Read Online Betrayed: A Rosato & DiNunzio Novel (Rosato & Associates Book 13) by Lisa Scottoline - Free Book Online
Authors: Lisa Scottoline
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there was no way to tell if anyone was inside, and the only light came from flickering fixtures on the roofs of the buildings, which cast jittery cones of light on the worn asphalt lot.
“Here’s Mike’s.” Aunt Barb gestured at a driveway that had no sign, except for PRIVATE PROPERTY, NO THRU TRAFFIC. “That’s the parking lot.”
“Why no sign?” Judy steered into the lot, where there were a few old cars parked in a row.
“Everybody knows where Mike’s is, he’s one of the tiny, independent growers. He owns about ten other growers, all independent. He produces exotics.”
“What’s ‘exotics’?” Judy turned off the ignition and put on the emergency brake, looking through the windshield and noticing for the first time that the buildings had large numbers painted on the cinderblock, in black. The building on the end, closest to them, was number seven.
“Fancier mushrooms. Portabella, mitake, shitake, cremini. But he hires the undocumented.”
“How does he get away with it? What about Immigration?”
“The way the system works is that Immigration stages a raid only if there’s a significant number of complaints, in relation to the size of the workforce. Bottom line, nobody complains.” Aunt Barb picked up her water bottle and took a sip of water. “Immigration isn’t the real problem, anyway, the IRS is. If a grower submits a list of social security numbers and they’re not good, it takes the IRS three months to figure that out. So in three months, after the grower gets the IRS notice, he fires the employees and they go to another grower, or another location of the same grower, like Mike’s.”
“Really?”
“That’s how it worked with Iris. She’s worked at all of his locations for about a year now.” Aunt Barb eyed the buildings. “It’s like a shell game, because even workers with legitimate green cards have only six months in the country, then they have to go back. They worry they can’t get back in, but plenty of them do, and they end up at one of the shadier growers.”
“Was Iris afraid of being caught?”
“She worried about it constantly. She lived in fear of being deported, always looking over her shoulder. You saw her, she was so quiet, she learned to be invisible.” Aunt Barb paused, and her eyes glistened anew. “There are so many undocumented workers here, and everywhere.”
“But that doesn’t make it right.” Judy believed in the law, even if it meant siding with her mother.
“I know, but they’re here, living in a parallel universe. They’re an open secret.”
Judy thought of the undocumented workers she’d seen in the city, the busboys smoking outside the back door of the restaurants, or the men who delivered her takeout pizza by bicycle. “We know and we-don’t-know.”
“Yes, and the interesting thing about an open secret is that people look the other way, literally. Iris became the kind of woman whom people looked away from. Unmemorable and marginalized, even more than the average middle-aged woman.”
Judy could hear the resentment in her aunt’s voice. “Where did she work before Mike’s?”
“She cleaned houses for that service, which is when I met her, as I told you. She also did yard work, and she washed and mended horse blankets. At one point, she worked three jobs.”
Judy slid the keys from the ignition. “Okay. So why are we here?”
“You’ll see. I have a plan. Just follow my lead.” Aunt Barb reached for the door handle.
And Judy wondered when it got to be so hard to keep up with someone almost twice her age.
Chapter Nine
“So what’s your plan?” Judy took her aunt’s arm, but she needed no help, standing straight and tall, her step fueled by a new determination.
“To see the boss and get to the bottom of this, that’s what. Iris works here and she should have been here tonight.” Aunt Barb gestured at the cinderblock buildings. “These are the growing rooms, and the packing area and office are behind
“Here’s Mike’s.” Aunt Barb gestured at a driveway that had no sign, except for PRIVATE PROPERTY, NO THRU TRAFFIC. “That’s the parking lot.”
“Why no sign?” Judy steered into the lot, where there were a few old cars parked in a row.
“Everybody knows where Mike’s is, he’s one of the tiny, independent growers. He owns about ten other growers, all independent. He produces exotics.”
“What’s ‘exotics’?” Judy turned off the ignition and put on the emergency brake, looking through the windshield and noticing for the first time that the buildings had large numbers painted on the cinderblock, in black. The building on the end, closest to them, was number seven.
“Fancier mushrooms. Portabella, mitake, shitake, cremini. But he hires the undocumented.”
“How does he get away with it? What about Immigration?”
“The way the system works is that Immigration stages a raid only if there’s a significant number of complaints, in relation to the size of the workforce. Bottom line, nobody complains.” Aunt Barb picked up her water bottle and took a sip of water. “Immigration isn’t the real problem, anyway, the IRS is. If a grower submits a list of social security numbers and they’re not good, it takes the IRS three months to figure that out. So in three months, after the grower gets the IRS notice, he fires the employees and they go to another grower, or another location of the same grower, like Mike’s.”
“Really?”
“That’s how it worked with Iris. She’s worked at all of his locations for about a year now.” Aunt Barb eyed the buildings. “It’s like a shell game, because even workers with legitimate green cards have only six months in the country, then they have to go back. They worry they can’t get back in, but plenty of them do, and they end up at one of the shadier growers.”
“Was Iris afraid of being caught?”
“She worried about it constantly. She lived in fear of being deported, always looking over her shoulder. You saw her, she was so quiet, she learned to be invisible.” Aunt Barb paused, and her eyes glistened anew. “There are so many undocumented workers here, and everywhere.”
“But that doesn’t make it right.” Judy believed in the law, even if it meant siding with her mother.
“I know, but they’re here, living in a parallel universe. They’re an open secret.”
Judy thought of the undocumented workers she’d seen in the city, the busboys smoking outside the back door of the restaurants, or the men who delivered her takeout pizza by bicycle. “We know and we-don’t-know.”
“Yes, and the interesting thing about an open secret is that people look the other way, literally. Iris became the kind of woman whom people looked away from. Unmemorable and marginalized, even more than the average middle-aged woman.”
Judy could hear the resentment in her aunt’s voice. “Where did she work before Mike’s?”
“She cleaned houses for that service, which is when I met her, as I told you. She also did yard work, and she washed and mended horse blankets. At one point, she worked three jobs.”
Judy slid the keys from the ignition. “Okay. So why are we here?”
“You’ll see. I have a plan. Just follow my lead.” Aunt Barb reached for the door handle.
And Judy wondered when it got to be so hard to keep up with someone almost twice her age.
Chapter Nine
“So what’s your plan?” Judy took her aunt’s arm, but she needed no help, standing straight and tall, her step fueled by a new determination.
“To see the boss and get to the bottom of this, that’s what. Iris works here and she should have been here tonight.” Aunt Barb gestured at the cinderblock buildings. “These are the growing rooms, and the packing area and office are behind
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