Brady told the group he was going to try to gain entry and take a look at the camper van and other vehicles also stored inside the metal building. They were to meet back at this exit in thirty minutes.
Brady followed the eaves of the warehouse, which was in shade, making sure there were no surveillance cameras tracking him. At one point, a forklift operator came close to his location but did not discover him.
Brady slipped inside the building through a door after he picked the lock and waited until his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Sunlight poured through the end of the building where the boxes were being offloaded, but in the section where Brady stood, it was dark. He heard whispering and movement behind him.
He squatted down behind a pallet of two-by-fours and plastic PVC piping and listened. They appeared to be voices of young women.
Since the women spoke Spanish, Brady could not make out their conversation. He decided to go get Enemario to help translate. He tapped the comm on his ear. “Boombox?” he whispered.
“I got you.”
“I need your services. Back west corner of the warehouse. There is an open door. I am in the shadows close to the wall behind a stack of lumber. Somewhere on the other side, I hear voices, women’s voices, but they’re speaking Spanish.”
“You got it, Chief.”
Less than two minutes later, Enemario silently joined him. The two men listened, and as the chatter began again, Enemario nodded. “They have just arrived. I am not sure where they are from, but they have just arrived from Mexico, that is for sure. They are confused, and they are promised work. They are told they cannot call home yet, and several are angry because of it. They have family back home who will worry if they don’t hear from them. But they’re stuck, until they’re placed with families. And it appears that these girls are to be serving the party at the house.”
“Any idea how many?” Brady asked.
“I hear maybe eight or ten ladies. Perhaps more. One of them complained she thought she was pregnant. Another woman consoled her and told her she was lucky.”
“Someone is coming to pick them up then?”
“Yes, they are waiting for work. But several of the girls want to call home. I don’t think they realize they won’t be allowed to.”
“They’re coming for work then. They’re volunteering to come.”
“In a way, yes, it appears as though they’re coming of their own volition. This surprises me. Doesn’t it surprise you, Brady?”
“It does indeed. I’m going to take some pictures of these boxes with their source codes and tracking labels. Why don’t you try to strike up a conversation, if you can?” Brady instructed him.
While Brady photographed the boxes piled high with appliances and auto parts, Enemario focused his attention on the girls. In Spanish, he greeted them, pretending to be part of the crew. The tone of the conversation was pleasant. He told them not to worry, that they were going to see a very beautiful home, or something to that effect. Brady could hear the excitement in the girls’ voices.
Brady worried something didn’t quite add up. He was not expecting a voluntary exodus from Mexico, even though the stories told to convince the girls to come were probably untrue. He had visions of them drugged or handcuffed or mistreated. These girls were coerced by the promise of making money, big money.
When Enemario returned to his location and they exited the building, he got the rest of the story.
“Several in this group are sisters, and they all come from a small village in Michoacán Province. Their families have sent them to be forward guard, to be housekeepers and cooks and nannies for wealthy Californians. They’ve been told they might live in Hollywood or Los Angeles or some grand estate somewhere. They’re told they will be working for very wealthy couples, and they’ve been told they will be paid very well.”
“I didn’t expect this, Enemario. But if Rojas is involved, these women are in danger.”
“I completely agree.”
“I’ve got everything we need here. I think our best chance of getting Rojas is going to be at the house. We’ll need to get you a vantage point so you can cover our operation, and that might take some doing. So let’s get over to the house and get set up.”
“Suits me fine. I’ve been mentally practicing my shots. I hope I don’t have to, but if I do, I’ll sure as hell be ready.”
Confident the rest of their plan would succeed, they headed toward Esquivel Rojas’s residence in the prune yard district and hopefully a surprise, successful capture. With any luck, Brady thought, they could be heading back to Healdsburg by tomorrow.
Chapter 9
Brady and the three others picked up Enemario’s truck and headed over to the estate. Carter had signaled he was in the ballroom, mixing with guests and introducing himself to the visitors and staff. He gave them photos of several of the young girls who were serving refreshments and showing people to tables along the ballroom perimeter.
Brady asked if Esquivel had been seen yet, and Carter denied it.
“I sure don’t like that. Must be running late. You getting any strange vibes, Carter?” Brady asked.
“Not really, but then I’m not plugged in yet. People are nice. I don’t see much of a presence, but I’m assuming Esquivel just comes with a very limited entourage. There’s a lot of people here, and there’s some fabulous auction items. I might bid on a couple.”
“Knock yourself out,” Brady said, shaking his head.
Speaking to John and Riley, Brady requested they all drop by the diner and see if they could chat up the waitress again. She had been rather friendly before, and Brady thought it would be a good idea to double check some of his intel.
They picked a parking lot two blocks away so as not to cause too much attention. The old bus looked funny next to the green metal flake monster truck of Enemario’s, and Brady was reconsidering the wisdom of bringing the thing at all. The van, or the gadget mobile, was necessary, since they would need to be living in it for a day or two if that’s what it took to do proper surveillance.
They split up into two groups again, Enemario walking in with John slightly ahead of Brady and Riley. He scanned the area but didn’t see the cowboy with the white hat. He did notice the waitress working a table in the far corner. Brady indicated to the rest of the group he’d like to sit as close to that table as possible so she would come over naturally. He and Riley sat down, and within seconds, the helpful woman was at their table with a pot of coffee.
“No, thank you, ma’am,” Brady said, protecting his mug with his hand. “It’s a little late in the day for coffee. But I’ll have a piece of pie,” he said.
“Make that two,” added Riley.
“All right, boys, coming right up.” She sauntered off to the revolving glass case on the countertop, removed two pieces of pie from the already-plated remnants in the carousel, and made it back to their table in all of two minutes.
“You didn’t request peach, but that’s all we got,” she said. “And they’re so good nobody seems to mind. Tomorrow, they’re going to have berry, so come back then, and better make it by early afternoon, because we usually sell out.”