Chapter Thirty-one
Judy braked, hesitating before she turned onto the makeshift driveway, two dirt ruts that divided a black tangle of underbrush tall enough to obscure whatever lay on the other side. The only reason she knew it had to be the barracks was that she was at the intersection on Ravine Road, a single-lane backroad with neither houses, stores, nor streetlights, in a rural pocket of East Grove, about six miles from Kennett Square and civilization.
Judy was brave, but not crazy, so she put the car in neutral, reached for her phone, and pressed in the number for Detective Boone. She wanted to see if she could convince him to meet her. The phone rang, but her call went to voicemail and she left a message: “Detective, this is Judy, I’m at the barracks at Mallard and Ravine. I want to find Carlos Ramiro, Daniella’s boyfriend, and ask him a few questions about Iris’s death. Call me when you get this message please. Thanks so much.”
Judy hung up, only temporarily defeated. She listened to the efficient rumble of her VW engine and gazed through her windshield into the blackness and the thorny tangle of bramblebushes under her headlights. She didn’t love the idea of going to the barracks alone, but she didn’t see any option. She couldn’t justify calling 911 and she didn’t want to worry Mary. It struck her that she didn’t even consider calling Frank, but she didn’t have time now to ponder the reason. She couldn’t let it go and come back tomorrow, because she had to work.
She eyed the bramblebushes, which oddly reminded her of The Bramblebush, an old book about the philosophy of law that every law student hears about first year, which Judy had actually loved. The gist was that the law itself was a bramblebush, and that reminded Judy of her purpose at the barracks. Justice for Iris and Father Keegan. She couldn’t turn away, not when she’d come this far. She was here and she wanted to get it done now. She was strong and not completely unprepared, and if she kept her wits about her, she told herself she’d be fine.
She steered the wheel to the right, turned onto the driveway, and flicked on the high beams, traveling slowly. The driveway was unpaved and lined with more bramble and multiflora, and her headlights flashed on the blood-red eyes of something darting across her path. Spooked, she braked the car, her heart hammering until she realized it was just a fox, his bushy tail flying behind him as he disappeared into the underbrush.
She willed herself not to be afraid and cruised forward. Her headlights illuminated the dark outline of a building that lay ahead. There were no light fixtures to delineate its outline from the blackness of the night sky, but as she got closer, she could see that it was about fifty feet long, made of unpainted cinderblock, a flat roof, and a single front door, with only three small windows, each a lighted square, for its entire length. She thought she heard some sort of mechanical noise coming from the barracks, but wasn’t sure, so she lowered her window and confirmed it, hearing a loud thrumming from a machine she couldn’t identify.
Suddenly the engine noise cut out and the lights in the doorway and windows flickered off, plunging them all into darkness except for her headlights. Judy swallowed hard. She put the car in reverse, ready to get the hell out of there. In the stillness, she heard dogs barking and men laughing and shouting to each other in Spanish, with peppy music playing from a radio.
She told herself to stay calm. The stench of compost wafted through her open window. She didn’t know where the mushroom growers were, but they couldn’t be far. In the next moment, the engine noise started up again and the lights went back on abruptly.
She put the car in forward gear and cruised ahead. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and in the headlights she could see that a group of men were hanging out in front of the barracks, their white PVC chairs an unnaturally bright white. The engine noise was coming from a portable generator. The only illumination came from the open doorway, which was wide, like a barn door, and threw a warped square of light onto the hard ground, casting harsh shadows on the men. Their beer bottles glinted brown, and the ends of their cigarettes burned red.
They all stopped laughing and talking, and turned toward her, some getting out of chairs and others walking over. Judy’s mouth went dry. She realized there were probably ten or twelve of them, more than she’d reckoned for. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want to reverse, but she was in no hurry to get out of the car. Two little mutts came running toward her, barking and jumping up on her door, their toenails clacking.
“Settle down, guys,” Judy said, though she wasn’t sure if she was talking to the dogs or the men. She told herself to remain calm as the first man approached her car, cocking his head to peer at her. His body made a short and wiry silhouette in the light coming from the doorway, and she could see he was wearing a grimy white tank top and floppy work pants, but she couldn’t tell what he looked like, or even if he was smiling or hostile, because he was backlighted. His odor reached her before he did, a strong mix of cigarettes, aftershave, and compost.
“Miss, are you lost?” he asked, with a light Spanish accent, coming over to her car door and shooing the barking dogs away.
“Uh, no.” Judy could see in the reflected light from her dashboard that he couldn’t have been more than seventeen years old, with handsome features and a friendly smile, so she relaxed. “My name is Judy Carrier and I’m looking for Carlos Ramiro. I was told he lives here, by Father Vega.”
The young man frowned. “Are you from the church? Or Mike’s? I never saw you there.”
“No, I’m just a lawyer from the city.”
“You look like you’re from a D.A. or federal, like.”
“No, not at all. I’m in general practice.”
“Is anybody with you? You came alone?”
“Yes, I don’t have anything to do with immigration or anything like that, I promise you. Hold on, I’ll show you.” Judy reached into her purse, grabbed her wallet, and pulled out a business card, handing it to him. “This is me. I work at a law firm.”
“This looks nice, very nice.” The young man squinted at the card, though Judy doubted he had enough light to read it properly, and it gave her a moment to look at his face. He had fine features, with a small mouth, narrow nose, and brown eyes, with eyelashes to die for. His hair was a shaved fade that looked oiled, his long neck bore a tattooed crucifix, and his eyebrows were plucked.
