3 A Basket of Trouble

by Beth Groundwater

  Charley stopped and his shoulders slumped as if he realized trying to stop Pedro was hopeless. He trudged back to Claire. “Damn.” He tore his cowboy hat off his head and slapped it against his thigh.

  Claire put a hand on his shoulder. “There’s no way you could have caught up to him.”

  “ICE didn’t have a warrant to search my private buildings for people.” Charley’s voice was strained with regret. “Only one for my records. I could have protected Pedro for a while. But if ICE catches him now, they can deport him immediately.”

  Probably having realized the same thing, the young ICE officer had taken off running after Pedro. He passed them and headed for the hill. His athletic shoes and loose clothing had an obvious purpose now.

  Pedro scrambled up the rise, his panic evident in his uncontrolled movements.

  Claire and Charley watched the desperate chase in tense silence. Jorge came out of the barn and stood with them, concern etched in the weathered lines of his face.

  The ICE officer slowly gained on Pedro. He methodically worked his way up the hill while Pedro clawed and slipped on the loose scree.

  Unger swaggered up to Charley, a smug smile on his face. “We have a patrol car stationed on the other side of that hill, Mr. Gardner. We’ll get him. Since he’s running, he must be illegal.”

  “You’ve got to believe me that I didn’t know,” Charley replied.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Unger said. “You’ll be fined. And if you’ve got any other illegal immigrants on the property, you’ll be fined for them, too.”

  Unger followed his cohort. His stride was confident and unhurried, as if realizing the young ICE officer wouldn’t need his help.

  Charley threw his hat on the ground. “Shit!”

  Jessica and Detective Wilson came up, and Jessica bent down to pick up Charley’s hat. Jorge listened intently while Charley explained the situation to Jessica.

  The two young men crested the hill and disappeared from view. After a few tense minutes, they both returned. The ICE officer was pushing Pedro ahead of him. Pedro’s hands were handcuffed behind him and his head was lowered in defeat. Sam Unger met them about halfway down the hill. He took one of Pedro’s arms and the three of them picked their way slowly back down.

  “Do you know where Pedro lives?” Charley asked Jorge.

  Jorge nodded.

  “Once they get back, I want you to get Pedro’s key and pack up his stuff for him. You’ll still be on the clock for the time you spend there.” He turned to Wilson. “Do you know how soon they’ll bus him back over the border?”

  To Wilson’s credit, his expression was sympathetic. “They send a bus most mornings. It leaves from Denver and stops here for any local deportees before heading down to Mexico. But I’m going to request a deportation hold on him. I may need to question Pedro some more before these murder cases are closed. Hopefully my request will be approved.”

  “Just in case it isn’t,” Charley said, “I’ll make sure I get his stuff and back pay to him before tomorrow morning.”

  “Can’t we do anything else for poor Pedro?” Jessica asked. “Can we sponsor him for a green card?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Wilson said. “If someone enters the country illegally, they have to go back to their home country. Then they have to wait ten years before petitioning to enter legally.”

  Jessica’s mouth dropped open. “Ten years! What kind of stupid law is that?”

  Wilson shrugged. “We cops don’t make the laws. We just enforce them.”

  “I hate to think of the impact this will have on his family.” Claire turned to Charley. “Is there any way we can help him find work in Mexico?”

  “What about your former boss in Oaxaca?” Charley asked Jorge.

  “I will call him,” Jorge said quietly.

  “And I’ll give Pedro a good reference. You know, with his English skills, he might do well working at a stable in one of the tourist areas in Mexico. Ask your former boss if he’s got any contacts, and we’ll follow up with them.” Charley rubbed his hands together, energized now that he had a plan for helping Pedro.

  By then, the ICE officials had arrived with Pedro in tow. He looked heartbroken, his eyes reddened but defiant, a scratch leaking blood down his dusty cheek.

  Jessica hugged him. “Oh Pedro, I’m so sorry this happened.”

  “Sí.” The word came out choked. Pedro clamped his lips shut, as if afraid he would break down if he said anything else.

