"Give me her name and I'll see what I can do," Case said.
She thanked him and gave him her cell phone number, asking for whoever worked on it to call her the minute they worked through the mistake.
It was four when she realized she hadn't heard from Norman Case or anyone in his office. She ushered a pregnant young woman out of her office and scooped up the phone. This time Case's secretary was short with her. She sounded offended and said that the DHS lawyer was unavailable and that all she could do was take a message.
"He's there?"
"Yes, but he's in a meeting," the secretary said.
"Will he call me when he's done?"
"Ms. Jordan, he told me to take a message. After that, you're on your own."
"Look, just help me here. Can you just ask him if he was able to straighten out Isodora's identity? Can you please do that?"
"Do you use that trick all the time?" the secretary asked.
"What trick?"
"About the poor mother and her kid and your do-good clinic."
"What trick?"
"You play me and I make a fool out of myself to my boss, telling him you're all this and all that. Fool me once, shame on you. You won't fool me twice."
"I didn't say anything that wasn't true."
"They pay in cash, right?" the secretary said. "These drug dealers?"
Casey snorted and half-laughed. "What are you talking about?"
"You'll have to talk to Mr. Case."
"Please," Casey said. "I really don't know what you're talking about."
"Your client?" the secretary said. "They got the right person. She and her husband? Organized crime. A big gang, one of the biggest. Murder. Extortion. Drugs."
"It's a mistake," Casey said.
"You're the mistake," the secretary said.
CHAPTER 13
TEUCH DREAMED OF A JAILHOUSE HAIRCUT. THE CLAMMY plastic cape tight on his neck. His hands pinned down on the armrests of the chair, weighted in concrete. And the buzzing as the hundred tiny blades snickered across his scalp. Tufts of dry black hair falling like fat snowflakes, sliding down the front of his face, depositing themselves in his open mouth. A mouth dry as desert dust and buzzing.
In the dream, he saw his sister-in-law, Isodora, as a child, pushing through the line of prisoners in a blaze orange jumpsuit of her own. He felt shame when her dark eyes found his. Her face crumpled and she began to shriek.
The sound woke Teuch and he saw a real child in a kid's rugby shirt, his face crumpled like Isodora's in the dream, and in his hand the pelt of a small butchered animal. Teuch moved his dry mouth. No sound came from it, but the movement sent a cloud of buzzing flies up from his face. As in the dream, his arms would not move, nor his legs, nor any part of him except the swollen silent lips. Still, he could listen from his bed in the deep brown weeds.
"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" The child stood frozen in terror, the pelt gripped tight, black hair woven through his fingers.
"Finish your business and get back here," a voice said. "If it's a bug, walk away. You want bologna or peanut butter?"
The father appeared, glasses fogging from the heat, plastic-wrapped sandwich in hand, mouth agog.
"Put that down!" he said, pointing at the bloody pelt. "Goddamn it!"
The boy's face spilled tears. The father reached for the pelt.
"What the hell?" he said, snatching the pelt and throwing it to the ground before he saw Teuch and the flies. "Oh my God."
The man and the boy disappeared and even though the flies returned, tickling Teuch's face, licking and feeding in the corners of his eyes and nose, he drifted back into another dream until something woke him suddenly. The man had come back without the boy, but with a cop who kicked at Teuch's foot. A dirty white cop. The long mustache on his face hid in the shadow of a tall felt hat.
"Jesus," the cop said, parting the weeds and kneeling down beside Teuch to touch his neck. "This man's alive."
CHAPTER 14
GET MARIA DELGADO IN HERE," CASEY SAID TO STACY, BANGING open the door between her office and where Stacy sat.
"What got under your skin?" Stacy asked.
"I just made an ass out of myself," she said.
Stacy raised her eyebrows.
"You said I had to see her? That I shouldn't be worrying about a lunch?" Casey said. "I could lose my lunch when I think of her sniveling face. Crocodile tears. Do you know the sister and her husband are gangbangers? Drugs. Murder. All of it. That's why they want her out."
"Oh, right," Stacy said, picking up the phone and dialing. "Our government couldn't be the ones making the mistake. Not the gang who gave us Iraq."
"Don't get political," Casey said.
"Maria?" Stacy said into the phone. "It's Stacy Berg. Can you come down to the clinic?"
Stacy looked at Casey from under half-lidded eyes.
"Yes, I know it's Friday afternoon," Stacy said into the phone. "I'm afraid it's very important. Right away. Yes. Good."
Stacy slammed the phone down and took out a nail file that she began to work at with great concentration.
Casey worked up her witness list for Rosalita's case while she waited for Maria. She didn't want the woman to get off easy over the phone. She wanted Maria to feel her rage. Half an hour later Stacy knocked once, threw open the door, and announced Maria. Casey pointed to a chair and didn't let her even settle in before she began.
"You didn't tell me about your brother-in-law, the gangbanger," Casey said.
"My brother-in-law?" Maria said, touching her chest. "Elijandro? Ellie is a laborer and a hunting guide."
"What else does he do?"
Maria shrugged and said, "He teaches Sunday school."
"Someone's in a gang," Casey said. "The Torres brothers? The Latin Kings?"
Maria's eyes widened and she said, "Ellie's brother."
"Who?"
"My sister's husband," Maria said. "His brother. Teuch is his name. Teuch Torres. He's a Latin King, but Ellie, he doesn't-didn't-even talk to him. Teuch is very bad."
"Yes, he is," Casey said. "Why didn't you tell me about him?"
"He lives in San Antonio. My sister met him only twice. Once at Paquita's baptism, then right after that for the last time. I was there. Ellie took us down to Christmas dinner at his mother's. She is a housekeeper there. Teuch and Ellie got into a fight. They have no business together at all. Nada. They don't even speak."
"Well," Casey said, lowering her voice, "ICE made the connection. I'll do my best, look for some kind of precedent. I'm sorry I was a little rough. I just felt ridiculous."
"I never thought about Teuch," Maria said. "He's so far away and they have nothing to do with him. There are many people with the name Torres. I don't know how they would find him and put him with Elijandro. I am worried that they would do this."
"I'm worried, too," Casey said.
Casey worked alone and didn't realize how late it was until her stomach growled and she looked at her watch. Stacy and Donna had gone on a double date with their new boyfriends, one a guy who owned a shoe factory and the other a financial planner. They'd been talking about it for over a week, so Casey encouraged them to leave while she prepared for Isodora's hearing on Monday by herself. Sharon never stayed late, especially on Friday. She had two kids at home and a husband who expected dinner on the table at six.
Casey closed the book in front of her with a clump and rubbed her eyes. The room had grown dark around her but for the glow of the computer screen and the small lamp on her desk. Outside she heard the crunch of tires on the broken pavement and she sat up straight. Jose's warning about Domingo Mondo jumped to mind. The wife, Soledad, had been whipped across her backside regularly with an electric cord.
Casey heard a car door slam and she reached for the desk drawer by her knee. She opened it, removing the nickel-plated.38 Jose had insisted she keep there. Comforted by the cold shape of the metal in her hand, she dug into her purse, searching for her cell phone. Feet scuffed across the parking lot and came to rest outside the metal door.