Delia's Crossing (Delia 1)

The younger policeman asked me if I knew where Ignacio was now.

“No,” I said.

“What did he ask her? I don’t like her answering questions without an adult here. She doesn’t know anything. She’s not here that long. Her mother and father were killed in Mexico, for God sakes. She’s not over the tragedy,” Sophia rattled off.

“Do you know why those boys went after Bradley Whitfield?” the younger policeman asked her.

She lowered her head. “We don’t like talking about it,” Sophia said. “We’re ashamed of what’s happened.”

“Sophia,” Edward said, “stop it. Tell them whatever you know right now.”

“I am, Edward,” she snapped back at him, and then she turned to the policeman. “We believe Bradley Whitfield took unfair advantage of my cousin.”

“Unfair advantage? What exactly does that mean?” the taller policeman asked.

“Figure it out,” Sophia told him.

The younger policeman asked me if it was true. I looked down and said yes.

“How come no one reported such an incident?” the taller policeman asked. He looked toward Edward.

Everyone was silent for a moment, and then Sophia spoke.

“How come your nose is so long?” she shot back at him.

“Oh, you’re really a smart-ass,” he said.

“She is that,” Edward said. “What do you want to know now, officer? My mother isn’t at home, and we’re all underage, but we’ll try to help.”

“Do any of you know the whereabouts of this Ignacio Davila?”

“We don’t. Sophia, if you know, tell them.”

“I don’t know. We don’t know. Yes, we were at the party, and they were very upset about what Bradley had done to a Mexican girl, especially one so innocent and pure and religious. We heard them say it was time for Mexican justice.”

“They said that?” the taller policeman asked.

“That’s what we heard them say.”

The younger policeman asked me in Spanish if I had heard those words. I had, so I told him. I wanted to tell him more, but Sophia’s grip on my hand was so firm she was stopping the flow of blood.

“Give me the names of the girls who were with you,” the taller policeman told Sophia. She rattled them off. “They were all present when those words were spoken?”

“Yes, they were,” Sophia said, sounding more pleasant.

“And then what happened?” the taller policeman asked.

“They rushed out of the party, and I told my girlfriends we should follow them to see what they would do, but they drove so fast, we gave up and went to the Roadhouse. You can check. The waitress’s name was Christina.”

“How did the Mexican boys know where to find Bradley Whitfield?” the younger policeman asked her.

Sophia let go of my hand and put her arm around my shoulders, drawing me closer to her. “They knew where he violated my cousin,” she told them. “Delia is in an ESL class with Ignacio,” she added, which was as much as saying I had revealed it all.

The policemen were quiet.

“Is there anything else, officer?” Edward asked.

“Not for now,” the taller policeman said. “If anyone knows the whereabouts of Ignacio Davila and his friends and does not tell us, he or she could be charged with obstruction of justice. Keep that in mind.”