Double-Crossed (13 page)

“So you don't think I'm a bad friend? That I double-crossed them?”

I reached out and hugged her hard.

“You didn't double-cross anyone,” I whispered to her. “You saved a life. And that's not just a great thing to do. It's pretty darn double great.”

The Police Station

Chapter 15

“You girls don't look like you're dressed for a tennis tournament,” my dad said, glancing up from his toast and orange juice. Although Charlie and I never dress alike except for our tennis matches, for some reason we both appeared at breakfast the next morning wearing jeans and red tops. They say that red is the color of power. Maybe we were both feeling powerful. I know I was, anyway.

“We're not going,” I said, giving GoGo a hello kiss.

“How's Mrs. Ivanov?” Charlie asked.

“Shaken,” GoGo answered, “but fortunately, her sister will take good care of her.”

“Excuse me, ladies,” Dad said, “but we're off topic here. I believe the topic is today's tennis tournament at the Sand and Surf Club.”

“That topic is closed, Dad,” I said. “We're not going. Tell him, Charlie.”

“Um . . . Sammie thinks I need to come with her.”

“Charlie,” I said. “We discussed this. We agreed.”

“Right.” She nodded. Then clearing her throat to try to sound more sure of herself, she said, “Sammie and I have someplace we have to go.”

“Hmmm, this will be an interesting breakfast,” GoGo commented, giving us both a wink as she poured us two glasses of orange juice.

“I thought we discussed this yesterday,” my dad said. “And I believe I came to the conclusion that your future tennis career takes precedence over other matters.”

“That was yesterday,” I said. “Yesterday was a whole different day, wasn't it, Charlie?”

“I guess so,” she said quietly.

“Suppose we stop talking in riddles and you girls tell me what's going on.”

“There is new evidence in the case of Oscar Bermudez,” I explained. “Evidence that only Charlie and I can provide. Which means we have to be at the police station at ten.”

“Sammie says it's a matter of life and death,” Charlie added.

“Sammie, must you always be so overdramatic?” my dad said, sighing and putting down his newspaper.

“Dad, listen. They've canceled Oscar's surgery because they think he started the fire. We have to prove he's innocent. So you see, it is life and death. At least, the next closest thing.”

GoGo picked up the telephone and handed it to my dad.

“Excuse me, Rick. I think you have a match to cancel,” she said.

“So you're on their side, too?” He wasn't happy with her.

“I am always on the side of life,” she answered. “And deep down, Rick, I know you are, too.”

“I suppose you want me to drive you there, too,” he grumbled, taking the phone from GoGo and dialing the number.

“Yes, please,” I said.

As we gathered our purses and got ready to go, Charlie seemed worried.

“I hope they don't all hate me for ratting them out,” she said.

“You're not ratting them out, Charlie. You're helping Oscar.”

“But what if I can't say the words? Can't actually spit them out? I've never done anything like this before.”

“Look at Oscar when you're talking. Look at Eddie. Look at Alicia and Candido. Look at their whole family and see how you're helping them.”

“Okay, okay,” she said. “I get the picture. Let's get on with this before I change my mind or pass out.”

The Santa Monica police station takes up the first floor of City Hall. I had been there once on a second-grade field trip when we got to look inside a real police car and see the 911 operators in action. It's not at all scary like the dingy, dangerous police stations you see on TV crime shows. In fact, it's very light and airy, with a mural of the ocean and palm trees painted all along the lobby wall. As we sat there waiting for Candido to arrive, I told Charlie to concentrate on the mural and imagine that she was floating in a warm ocean wave. She was a bundle of nerves and needed to relax.

Candido arrived at exactly ten o'clock. He was wearing a gray suit and tie. Oscar and Eddie were wearing their dress-up clothes, too—the same ones they wore to the Truth Tellers dress rehearsal. Their hair was slicked back. Alicia was wearing a pleated skirt and a navy jacket I had never seen before, and her hair was held neatly back with a matching blue headband. If it weren't for the sad and worried look on each of their faces, you would have thought the whole Bermudez family was going to church.

Officers Porter and Beswick came out to greet us. Officer Beswick politely escorted us from the lobby into a glassed-in conference room with a long table and chairs. Officer Porter followed behind. Sitting at the head of the table was a uniformed officer with gray hair pulled into a bun on the top of her head.

“This is Sergeant Turrisi,” Officer Beswick said. “She's overseeing the investigation of the fire.”

Sergeant Turrisi stood up and shook each of our hands.

“This is an unfortunate thing we're dealing with,” she said, “but we're here to get to the bottom of the matter. Is everyone present who needs to be?”

“Actually,” I said, “I think we should have two more people present.”

Sergeant Turrisi looked surprised.

“And who might they be?” she asked.

“Jared McCain and Sean Patterson,” I said. “I brought their home phone numbers with me.”

I walked over and handed her the piece of paper. As I passed Charlie, I could see that she was slumped down in her chair, holding her stomach like she had a terrible stomachache.

“And why do you think these two gentlemen need to be here?” Sergeant Turrisi asked.

I waited for Charlie to answer, but she didn't say a word. Her face looked positively gray.

“Um, would it be okay if we talk to you in private?” I asked Sergeant Turrisi.

Without a word, she got up from the table and headed into a glassed-in office that was right off the conference room. We followed her and went inside while she closed the door and leaned on her desk, her arms folded.

“Now what is it you have to say?” she asked.

“My sister and I have evidence that the two boys whose names are on that paper started the fire,” I said.

Sergeant Turrisi turned to Charlie.

“Is this true?” she asked her.

Charlie made a sound that wasn't a definite yes or no. It was kind of a cross between a groan and a grunt.

