by H. L. Wegley
After they exchanged greetings, Larry invited them into his small, tidy office and motioned toward two chairs in front of his desk. “Have a seat. I have a few questions for you, but this shouldn't take too long.” Larry's gaze dropped to the stack of papers in front of him.
Jeff folded his hands on the edge of Larry's desk and waited until he looked up from the papers. “It looks like you've done your research.”
“Part of it. I called the detention facility in Medford. It has a good record for getting people processed and back out again. They pride themselves in that and want the Santiago's out as soon as possible. But when I talked to your father about it, Allie, I don't think he trusted me, at least not over the phone. He wants to meet face to face and wants you two present.”
“My father wants both Jeff and me?”
“Yes.”
“See, Jeff. Papa trusts you.”
Jeff drew Larry's gaze. “Does he know about … the attack at my house?”
“No.” Jeff slid a stack of papers to the side of his desk. “But everyone in O'Brien does. It's the most exciting thing that's happened here since, well … probably since gold was discovered over a hundred years ago. But there are some gossips who aren't happy with your being in O'Brien, even though the police say it's safe now.”
“I can understand that to a degree. But, Larry, the people in O'Brien have had problems with drug dealing in the area ever since the hippies moved in here in the late ‘60s. They had some grisly murders back then.”
Larry nodded. “But that was all among the drug dealers, not the general population.”
“Fine. If that's how people feel, I can move anywhere I choose. It doesn't affect my job. But I need to contact my insurance company about payment for my house and get approval for temporary housing. Maybe a rental closer to Cave Junction than O'Brien.”
Allie eyed him suspiciously. “Jeff, what are you thinking?”
“You and your family can live with me as long as you need to, or want to, or …” He smiled at Allie, trying to convey his desire to help the Santiago's.
Allie's beautiful face smiling back derailed his train of thought.
Larry glanced back and forth between the two of them. “I'm getting a picture here … if you two are, uh, contemplating anything, it would help if you told me now.”
Jeff grinned. “Oh, I'm contemplating a lot of things.”
Allie's face turned pink. “Jeff Jacobs, if you don't behave, I’m going to tell Papa about—”
“About what? About how you shamelessly—”
“Please, spare me the details.” Larry glanced at Allie, then Jeff. “But should you begin to contemplate anything like marriage, you need to let me know. It could have a bearing on the case.”
“Yeah. We'll do that.” Jeff paused. “So, what's our next step?”
“I want to meet with Mr. Santiago as soon as possible, and both of you need to be present. It's the only way he'll open up to me. I need to get enough information to establish everyone's identity.”
Larry picked up two papers and scanned them. “I believe you're covered, Allie, because of your student status.” He clipped the papers together and slid them to the side of his desk. “I suggest we try to meet with the Santiago's tomorrow, in Medford.”
“Call me on my cell when you've set up the meeting, Larry. I'll need to get the marshals on board with a trip to Medford.”
Larry folded his hands and propped his elbows on his desk. “That brings us to the next item of business, one we have to move quickly on. A place for everyone to stay. We have to show that the Santiago's have somewhere to stay before they can be released.”
Allie drew a sharp breath. “Do you mean they could be released soon?”
“If we get things lined up, and can pay their bond money, they might be released tomorrow.”
Allie's eyes lit up and she looked at Jeff.
He needed some help here. A place for himself was one thing, but finding an available rental for five people wouldn’t be as easy. “Larry, do you know anyone who has a big house for rent?”
Larry nodded slowly. “Do you know Mrs. Connerly at church?”
“Is she the short, gray-haired lady. A widow?”
“That's her. She recently moved to a retirement community and wants to rent out her house until she decides what to do with it. Last I heard she hadn't found a suitable renter.”
“How big is her house?”
“Really big. It's a huge rambler with four or five bedrooms. It's also along Grayback Creek. A really nice property.”
“I'll take it. But, before we sign any papers, I’ll have to contact my insurance company. Mom has had the place insured with them for the past twenty-five years. It's a good company. They'll take care of me.” Jeff paused and peered into Larry's eyes. “About paying you, Larry. I've got some money in—”
“Save it. This is immigration work. Pro bono. It's good for my business.”
“I can pay. At least let me pay for your expenses.”
“Jeff, the bond is going to be at least eight thousand dollars, four thousand each for Mr. and Mrs. Santiago. Allie's little brother won't require a separate bond. You do get the money back if they show up for all required hearings until their case is closed.”
“Fine. I'll pay for your expenses, the bonds, and if you can contact someone about Mrs. Connerly's house—”
“No problem. My wife's a real estate agent, and she's managing the property.”
“Then let's do this.”
“I've got your cell number. I'll call you when I get the appointment set up so you can clear it with the marshals.”
* * *
As they left Larry Wendell's office, Allie walked close by Jeff's side, curling her arm around Jeff's. “Are you sure you want to do all this for my family? What if you don't get along with them? What if you and I don't—”
“Allie?” He stopped her on the sidewalk and put his hands on her shoulders. “Are you having any doubts? I mean about us?”
“No. But how well can you really know me after four days, Jeff?”
“It's not the quantity of time. It's the quality.”
