Dead Wrong

“No,” Joa

The officer left, and Joa

At the stroke of three, all work stopped. As block layers began gathering and cleaning tools and equipment and putting them away, Joa

“I just turned off 1-10 onto Kino,” he said. “It’ll take me another fifteen minutes to reach your location.”

“Hurry,” she urged. “Otherwise they’ll all be gone by the time you get here.”

“I understood from Dispatch that someone from Tucson PD was there with you.”

“He was here, but he had to leave,” Joa

“Just follow them, then,” Frank advised. “Let me know where they end up, and I’ll go there.”

Unwilling to risk losing track of the pickup in afternoon traffic, Joa

“I’m going to go talk to him,” Joa

“Wait a minute, Joa

“What do you think?” she returned, and then she hung up.

The truth was, she wasn’t wearing a vest-hadn’t worn one in weeks because the one she owned no longer fastened around her bulging belly. But these were the guys who had saved Jean-nine’s life, right? Surely they wouldn’t hurt her.

A middle-aged Hispanic man was approaching the pickup with his car key extended when Joa

“Mr. Trujillo,” she called. “Could I speak to you for a minute?”

He turned to look at her. Two younger men, presumably his passengers, had been walking in the direction of the LUV as well. They stopped and melted back into the construction site. Joa

“What do you want?” he asked.

Hearing his heavily accented but perfect English, Joa

“The woman you took to the hospital this morning works for me,” Joa

The man’s expression softened slightly. “She is still alive then?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“And she will live?”

“The doctors don’t know, but she wouldn’t have even a chance at living if it hadn’t been for you.”

“I’m glad,” he said, inserting his key in the lock. “I’ll be going then.”

“No,” Joa

Ephrain Trujillo looked at her and didn’t answer, but his silence spoke volumes. He didn’t trust her, and Joa

“I don’t work for the Border Patrol or INS,” Joa

“Are you placing me under arrest?”

“No,” Joa

Ephrain sighed. “What do you wish to know?”

“Where did you find her?” Joa

Shaking his head, Ephrain walked to a stack of unused blocks and sat down on it. Joa

“Thank you,” she said.

He nodded and went on. “My wife’s nephew and two of his friends came across the border near Naco the night before last and made it to our home in Douglas. My wife was worried about them being there. She called and asked me to go down and get them. Her nephew had a job that was promised to him on a farm up near San Simon, and I thought that, with this big job to do here in Tucson, my boss would maybe hire his friends. So I went down to Douglas after work yesterday afternoon to pick them up.”

“You’re saying there were three of them, not just two?”

“That’s right. It was already late when we left Douglas, and the trip here took a long time. We had to come up the back way, through McNeal, because there’s a big Border Patrol checkpoint between Douglas and Elfrida. The place where my nephew was going is a long way north of San Simon on a dirt road. As we were driving there, I came around a curve and saw a truck parked along the road. I saw the light rack on top and was sure it was Border Patrol and that we would be stopped. But then, when we got closer, I saw all the little dog doors on the side. So I knew it wasn’t Border Patrol after all.”

“The truck was just parked along the road? Where?”

“A couple of miles north of San Simon.”

“Did you see anyone in it or around it?”

“The engine was ru

“What time was that?” Joa

“One o’clock or so. Maybe later.”

“And then?”

“We drove on up the road and dropped my nephew off. Then we turned around and came back. It’s a long way and the road is very rough, so it took an hour or so. But when we got close enough to see where the truck had been parked, there were lights there-lots of them.”

“What kind of lights?”

“Car lights. Headlights. I wanted to know what was going on, but I didn’t want them to see us. I shut off my headlights and drove for a while by moonlight. Then, when I was afraid they might hear the engine, I got out of the truck and walked closer.”

“By yourself, or did the others walk with you?”

“I have my green card,” Ephrain answered. “The others don’t. I told them to wait in the truck. I walked close enough until I could hear her. She was screaming, begging for them to stop. They were laughing and shouting. ”Kick her again,“ one of them said. ”Kick her again.“ And they did,” he added. “Once you have heard that sound-the sound of someone being kicked in the belly or the ribs-or once you’ve felt it, you don’t forget.”