Before I got in my car, my phone rang.
“I should be angry at you.” It was Ed Garvey.
“Why should you be angry at me?”
“Because you sent me more free work to do for you, this time without asking. Sent it to my house, on my day off.” These were all points that made a strong case in his favor. They could have been delivered with force, like nails in my coffin. But they weren’t. They were just delivered evenly, without malice. Yet he wasn’t using my nickname, Liberty. So all was not entirely good between us.
“So then why aren’t you angry at me?”
“Because Samantha convinced me I should give you a lot of slack and be more charitable. You know how she always wanted me to become a volunteer for a good cause?” He didn’t wait for a response from me and plowed on ahead. “She says you are my volunteer project until you get back on your feet. So I’ve accepted my fate. I am at your service, Nathan Hale Parker.”
“Wow,” was all I could immediately muster. “Maybe I should have asked for this service from you before now.”
“Buddy, you don’t have the credentials she does.”
“Maybe so, but please thank her for the kindness.”
“Yeah, yeah. By the time this is all over, I’m going to own you. You will owe me really big time.” He paused for that to sink in. “So, down to business. You wanted this information as soon as it came in. Well, it just came in late last night.”
“OK,” I said in anticipation. “Give me what you’ve got.”
“Well, your Cortina Perez is Hispanic and a legal citizen of the US. She did it by the book. None of this illegal entry stuff. Like you said, she works two jobs. Pays her taxes. Has a bank account. Sends money home to Mexico. Has a license and a registered old car. Even has a credit card. She charges a few things to her card every month and pays the bill on time every month. A model citizen. You’ve got to hook me up with this girl. Sounds like someone who could support me in my old age.”
“Dream on, partner. Besides, I don’t think Samantha would approve.”
“Probably not.”
“Have there been any charges to her credit card in the past few days? Maybe for gas for the car?”
“Nope, no activity.”
“Any way to track if her car crossed into Mexico? Or if she stayed at another motel somewhere in the US?”
“Way ahead of you on the border crossing, Nathan. She hasn’t crossed the border into Mexico or Canada.”
I had not even thought of Canada since I was so focused on Mexico as a likely destination. “What about the motel angle?”
“All I can say, partner, is she didn’t use a credit card for a motel under the name Cortina Perez. That would have shown up. She may have used cash. She might have stayed with friends or relatives.”
I sighed with obvious disappointment. “Is there some way to check motels to see if she might have used cash?”
“No easy way to track it. You know that. Nathan, this is not an ongoing investigation. This is just a favor, remember?” Ed sounded a bit peeved with me.
I was pushing the bounds of even a required volunteer gig. Besides, I knew that would be his answer, but I had to try. “Sorry, Ed. You’re right. I’m grateful for whatever you can do. Can you just monitor the credit card a bit longer?” I begged.
“That I can do,” Ed replied. “Now, about your guy, the Hispanic car thief who went to jail. INS has no record of picking up anyone from Willow Run last fall. In fact, they have no record of visiting Willow Run, ever.”
“Could the paperwork just be screwed up?” I pleaded.
“My guy tells me paperwork might go missing. It can happen. But it’s not likely. Montana is not your hotbed of INS issues. So it’s not like they would have hundreds of illegals to process up there. They can probably fit all their illegal immigrant paperwork in a single file cabinet.”
I was feeling a bit cheated on useful information here.
Ed continued though. “But….”
“But what?” I jumped in, cutting him off just as he started to dangle a carrot.
“Let me finish. But Willow Run is probably one of those towns with only a couple of cops and maybe only a single cell in their jail. Am I right?” Ed asked.
I knew that single cell well. “That’s right, but what….”
It was his turn to cut me off. “Sooo, a prisoner might be transferred to another facility, say a county jail, which has more capacity and people to watch a prisoner overnight. Sooo, while there is no way an INS agent would have gone to tiny Willow Run on a moment’s notice to pick up a single illegal, your illegal might have been transferred to a county jail. Then at his convenience, the INS guy could go pick up your guy a couple days later, along with any others that had accumulated there over those days. Check with your local county mounty.”
I had encountered, as Ed called him, a local county mounty. He pulled me over for speeding. We didn’t have what you could call a relationship that would be conducive to asking about an illegal immigrant. But if he was indeed Allison’s brother, I might be able to work on that.
