“There are many good people within the State Police who can help. That’s not going to be a problem.”
“Really?”
Sara realizes she sounds incredulous when she hears a quiet laugh. “Believe it or not, there are lots of people in Mexico who are trying very hard to fight crime. It’s an uphill battle against people with incredible resources of power and money, but they hang in there, doing what they can, like you.”
“So you know someone?”
“Yes. But, Sara, let’s think this through for a few minutes. The man in the picture, Leopoldo Hinojosa, he’s powerful. Really powerful. He commands the Public Security and Crime Prevention Unit, one of the most important divisions of the State Police in Chihuahua. But it’s his association with whoever is keeping the girls that makes him so … dangerous. It’s not just him, it’s the web of criminality he’s a part of.”
“You knew there were places where they took girls?”
“We suspected some of the kidnapped girls were being kept alive as sex slaves or sold to sex traffickers. You know that the bodies of most kidnapped girls show up sooner or later in fairly public places—almost as if the criminals want them to be found. So it didn’t make sense that certain girls were never found. And when you look at the girls who are still missing, it’s hard not to notice that they all fit a certain profile.”
“They’re all beautiful,” Sara says, remembering Linda.
“Yes. Slim, tall, long black hair, dark skin. So, I’m not going to lie to you, this lead you have is very substantial.”
“The way I picture it, there’s this place where girls like Erica and Linda are kept like prisoners,” Sara says. She swallows, thinking about it. “So Erica and Linda are with Hinojosa and another man. Hinojosa falls asleep, probably drunk, and the other guy goes to the bathroom. Linda grabs Hinojosa’s cell phone, takes a picture, and quickly forwards it to the first e-mail address she remembers that won’t track back to her family. She’s afraid the other guy will come out of the bathroom at any moment, so she only has time to put puchi on the subject line, so I’ll know it’s from her. Then Linda or Erica hide the cell phone somewhere, and later that day, they find a way to sneak it out with the help of the boy who works for the laundry service.”
“I agree that’s probably what happened. Well, if that’s Hinojosa’s phone, you can be sure that it contains a lot of names, telephone numbers, pictures, and all kinds of information that would hurt a lot of people if law enforcement had it. That’s why they did what they did to the Renterías.”
Sara doesn’t say anything.
Agent Durand continues, “I want to make sure, before you call me again with more information, you know what this will do to your life.” She knows what he’s going to say and part of her does not want him to say it. “I think that right now you are relatively safe. But once this horrible place is raided and any girls there are rescued, they’ll know that it was you or the Renterías who were responsible. I think they’ll rule out the Renterías because they’ll know it takes some technical savvy to find the place. So they’ll narrow it down to you, and maybe they’ll figure out that you had help from your friend in IT and the Jaqueros.”
“You know about the Jaqueros?”
“They’re one of our biggest and best sources of information. So, what I’m saying is that Hinojosa will do everything he can to protect himself. And if he’s threatened, he will stop at nothing.”
Sara is silent.
“Sara, are you still there?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sure my good friends in Mexico would love to go after a guy as important as Hinojosa. I just want to make sure you know what’s at stake here.”
She’s trying to process what exactly this all means. For her. For Mami and Emiliano. For their lives as they’re living them. “No one at El Sol knows where I live except Juana. I give everyone a post office box number. There’s no trace of our address in any public records. I changed it to a P.O. box ever since I got that threatening letter—you know, after the article I wrote on the joint task force.”
“I wish I could tell you that was enough to keep you safe. But I know the people we’re dealing with. They’re not human beings like the rest of us. I’m sorry.”
Sara looks up at the café’s ceiling fan going slowly around and around. She has no words, no response. Does she really have to give up her job? Will they need to leave their home? Where will they go? She feels like a small child who does not understand the overwhelming emotions she’s experiencing and all she can do is cry. So that’s what she does. “I’m sorry,” she says after a minute or so. She blows her nose on a napkin.
“No. Don’t apologize.” Agent Durand’s voice is kind. “Why don’t you think some more about all this? Wait for your IT friend to call you with the location, if he finds it. Go home, talk to your brother and your mother. Their lives will change too, after all. I’ll wait to hear from you.”
“But don’t we have to move fast … for Erica and Linda?”
“The only way Hinojosa’s people could have known all they know is if they got the information out of the girls. It’s likely that the worst already happened.”
She gasps when she realizes what he’s saying. “They were tortured? They’re not alive anymore?”
“I think you should assume the worst.”
Sara can’t speak. Erica and Linda would be alive if it wasn’t for her. The e-mail was sent to her. The envelope was addressed to her. If she had done something to discover the missing e-mail sooner. If she had gotten to work half an hour earlier yesterday and found the envelope. It suddenly seems as if there were hundreds of things she could have done but didn’t.
“Sara,” she hears Agent Durand say, “it’s not your fault. Do you hear me? I know that’s what you’re thinking. It’s not your fault. And it will be okay if you decide that you need to protect yourself and your family. I’ll work with the Mexican Attorney General’s Office. We’ll put Hinojosa under constant surveillance. Sooner or later he’ll take us to that place. We’ll take our time and work discreetly, so if we arrest him you won’t be implicated. Okay?”
“Okay,” Sara says. She’s too tired and confused to say anything else.
“If I don’t hear from you later today, that’s fine. We’ll go with that. Take care, Sara.”
“Thank you.” She taps the red circle on her phone to end the call.
Sara doesn’t know what to do next or where to go. The young woman who gave her the chamomile tea is wiping the table next to her. There is something very beautiful and soothing about the careful way she wipes the table. No one is in the café except the two of them, and Sara’s sure she isn’t being thorough just to impress her. It never ceases to amaze her how grateful poor people are for their jobs. Linda made six dollars a day in the shoe store where she worked. The young woman in front of her makes less than that. What if this young woman is kidnapped on the way home tonight and taken to that horrible place?