“But the quality was awful. We were chased, shot at. We barely survived.”
“That's my point.” Jeff move closer to her. “Shared danger has a way of compressing time. Even if you were a guy, after what we've gone through, we would be bonded for life.”
“But I'm not a guy.”
“So I've noticed. And that opens up whole new vistas for bonding.” He smiled and clasped his hands behind her neck.
Allie's heart raced. Jeff was on the verge of proposing to her. Not the marriage of desperation they had mentioned before, but the one born of a trust so deep, and a bond so strong, she couldn't escape it and had no desire to try.
She looked into Jeff's eyes trying to read them. What was coming next? Probably a kiss and then the words, but Jeff's face wore a frown.
“What's wrong, Jeff?” Her heart raced even faster.
His lips stretched into a thin smile. “I was thinking … and I suppose worrying a little.”
“Worrying?”
“Yeah. I've never done this before.”
“It's alright, Jeff. You have nothing to worry about.”
“Why don't you tell your father that. Rafael and I need to have a conversation tomorrow. I've got a question for him.”
So Jeff was going to follow traditional protocol, get the father's permission first, then the woman's. Papa would like that, but Jeff should have her answer now. She wanted him to have it now.
Allie tilted her face up and looked into Jeff's eyes, their lips only inches apart.
“Allie, you should be ashamed of yourself, tempting me like this.”
“Well, I'm not.” She relaxed in his arms and waited as Jeff's lips loomed nearer to hers.
What was that noise?
Jeff sighed.
“Jeff?”
“It's either Larry or the marshals. I'd bette
r answer this.”
He flipped open his cell. “Hello… Hi, Larry. What's up? … Nothing at all? … Yeah. I'll ask Allie …” He closed his cell and stared into the distance, his eyes clouded with confusion.
“What's happening? You need to tell me, Jeff. “
He sighed heavily. “Larry tried to find some identification for your father. The Mexican authorities said it isn't in the new identity database, the biometrics one. And it isn't in something called the CURP database. Officially, Rafael Santiago doesn't exist.”
“But that's not possible.” This could turn out badly. Allie’s pulse pounded out her growing panic. There was only one explanation, and it brought a new kind of danger.
Chapter 25
Bumps, hurdles, then mountains. Every step of Jeff’s journey with Allie had been a struggle. And now something unforeseen had been added to the list of obstacles.
“You need to tell me what it is that's not possible, Allie. I thought we were about to bring closure to the whole cartel mess.”
She shook her head and her vision blurred from unshed tears. “Whenever the cartels are involved it is always a mess, a dangerous mess.” Allie sighed and wiped her eyes. “Mexico began doing retina scans and taking fingerprints of all babies and children a few years ago in preparation for new biometrics-based ID cards. Papa and Mama were among the first of the older segment of the population to get the new card.”
He brushed a stubborn tear from her cheek. “Shouldn't we be having this discussion with Larry?”
“I'm just giving you the nutshell version. Larry will probably have a lot more questions.” She paused. “A lot of citizens opposed the new system because whoever controlled the database would have too much knowledge about the citizens. It could be used for evil purposes. The cartel must have bought someone in the federal government, someone who has access to the database. They deleted my family from it.”
If they were in transition, surely this database had a predecessor that still existed. “What was used before the biometric system?”
“Mostly CURP, the system you mentioned during the phone call. Evidently, the cartel removed our family from the CURP database, too.”
No ID. Illegal in the U.S., and illegal in Mexico for that matter. “It makes sense.” He took her hand. “If they were going to use your family as slaves, it would be much safer if your family had no identity… no identity anywhere on the planet.”
“I know. I'm guessing they erased my records too. But I established enough identity at OSU, and in the state of Oregon, that maybe I can get mine back.”
“Oh, Larry said we leave for Medford at 8:00 a.m. tomorrow. Maybe we can brainstorm with him on the drive over. Medford's a little over an hour from Cave Junction.”
She looked up at him, her dark brown eyes pools of sadness. “A few moments ago, I was so happy, Jeff. What is God doing to us?”
“Not God, Allie. More like His antithesis. Satan and the cartel are on the same side.”
“For the rest of the afternoon, can we please do something fun, something to keep my mind off this? Let's go through your house and—.”
“Fun? Looking at my destroyed house is fun?”
“No. But finding things that can be salvaged would be. Getting something good back when you think that it's lost, wouldn’t that be enjoyable?”
“Yeah. I guess it would. You know, God is like that. He takes what’s lost, then restores it or replaces it with something better. You'll see, Allie.”
“I wish I had your faith.”
“You do. Remember up on the mountain? You know, sometimes things happen that seem to cast a slur on God's name. They test our faith.”
“Please ask Him to stop the tests and just give me the final exam. I'm so tired, Jeff.” Her head leaned onto his shoulder Allie's arms circled his waist.
“His Word tells us that He can take everything that happens and use it for good. We need to wait, watch, and prepare to be amazed.”
She looked up into his eyes with a weak smile on her lips, and tear tracks on her cheeks.
He cradled her head in his hands. “I'll do anything I can to help.”
Before Jeff could react Allie kissed him, leaving behind the taste of salty tears.
