Pipeline (24 page)

"Did
you meet Camarena?" I asked.

"Yeah,
at the plant, but just for a few minutes. He checked our teeth and papers,
asked a couple of dumbass questions and trotted us off to work. Jesus, even
cops don't work hours like that. And good pay, now there's a joke. Hell, I
couldn't make the payments on my Camaro with what they were payin'."

"What
else did you find out?" Pauli asked.

"I
talked to as many people as I could in two days, Pauli. Close as I can figure
out from what the other workers told me, Lopez is a real busy boy. Makes a trip
to the border a couple of times a week, and his ain't the only truck. Over a
few beers they told me some of the trucks are bigger and go farther
north."

"From
your truck alone, they took in around sixty-five hundred. Do they always bring
in eight?" I asked.

"Stick
in more'n that and there wouldn't be room to breathe. I was pretty squashed as
it was."

I
doodled around with a few figures on a piece of paper.

"That's
over half a million a year just from one truck," I said.

"Okay,
Artie, go home and take a hot shower," Pauli said. "You stink."

"Shit!
You mean my vacation is over?" Reyna said.

"Looks
like. You think any of the workers at ABP would testify if someone pressed
charges against Lopez or Camarena?"

"I
doubt it, but there might be some in Mexico who would. Lots of guys runnin'
around down there without all their fingers because of the work they did. Once
they got hurt, the company didn't keep them on, and some of them are a little
pissed about it."

"I'll
call you later if we need their names," Pauli said, getting up.
"Enjoy the rest of your vacation." When Pauli and I were alone, he
asked, "Got enough now?"

"Pretty
close. There still isn't any proof that Camarena knew your friend there might
have been an illegal. He looked at fake papers, which he could have believed
were the real thing."

"Yeah,
I guess it is kinda normal to hire workers outta the back of a lettuce truck.
Come on, Jo! You got it all on film. Camarena was waitin' for them."

"I
know it, and you know it, but will a jury see it?"

"Well,
I think they might be a tad suspicious."

"You
tell me, Pauli. If you took what we've got right now to the DA, would he go to
the grand jury?"

"Probably
not."

"Maybe
it's just Lopez and Escobar who're involved."

"Look
at Lena's notes, Jo. Camarena's name is all over them. If Artie stayed longer
at ABP, I'm sure he would've found something on Camarena, too."

"No,
he's done enough. Why didn't you tell me you sent someone in there?"

"Because
if someone had snagged you and beat the shit out of you like they did your
housekeeper, I didn't want Artie compromised. You couldn't tell what you didn't
know."

"Won't
they miss Reyna now?"

"There's
a thousand more out there ready to take his place. Besides, it ain't like
they'd expect him to give two weeks notice."

"Where'd
he get the eight hundred?"

"I
gave it to him. But don't worry, I won't charge you any interest."

IT
WAS ALREADY dark by the time we picked up dinner and pulled into Pauli's
driveway. As his headlights swept over the front of the house, I thought I saw
someone in the shadows next to his front door. I turned to look at Pauli and
before I could say anything, he said, "I saw him."

The
garage door opened, and we pulled in. Pauli threw the car into park, pulling
his gun as he exited the car. The garage door was halfway down when he ducked
under it. I jumped out of the car and went through the kitchen toward the front
door. As I opened the door, I saw Pauli holding a man against the side of the
house, his gun under the man's chin.

"Flip
on the light, Jo!" Pauli yelled.

As
soon as the light came on, Pauli loosened his grip on the man and reholstered
his pistol.

"That's
a good way to get yourself killed, kid," he said as he turned to come up
the steps of the house.

I
looked over the edge of the porch and saw Kyle leaning against the brick wall.

"What
the hell are you doing here? You're supposed to be with Sarita."

He
pushed away from the wall and came to the foot of the steps. "Can I come
in?" he asked, rubbing his chin where Pauli had had his gun pressed.

I
didn't answer him but went back into the house, leaving the front door
partially open. Goddamn kids never do what the hell you tell them. I joined
Pauli in the kitchen as he spread food on the table. Kyle stood in the doorway
and watched us for a few minutes.

"Sit
down, kid," I finally said. "I'll split my burger with you."

He
sat down and took the food I handed him.

"How'd
you get back?" I asked.

"Flew
in and took a cab from the airport."

"I
hope you had the brains to leave Sarita with her folks."

"She's
going to stay there until this is over. We both thought I should come
back."

"You're
both wrong," I said, shaking my head.

"It's
my story. If I don't put it to bed, Sarita and I will never feel safe again. I
don't want her spending all her time looking over her shoulder."

"Might
be doin' that anyway," Pauli interjected. "You put Escobar and Lopez
away, the rest of their friends might still come lookin' for you."

"We're
leaving San Antonio as soon as the story breaks. We've been planning it for a
while, but this kind of cinched it for us."

"Giving
up journalism?" I asked.

He
shook his head as he chewed. "Been offered a job with the Denver
Post."

"Nice
state," I said with a smile. "Took your mother up there once. She
didn't enjoy it nearly as much as I did."

"Was
that when the groundhog got her?" Kyle asked as he chewed his burger.

"She
told you about that?" I asked, more than a little surprised.

"I
overheard her telling the story to someone else."

"What's
the groundhog story?" Pauli said through a mouthful of food.

