"They arrive in the fall and winter months. Here in the desert that means October through January."
"They come during that time because it's?—"
"Harvest season."
I'm nodding as I think this over. "We're still looking for old employee records, but I think we should also keep an eye out for a list of seasonal people."
"Seasonal people would've been gone by the spring," Hugo points out.
"True. But did your dad ever keep people on following harvest? Somebody who wanted to stay, and was a good employee?"
Hugo shrugs. "It's not impossible, but I don't know of anybody off the top of my head. I was really young."
We continue the search, stopping only to eat some of the protein bars and almonds I tucked away in my purse earlier when we stopped at Hugo's house.
My focus remains steadfast, for the most part, but I'll admit to being distracted by the way Hugo bites the side of his lower lip. And the way his big, callused hand palms his thigh, elbow stuck out to the side when he leans down for a closer look at a paper.
"I found something," he says, excitement poking at the corners of his tone. "It couldn't be more informal." He slides the paper across the desk to me. "It's literally a list of names, with a date."
Hugo's dad wrote in all caps, the letters clear and precise despite the age. At the top of the paper, underlined, are the words CHRISTMAS BONUS. The year listed is only one prior to the year he was killed.
"See that?" Hugo stabs at a name on the paper.
Jimmy Esteban.
"That's Claudette's dad," he explains. "He worked alongside my dad for years. I don't recognize any of theother names. My mom mentioned once that there was a large exodus following what happened to my dad. The employees were really upset. But those who've been hired since have stayed on."
"Jimmy stayed when all those employees left?"
"Yes. Claudette took over for him eventually."
"I ran into her in the bathroom. She told me as much. She's the one who mentioned the seasonal employees."
I reach for the police file, flipping open the folder. I locate the list of all the people the police spoke with, including every Summerhill employee. Down the list I go, reading out a name as Hugo confirms they are on his dad's list.
At the bottom of the police list is a black rectangle. "This one appears to be recently redacted." My finger slips over the ink. It doesn't leave a mark on my skin, but it looks newer. Not nearly as aged as the rest of the document.
"What reason would the police have for redacting the name of someone they interviewed?"
"Protection. Usually it's done to keep someone's personal information from getting out. It's odd, though. Why this name, and not the others? What is it about this name that needs protecting?"
Hugo sits back. His lips purse, and he rubs his thumb and his forefinger together. Suddenly he's up from the desk, crossing the office in two strides. "I'm going to ask Claudette to call her dad."
"I'll wait here for you."
Hugo halts with his hand on the door handle. Helooks back at me, shaking his head. "Wherever I am, you are welcome there, too."
My heart trips over itself. None of this is by design. He's nottryingto say the right thing, but it happens because of who he is.
I get up, and he holds out his hand. Together, we make our way to Claudette's office.
The friendly smile falls from her face when she sees Hugo's serious expression.
"Everything alright?"
"I need a favor, Claudette."
She nods, encouraging Hugo to continue.