She gasped and pulled her head back. “I'm sorry, Jeff. That wasn't something you do in …”
“Generally, not in a public place. And definitely not in the middle of town.”
She took his hand and squeezed it. “But you made me happy. Let's walk back to the inn and see if Wes will take us to your house.”
* * *
Allie woke to soft praise and worship music on the clock radio in her room. Despite the potential impacts on her life that this critical day may bring, she was, for the most part, at peace. Jeff had given her what she most needed yesterday, hope and love. And they had rescued many records from his mom’s collection, including Unchained Melody.
She quickly showered, dressed, and met Jeff in the living room of the suite where he sat talking to Wes.
Jeff stood when she walked in. “I ordered breakfast for us, Allie. It's on its way.”
“Thanks. I'm starved.” She glanced at Wes. “Who's driving us to Medford?”
“That would be me,” Wes said. “The closer you are to your parents, the more we need to watch you. But there have been no more signs of the cartel since we ran them out of Dodge.”
“You'll see signs of cartel activity today, signs of what they did a couple of weeks ago.”
Wes nodded. “Jeff told me about the identity problems.”
A knock sounded on the door.
Jeff headed for the door. “Let's eat. We've only got about twenty minutes. We can talk about this in the car with Larry.”
Jeff's cell rang. He stopped and answered.
“What? You've got to be kidding … So now what do we do?”
Jeff’s clenched jaw and the tension in his voice sent an icy chill through her.
Jeff blew out a blast of air. “Okay. I'll tell them and let you know what they say when you get here.” Jeff closed his cell and stared at the floor, avoiding her eyes.
Allie’s heart revved. “Jeff, what is it?”
He slowly raised his face and met her gaze.
The fear in his eyes was contagious. It sent her heart into a wild rhythm.
“Allie … ICE is sending your family to Portland. They just left Medford in a van.”
“What? Why would they send my family to Portland?” Allie's world had moved again on the shifting sands of immigration policy. Breakfast might be on its way to their suite, but fear induced nausea had taken away what little remained of her appetite.
“Portland is the only place in Oregon where they have Immigration Court. Larry is on his way over, but he said …” Jeff turned to Wes, “… we need to file a new flight plan. We’re going to Portland, and we need to leave now. Would you please handle that, Wes?”
Wes gave him a palms-up shrug. “Why the hurry?”
Jeff looked at her, then back to Wes. “He's afraid ICE, or an immigration judge, will send them to the regional detention facility in Tacoma. It's ... “ Jeff cleared his throat, “… not a good place.”
“Not good at all,” Wes muttered. “But I’m on it.”
Jeff's words hit her like a punch in the stomach. What more could go wrong? She and her family had helped stop a major marijuana operation, had nearly been killed in the process, and this was their reward? “Jeff, why is this happening?”
“I don't know. But we're going to have at least four hours in the car to discuss that with Larry.”
Fifteen minutes later, Allie sat beside Jeff in the rear seat of the big sedan, her arm curled around his. “Mr. Wendell—”
“Just Larry, please.”
“Larry, what happens if we can't find any documentation for my family?”
Larry turned in his seat and looked back at her. “If your parents ask for asylum, which I think is a good move on their part, the law says they don't hav
e to produce documentation if it's not reasonable to do so or if it would endanger them. But few judges will grant asylum without some proof of identity. Where might we look for identity information besides the new database and CURP?”
“For me there's probably ample proof of who I am from all the documents on file at Oregon State University. My application for an international scholarship was pretty thorough in that regard.” She shook her head. “It's not going to be nearly as easy for my parents.”
“What other IDs do you carry in Mexico? A driver's license?”
“Yes. That would be worth checking, because each state maintains its own records. You could check with the State of Sonora. The cartel may have bought some employee in the federal government, but that doesn't mean they can remove my father's driver's license from a state-owned database in Sonora. But Mama didn't drive.”
“If we can get your father's ID, and get him out on bond, your father's status will apply to your mother and brother. The judge will probably be lenient with your mother and brother. If you'll pardon me for a minute, I'll get my assistant on the driver's license search.” Larry pulled out his cell and soon was engrossed in a conversation with his paralegal. “Allie, it's the state of Sonora right?”
“Yes, Sonora.” She watched every expression on Larry Wendell's face.
He seemed pleased when he ended the call. “Now, for the next item of business. After we get them out on bond, we need to get a visa for them to stay in the United States?” He paused. “There are several approaches we could take, but what best fits your parents' case and puts them in a favorable position with the police is applying for a U visa with non-immigrant status.”
The words, “non-immigrant status,” sounded in her mind like a warning bell, more bad news. “Non-immigrant status sounds like it doesn't allow them to stay in the U.S.”
“Not indefinitely. But what it does do is substantiate that they were victims of organized crime and that they're willing to testify against the cartel members we've taken into custody. That will allow your family to stay until the trials are over.”
“How long might that be?”
“One to two years. But it also gives us time to petition for asylum based on all the evidence that will come out in the trials, including the attempts on their lives. I think it gives them an excellent chance at permanent residence and probably a path to citizenship, if they want it. And it buys us two years of time to make that happen.”
