Above The Law

CHAPTER 8

HALF THE SHADE UNDER THE PUMP ROOF STOOD EMPTY, SO Casey knew her team had been hard at work. She let herself in the back way, taking one step inside before she recoiled, retching. She clasped her hand to her face and peered inside. A pool of sewer water covered her office floor. A small slick of luminescent greens, purples, and blues oozed across the surface, a psychedelic scum hinting of gasoline. From the low center of the small room a floor drain coughed and bubbled.

"Stacy!" she said, covering her face the instant the word left her lips.

Across the dark pool, the door swung open and Stacy appeared.

"Oh, God, I know," she said. "The plumber's on his way. Someone clogged the toilet."

Casey saw now that the outside bathroom door was ajar and the small stream issuing from it bounced merrily along the broken pavement, glinting in the sunshine as it made its way toward the street.

Casey looked down at her soaking foot and cursed before heading to the spigot on the near side of the building. She cranked it open and washed off her foot, shoe and all, before taking the shoe off and wiggling her toes under the cold water. The clients waiting patiently in the front craned their necks and watched politely. No one said a word when she rounded the corner and let herself in to the reception area. Along the one big window that remained sat five women in the folding lawn chairs used to stage the prospective clients before they were seen by a lawyer.

In the chair closest to Stacy's counter sat Maria Delgado. She stood when she saw Casey and clasped her hands together, muttering a prayer.

"I had no idea it got into your office," Stacy said, touching Casey's arm. "The whole place smells like shit, so I had no idea. They should be here any minute to get things pumped out. It's just the bathroom and the file room in the back. And your office. Everything else is okay, except the smell. We opened all the windows we could, so it's hot. I kept the air on, too, and I told them outside not to smoke."

"Smoke?"

"The gasoline floating on the surface," Stacy said, "so it doesn't explode."

"Nice," Casey said. She looked from Stacy to Maria and back to Stacy. "Can you just get me a legal pad and a pen? I'll use the conference room. Is Tina here?"

"I sent her to get some rubber boots so we can get files," Stacy said, "but you won't need her for now. Maria speaks English."

Casey extended her hand to Maria, whose red and swollen eyes moistened anew. Casey felt the weight of the burger in her stomach like a stone as the trembling woman clutched her hand and began to thank her repeatedly before she'd even done anything.

"Let's go in here and talk," Casey said softly as she accepted the supplies from Stacy.

They passed the open door to Donna's office. Donna sat behind her desk, pinching her nose and interviewing an elderly woman. Casey removed her hand from her own face when she got inside their conference room. Casey offered Maria a chair and sat down opposite her, trying to resist the temptation to plug her nose.

When Casey finally persuaded Maria to stop thanking her, Maria said, "My sister is in jail. They took her baby. Her husband was killed."

"Okay," Casey said. "Settle down. Relax. Who put your sister in jail? Was she arrested?"

"ICE agents," Maria said. "For a week, she was in the jail. Finally they let her call me and she tells me it's tomorrow they take her to the judge. How can this be?"

"All right, wait," Casey said, jotting notes. "Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents arrested her and put her into what jail?"

"Right here," Maria said. "The county. I went to her. I saw her."

"You said she has a baby. Where is the baby?"

"Paquita, she is in a foster home. They took her."

"Maria," Casey said, setting her pen down and leaning toward the young woman, "your sister has to have more going on than just being undocumented. Is she involved with drugs?"

"Never," Maria said, shaking her head violently. "Isodora is a good girl. Always good."

"Because ICE doesn't do things like that unless there's something going on," Casey said. "You said the husband was killed. What happened? Was he involved in something? Drugs or rebels or something?"

"He was a good man," Maria said. "Good like her. They said it was an accident, but my sister and her husband, they are not citizens. They have no green cards and then Ellie was killed, and now people know about them."

"What accident? Why would they make her leave?"

"Ms. Jordan," Maria said, her eyes filling now, "this man is very important. I am so scared."

Casey reached across the table and took her hands and said, "Tell me what happened, Maria. I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Elijandro would go sometimes with the wife of the boss," Maria said, "but he never did nothing."

"So, he had, I mean, it looked like he was involved with his boss's wife?" Casey said, forgetting now about the smell and the heat pressing in on them.

"She would come for him at night sometimes," Maria said. "Not like that. The wife, she didn't speak Spanish and she needed Ellie to do that for her. My sister, she said she knew Ellie didn't do nothing else."

Maria shrugged and her eyes darted into her lap.

"What was the accident?" Casey asked.

Maria sighed heavily and said, "Ellie was a hunter, the best. He would take people from the ranch, guests, important people. I have seen these pictures of Ellie with them. My sister, she woke up and Ellie was gone. He left a note that he was with the husband to hunt. When the policeman came, he told her there was an accident, that Ellie was dead."

Casey began to write again.

"My sister didn't believe it," Maria said. "She wouldn't believe it. Then the ICE people, they came and took Paquita and they put Isodora in the jail."

"But why would they do that just because the husband was killed in a hunting accident?" Casey asked.

"Because people know about them now," Maria said. "And my sister is illegal. It is all on TV. Did you not see it?"

Casey looked at her blankly.

"On CNN," Maria said. "On Channel Six. Everywhere."

"There was a hunting accident a week ago," Casey said, her nostrils flaring and delivering a sudden blast of the stench, "out at Lucky Star Ranch, but that's not what you're talking about."

"Yes, it is," Maria said, wringing her hands, "this is my sister's husband."

"But," Casey said, "that's Senator Chase."

"Yes, the senator," Maria said. "This is why we are very afraid. They said it was an accident, but it was the senator who killed Elijandro."