“Thanks, Ed. That gives me a place to look.”
I waited a beat expecting that Ed would mention the letter I sent requesting a fingerprint check. But he didn’t say anything, so I broached the subject.
“Ed, you mentioned that you got my letter.”
“That’s right. Tell me about this piece of paper. Why do you think it’s important enough to look for finger prints?”
I didn’t want to take him through the whole story. While the scenario all worked for me, to someone on the outside it would probably seem weak. So I embellished a bit. “This was lying on the ground near the body of the Hispanic. The local law had no interest in it, so I kept it.” Those statements were reasonably accurate, though clearly a stretch of the facts. I did find it somewhere in the vicinity of the body. Enid Powell probably looked at it when he searched my backpack and did not keep it. So I kept it, though only because I forgot to discard it.
I continued. “I think the guy was carrying it when he ran off the cliff and died. It’s a chance to identify him if his prints are on file somewhere.”
Ed was quiet for a few seconds, probably considering the likelihood this was going anywhere and then factoring the volunteer project his wife had prodded him into doing. He finally responded cheerily. “OK. I’ll see what I can find. In fact, the fingerprint check is already running.”
He could have easily told me that up front, not forcing me to drag it out of him. It was his way of informing me that there would be limits to what he was willing to do for me, regardless of what Samantha had made him promise. She might be sitting right there next to him so that he couldn’t come right out and say that I was reaching the limit of what he was willing to do. So he had to communicate that message in some other manner, such as forcing me to drag it out of him.
“Thanks. You’re the best.” Now came the kicker. “There is one more thing.”
I heard a heavy sigh and a slight groan. I was now past the limit of his generosity. Already he must be regretting this volunteer project pact he had been coerced into. He might not be willing to help me any further.
Faintly in the background I heard, “Ed? Is everything OK with Nathan?”
It was Samantha. She was nearby. She was my hope. I hated to put my old partner in such a position, but I really needed him to come through. It was unfortunate that his true motivation would be her pushing him. But that couldn’t be helped. I needed answers.
The next words were louder than Samantha’s but still distant, like Ed moved the phone away from his mouth to respond to her. “Yes, Sam. Nathan is fine.”
“Nathan, you are putting me in a difficult position. You do realize that I have a full time job already. Sneaking around to do your bidding is a bit awkward. You know, using department resources for unofficial investigations?”
He w
as laying the guilt trip on me, and it was working, to a point. Sure I asked for a lot. But I was certain the activity here warranted investigation. Maybe it wasn’t official, not in Cincinnati and unfortunately not even here in Montana, but I could not let it go. “You’re right. If I’m pushing you too much on this, I’m sorry. But I think this is important, and I could really use your help. I have no where else to turn.”
There was another long pause, and I felt compelled to fill the void. But he finally spoke. “OK. I’ll do what I can, but only because Samantha is glaring at me.” After a beat, he continued. “So what do you need now?”
In my mind, I breathed a huge sigh of relief. I had been holding my breath waiting for his response. I dove right in before he could change his mind.
“I have a dog tag. Can you do a check?” I asked.
“Dog tag? Where the hell did you get a dog tag?”
“Let’s just say I found it.”
“Yeah, right,” Ed said wryly. He was silent for a few moments, then exhaled loudly and continued. “And this is somehow connected to all this Hispanic stuff you keep throwing at me?”
“Yes, definitely. Let me tell you how.”
“Oh, no you don’t. I don’t want to know. Just read me the info off the tag.”
“The name is Mason, Jeremy L.” I read the other information on the tag to him.
“I’ll see what I can do. But I’m warning you. Stay out of this, whatever it is. Fingerprints and dog tags? Just make up stuff and write your novel. It doesn’t need to be real.”
“I know. But this is important.” I was pleading my case even though he had already agreed to help. I felt I needed to offer him some justification, as weak as it was. “Thanks, Ed.”
He hung up without another word. Regret and excitement surged through me. I had definitely pushed Ed to the limit of what I could expect. For that I felt disappointment in myself for intruding on him. And I despised myself for being in a position that I was so desperate and dependent on him. But it had to be done. Of course, it would not have happened without the influence of Samantha. I owed her big time and would tell her so when this was over. I felt it would be soon. Things were coming to a head. Maybe not today, but very soon.