  The young ICE officer tugged on his arm, directing him toward the parking lot, but Charley stepped toward them. “May I have a moment, please?”

  The officer glanced at Unger, who nodded.

  Charley briefed Pedro on their plan. He confirmed with Unger that he could bring Pedro’s things to the jail while he was on immigration hold. Unger assured him the money and clothes would be held in a safe place and given to Pedro before he boarded the bus.

  Jorge took Pedro’s apartment key, got directions on what to pack for him, and clamped a hand on Pedro’s shoulder. A long moment of silence passed between them before Jorge squeezed and released Pedro’s shoulder and turned away.

  Unger watched all this with his arms crossed. He stepped up to Pedro. “You know, I can make this easier for you, recommend to the judge that he give you thirty days for voluntary departure if you give me some information on Oscar Vargas.”

  Pedro drew back, his eyes wide. “I no can do that.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “He shoot me. Just like Hector.”

  Wilson perked up. “Hector Garcia, the illegal immigrant whose body we found two weeks ago dumped in Monument Creek?”

  Pedro hesitated, then nodded.

  “How do you know Oscar Vargas shot Hector Garcia?”

  Pedro shrugged. “Everyone know.”

  “Hot damn,” Wilson said. “This is the first good lead we’ve had in that case.”

  Claire had a sudden memory flash. “There’s something I didn’t tell Charley about the fight between Gil and Pedro that might help here,” she said to Wilson. “Remember I told you that Gil said he knew about Vargas’s operation, and Kyle’s hand in it, and he threatened to tell ICE?”

  “It sure would have saved us a lot of trouble if he had,” Sam Unger said sarcastically.

  Wilson nodded. “Vargas may have killed both of them, especially if he found out that Kaplan threatened to go to ICE. And now we know he’s killed before.” He turned to Pedro. “Did you tell Vargas about Kaplan’s threat?”

  “No, sir.”

  “You sure?” Wilson waited while Pedro nodded then turned to Unger. “This is helpful information for me, at least. It could lead to closing three murder cases, the two here and Hector Garcia’s.” He turned to Pedro. “Where can we find Oscar Vargas?”

  “No sé. He find me when I need pay him.”

  “Pay him?” Jessica asked.

  Claire explained the smuggling fee to her while Wilson continued to pressure Pedro. Finally he asked, “Do you have a phone number for him?”

  Pedro shook his head. “He have mine.”

  Unger shot Pedro a skeptical look. “We’ll need your cell phone, then, so we can back trace the calls. Where’s he hang out?”

  “No sé.”

  “Don’t tell us you don’t know. I think you’re just afraid to say,” Unger spat back. “Look, this Vargas can’t get you in Mexico.”

  Pedro shrank back. “Sí, he can.”

  The cops stood there with arms crossed. They were at an impasse.

  Wilson sighed. “Take him. We’ve got enough to work with now to find Oscar Vargas on our own. If not, Pedro and I will have another talk.”

  Claire chewed on her lip. Hopefully they would find Vargas before he found Pedro—or anyone else at the stable he might think would rat on him.

 
———

  Late that afternoon, Claire was back in the reception area of the Gardner’s Stables trailer office. She had gone home to fetch an old duffel bag and brought it to the trailer. When Jorge returned with Pedro’s belongings stuffed into a well-worn backpack and a large black trash bag, Claire repacked the clothes into the duffel. Jessica added some nonperishable snacks and a couple of bottles of water.

  Charley returned from the bank with cash for Pedro’s back pay. He put the envelope in the outside pocket of the backpack.

  “Should we hide the money?” Claire asked.

  “No,” Charley said. “When I turn this stuff over to ICE, I’ll have them count the money and give me a receipt. That’s the best way to make sure it isn’t stolen. They’re going to search all his stuff anyway.”

  “Do you think Pedro will just turn around and try to cross the border again?” Jessica asked.

  “Most illegal immigrants do. I hope Pedro won’t, given our plan. I hope he’ll wait to find out if Jorge and I can find him a legal stable job in Mexico.” Charley stood with hands on his hips, surveying Pedro’s meager pile of possessions. “Well, I guess I’d better take these over to the jail.”

