didn’t trust us. Americans, I mean.”
“What do you mean?”
“He didn’t have a bank account. No credit cards or anything. He was always thinking someone was going to kick him out of the country.”
“But he wasn’t here illegally?” Otto asked.
“No, he was just paranoid.”
“You don’t know of any friends he had outside of work? Not even one?” she asked.
He frowned. “No. I guess not.”
“Did you ever visit his apartment after work?”
“No.”
Josie dismissed Magnetty and then called over Jim Sanders, the tall young kid with acne. She asked him the same questions but he offered little. He blushed at each question and shrugged, basically repeating that he never talked with Santiago about anything.
Skip Bradford, the group’s immediate supervisor, entered the cafeteria and came over to the interview table. He apologized for taking so long, then listened closely as the mop-topped Bobby Cahill described Santiago as an old guy with no sense of humor.
“What do you mean by that?” Josie asked him.
He shrugged and ran a hand through his unruly hair. “I just never talked to him. He was too quiet. Brent talked to him more than anyone, but the guy never really smiled.”
“Was he unfriendly?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I guess. I just ignored him.”
Brent Thyme was the last person Josie interviewed. He had a short, slim build and a friendly demeanor.
“I always thought he looked kind of embarrassed to have a conversation with you. He was really shy, kind of backward with people.” He paused and thought for a moment. “But, at the same time, he was mentally tough.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“He went through a lot to get here. To get this job. He lived by himself. Focused all his energy on getting a better life for his family back home. I had a lot of respect for him.” Brent’s face burned red under the freckles at his comments. He seemed embarrassed to talk about Santiago’s personal matters.
“Was his quietness caused by a language barrier?” Otto asked.
“No, he spoke English fine. He was just quiet,” Brent said. “I drove him to work every day. He didn’t have a car. But he still didn’t talk. He’d sleep in the morning and look out the window at night. I finally gave up trying.”
Josie’s cell phone vibrated in her pocket and she opened it, saw it was from Marta, and allowed it to go to voice mail until she was finished with the interviews.
“Was he likeable? Did he have a good personality?” she asked.
Brent gave an apologetic smile. “I hate to repeat it, but he didn’t say enough to even let you know what his personality was.”
Josie asked Brent if he had ever had a conversation with him about his personal life.
“He missed his family. He was married and had kids, but they were older. He had a large family in Juarez, I think. Lots of extended family. He was homesick. Trying to scrape up enough to build a house back home.”
“Do you know the last time he visited?” Josie asked.
“No idea. I never met his family. I wouldn’t even know how to contact them to check.”
Josie’s cell phone buzzed again. She pulled it out of her pocket and saw the call was from Marta. She wouldn’t call twice unless there was an issue. Josie excused herself and Otto nodded, indicating he would take over the interview.
Josie answered as she walked across the cafeteria. “What’s up?”
“It’s Teresa. She’s gone.” Josie heard the anguish in Marta’s voice.
“From home?”
Marta took a long breath and exhaled, moaning in the background. “I worked third shift last night. About the time I got to bed this morning Lou called and asked me to run over to Santiago’s apartment. I got back home just now and looked into her room.” Her breathing hitched.
“How do you know she left home?”
“She left a note.”
“What did she say?”
Marta was quiet for a moment and Josie realized she was crying.
“Marta,” she said gently. “We can’t talk this through until you quit crying. Put the phone down. Take a deep breath. Grab a Kleenex. Then give me details.”
Josie turned back to the group of men at the cafeteria table and saw Otto taking notes. She had no doubt he would be thorough. As she watched, waiting for Marta to return, Diego turned and caught her glance, a beat longer than was necessary.
Marta returned to the phone. “I’m sorry. I never expected this. She’s never done anything like this. And, no warning.”
Josie turned her back on the group in order to focus on the call. “What