Page 23 of Mouse Trapped

She snorts a strangled laugh. “We’re in Arizona, Mr Williamson. We might not have tented cities for immigrants anymore, but there’s still some that wish that we had.”

“Among the cops,” I suggest, my teeth gnashing together.

“Could be what we’re up against, yes.”

“What do you suggest?”

A sigh, then, “You keep doing what you were suggesting. Seeing if we can prove her innocence, but…”

As her voice trails off, it doesn’t take a genius to fill in the blanks. “She might get deported anyway now she’s in their sights.”

“Even her DACA status doesn’t protect her. Could hold her until that runs out. A year or even more being held in an immigration centre isn’t unknown.”

Drew’s only hearing one side of the conversation, but that’s enough. His face is creasing with worry.

“You did the right thing engaging me, Mr Williamson. We won’t lose sight of her now. She’s not a statistic. I know how much she must mean to you.”

“Can she get bail?”

“No. She’ll be seen as a flight risk. Any bail set will be astronomical, if any is set at all. The price of someone’s freedom will be sky high. She’ll be going to court very shortly, and I have to be honest here, probably the best she can expect is to go to an immigration centre instead of going to jail. I’ll stay in close contact, and let you know if she’s going to be moved.”

“And if I prove she wasn’t the perpetrator?”

Her silence speaks volumes.

“She’s not here illegally if she’s got protected status,” I try again.

“Technically that’s true. But the times that we live in… I’ll be in touch when I have more news.”

“Any chance her brother can see her?” Drew needs to see his sister. Be reassured she’s okay with his own eyes. But again, Carissa disappoints me.

“Not while the police have her, no. I’m sorry, Mr Williamson. I know how worried you must be about her. I wish I had better news for you.”

Drew’s looking hopeful. When I explain the side of the conversation he couldn’t hear, he’s gutted.

Realising how much he’ll have been longing to see his sister, to reassure himself she’s alright, I place my hand on his shoulder. “Look on the positive side. Mariana’s got a good lawyer, and I,wewon’t be giving up.”

He kicks at the curb, bites his lip in a way that reminds me of his sister, then shrugs. “What next?”

Next is getting him home. The bike doesn’t allow for conversation, so I take Drew straight back to that sorry trailer, wondering how the fuck I can help this distraught lad. Once inside, I settle down on the couch and open my laptop. “Want pizza?”

He shrugs and throws himself down on the couch beside me, the thing lurches and groans under the sudden weight. I hold my breath wondering if I’ll find myself on the floor, but it holds up. Just.

“Can’t think about food, not when…”

“Gotta keep eating.” When he gives a reluctant nod, I place the order. Having to pay extra, and by card in advance, to get it delivered to the park. I don’t even blame them; this isn’t a good area. Now food’s been sorted, I start my investigating.

There’s more than one Todd Jenkins in Tucson. I look back at the newspaper article. It had Mariana’s age, not his, nor his make of car. I try to narrow it down as to area.Where could he have been coming from? I then do some searches to see whetherhe’s done something like this before, but none of the people with that name appear to have put in insurance claims.

Mariana’s insurance.I descend to the deep web, that place where establishments like banks hold records of accounts and account holders, no IP addresses to give shit away. Held securely, except from people like me, and…

“Drew? Mariana’s insurance company. She got details anywhere?”

The sound of a scooter drawing up outside has me moving and looking out of the window. Our dinner has arrived. Drew’s getting up to go get it. Guess he must have remembered he’s hungry after all.

“In a box under my bed. She keeps stuff like that there,” he replies, as he opens the door and disappears outside.

It takes less than a moment to find it. Another man might feel guilty going through someone else’s personal documents, but as delving into other people’s business is what I do for the club, remorse doesn’t enter my head as I start to sort through. Drew’s all important birth certificate is there, proving he’s an American citizen. A couple of letters postmarked from Colombia that I put to one side, and there, her car insurance details. Thankfully she hasn’t gone paperless.