  He shouldered the backpack and picked up the duffel by the handles. Before he could leave, the trailer door opened and Jorge and Nancy Schwartz stepped in.

  “We have to talk to you.” Jorge’s expression was solemn, his hat clenched in his hand. “It’s important.”

  “Sure.” Charley put down Pedro’s gear and swept a hand toward the sofa. “Have a seat.”

  While Charley settled into a chair across from them, Claire and Jessica shared a puzzled glance. Why was Nancy here?

  Nancy sat primly on the end of the sofa with her hands clasped in her lap. She looked at Jessica. “First, I owe you an apology for saying those nasty things about your stable at the Childhood Services Center. I called the director and explained to her that the Mendozas have dropped their suit. I told her that what I said was done out of jealousy, not based on any facts. And if you’re willing, I’d like us to go back there together when the two weeks is up.”

  “Apology accepted,” Jessica said. “But why the sudden change of heart?”

  Nancy looked at Jorge, who covered her hands with one of his. “Jorge told me how much you two have helped him, how kind you are. He helped me realize that you weren’t my competition and that we could work together.” She paused and took a deep breath. “And we’re all going to have to work together to solve a bigger problem.”

  Charley’s brow furrowed. “What problem?”

  “My problem.” Jorge shifted in his seat and took a deep breath. “This is very hard for me to say. After the ICE man said he would fine you for Pedro and for any other illegal immigrants you employ, I realized I could not stay quiet any longer. You see, I legally entered the United States on a temporary work visa. But that expired many years ago, and since your friend was still anxious to have me work for him, I just stayed. I got a fake social security card and used that to get a New Mexico driver’s license. Your friend thought I had gotten my green card. So, I am an illegal immigrant, too.”

  Charley closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the chair back. “Damn it all to hell.”

  Claire and Jessica exchanged stricken looks.

  “This is where I come in.” Nancy’s tongue flicked across her lips. “I would like to offer Jorge a job at my stable, so he’ll no longer be on your books when ICE comes.”

  “Even though you know that’s illegal?” Claire asked.

  “For someone I love, I’m willing to take that chance. Then after things settle down, maybe he can come back here to work.” Nancy smiled at Jorge. “Or maybe he’ll like working at my stable and will stay.”

  He frowned. “We did not talk about that.”

  Charley opened his eyes, sat up and shook his head. “I’m already down two staff again, with Pedro gone. Another of my wranglers is still green, having just started today. I need Jorge here. I’d rather contact an immigration lawyer in town and see what we can do. I think the laws are different if you entered the country legally than if you crossed the border illegally like Pedro did.”

  “But that’s risky for Jorge,” Nancy said.

  “We’ve got three days,” Charley replied. “Give me that time, at least, to see if we can solve this.”

  Jorge looked at Nancy for acceptance.

  She sighed. “I guess so.”

  Charley’s sad gaze fell on Jorge. “I don’t want to lose you, Jorge. You’ve been a damn fine employee and a good friend. I rely on you for a lot.”

  Jorge looked pained. “It hurts me to cause you so much trouble, especially on top of your other problems.”

  “And I just thought of another thing,” Charley said, with widening eyes. “I’ve been paying social security for both you and Pedro, and neither one of you will ever see any of that money.”

  Jorge nodded. “The pay we get after taxes is still much more than we would get in Mexico—if we could find the work. But I have heard that ICE carefully researches the numbers when they search a business’s records, and that will tell them I am not legal.”

  Charley exhaled. “And they don’t give employers a way to reliably check the numbers other than with E-verify, which misses a lot of cases of identity fraud. Of course, if I’d found out your identity documents weren’t legal, I wouldn’t have hired you—and benefited from your expertise.”

  “I am very, very sorry.” Jorge’s face screwed up as if he were in pain. “If the lawyer cannot help, I will leave before ICE returns, so you will not have to pay the fine for me.”

  Rubbing his forehead, Charley grimaced. “I don’t know how this stable can function without you.”

