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Mrs. Boone said, “It’s Sunday morning, Theo. Why wouldn’t we go to church?”

“Just asking, that’s all.”

Fine, let’s play the quiet game.

After church and lunch, Theo wanted to get out of the house. He told his mother he was going for a bike ride, with Judge on a leash. She told him to be home before dark. He took off, flying along the shaded streets of his quiet neighborhood. He waved at Mr. Nunnery, an old guy who never left his porch, and he called “Hello” to Mrs. Goodloe, another neighbor but one who couldn’t hear.

Once again, Theo was thankful that he lived in a town where kids could ride their bikes anywhere they wanted, with no worries about heavy traffic and a million people on the sidewalks. He could never live in a place like Washington. It was a cool city, a nice place to visit, but Theo needed space. With Judge galloping beside him like the happiest dog in the world, he zigzagged here and there, avoiding downtown where a bored policeman might yell at him for running stop signs. Theo knew many of the policemen in town and they were generally nice guys, but there were a few who felt as though kids on bikes should follow all the rules of the road. One of his favorite places was the campus of Stratten College, where students were always tossing Frisbees and killing time on the wide, green lawns. He liked the college but wasn’t sure he would go there. It was very close to home and, at the age of thirteen, he was already thinking about getting away.

The Delmont neighborhood was near the school and a lot of students lived there, in older duplexes and apartment buildings and run-down houses. There were coffee shops, bars, used bookstores — a more rustic version of downtown. He found the street he was looking for, then the small house where Julio Pena and his family had been living for a few months.

The Penas had once lived in the homeless shelter on Highland Street. Theo had met Julio there and had helped him with his homework. He was a seventh grader at Strattenburg Middle School, and Theo saw him occasionally on the playground. His cousin, Bobby Escobar, was the prosecution’s star witness against Pete Duffy.

On the day Myra Duffy was murdered, Bobby was working at the Waverly Creek golf course. He had been there for about three months. He had been in the country for about a year, after he entered illegally from El Salvador. Some would call him an “illegal immigrant.” Others, an “undocumented worker.”

Theo had read in the newspaper that there were about eleven million people like Bobby working and hiding in the country.

At any rate, Bobby was having a quiet lunch under some trees when he saw Pete Duffy suddenly appear in his golf cart, hustle into his home, stay about ten minutes, then hop back into his golf cart and speed away. It was eleven forty-five a.m., the approximate time Myra Duffy was strangled to death. Bobby was afraid to come forward for the obvious reason — he did not want to be deported — but Theo had convinced him to talk to Judge Gantry. This was after the trial had started, and it was the reason the judge declared a mistrial. Since then, the police had promised to protect Bobby and make sure he didn’t get into any immigration problems. Mr. and Mrs. Boone were attempting to sponsor him and help him get his citizenship, but that process was moving slowly.

Theo knocked on the door but no one answered. He peeked into the backyard, then hopped on his bike and continued down the street. Some boys were playing a pickup game of soccer in a small park and a lot of people were watching and milling about. Almost all appeared to be Hispanic. Julio was with a group of kids, including his twin siblings, Hector and Rita, behind a goal, kicking a soccer ball and killing time. Theo inched closer until Julio saw him. He smiled, walked over, and said, “Theo, what are you doing here?”

“Nothing really, just out riding my bike.”

When the Pena family lived at the shelter, Theo had taught English to Hector and Rita, and when the two kids saw him talking to their brother they ran over to say hello. Judge soon got their attention, and they took the leash and went for a walk. A lot of kids noticed Judge and wanted to pat him on the head and say things to him. It was a proud moment for the dog.

Theo and Julio chatted about this and that, and when the time was right Theo asked, “Say, Julio, how’s Bobby doing? Is he still living with you guys?”

Julio frowned and glanced at the soccer game not far away. “He stays with us some, and then he’ll go back to his old place. He’s still pretty scared, you know? Plus, Bobby and my mother don’t always get along.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Yeah, they fight a lot. Bobby likes to drink beer and he brings it home, and this upsets my mother. She doesn’t want that stuff in the house, says it’s her house, and he has to live by the rules. And I think he might be doing some other bad stuff, you know?”

“I know,” Theo said, though he really didn’t. “Doesn’t sound too good. Is he still working at the golf course?”

Julio nodded.

“Look, Julio, there’s something Bobby needs to know. They just found Pete Duffy and arrested him. He’s coming back to town for another trial.”

“The guy who killed his wife?”

“Yep, and Bobby is about to be a very important person. Has he talked to the police lately?”

“I don’t know. I don’t see him every day.”

“Well, I think you need to talk to Bobby just so he’ll know. I’m sure the police will be around shortly to have a chat.” Theo wanted to say something about Omar Cheepe and Paco and the other tough guys who were still around, and probably still worked for Pete Duffy, but he didn’t want to frighten anyone. If Bobby got scared, he would vanish into the night.

Julio said, “He’s thinking about going home. His mother is dying and he’s very homesick.”

“Your mother’s sister?”

“Yes.”

“I’m so sorry. But my parents are trying to help him get a work permit. He really shouldn’t leave anytime soon, Julio. Can you tell him this?”

“It’s his mother, Theo. If your mother were dying wouldn’t you want to go home?”

“Sure.”

“Plus, he’s still pretty nervous about getting involved. Just last week some of his friends who worked in an apple orchard not far from here got arrested because they didn’t have the papers, you know, and now they’re in jail somewhere, waiting to be sent back to El Salvador. It’s not easy living like this, Theo. It may be hard for you to understand, but Bobby doesn’t want to be involved. He doesn’t trust everyone like you do.”

“Okay. I get it.”

Hector and Rita were back with Judge, bored with him now and ready to hand over the leash. Judge was tired of the attention and wanted to leave. Theo said good-bye to the Penas and pedaled away.

Chapter 11

Theo’s favorite teacher was Mr. Mount, his homeroom teacher and faculty adviser for the Debate Team. He was in his mid-thirties, still single, and prone to flirting with the young female teachers, and he had a happy, laid-back attitude about life that the boys adored. His family was full of lawyers and he himself had finished law school and worked for one less than pleasant year with a big firm in Chicago. He loved teaching, enjoyed being around kids, and had decided that he belonged in a classroom and not a courtroom. He taught Government at third period, and was often inclined to let the boys discuss whatever they wanted as long as it was remotely related to politics, history, or the law. Also, he gave easy tests.

With Duffy all over the news, there was little doubt about what the class would dwell on Monday morning.

“I have a question,” Darren said not long after Mr. Mount called the class to order.