Above The Law

CHAPTER 10

THE FEMALE SERGEANT ON DUTY AT THE JAIL KEPT ON WRITING. She said visiting hours, even for attorneys, didn't begin until after lunch, but she looked up when Casey said her name.

"Not The Casey Jordan Story Casey Jordan, are you?"

Casey's cheeks burned. She averted her eyes and nodded.

"Oh my God," the sergeant said. "My mother and I taped that show. We watched it three times. You look so much younger than I thought you would."

The sergeant stood up and extended her beefy hand. "I am so honored."

"Thank you," Casey said, taking her hand and eyeing the name tag on her uniform, "Belinda. Do you think you could help me see Isodora a little early? I've got a million things I'm trying to get done."

The sergeant's face bloomed with a knowing smile. "I can still see Susan Lucci's face when she says, 'A woman like me can't rest when another woman is in need.' And here you are. I can't even believe it."

She picked up the phone and barked a couple of orders, regained her smile, and escorted Casey down a long hallway to a small interview room.

"Would you mind signing this?" the sergeant asked. "I swear, I never ask for autographs, but, well, my mother won't even believe me."

Casey felt her entire face go up in flames. "Sure."

The sergeant had a pad of paper and she held it out to Casey with a pen, her round cheeks red and nearly glistening. Casey asked the mother's name and signed the paper with best wishes before handing it back.

"Oh, this is perfect," the sergeant said. "Thank you so much."

"My pleasure," Casey said.

"You must get this all the time."

"Not really, but it's my pleasure."

"Well, I've got to get back to the desk," the sergeant said, stealing an appreciative glance at the autograph, "but she'll be right in."

Casey sat down and pinched the bridge of her nose. After only a couple of minutes the door opened.

The guard who escorted the bedraggled Isodora into the interview room shot Casey a dirty look from under a cap of short dark hair. The dough of her pasty white face bore permanent lines of displeasure. She pointed Isodora toward the metal chair with her scarred baton.

"Sit down," she said, and Isodora did.

Casey held the guard's gaze until the big woman stroked her shadow of a mustache, grunted, and told them they had ten minutes and that was it.

"We're not supposed to be pulling them out of meals," the guard said, continuing to glare at Casey.

"You were so kind to do it, though," Casey said.

The guard slammed the door on her way out.

Casey breathed in. The small square room smelled like a dirty mop tinged with the sour scent of vomit. Above them, the fluorescent tube flickered like a coming storm. Casey turned her attention to Isodora, her bony frame swallowed up by the orange prison jumpsuit. Behind the disheveled curtain of long dark hair hid the petite and pretty tearstained face of a woman who looked too young and too meek to be sitting in a jail.

"It's all right," Casey said, reaching across the battered table for Isodora's hand.

Isodora flinched.

"Maria sent me," Casey said. "I'm Casey Jordan."

Her red-rimmed eyes darted up through the tangle of hair and her hand relaxed under Casey's touch.

"I'm going to try to get your baby for you," Casey said with a squeeze. "Did anyone talk to you about Hutto?"

Hutto, the detention facility the Department of Homeland Security used for undocumented alien families, was a former prison run by a private company. The old fortress had generated some negative publicity, but it was still the best option for undocumented aliens with children because it allowed them to spend much of their days together.

"What's her name?" Casey said. "Your little girl?"

Isodora sucked in her lower lip and nodded tightly. Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. "Paquita," she said in a whisper, her entire frame trembling.

"That's a pretty name," Casey said. "Let's work on this. Now you have to tell me everything, Isodora. I'm your lawyer, and that means no matter what you did, I'm going to help you.

"Did you ever have a granny? An abuelita? That's what I'm like. Anything you did is okay with me, but I need to know. Now, did you do something wrong?"

Isodora's face crumpled and a sob escaped her.

"I did nothing," she said, gasping out the words between great gulps of air. "They took Paquita. Elijandro is dead. I don't care where I go. Just make them give her back to me, Miss Casey. Please."

Casey swallowed and squeezed her hand again.

"You're sure there's nothing?" she asked softly. "Drugs? Bad people your husband was with? Because I can't figure out why this is happening."

"They said I'm illegal," Isodora said, still sobbing. "Undocumented."

"Okay," Casey said gently, "but there's something more. Maybe it's a mistake. It's a big government."

Gently, Casey presented a slew of possibilities-drugs, weapons, smuggling people, and bad politics-but at every suggestion Isodora swore both she and her husband had done nothing wrong. Several times she excitedly broke into Spanish and Casey had to ask her to say it again.

Finally Casey asked, "What about the senator's wife, Isodora?"

Even through the curtain of hair, Casey could see the young woman's face redden.

She shook her head and said, "No, no. He did nothing with her. He was a good husband. A good man."

"But he went with her sometimes?" Casey asked. "At night? Your sister told me."

"She had a problem and Ellie, he was such a good man. She needed him to speak Spanish. What was he to say? She was the wife. We had our own house."

Isodora parted her hair and looked hard at Casey, setting her jaw. "I will tell you this. I know he did nothing. He, Elijandro, he would have this-how do you say-hives, this rash. Big red dots."

Isodora rubbed her chest. "Here he had them. When he was with me, he would have this. Always. Before we married, I used to tease him and call them diablo se mancha, devil spots. And when he came back after the first time he went with her, I made him show me and he didn't have it. So, you see?"

Casey nodded and said, "I see why you believed him. I'm just trying to find the reason why Senator Chase would have done this."

Isodora bit her lip and nodded, as if holding back tears.

"Maybe he thought like you," Isodora said in a whisper.

At the sound of the guard rattling the door, Casey stood up.

"All right," she said. "I'll do everything I can. I should at least be able to get you to a place where you can be with Paquita."

The guard stood frowning behind the young girl and nudged Isodora's ribs with the baton, telling her to get moving.

Casey rounded the table and pushed her face so close to the guard's that she could smell the cigarettes on the hefty woman's breath.

"You touch her with that thing again," Casey said in a low growl. "You so much as wave it at her and I'll have you bounced so far out of this place you'll think you were riding a rocket."

The guard snickered and said, "Yeah, I heard all about it. A woman like you can't rest when another woman is in need. Lady, why don't you go get some sleep."

Casey opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out and she could only watch Isodora being led away.

Instead of lodging a complaint with the sergeant, Casey simply asked when Isodora would be delivered to the courthouse for her appearance on Monday.