And not trying to take advantage of her during this dreadful time.
Even these punks, who are looking at me suspiciously.
Javier got out of the car and made eye contact with Yvette. As he started walking across the street, she popped up out of her chair and went quickly down the steps toward him.
He was surprised. What the hell is up with her?
But knowing his baby sister as well as he did, nothing she did should ever have come as a surprise to Javier Iglesia.
What the very petite Yvette Iglesia lacked in physical height-she stood four-feet-ten-she more than made up for with a bubbly, oversize personality. She spoke almost nonstop, mostly in rapid-fire bursts, gesturing wildly with her hands to make her points. She had straight black shoulder-length hair framing a pretty face that clearly showed her Puerto Rican heritage. Her dark eyes were full of life. And her small mouth was impressive not only for its dazzling smile, but also for the raw expletives that came out of it when she was angry, ones that Javier said "would embarrass a Port of Philly longshoreman."
"Don't forget," Yvette often said with a smile, almost as a provocation, "that dynamite comes in small packages."
Three hours earlier, just as Javier had backed up the van carrying Principal Bazelon's body to the Medical Examiner's Office, his cell phone had pinged, alerting him to a new text message.
When he had looked at the phone's screen, the message surprised him:
YVETTE
His first thought: What a sweetheart.
Then: How the hell did she find out so fast?
After processing the body of Mrs. Joelle Bazelon into the system that was the Medical Examiner's Office-putting the body bag in one of the stainless-steel refrigerator compartments, then entering the report and photographs taken at the scene into the computer filing system-Javier had called his sister.
"Hey, I got your text. Thanks."
"You're welcome," she said, her usual bubbly tone gone. "It's… it's all just so awful…"
"Yeah. She was a terrific lady. How'd you find out so fast? And that it was me? I mean, I'd barely left the scene"-he paused and thought, Wrong word-"that is, Principal Bazelon's house, when you sent that."
"Some guys walking around the neighborhood saw the ME van and stopped to watch."
She knows those thugs watching from across the street?
Maybe Kim Soo was right. They were wannabe gangstas-from-the-'hood.
"You know those guys?"
"No, not really. They think they're bad news. Jorge's little brother, Paco, he hangs with them, which makes Jorge mad."
Then I was right and Soo was wrong.
I knew I had that gut feeling they were up to no good…
Yvette went on: "Anyway, Paco told Jorge he saw you at the Bazelons', and Jorge texted me about the ME van and Principal Bazelon dying and all."
Javier knew only vaguely of either Ramirez brother.
"And then Keesha called crying."
"Keesha?"
"Keesha Cook."
"Oh, that Keesha. How's she connected?"
"She and Sasha live on the same street. Longtime neighbors and friends. And you know Keesha used to come over and hang out."
"Yeah, I remember that. Okay, it all makes sense now."
"Word's gotten out fast, Javier. I mean there's already a big memorial at the middle school by the back door. People coming by and leaving flowers and stuffed animals. There's these big white bedsheets that they're drawing on and writing poems and memories and stuff about her. And there's already a memorial page dedicated to her on the Internet. People from around the world-and I mean around the world, Javier, like China and shit-are writing about what an influence she was to them. Someone's even made a page with a map of the world, and every time someone writes one of those notes or posts a photo of them, one of these red pushpins pops up on the map showing where these people are in the world-Africa, Europe, all over. Most of them are in Philly, though, real thick red here, then it gets thinner going out."
"That's amazing. All in-what?-just two hours? Amazing, is what that is."
"I just texted Keesha, and she's headed over to Sasha's. I'm going to go over, too. Talk her up, you know? I remember how terrible I felt when we lost our abuela, and even then we had each other to lean on. Sasha's so very alone now."
"Yvette, you know Sasha real good?"
"Sort of. Sure. Why?"
"Is she in any kind of trouble that you know of?"
"Sasha? No! Never. Why?"
"While I was there, I heard her answering questions from the police. What she told them wasn't much. Just that she came home late last night, saw her grandmother was asleep on the couch, then went to bed. When she came down next morning, her grandmother was dead."
"Yeah? And?"
"Look, I think there's more. I know there's more."
"Like what, Javier?"
"Somebody had tied Principal Bazelon's hands and wrists-"
He heard Yvette gasp.
He went on: "But when we got there, whatever they'd been tied with was gone. Just bruises left."
"You think Sasha did something to her? I can't imagine-"
"No. But I do think something happened that she won't tell anyone, especially the cops."
"Nobody talks to the man, Javier. Not if they're smart and don't want no trouble. No offense, big bro."
"I know that. Look, I'm not saying Sasha did anything wrong. But something is not right about those bruises on her grandmother, ones Dr. Mitchell is going to see and question. If he thinks the death wasn't as simple as just an old lady going to sleep and never waking up, he'll have to tell the police. And then Sasha might get in real trouble."
"Oh my God, Javier. That's terrible!"
"I'm not saying she did anything to hurt her. Just that she's not telling everything that happened to her grandmother. Sasha is deeply hurt. No question she's hurt. But there's more than just sadness in her eyes. There's… fear, is what there is."
"Fear of what?"
Javier sighed loudly, then said, "I don't know."
"What do you want me to do?"
"Maybe just keep your eyes and ears open when you go over?"
There was a long silence. Then she said: "Okay. Sure. Anything."
"I'd like to stop by, too. I didn't get a chance to tell her how sorry I was."
"Okay. I'm walking over now."
"See you shortly." Yvette Iglesia ran to intercept her brother in front of the Bazelon row house. Javier glanced at the crowd of tough guys on the sidewalk and saw that they were following his every step. He recognized Paco Ramirez and thought he'd look like the nice kid next door if not for the wannabe gangsta clothing. Javier nodded at him, and Paco nodded back.
As Javier reached the sidewalk, Yvette met him. He saw that her eyes were tearing. As she hugged him, she softly said, "You were right, big bro."
"About what?"
She took a step back, crossed her arms over her chest, and looked up at Javier.
"She's only told Keesha," she said, "and Keesha's only told me."
"What?" he asked quietly.
She turned her back to the boys on the sidewalk, then, keeping her voice low, practically spat out: "That fucking shit Xpress-Xavier Smith?" She paused, and after Javier nodded that he knew him, went on. "He was here last night getting revenge on Sasha's grandmother for calling the cops on him. She saw him stealing a neighbor's TV. He hid on the porch last night, and when Sasha got home from Keesha's, he forced his way inside."