The Advocate - 02 - The Advocate's Betrayal

Sabre Orin Brown is a legal advocate for children in the San Diego justice system. She witnesses her share of horror every day. Every now and then, that horror gets personal. When Sabre's friend Betty calls one morning with the shocking news that her husband was murdered in his sleep, Sabre makes it her mission to find the killer. The cops suspect Betty, and Sabre has no leads. It would be easier if Betty wasn't hiding something, but even after she gets thrown in jail, she refuses to say a word about her past and the mystery that chased the couple across the country and ultimately hunted her husband to his death. Sabre can't put her own life on hold, either. She is still trying to protect the two children on her caseload whose parents have brainwashed them with a violent racial hatred. Even more, she's also still recovering from the horrific events of the previous year, when a stalker burned her home to the ground. Life never gets easy, but at least Sabre is not alone. She has the comfort of her calm and stable boyfriend, Luke, and the help of good friends. But when a private detective, JP, follows the murder from Betty's empty trailer home to a small town in Texas and a nightclub in Chicago, it starts to seem like finding the answers may be more dangerous than ever. Only one thing becomes remarkably clear: When the people closest to you have so much to hide, you can't trust anyone.

### Review

Teresa Burrell's gripping legal thriller is sure to excite mystery fans with its fast pace and surprise filled plot. --Jeff Sherratt, author of the Jimmy O'Brien mystery series

### About the Author

AUTHOR, ATTORNEY, ADVOCATE. Teresa Burrell has dedicated her life to helping children and their families in both the courtroom and the classroom. As an attorney, Burrell maintained a private law practice for twelve years, which specialized in domestic, criminal, and civil cases. Her work in family law and juvenile court focused on representing abused minors and juvenile delinquents. Miss Burrell has received several awards and special recognition for her countless hours of pro bono work with children and their families. Burrell has also enjoyed a satisfying career as a teacher. She has taught children of all ages with diverse backgrounds and special needs. After creating an after-school program that kept kids off the street, she received a community service award. Now in semi-retirement in California, Burrell continues to educate groups about social issues impacting children and write novels, many of which are inspired by actual legal cases.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Prologue

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3

4

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Note to Reader

THE ADVOCATE’S BETRAYAL

by Teresa Burrell

 Published by Silent Thunder Publishing

Copyright © 2012

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

SECOND EDITION

The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons (except celebrities with an incidental role), living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

The Advocate’s Betrayal / Teresa Burrell — 2nd. Ed. ISBN 978-1-938680-007

Published by Silent Thunder Publishing

San Diego, CA 92111

To every child who has endured the physical or emotional pain from abuse or neglect.

To my family who shared the pains of childhood with me while giving me many precious moments to carry forward; and to my family and friends who continue to give me comfort and inspiration as an adult.

To my editor, Marilee Wood, who constantly holds my hand.

And in loving memory of my sister, Elaine Johnson Lecy, who will forever remain in our hearts as one of the most unique and fun-loving women to ever walk the face of this earth.

Prologue

Pain, from a sharp knife plunged into his chest, yanked John out of a deep sleep. He forced his eyelids open. The only thing worse than the pain was the shock when he saw who was standing over him. It wasn’t until the blood dripped on his face that he realized it was not a dream.

“No, no, not you….” John reached out, hitting his hand against the wall. He tried to speak again, but could only mumble. “
Our Father, who art in heaven…
”

The killer mockingly said, “Are you praying, old man? Here, use this….,” tossing John’s rosary at his open hand near the floor. It caught on his fingertips and dangled there. John felt his air diminishing as his lungs filled up with blood. He fumbled his fingers until his thumb and index finger clasped the first large bead, the words no longer audible. “…
hallowed be Thy name…
”

His attacker stepped back, gazing at him lying there, holding the knife dripping with blood, his blood. John reached for his chest, but his arm wouldn’t move. “…
Thy kingdom come…
” The naked walls of the trailer felt like a box. They were so close on every side. It was stifling. This was his box, his cage, his coffin. The only illumination came from the front room. He listened as the footsteps echoed back and forth at the end of his queen-size bed that filled the room, leaving less than a foot on each side. And then he heard the rubber soles of the shoes exit the bedroom.

He heard water run. His backside felt wet. Was it water? No, the water came from the kitchenette; blood pooled around his body. John heard his assailant washing away his blood in his kitchen—his murderer washing away the evidence. “…
Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven…
”

Footsteps returned to John’s bedroom, and with them returned his fear. Was the attacker returning to finish the job? John couldn’t protect himself; he couldn’t even move. Then the fear subsided. It was too late. The damage already done. “…
Give us this day, our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses…
”

The floor creaked all the way to the front door. Click—door unlocked, opened. The lights went out in the front room, completely dark, or was it the light in his mind that ceased? The pain in his chest intensified. His body felt lethargic. The front door closed. John listened carefully—no lock. The trailer shifted when the last step was vacated. He was alone, left to die alone.

John tried to move, to struggle, to fight, but his body wouldn’t budge. He saw his life—the despicable parts when he was a kid, the pain he inflicted on others—but mostly he thought of the man he had become. The man who tried his whole life to fix what he had done as a child, that’s who he really was. It pained him to have to think he would suffer eternal damnation for the crimes he committed so long ago. Was this his punishment—betrayal, death, eternal damnation? “…
as we forgive those…
”

1

When the phone rang at four o’clock in the morning Sabre knew it could only mean trouble, but she was used to trouble. “Who screwed up now?” she mumbled, forgetting for a second Luke lying in bed next to her.

“Umm…,” Luke groaned.

Sabre savored the smell of clean sweat and faint cologne, reliving the touch of his mouth on the nape of her neck and his hard body holding her, making love to her for the first time. It had been a long time coming. She struggled to find the phone on the nightstand, knocking over a glass of wine. “Damn it,” she mumbled. When she put the phone to her ear, she heard her friend Betty breathing heavily and stammering over her words as she tried to speak. Sabre’s heart quivered in her chest.

“He’s d..dead. John’s dead,” Betty cried.

“Betty, where are you?” Sabre’s heart beat faster. She felt a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“At home. Th…there’s so much blood.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“I’ll be right there.” Sabre’s arm felt weak. She dropped the phone to her chest and lay there for a second, her body still and in shock. Luke reached his arm around her waist and pulled her shapely naked body close to him, nibbling on her earlobe. Sabre yanked away, throwing his arm off her and slamming the phone into the cradle. “Not now,” she said curtly, but with no anger in her voice. She stood up and flipped on the light.

“What is it?” Luke asked, scratching his head as he sat up.

“John’s dead.” She snapped, sounding more like a question than a statement, propelling Luke from the bed. “I’m going to help Betty.” She stepped into her jeans, wrestling with her sweatshirt as she pulled it over her head, twisted her shoulder-length, brown hair up on top of her head, and stuck a clip in it.

Luke had his shirt on before she finished speaking, looking around for his pants and shoes. “I’m going with you.” He reached for her arm, squeezing it lightly. “I’m so sorry, Sabre.”

Tears filled her dark brown eyes. John and Betty were her friends, and although Sabre was about thirty years their junior, they had grown very close. They were extended family, more like an aunt and uncle to her. They had been there for her during her turmoil last year, and now John was dead and Betty needed her.

The summer morning air felt cool on Sabre’s tear-filled face as she ran to the car. “Put your keys away. I’m driving,” Luke said. Sabre’s hand shook as she opened the door to Luke’s silver metallic BMW Z4 Roadster.