The Advocate's Ex Parte (The Advocate Series Book 5) (2 page)

Sabre smiled. He was right. Benson was difficult to work with because she never compromised, but they could beat her on some of the legal issues. They both had a lot more experience now. She wouldn’t be able to push them around like she did when they first came here. Even back then, they beat her on their first jurisdictional trial together. Benson hated losing to a couple of rookies and made their lives miserable the remainder of the time she was there.

But what bothered Sabre the most was that it would be more difficult for the clients. Benson was so bent on protecting children from physical abuse that she often didn’t see the emotional damage that it caused. Sometimes providing services to keep a family together resulted in a better solution than ripping the families apart. But Benson was a bulldozer, tearing everything up and trying to build something new when a little refurbishing may have been a better way to go.

“Sobs?” Bob said. His nickname for her came from her initials, Sabre Orin Brown, his little S.O.B.

“Sorry, I was just thinking about life at juvenile court with Marge Benson,” Sabre said. “What’s up?”

“Sobs, I think you should call JP and tell him about your ex parte hearing with Scary Larry. Maybe have him look at the cases you two have—or had—in common. It could be the judge was trying to warn you.”

“I could, but JP’s on vacation.” Sabre emphasized the word “vacation.” “What’s that about anyway? He never takes a vacation.”

“That’s right. I forgot.” Bob looked away.

“What is it?”

“He has company…from Texas.”

“Who?”

“His ex-wife.”

“His what?” Sabre’s eyes widened.

“I’m sorry, Sobs. I’m sure it’s nothing. They’re probably just friends.”

“Who would be friends with an ex-wife?” Sabre flipped one hand up in a gesture of dismissal. “It doesn’t matter. He can see whomever he wants.”

Bob raised his eyebrow and tilted his head to one side. His full head of wavy hair was graying prematurely. “Honey, this is Bob you’re talking to. I know you have feelings for him, no matter how hard you try to fight it. You two need to quit dancing around and sit down and talk this out.”

Sabre shook her head and cleared her throat. “There’s nothing to talk out. It could never work. Someone would end up getting hurt, and I would lose a perfectly good private investigator. I can’t afford that now. I’ve got too many cases that really need some serious work, not the least of which is the Durham case this afternoon.”

“Is JP working on that?”

“Yes, he started before he went on ‘vacation.’ He left me a message this morning and said he would bring me a report before the hearing this afternoon. He said he had something that might help me with the 707 hearing.”

“Sorry, I don’t speak ‘delinquency.’ Wait, I know, that’s where the DA is trying to have him tried as an adult, right?”

“That’s it. Sorry, I always forget that you don’t handle delinquency cases. Stick with me and you’ll have the language down in no time.” Sabre pursed her lips as if she were thinking. “Here’s the thing: Judge Mitchell presided over that case. Everyone believed he would rule against my client and send him downtown for the trial.”

“Maybe Durham had him snuffed.”

“Don’t be silly. How could he do that? Besides, my client’s just a kid.”

“Yeah, a kid who’s charged with a double homicide—a gruesome, bloody, double homicide.”

Chapter 2

The Durham Case

Child: Matt Durham, Defendant

Type: Delinquency case

Charges: Two counts of First Degree Murder

Victims: Hannah Rawlins & Mason Usher

Facts: Double homicide. Two teenagers bludgeoned to death with a baseball bat.

The news reporters swarmed around juvenile court. Three vans from local television stations were parked in the concrete lot in front of the building. Men carrying huge cameras and reporters with microphones waited near the front door for anyone connected with the Durham case to enter or exit.

Sabre could see it all from the balcony, where she stood waiting for JP. She watched him as he walked through the crowd undetected by the news crews and into the courthouse. He passed through the metal detector and then walked directly to the door leading upstairs to the spot where they had agreed to meet. She lost sight of him until he turned the corner for the second set of steps. He wore jeans, a plain black T-shirt, and cowboy boots. His black Stetson must have remained behind in his car. JP seldom went anywhere without it—except to court, of course. Her heart fluttered a little and she thought about what Bob had said earlier. She pushed it aside. Right now she had to deal with Durham.