"Oh,
I dragged Cate on a camping expedition to Colorado. You know, a little fishing,
a little relaxation, a little tent. She only went along because I wanted to go.
It was colder than a well digger's ass at night, and the last night we were
there it was colder than usual. Anyway, one thing led to another in the
sleeping bag when, right in the middle of all that passion, we were rudely
interrupted at an inopportune moment by a damn groundhog looking for fresh air.
Poked Cate right in the back. She screamed, and needless to say, we kinda lost
the moment. Never got her to go camping again."

Pauli
started laughing and I smiled at the memory. When I looked at Kyle, he was
smiling, too.

"You
want me to catch you up on what we've got so far?" I asked Kyle.
"We've come to an impasse. Maybe you can come up with a fresh idea."

We
sat down on Pauli's couch, and I took him through everything we had gathered,
one piece of paper at a time, even the possible connection between Susan,
Camarena, and McCaffrey. He didn't say much as I explained what we thought was
going on, only nodding occasionally. When we were finished, he rested his
elbows on his knees and looked at me.

"I
didn't see much evidence that would involve Camarena with the illegals,"
he said.

"It's
our weakest point, but I don't know what else we can do."

"You
sure can't ask Susan. If she was involved in the McCaffrey thing, she'd cover
for Camarena to save her own ass anyway. If we could sneak a peek at her files
on ABP, we might be able to find out whether the company was actually paying to
have the illegals brought in."

I
opened another file folder and handed it to him. He glanced over the pages
quickly.

"How'd
you get these?" he asked.

"Don't
ask."

"What
about these 'Miscellaneous Expenditures'? Any idea what they are?"

"Nope.
I gave them to an accountant friend of mine in Kerrville, but he told me what I
already knew. Could be anything."

"So
if the company was paying someone to bring illegals in, it could be covered
under miscellaneous."

"That
would be my guess. Unfortunately, it would take a court order to dredge up all
the files on ABP."

"Maybe
it's one of those implied things. You know, like Reagan and the Contras. Not a
direct order, just a heavy-duty suggestion."

"The
company says it wishes it had more workers and is willing to pay a bonus to
anyone who can provide them," I pondered aloud.

"Then
Camarena sees the chance to make some bucks from both ends of the pipeline. The
company pays him for finding workers, and the workers pay him for finding them
jobs. All he had to do was find someone to actually bring them in," Kyle
continued.

"So
he turns to his cousin, Escobar, and they set up the pipeline."

"Makes
sense to me, but the paper trail would be a bitch to follow."

"I
got a load of illegals on film a couple of days ago. I haven't developed the
film yet, but it covers the line from San Antonio to Mountain View."

"Can
you develop them here?"

I
shook my head. "I've got a darkroom at the ranch, but nothing here."

"Then
let's go to the ranch."

"Not
safe. After I showed my hand with Camarena, someone might be watching the
house."

"What
about the darkroom at the Light? The building's open all night."

Two
hours later, Kyle and Pauli waited while I processed the pictures. After
placing the prints in the dryer, I joined them in the newsroom.

"You
got 'em?" Pauli asked.

"They're
in the dryer. Be about another ten minutes."

Kyle
went into the darkroom, and I sat down in a chair next to Pauli.

"What're
you gonna do with all this shit now?" he asked.

"Let
Kyle write his story and turn everything over to INS, the DA, and whoever the
hell else wants it, I guess."

"The
DA won't want the story released until he has time to round up a few
people."

"It'll
take a day or so to write it up properly. Once it's edited and fact-checked,
they can break the story any time. By then there shouldn't be any reason to
target anyone. The whole world will know what's going on."

Kyle
came out of the darkroom carrying a stack of pictures.

"That
all of them?" I asked.

"Yeah.
Who's this guy?"

I
took the picture, and he pointed out Lopez standing behind his truck at the
Produce Terminal. Pauli leaned over to look and recognized Lopez before I did.

"Ernesto
Lopez," Pauli said. "One of Escobar's flunkies."

"He
was one of the men who attacked Sarita," Kyle said flatly.

"You
sure?" I asked.

"I'm
not likely to forget any of them. They didn't try to hide their faces. But this
guy Lopez, he really enjoyed what he was doing."

"Did
he seem to be in charge, or did he take orders from one of the others?"
Pauli asked.

"He
wasn't in charge. One of the men was older. He seemed to be in control, but he
had a hard time with this one."

"Can
you describe the older man?" Pauli continued.

"Maybe
mid to late forties, graying black hair, mustache," Kyle said.

"Could
be half the spies in San Antonio," Pauli said.

"Guess
I'm not as sure about the other three, but I really watched this Lopez. He didn't
want to stop when the older guy told him to. He was ready to rape her."

"Sounds
like what Reyna said about him," I said to Pauli.

Kyle
closed his eyes and kept talking. "They argued about it in Spanish. Sarita
was crying. The other two were holding her down on the floor, and Lopez kept
looking at her and arguing with the older man. He called him something. Sounded
like Ricky or Rico. Something like that."

"Frederico
Escobar," Pauli said with a smile.

"But
you called him Freddie," I said.

"Just
because he hates being called Freddie," Pauli answered. He looked at Kyle.
"If you saw a picture of this older man, think you could ID him?"

"Absolutely."

Pauli
stopped at the police department long enough to appropriate a picture of
Escobar. Without the slightest hesitation, Kyle picked him from a group of ten
mug shots that Pauli handed him. We might never get Camarena, but we had Lopez
and Escobar by the balls. We celebrated over enchiladas and Coronas before
driving to Pauli's again.

Chapter
Twenty-Four