“Excuse me, Ms. Diamond?”

Charlie looked up at me and I could see panic in her eyes.

“You can't back down now,” I said to her.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded and turned to Sergeant Turrisi. “Yes,” she said. “We have evidence.”

“I'll need something more specific than that, Ms. Diamond.”

Charlie looked over at me again, her eyes almost begging for me to let her off the hook. But I couldn't. It wasn't right.

“You have to say what you know,” I told her.

Charlie took a deep breath and blurted it all out in one gush. She told the sergeant everything Lauren had told her, including how the boys had planted the matches in Oscar's backpack.

“These are very serious accusations,” the sergeant said when Charlie had finished.

“That's why we think they should be here,” I said.

“People certainly have a right to face their accuser.” She nodded. “And to tell their side of the story. Follow me.”

Sergeant Turrisi left the office and headed back to the conference room, where everyone was still sitting at the long table, probably wondering what was going on. She handed the piece of paper to Officer Beswick.

“See if you can call these families and ask them to bring their boys to the station right away,” she said to him. Then turning to the rest of us, she added, “I have some paperwork I can take care of in the meantime. We will resume as soon as they get here.”

She got up and left the room without so much as a good-bye or see you later. She was a no-nonsense kind of person.

“What's going on?” Alicia asked.

“We told her we thought Sean and Jared should be here.”

“Do you think they'll come?” Oscar asked.

“I know this,” my dad said, “if they were my kids, I wouldn't give them any choice in the matter. You cooperate with the police.”

“They're not going to be happy about this,” Eddie commented.

That did it for Charlie.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” she said.

“Okay,” I answered. “But you better come back. You can't chicken out now.”

“I know this is the right thing to do, Sammie. It's just so hard. My friends mean a lot to me.”

“If they're really your friends, they'll support you doing the right thing.”

She nodded and gave me a weak little smile before leaving the room.

I sat there staring at the big clock on the wall. Oscar was fidgeting nervously, and jumped every time the hand clicked to the next number. Charlie stayed in the bathroom a long time, and I have to confess, I was very relieved when she came back.

A half hour passed, and neither the McCains nor the Pattersons showed up. My dad was busy checking his e-mail on his phone. Candido took out a comb and slicked back his hair at least three times. Oscar sat there playing with the laces on his shoes. I wanted to say something to him, to tell him that everything was going to be okay. But that would have been a lie. I wasn't sure at all that everything was going to be okay. Another fifteen minutes passed, and finally, Sergeant Turrisi returned to the conference room where we were sitting.

“I'm told that the young men in question have arrived at the station,” she said. “Officer Porter is escorting them in.”

Charlie let out a little sound that sounded like a gasp. I reached out and took her hand, hoping to give her strength. I knew this was going to be hard for her.

The first to enter were Mr. McCain and Mr. Patterson. The two dads were wearing their tennis clothes, all white of course, with collars on their shirts. They did not look happy. In fact, they looked deeply annoyed. Sergeant Turrisi didn't seem to care, though. She stood up and quickly greeted them.

Then she looked at Jared and Sean, who lagged behind their fathers, obviously not wanting to be there. Jared and Sean were in their usual saggy-baggy basketball shorts, wearing sneakers with no socks and their shoes untied. I'm sorry, but you'd think when the police call you and tell you to come to the station, you could kick it up a notch and not look like you just rolled in from the gym.

“What's this about?” Mr. McCain said as they all blustered in and took a seat.

“Last night's fire on the beach,” Officer Beswick said.

“I assume you need our boys to testify about what they found in that kid's backpack,” Mr. Patterson said. “Okay, but if we can make it quick, we'd sure appreciate it. We've got court times booked.”

“Sergeant Turrisi,” I said, “my sister and I would like to testify first, if that's all right with you.”

“This isn't a trial, Ms. Diamond,” she answered. “No one is testifying here. We are merely conducting an investigation. Gathering information.”

“I understand,” I said.

“And I'm the one in charge here,” Sergeant Turrisi continued.

I nodded and took a deep breath.

Sergeant Turrisi thumbed through the papers that were sitting in a folder on the table. “Now, the report states that these matches were from the same establishment as those found at the scene of the bonfire.” She gave Oscar a suspicious look. “That is not a very favorable finding for you, young man.”

“My sister has something to say about that, ma'am,” I said.

“Yes, I know,” Sergeant Turrisi answered. Then turning to Charlie, she said, “You seem reluctant to speak up, Ms. Diamond. Have you had second thoughts about your accusations?”

I looked at Charlie and motioned for her to speak. This was her moment. This was the time.

She looked over at Jared and Sean. Sean didn't return her look, but Jared did. He stared her down confidently, with the cocky, superior smile that was his trademark.

Charlie opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. There was panic in her eyes as she looked at me. She looked down and fidgeted with her hands in her lap. Then she opened her mouth . . . and closed it again.

Come on, Charlie. This is no time to do your impression of a goldfish blowing bubbles. Say something.

“Charlie,” my dad said, leaning toward her. “This isn't like you.”

Still she was silent.

Mr. McCain cleared his throat impatiently and pointed to his watch.

“Uh . . . two words,” he said. “Court times.”

Sergeant Turrisi gave him an extremely irritated look.

“I'm sorry if the pursuit of justice interferes with your tennis game, Mr. McCain,” she said. “How thoughtless of us.”

You rock, Sergeant Turrisi.

Her remark seemed to give Charlie the courage she needed to speak up.

“Those matches did not belong to Oscar,” she said, the words rushing out of her mouth like a torrent of water from a dam. “Jared put them in his backpack to make it seem like Oscar started the fire. But it was Jared and Sean who did it. Those two boys sitting over there.”