“Hi, kid,” JP said, as he took the last step. He smiled his sexy half smile.

“Hi, JP. So what do you have for me?”

He handed her a report. “Not as much as I’d like, but this might help a little. The kid has a good school record, good grades, no previous delinquent history, and whenever he had problems in school he willingly did his punishment and seemed to change his behavior for the better. That, along with a good report from a psychologist, might help to show he can be rehabilitated before he reaches twenty-five-years old.”

“That’s assuming the psychologist I obtained provides us with a favorable report.”

“You’ve always been able to find someone who has a more liberal view on these things. Why are you so concerned on this one?”

“I don’t think he made a good impression on Dr. Heller. I spoke with her briefly on the phone and she didn't sound too positive about our client, but she’ll be here with the report soon. Let’s go meet with the kid. I just had him taken into an interview room. You can tell me what you think.”

They walked down the steps in silence. Things had become a little awkward between them. Sabre didn't like it. She had always been so comfortable around JP. He made her feel safe and had saved her from more than one crisis. But after the last case ended, Sabre and JP went out for drinks and Sabre had a few margaritas. She didn't recall exactly how it all went down, but she knew she came on to him and he refused to engage because of her intoxicated state. She knew he had done the right thing and respected him for it. Or maybe he just wasn't interested. Either way, it was best. She just wanted things to return to normal.

At the landing at the bottom of the stairs, JP opened the heavy wooden door for Sabre. Though in the lobby, they were still about twenty feet from the front door. The news cameras were not allowed inside juvenile court, but they hovered close to the front entrance. As others entered the front door, Sabre could see that the crowd outside had grown bigger and the reporters more aggressive. They were trying to catch anyone who was remotely connected to the Durham case. She spotted a tall man whom she recognized from Channel 10, a local station. He caught her eye. Sabre quickly turned away.

"Did you have any problem getting past the reporters?" Sabre asked JP, as they walked through the lobby.

"No, apparently they don't know who I am," JP said.

"They will now. John Gavin from Channel 10 just saw us together. I expect you'll be attacked when you leave here."

JP looked toward the door and saw Gavin watching him. "I’m sure they'll be on me like stink on a polecat, but don't worry. I can handle 'em."

Sabre looked at JP and smiled. "I know you can." She knew what he would do. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He wouldn’t say a word; he’d just walk away, leaving them with their limp microphones dangling in their hands.

JP opened the door to the interview rooms. The area was a large rectangular shape, divided down the middle by a hallway. One side contained a couple of desks that the court interpreters used due to the lack of working space in the courthouse. The other half was divided into three separate rooms. Each had a door with a small glass window. So without opening the door, the attorneys could easily see if it was occupied or if their client had been brought in. Sabre glanced
and observed an
adult cuffed to the bench on the opposite side of a large glass partition. He was talking to his attorney. The second had a prisoner waiting either to be seen or to be returned to his cell. The third confined Sabre’s client, Matt Durham.

Fourteen-year-old Matt was about five-feet-ten-inches tall, had a slightly rounded face, and was of average weight. His light brown, wavy hair lay tightly against his head, not exposing the curls that were evident in earlier school photos. He looked innocent sitting there. Just a child, Sabre thought as she walked into the cubicle.

"Matt, this is my private investigator, JP Torn. He'll be helping us on this case. He may need to speak to you from time to time. If so, please cooperate with him."

"Howdy, Matt," JP said. The plexiglass between Matt and the two of them prevented JP from shaking his hand.

"Hi," Matt said.

Sabre and JP sat down in the worn, metal folding chairs. Matt was seated on a wooden bench, one hand cuffed to the bench by a two-foot-long chain that prevented him from moving very far in the tiny three-by-five area.

Sabre began. "As discussed earlier, we have our fitness hearing this afternoon. The DA will be arguing that you’re not fit to be tried in juvenile court because of the specific crime you are charged with. We have to rebut that presumption. In other words, we have to prove that you are fit and that you can be rehabilitated before you reach the age of twenty-five. That's the longest they can keep you in custody as a minor."

