Planning to ask Debbie a few more questions about the “thumps” she’d heard, Sophia had just stepped onto the landing when her cell phone rang. According to caller ID, it was Detective Lindstrom.
She nearly ignored it. But Councilman Fedorko had called this morning and added even more pressure to what she was already feeling. He’d told her the other city council members were getting nervous, that they were wondering if she had the experience to get the job done. He implied that there were two members, in particular, who were talking about replacing her. He claimed Mayor Schilling was even lamenting the fact that they hadn’t promoted Leonard. Paul seemed to believe that, questionable character aside, Leonard would have a better chance of catching the UDA killer. Sophia knew it was fear that was making the city council second-guess their decision. They were scared that someone who wasn’t a UDA would get shot and a battle would erupt between the two factions. But she didn’t appreciate their lack of faith.
Bottom line, she had to cooperate with Lindstrom, had to trust the detective despite the warning bells in her head and the sick feeling in her gut. She couldn’t do this alone. There was too much work.
She hit the talk button. “Chief St. Claire.”
“You identified the victims?”
She’d left Lindstrom a message to that effect after her chat with Fedorko. “I did.”
“How?”
“Naco was worth the trip.”
“I let the Mexican consulate know about the murders. You might want to alert them to this new development.”
“I already did.”
“Who’d you speak with?”
“Same guy you did. Deputy Consul Rudy Ruybal.” He’d been their contact from the beginning.
“I pushed him to do the DNA testing for Philip Moreno. Did he say anything about it?”
Philip Moreno was among the victims in the second incident. They’d identified him via SIRLI, by posting a picture of the unusual eyeglass case found near his body and the logo on his T-shirt. “He didn’t mention it.”
“I can’t believe they’re dragging their feet on this.”
“It’s expensive. Rudy needs approval.” When there was no other way to be sure of a deceased UDA’s identity, the consulate had Baylor University do a DNA test, hoping to match the body with relatives back in Mexico. But it was a time-consuming and expensive process that had to be approved by the foreign ministry’s headquarters in Mexico City, and the government wasn’t too thrilled about doing it unless they were fairly sure it would be successful. Just in the past decade, thousands of illegal immigrants, many of them unidentified, had died in the Southwest. The logo on Moreno’s T-shirt was the only thing they had to indicate he was from Durango. But if they could confirm his identity, it might help them identify the female who was traveling with him. Sophia suspected they were the brother and sister the Moreno family in Durango had reported missing.
“Did he seem upset?” Lindstrom asked.
“Definitely. He requested a meeting.”
“You don’t think he’ll try to make us look bad by going to the media, do you?”
Fedorko had been worried about the same thing. He said any negative press would work against her, because it would give the mayor the ammunition he needed to bring the council to a consensus. “He will if he thinks it’s in his country’s best interest. But I don’t think he wants this to turn into a war any more than we do.”
“I want to be present at the meeting.” Lindstrom sounded as if she was prepared for an argument, but Sophia was certainly willing to let her deal with Deputy Consul Ruybal.
“No problem. It’s at two. When you go, please tell Rudy I’m busy with the investigation and couldn’t get away.”
There was a long pause. “You set me up.”
“You set yourself up,” Sophia said. “There’s no reason for both of us to be there.”
“Fine. Whatever. Tell me what happened in Naco. I want every detail, everything you know, so I can show him we’re doing all we can and that we’re making progress.”
“The Sanchezes came by bus from Nayarit to Naco, where they crossed on Friday night along with thirty others. They were led by two runners—Miguel and Juan Martinez. According to Juan, they were an hour or so into the walk when they were spotted by the border patrol and everyone scattered. José and Benita struck out alone.”
“Then there’s no way to track who saw them last,” she complained. “Their killer could be anyone who came across them.”
“Anyone with a silencer,” Sophia said.
“You think the culprit used a silencer?”
“I didn’t realize it right away, but it occurred to me that those shots would’ve disturbed more people if they’d sounded like regular gunfire.”
“Silencers aren’t easy to come by.”
“It’s not as tough here as it is in some states.”
“I’ll check with the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives to see if anyone in this area obtained one through legal means in the past year or so.”
Sophia doubted it would be that simple. This guy was too smart. But they had to eliminate whatever possibilities they could. There were fewer silencers on the market than guns. “I know someone who might have a bead on the black market. I’ll ask him to poke around, see what he can find.” She didn’t add that her contact was also an ex-boyfriend, who just happened to be intimately acquainted with that sort of thing.
Debbie Berke came to the door even though Sophia hadn’t knocked yet. “I thought I heard your voice.”
Sophia held up a finger to indicate she’d be with her in a second. “While you’re talking to ATF, see if they have any undercover agents working in the area that we might be able to speak with. Maybe they’ve heard something about the sale or trade of a silencer.”
“That’s not a bad idea. So when’s the autopsy?”
“Hasn’t been scheduled yet. I’ll let you know when I hear.”
“Sure you will,” Lindstrom said, and hung up.
Sophia was about to turn to Debbie to ask whether the shot she’d heard might have been fired through a silencer when a Hummer drove up and a man got out. The glare of the sun made it difficult to see him clearly, but the moment she raised a hand to shade her eyes, Sophia realized it was Roderick Guerrero.
Roderick hadn’t expected to find Sophia here. He’d merely come to take a look at the crime scene. Since everyone in town was talking about the murders, it hadn’t been hard to learn where they’d occurred. But there she was, standing in front of a heavyset woman Roderick was sure he’d never met. This grouping of trailers had been here when he’d lived in Bordertown, but he’d never associated with the people inside them.