  “This sucks.” Jessica said. “It’s not fair, not to you, not to us. You’re just trying to earn a living, and we’re just trying to run a business.”

  Everyone was quiet.

  First Kyle, then Gil, then Pedro, and now Jorge, Claire thought. Charley’s stable was being decimated not only by loss of business from news of the murders, but also by the loss of most of his employees. Only Hank Isley, part-time Brittany, and the new hire remained. Thinking back on the murders reminded Claire that Nancy hadn’t been completely ruled out as a suspect. Maybe she could push some of Nancy’s buttons and see what came out.

  “Nancy?” she asked. “I see you and Jorge are dating, but you disapproved of Brittany dating Kyle Mendoza. Isn’t that a little unfair?”

  Nancy frowned. “We’re completely different. I’ve already raised my family, and I’m supporting myself since Brittany’s father and I divorced. I don’t need anyone to support me.”

  “Neither does Brittany,” Claire said. “She seems like a capable young woman who can support herself.”

  Nancy snorted. “As a wrangler?” She glanced at Jorge. “No offense, but I want more for Brittany, much more.”

  “So you wanted to get Kyle out of her life.”

  “Yes, and that damn Vince Donahue, too.”

  Nancy was getting emotional. Claire decided it was time to move in for the kill. “Brittany told me that when you came to pick her up on the night Kyle was killed you went up to the port-a-potty. She couldn’t see you from the car, so you could have gone in the barn then, too.”

  “Why? Jorge’s car was gone, so I knew he wasn’t there.”

  “But Kyle was there. Maybe you wanted to get him out of Brittany’s life, as you said.”

  Nancy shot to her feet. “You can’t be serious. You’re trying to pin his murder on me?”

  Claire gave a theatrical shrug. “If the shoe fits.”

  “Claire!” Jessica came around from behind her desk. “I don’t know where this idea came from, but Charley and I don’t agree with Claire, Nancy. Not at all.”

  Damn. There went all of the momentum out
of Claire’s accusation. Her heart sank.

  Nancy advanced on Claire, her face red and her hands balled into fists. “I’m not a killer. I may not have liked Kyle, but I wouldn’t have killed him. No way.”

  Claire held up her hands. “Okay, I’m sorry.”

  Nancy wheeled on Jorge. “Come on. We’re getting out of here.”

  Jorge rose and the two left, Nancy literally huffing as they walked out onto the porch.

  Charley followed and shook Jorge’s hand, holding on to it for a long moment before releasing it. Claire inched past him to watch Jorge and Nancy march toward the parking lot. Nancy’s stiff back could reflect true indignation, or she was an awfully good actress.

  Charley yelled after them. “We’ll make this work, Jorge!”

  Jorge nodded then put an arm around Nancy. He bent his head toward her, saying something that was obviously meant to calm her.

  Charley turned on Claire. “Why the hell did you say those things to Nancy?”

  A movement in the stable yard caught her eye. Hank Isley was trotting toward the barn, from the direction of the back of the trailer. She poked her head back in the trailer and saw that both the front and back windows were wide open, to let in the breeze.

  She looked back at Charley. “A more important question is, did Hank Isley just overhear our whole conversation?”

  fourteen:

  an informer

  Claire’s mind was working faster than her fingers Tuesday morning. Sitting at the large oak table in her basement workroom, she was constructing a Denver Broncos gift basket for an avid fan. She had dyed a large bamboo basket just the right vivid orange to match one of the team’s colors. Now she was braiding a navy blue ribbon through the weave of the basket.

  The braiding task left her mind free to review the potential suspects in Kyle’s and Gil’s murders. The most likely one, and the one Detective Wilson was pursuing, was Oscar Vargas, the immigrant smuggler. He had demonstrated the ruthlessness to kill at least once before. Claire could see him going after Gil, if he thought Gil had seen him kill Kyle. Or if he found out that Gil had threatened to take information about his smuggling ring to ICE. But as Brittany had said, Vargas had no reason to kill Kyle, and he valued Kyle’s work for his ring.