“Cai being arrested isn’t enough to look through it?”
Luis shook his head. “Not unless they could show he used the box to conceal evidence.”
“As in, he visited the box immediately after Iss’s death. That’ll take time, searches through security footage,” I explained at their blank looks. “Warrants aren’t all inclusive.”
Peter worried his bottom lip hard enough that I saw the imprint of his teeth. “This is stupid. Cai can just—”
“Don’t say anymore,” Desmond ordered, rising from his metal throne. Peter closed his mouth with a snap.
After that, the room stifled us all in an uncomfortable silence. Peter scraped at the tattoo on his hand. Darryl flicked his thumbnail against the back of his teeth. My father took in deep breaths and released them from his nose. Luis and I went about packing up evidence. My monotonous voice read item after item while my partner pencil check-marked the paperwork.
I was too busy trying to solve Peter’s problem to actually pay attention to what I was doing. Finding a solution was like trying to pinpoint the original design in a moving kaleidoscope.
Angelica and my father were going to encourage Cai to deny us access to the box. And Cai wasn’t going to take much convincing. He didn’t seem to want us in that box. Whatever was in there could link him to any number of crimes. It wouldn’t be much of a dilemma for Peter. He’d go to jail to protect Cai. It would be moot. We’d get into the box anyway. It would just take longer. Or maybe we wouldn’t. My father would side with Angelica in fighting a warrant on the box. She was a good lawyer. Either way, I couldn’t stop Luis from arresting Peter at this point, even if I begged.
“Item 43: Mexican Passport number…”
“Have you found all the people?” Darryl asked. Since I was off the case, and not entirely in the loop, I looked to Luis to answer. The rest followed suit.
He took the bag from me and checked off the list before adding it to the box. “Most of this group,” he nodded to the table. “Some of the others we tracked down were smuggled months and years ago. We haven’t had a chance to interview all of them. They all have forged passports and green cards, unlike these people,” he held up a passport.
Peter’s eyes were riveted to the evidence on the table. “Is that what Joe was doing? Forging green cards?”
“Joe and Alvarado, among others, near’s we can tell,” Luis said.
“So he wasn’t selling people?”
Luis was quiet, but all of us were staring at him expectantly. Except my father, who was taking notes on his legal pad. Fifteen-hundred dollars an hour, and he couldn’t afford a fucking laptop? “People were offered forged green cards for a hefty price,” Luis said. “They thought the money went to the cartels. If they couldn’t pay upfront, they smuggled in drugs and cash to pay part and went to work doing whatever Alvarado ordered to pay the rest. Unpaid labor for most of the men. Prostitution for most of the younger women and children.”
Darryl brought his knees to his chest and rested his chin on them, hugging his legs a little too tightly. “Why didn’t they just go back to Mexico or wherever?” He had more of the callous attitude I expected from a whore. He was jaded and flippant, but he cared more than he let on.
“If they thought the cartels were running the operation, back home was more dangerous than staying here. Cartels don’t give refunds for unsatisfied customers,” I said drily. Darryl lifted his lip in a sneer and went back to pressing his mouth into his knees. “Traffickers don’t explain the contracts, either. People don’t understand what kind of work they’re going to have to do to pay their way.”
When everything was tucked away, my partner loaded it all on a dolly and took it to the evidence room. I waited outside the door while Peter and Darryl met with my father.
I was leaning against the wall, head back and eyes closed, when the brush of a sleeve indicated someone’s presence next to me. I lifted a lid, spotted Dave and smiled. “Thought you’d hang the other day and watch a game with me later. Where’d you disappear to?”
“Called away,” Dave explained. He rubbed the back of his neck and mimicked my position, eyes closing. “How’s the case going?”
“Just caught a break. Looks like there’s another safety deposit box.” Before I could start tapping my nervous fingers and toes, I stuck my hands in my pants pockets and crossed my ankles. It didn’t help, but at least the tapping was muted.
“Sounds like a good lead.”
“Yeah.” Dave stared at the opposite wall. His leg jittered. The nervous energy so mirrored my feelings that I considered he had bad news for me. “You heard something from Del and Marco on the Alvarado murder?” I fished.