"And if we lose?" Matt asked.

"Then you would be tried downtown in adult court, and if you’re convicted your sentence would likely be much longer, perhaps life imprisonment."

"But I'm only fourteen," Matt said. His face and his voice both pleaded for help.

“I know, and if you were thirteen we wouldn’t be having this hearing, but the law says when you are fourteen and have been charged with murder you are presumed unfit for juvenile court and we have to show otherwise. I’m hoping the psychological evaluation you did with Dr. Heller will help us.”

“But will they have the hearing this afternoon since our judge is dead?”

“How did you know that?” Sabre asked, a little surprised that her client knew about Judge Mitchell.

“Everyone in the Hall is talking about it.”

“Of course. It’s been all over the news and the Internet.” Sabre studied Matt’s face for a few seconds. “It depends on whether there is a judge available to hear your case who feels ready to go forward. This case has received a lot of media attention so they will be careful with it. I could ask for a continuance to try to buy us a little more time, but it likely won’t matter. If the new judge is ready, it’ll be heard today.”

“Judge Mitchell didn’t seem to like me very much. Maybe we’ll have a better chance with another judge.”

Sabre wasn’t exactly sure how to respond to that. It was true Scary Larry had made it pretty clear how he would rule and it wouldn’t have been in Matt’s favor. Matt apparently knew that as well.

Sabre explained, “Judge Mitchell was very outspoken and rather erratic, so even though he seemed to be leaning toward the prosecution he could still have gone our way. He actually may have been our best chance.”

“Damn, I thought since he was dead maybe it would help us,” Matt said with no regard for the judge’s life. Sabre and JP exchanged glances. Matt looked from one to the other and then added, “It’s not like I wished him dead or anything. I’m just sayin’.”

“I understand.” Sabre deliberately changed the subject. “Matt, I have a couple of questions for you and I’ll need you to look at some photos from the crime scene. They’re pretty gruesome. Are you up to that?”

Matt nodded his head. “Whatever you need.”

“As you know, we have an uphill battle here,” Sabre said. “Your alibi is weak and the murder weapon—the baseball bat they found in the bushes in the park with blood from both victims—belonged to you.”

“I know it’s my bat, but it’s been missing for a while. It was stolen at the baseball game. Someone walked off with it that night. I looked for it after the game, but I couldn’t find it. The equipment had already been loaded in the van so I just figured someone put it in the bat bag and I’d get it at the next practice. You can ask my coach.”

“I have an appointment to speak with him on Saturday,” JP said. “And I’d like to verify your alibi, but I need to know the name of the friend you told Ms. Brown you were playing video games with.”

Matt shrugged. “Just a friend. That’s all I’m saying.”

“We’re going to need to know his name so we can corroborate your alibi.”

“I don’t want to get him involved.”

Sabre cut in. “You understand you’re on trial for murder, right? We need all the help we can muster.”

“I didn’t do it, so I don’t need an alibi. You’ll see.”

JP and Sabre were silent for a few seconds and then Sabre proceeded with another line of questioning. “Can you tell me what happened earlier that day in the cafeteria between you and the victim, Hannah Rawlins?”

“What do you mean?”

“There are witnesses who say Hannah humiliated you last week in the school cafeteria.”

“It wasn’t that big a deal. She left when I sat down beside her. That’s all.”

“She left the cafeteria?”

“No, she went and sat somewhere else. Do they think I killed her because she wouldn’t eat lunch with me? That’s ridiculous. I didn’t kill her. Someone must have set me up.”

“Was anyone with you?”

“No, I was by myself, but there were lots of students there.”

“I’ll follow up,” JP said.

Sabre removed a photo of the crime scene from her briefcase. She held it up to the glass and said, “I’m sorry you have to look at this, but I need you to focus on Hannah’s arm. Do you recognize the blue wristband she’s wearing?”

He glanced at the photo. “It looks like one I had, but I can’t read it so I don’t know for sure if that’s mine.”