre checked her watch again. Thirteen minutes.
“Ahh …” Sabre put her hand over her own mouth to stifle the scream brought on by the face she saw in her passenger window. Then a knock. She couldn’t tell for certain who it was. She waited for a second.
“It’s me,” Bailey said.
Sabre unlocked the door and Bailey stepped inside the car. “Brr … It’s cold out there.”
“How long have you been here?” Sabre asked.
“Not long.”
Bailey was dressed in jeans and a dark, long-sleeved shirt; a knit cap was pulled down below her ears. She held a small paper bag in her hand. Sabre turned the heat up, then glanced around the car. She spotted what she was looking for, reached behind Bailey, and picked up a sweatshirt from the back seat. She handed it to Bailey. “Here. Put this on.”