Read A Basket of Trouble Online

Authors: Beth Groundwater

Tags: #Mystery, #a river ranger. When a whitewater rafting accident occurs, #it was poison. Tom King was a rich land developer with bitter business rivals, #The Arkansas River is the heart and soul of Salida, #including her beloved Uncle Bill—the respected owner of an outfitting business, #and infuriated environmentalists.Mandy cooperates with the local sheriff's department to solve the murder. But little does she know how greatly the case will affect those she loves, #who cheated on his wife, #refused to support his kayak-obsessed son, #but a man dies anyway. But it wasn't the river rapids that killed him, #Colorado. It fuels the small town's economy and thrums in the blood of twenty-seven-year-old Mandy Tanner, #she deftly executes a rescue, #out of whose raft Tom King fell. She goes on an emotionally turbulent quest for the truth—and ends up in dangerous waters.

A Basket of Trouble (23 page)

BOOK: A Basket of Trouble
7.73Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“I didn’t tell you until now because I knew you’d ask for three

days if ICE came to see your records. I thought you could figure

out what to do about Pedro in that amount of time.” She clutched

Charley’s arm. “He’s supporting his mother and sisters with what

he makes here. I wanted to give him a chance to earn as much

money as possible before you had to fire him.”

Stopping in the open entrance to the barn, Charley turned to

her. “We could have avoided all of this if you told me. I’m going to 189

have to let Pedro go now. If he’s still an employee when ICE comes back, I’ll be fined. And they’ll arrest him and deport him.”

Claire rubbed her throbbing head. “I was trying to do the right

thing, but I just seemed to make things worse. Again, I’m really

so rry.”

Charley exhaled loudly. “At least with three days notice, maybe

Pedro can make some kind of plans. I hate to do that to him, but I don’t have any choice now that ICE is here.”

At that moment, Pedro came out of a nearby stall pushing a

wheelbarrow full of soiled hay. He stared in shock at Charley, then dropped the handles. The wheelbarrow tipped over, spilling its

contents.

“ICE,” he hissed, his eyes wide in alarm. He bolted out of the

barn.

“Wait,” Charley yelled. “Don’t go. You’re safe here!”

He started to go after Pedro, but he lost ground fast. Pedro’s

legs were pumping wildly, propelling him around the fenced-in

pasture. He headed toward the hill at the back of Charley’s prop-

erty that separated it from the Blair Bridge Open Space.

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 awhile. But if ICE catches him now, they can deport him immediately.”

190

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 uncon-

trolled movements.

Claire and Charley watched the desperate chase in tense si-

lence. 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 un-

hurried, 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 of-

ficer was pushing Pedro ahead of him. Pedro’s hands were hand-

191

cuffed 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 re-

quest 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 en-

force 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?”

192

“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 Eng-

lish 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, en-ergized 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.”



.” 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 to-

ward 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

193

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, espe-

cially 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.”

194

“Pay him?” Jessica asked.

Claire explained the smuggling fee to her while Wilson con-

tinued 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. “

, he can.”

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

passe.

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 be-

fore 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.

195

“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 to-

ward 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.”

196

“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 ex-pired 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

197

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 al-

BOOK: A Basket of Trouble
7.73Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Duke Of Uranium by John Barnes
Gangbang With The Beasts by Bree Bellucci
Indestructible Desire by Danielle Jamie
Trinity Blue by Eve Silver
Who I Am by Melody Carlson
Wolf Line by Vivian Arend
Theirs by Hazel Gower
Hot to Touch (Kimani Romance) by Terry, Kimberly Kaye
Coin-Operated Machines by Spencer, Alan