“Yes. She’s a lot better. My mother is at the Peninsula Hotel in Beverly Hills. She’ll probably make use of this trip to go shopping on Rodeo Drive,” he said.
“What about Fani?”
“She called this morning, shocked about it all. She claims she spent most of the night looking for you and finally went home with some guy named Larry. She thought you might have gone off with someone named Cliff. She said she didn’t know anything about Sophia. No one told her anything at the party. That’s her story.” He looked at his watch. “We’ll see her soon. We have to go to the police station. She’s been told to appear, and so have you. We have to be there in an hour.”
“Oh, Edward, what will happen to me?”
“If I have anything to say about it, you’ll get a medal,” he replied. Then he smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ve called my friend’s father, Mike Simon. We have an important attorney on it for us. He’ll be there. He’s been looking into the family-court matter involving your baby as well this morning, so cheer up.”
Was it possible to be hopeful after all of this?
“Muchas gracias, Edward.”
“De nada,” he said, and laughed. “Having you to look after has given me a reason to get back to business myself. So, thank you, Delia.”
I hadn’t thought it would ever be possible to laugh again, but I did, and so did he.
An hour later, we were at the police station. Fani came hurrying over to us the moment we entered.
“What is all this?” she asked. “Did you say something to the police about me? Why was I called down here?”
“She didn’t say anything about you, Fani. Take it easy. I have Curtis Simon’s father meeting us here. In fact, here he is,” he said, turning to greet a short, rotund man with a Santa Claus beard to match.
“Hey, Mr. Simon. Thanks for helping us,” Edward said, extending his hand.
“Who’s Delia Yebarra?” he asked, looking at Fani and me.
Edward introduced me.
“All right. From here on, no one but me says anything to anyone. We’ll make this go away quicker that way, understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Edward said.
“What about me?” Fani asked.
“You might want to call your own attorney,” Mr. Simon said. “From what I know of this, I can’t represent you both.”
Fani’s forehead creased as she pursed her lips. “What does that mean?”
“Maybe nothing,” Mr. Simon said. “I can only advise you to contact your attorney or have your parents do so. Let me go talk to these guys,” he added. “Then we’ll talk.”
He went into the station.
“You’d better tell me what you told these policemen last night,” Fani said.
I went through it as best I could.
“Did you give the drugs to my sister?” Edward asked her.
“No,” Fani said firmly. “Is that what she’s saying?”
“I don’t think anyone from the police have spoken with her yet, but will she say that?”
“Who could tell what your sister will say? She had better not implicate me. I know enough about her to get her in bigger trouble.”
“I’ll bet,” Edward said. “Everyone, just relax. Go call an attorney, Fani. Mr. Simon is probably right.”
“Where am I supposed to get an attorney?”