Page 42 of The Advocate’s Ultimatum

The judge sat quietly for several seconds. When she finally spoke, her tone was measured. "I don't intend to speculate about the sender's motives." She looked directly at Ethan. "But I do intend to protect the child currently before this Court. I've been on this bench long enough to know that most threats are designed to frighten." She glanced again at the three messages lying on her desk. "But every once in a while, someone means exactly what they say."

Ethan nodded. "Of course."

Judge Hammouri continued. "Effective immediately, Ms. Mercer is to have no visitors except counsel or those specifically authorized by this Court. Probation is not to release transportation schedules or housing information outside those with a legitimate need to know."

She looked at Sabre. "If additional messages are received, Detective Nelson is to receive them immediately, and this court as well.”

“Of course, Your Honor," Sabre said.

"Good."

Judge Hammouri gathered the papers into a neat stack. "One more thing. If someone is trying this hard to influence a juvenile case, then I suspect we're dealing with something much larger than a homicide."

No one disagreed.

The judge rose. "We'll let Detective Nelson find out what.”

The ex parte hearing ended without another word.

~~~

When Sabre stepped in, the dependency courtroom was already humming with voices and papers shuffling. Everything was normal. That was the word Sabre kept coming back to. Everything here felt normal, which made everything outside of it feel worse.

She took her place at the table just as Judge Hekman glanced down at the calendar.

“Counsel, let’s try to keep things moving this morning,” the judge said. “I have no interest in spending all day on matters that should take ten minutes.”

A few attorneys murmured agreement. Sabre suppressed a smile. If anyone slowed things down in the courtroom, it was the judge. Some things never changed.

Her first case was quick, a placement review. The second took longer than it should have. A dispute between caregivers that had nothing to do with the child and everything to do with pride.

When Sabre stepped back into the hall, she checked the clock: 10:32 a.m.

She had time to call JP, then talk to Bay for a few minutes.

JP answered on the first ring.

“Did you find anything that proves Bay and Hannah are the same child?”

“No, but I can’t prove they’re not either. We don’t have enough information about Bay, and everything on Hannah is eight years old.”

Sabre approached the door to the interview room. “Anything else that will help?”

“Not really,” JP said. “All I really know so far is that Hayes changed his story about where he was during the critical time and that he drove a dark, older model car. Which is what the crossing guard said Hannah was picked up in.”

“That’s right, I remember that.”

“Have you decided what you’re going to do yet about the Mercer case?”

“We had an ex parte hearing this morning and I informed the court of the text messages. I expect it’s out of my hands now. But I’m going to talk to Bay again. Hopefully, I’ll get some answers.”

Sabre hung up and stepped into the interview room. It felt colder than it had the last time.

The girl sat at the table, hands folded, posture still, eyes alert. She was watching Sabre closely. She was always watching.

Sabre closed the door and took a seat.

“I knew you’d come back,” Bay said.