Forty-Five.

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Andree

"Here we are, 1900 Montgomery street." Jay said as he stopped the car. "I don't see nothing but cops-"

"Fuck!" I yelled as I dropped my guns. I jumped out of the car and ran across the street. There was yellow tape and police cars everywhere. I was too late.

"Excuse me," I said to an officer. "What's going on?"

"We're investigating a crime scene." He growled. "So, run along somewhere."

"Actually, I think you might need me." I snarled. "My girlfriend was a victim."

"What is your girlfriend's name, sir?"

"Isamariá Milian."

He wrote something down in his paper then walked over to the other officers. They exchanged some words, then the officer nodded and walked back towards me.

"Would you like to come down to the police station for questioning?"

And before I knew it, I was sitting in a dim room with a detective and a glass of water sitting in front of me.

"Good evening, my name is Detective Smith." The African American guy said as he sat down in front of me. "What's your name young man?"

"Andreson Valdez." I said.

"Okay." He nodded."Where do you live?"

"Manhattan, New York." I nodded.

"Andreson, when was the last time you seen your 'girlfriend,' Isamariá?"

"December 11th." I said. "We were hanging out with our friends in a parking lot in the Bronx. I pulled her over for a little chit chat. Then, we sat in my car a little bit and she got mad. She started walking home, and she wouldn't let me take her home."

"Okay." He said. "When were you notified that she went missing?"

"I went over to her apartment the next day because I wanted to give her Moms some money." I shook my head. "The door was unlocked so I walked in when I noticed that nobody was home. I was going to leave the money on the table. I noticed on the wall it said 'Ku Klux Klan' and it looked like blood."

"Did you call the police when you saw it?"

"No." I said. "I waited for someone to come home. When her mother came home, she acted like she didn't want to call the police. So, I said I was going to look for her myself."

"Hmm." He said as he wrote something down. "Is there anyone you know that would be involved in this incident?"

"Actually... Yes." I nodded. "My father, Robert Valdez, and a girl Rebecca Rogers."

"Do you have any proof that they are involved?"

"Yes." I nodded.

I pulled out my tape recorder and slid it over to him. I also pulled out the address that Rebecca dropped on the floor. Then, I gave him the picture I found in my dad's box of Isamariá.

"The night I questioned my mother about Isamariá, she said she didn't know. So, I went into my dad's office and found some KKK articles and that picture of Isamariá inside of this box he had." I frowned. "That same night Rebecca was in my home, and on the recording I recorded what she said about Isamariá. Then, she dropped that address on the floor. That's why I'm here."

He nodded and wrote something else down.

"Why is your father and Rebecca involved with this crime?"

"My parents are racist." I said. "They hired Isamariá to work at my home over the summer while they were gone. I was close to her when she started coming over. I never noticed how they treated her until they paid her. They gave her 70 cents!"

"What was her job?"

"She was like a babysitter and a house keeper." I said. "They would make her scrub the floors with a toothbrush, and do yard work and stuff. When I tried to help, they got mad."

"Is there anything else your parents did?"

"Yes." I nodded. "One week she was missing. My parents had Isamariá locked in this small space for a week. They didn't feed her, and I found her one night."

He wrote that down, too.

"Is there anything Isamariá did that caused this incident?"

"Nope."

"Back to the previous question. Why is your father and Rebecca involved in this crime?" He asked.

"My moms didn't want me to date a African American girl. My pops didn't, either. I guess they knew I liked her." I said. "But, I ended up dating Rebecca. We broke up because Rebecca used me and sold some videos of me to the media. Nobody believed me, either. Then, one random night my dad invites Rebecca over for dinner and they're all cool. I knew something was going on."

"Okay, Mr. Valdez." Mr. Smith said. "Since the Victim was taken to Alabama from New York, we will have your father and Rebecca Rogers put into custody. Let us know if you gather any more evidence for the case."

"Thanks." I smiled. "One more question, though."

"Yeah?"

"Can you tell me where Isamariá is?" I asked. "I really want to see her."

He gave me a grim look, then wrote something down. He tore off a piece of paper and handed it to me.

"I'll notify you when something comes up about the case." He said, then walked out of the room.

I smiled and looked at the paper, then stood up.

Finally, I was going to see Isamariá.

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