“I’m not here in any official way. I just wanted to talk to Carlos about his girlfriend, Daniella. I’m a friend of her best friend, Iris.”
“Okay.” The young man smiled. “Wait here. You can get out if you want. The dogs don’t bite.”
“Sure, thanks.” Judy watched the young man jog back to the group, the dogs running to greet him, yapping at his heels. The men clustered around him, and there was more talking and a new wave of laughter, but Judy was beginning to find her bearings. She cut the engine, told herself not to be a chicken, and got out of the car.
The dogs raced back, barking and wagging their tails. She offered her hand, which they started licking, so she petted them. From her new vantage point, she could see inside the barracks, and as appalling as the sight was, it didn’t completely surprise her. The building had only a dirt floor, cinderblock walls, and a row of wooden bunk beds that looked almost exactly like the mushroom bed she’d seen in the growing house. There didn’t appear to be any other furniture. A soft orange glow suggested that there were space heaters inside, probably powered by the generator. She caught a whiff of cooking chicken coming from the doorway, but she didn’t know what they were making it on, maybe a hot plate. At the far end of the building stood a battered blue PortaJohn.
“Miss Judy!” the young man called out, motioning to her to come over to the group. “Carlos wants to see you!”
“Great.” Judy ignored her jitters, held her head high, and walked over to the men, who gathered around, a group of short and stocky silhouettes whose faces she couldn’t see. She had no way of knowing which man was Carlos, but she wasn’t going any closer.
“My name is Domingo,” the young man said, touching his chest. “I speak English, so I can translate if you want to talk to Carlos.”
“Thank you,” Judy said, forcing a smile. The dogs danced around her ankles. “Hi, everybody.”
“Hola, gringa!” a man called out, and there was general laughter.
“This is Carlos,” Domingo said, gesturing to a thickly muscled man who emerged from the crowd, smoking a cigarette. His shoulders were broad and strong, and he stood with his barrel chest puffed out, straining his grimy T-shirt, a stance so exaggerated it would have been comical if it weren’t genuinely menacing.
Judy found herself stepping back, without knowing why. Then she realized it wasn’t a reaction to him, but rather an unconscious imitation of the crowd, who also edged away, according him a certain status or just giving him a wide berth. She couldn’t see his features in detail, but his eyes were slits in a wide face, his hair was thick and oiled, and his arms were covered with tattoos. The man had the kind of presence that made her instantly sorry she’d come.
“Miss Judy, what did you want from Carlos?” Domingo asked, but Judy noticed a new tension in his tone.
“Can you ask him if he knows where Daniella is? I’m trying to find her so I can ask about Iris.”
Domingo turned to Carlos and spoke to him in rapid Spanish, and Judy didn’t recognize any words except for the names Daniella and Iris. Carlos replied in equally rapid Spanish, speaking without even looking at Domingo, and Judy felt her gut tighten when she recognized one of the words, puta, which meant whore.
Domingo said to Judy, “He says Daniella is home in Mexico.”
Judy hesitated. “Can you ask him if he’s sure? Also didn’t she care that she was going to miss Iris’s funeral?”
Domingo turned to Carlos and translated, and Carlos replied, again without looking at Domingo. Judy sensed that Carlos didn’t like Domingo, realizing why when she recognized another word, maricon, or, gay. Judy heard a quiet descend and sensed a growing fear in the crowd.
Domingo said to Judy, “He said he’s sure she’s there. He drove her to the bus himself. She went home again because she was sad about Iris. She wanted to be with her family.”
Judy hesitated. “Father Vega told me she wouldn’t miss Iris’s funeral.”
Domingo turned to translate, but before he could say a word, Carlos exploded in anger, shoving him in his chest and shouting in Spanish. Domingo reeled, staggering off-balance, but didn’t lose his footing.
Judy gasped, edging away. She had to go. Trouble was breaking out. The dogs started barking and running around.
Carlos advanced on Judy, shouting in Spanish, his dark eyes glittering with malice. Her heart jumped through her chest.
Domingo came over, shaken. “Miss Judy, leave right away. Go. Now. Run.”
Suddenly Carlos lunged at Judy and grabbed her by the shoulders. He reeked of beer and body odor.
“No, no!” Judy struggled in his grasp, terrified. She couldn’t get away. Carlos dug his nails into her, yanked her off her feet toward him, and pressed his body against hers.
“No!” Judy tried to get away but Carlos overpowered her. He thrust his hips into her, his crotch hard.
Judy couldn’t get her hands free. Carlos was shoving her backwards to the ground. Fear electrified her, jolting all of her senses to high alert. Adrenaline poured into her system. She was going to be raped or killed. She had to save herself.
Carlos pulled her close, pressed his wet lips to her, and bit her hard on the lips, leaving spittle on her lips, the revolting kiss of a sadist.
Judy exploded in disgust, kneeing him with all her might. Carlos crumpled in pain and shock.
Judy reeled but kept her wits about her. She broke free, whipped her can of Mace from her blazer pocket, and aimed it directly at his eyes.
“No, no, NO!” Judy roared, scrambling backwards toward her car. “Stay away from me! Stay back!”
She jumped into the car, locked the doors, started the engine, and reversed at speed, almost veering off the driveway.
Her heart didn’t stop hammering until she reached the city.