CASEY FINISHED HER RUN AND DIDN'T BOTHER TO TOWEL OFF before she fired up her computer, got the phone number of the first boyfriend she'd had after her divorce, and called him at his new home in Washington, DC.
"Tommy? Casey Jordan."
She heard him clear his throat. In a groggy voice he said, "It's six o'clock."
"I know," she said, speaking fast. "I'm sorry. I had a client deported. Well, she went voluntarily, but that was because they were holding her two-year-old daughter. She's near Monterrey. That's where they sent her and I need your help to get her back."
"Is this really Casey?" he asked. Tommy Gillespie worked for the State Department, a mid-level administrator, and a former standout baseball player at A &M. While unmarried, blond, and handsome, he was too young for Casey and too committed to a career that kept him bouncing from place to place.
"I know I haven't been good about staying in touch," she said. "But I think about you."
"I saw that thing on TV," he said.
Casey felt her cheeks warm.
"Yeah, it was pretty good," he said. "Happy ending and everything. The girl I'm seeing, she got a little choked up. She actually wanted to call you, but I told her no."
"I thought the whole thing was stupid," Casey said.
"Well, she liked it."
"I didn't mean it like that," Casey said. "Anyway, can you help me?"
"I'll try."
Casey explained what happened to Isodora, then told him about the lawsuit she had already put in motion.
"I remember the DA had a witness for a case I tried in Austin a few years ago," she said. "The guy was an illegal from Mexico. I didn't want him testifying and I tried to make something of his status to the judge, but it was all by the book. They went to the State Department and got him some kind of a visa I guess you have for people involved in legal matters."
"Sure," he said. "A visitor's visa for business, a B-1."
"Well, this is a lawsuit," Casey said.
"You think we could do business in this country without lawsuits? Litigation is covered under a B-1. It's no big deal."
"And it supersedes this voluntary deportation?"
"Sure," he said.
"What if she's on some kind of watch list?"
"Is this like that time you asked me if I liked to see justice being served and I ended up as an expert witness in that crazy trial with the woman who stole her kids?"
"Those kids were hers, and you know it," Casey said. "The senator in this case called in some favors. Evidently, the dead husband has a brother who's a Latin King. They painted her with the organized-crime thing."
"I'd like it if every bit of information got referenced and cross-checked between agencies by now, but the truth is, there's a lot less information sharing than you'd think," Tommy said. "I'm not saying you could fly her in. TSA is linked up pretty good. But if you bring her back in a car with a B-1 from the State Department? Customs won't think twice. A visa's a visa."
"Perfect."
"Not for me if someone catches it, but it works for you."
"So how do we do this?" Casey asked.
"I'll have it drawn up and faxed to you for your signature and your input of information on the lawsuit," Tommy said. "You send it back and I'll have it waiting for her in-where'd you say she was? Monterrey?"
"Yes."
"At the consulate there," he said.
"Can you get it done by tomorrow?" she asked.
"Tomorrow?" he asked.
"I need to get this done," she said. "Can you have it waiting at the consulate in Monterrey?"
Tommy chuckled and said, "You're so bashful."
"Please."
"Okay," Tommy said. "One favor."
"Name it."
"My girlfriend, Lauren? Just give her cell phone a call and leave a message. Say anything. 'Hi, this is Casey. Tommy says you're great.' She's in love with you."
"Jesus, Tommy."
"Hey, I'm the one manipulating the federal government."
"I thought it was standard to issue a B-1 for a litigation?"
"Yeah, and it takes about six months to process. You're going to get it in about six hours."