“The battery powers a minigun,” Addy went on, “which is like a Gatling gun, if you know what that is.”
“Um, yeah.” He bit his lip. “It’s like a really big machine gun.”
She nodded. “It’s a mass-casualty weapon that drug lords are using in Mexico to kill people at an alarming rate.”
“Oh, man.” He lowered his head and swiped a hand over his face, the chains holding him down jingling. “I didn’t know. I swear. You gotta believe me.”
“Who paid you to drive the car?” Mack asked.
Pena lifted his head, his eyes dark with sorrow. “Some guy I met outside a bodega. I never seen him before, and he only gave me his first name. Dante. I remember because I thought hekinda looked like the devil. I mean his expression.” He shook his head. “I never shoulda hooked up with him, but my wife, she’s pregnant. I’ve been out of work, and we need the cash so we don’t get evicted. If I don’t pay the rent by tomorrow, we’ll be thrown out on the street.” Tears formed in his eyes. “She’s flipping out over my arrest. What am I gonna do? The baby...”
Addy felt sorry for him, yet there was nothing she could do to reduce the prison time he was facing. “Can you describe Dante for us?”
He gave a physical description that matched Dante Zamora, just as Addy expected.
She shifted on the hard metal chair and laid a photo of Zamora on the table. “Is this the guy?”
“Yeah. That’s him all right.”
Mack eyed Pena. “Where were you supposed to find the car and deliver your cargo?”
“They gave me a car to take into Mexico. It had the coordinates programmed in for leaving the car and picking up the other one. There was a man there with coordinates on a piece of paper for the drop-off location. He told me to memorize them, then took the paper back.” Pena shared the GPS coordinates.
Addy wrote them down. “Do you know where that is?”
He nodded. “Just north of the border, out in the middle of nowhere.”
Addy was shocked that a man who seemed to have gotten his life on the right track would take such a risk. “I know you’re upset over being caught, but you do realize that meeting gunrunners in some secluded spot would not have gone well for you.”
“Yeah, I know that now.” He clapped a hand on his forehead. “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I knew it was too good to be true. Myabuelitaalways warned me about that.”
His grandma was right—the guy should’ve listened. “Dothe names Joshua Ross, Randy Turner, and Eric Woods mean anything to you?”
“No. Should they?”
Addy shrugged.
“What about the bodega where you met Dante?” Mack asked. “Where’s it located?”
Pena mentioned cross streets in San Ysidro, which Addy also recorded in her notebook.
“We live just down the street. I went to get ice cream for my wife. Cravings.” The tears glistened in his deep brown eyes.
“Do you have any family she and the baby could maybe live with?” Addy gave in to her emotions like Harris always accused her of doing.
He nodded. “But I ... my son. He will be how old when I finally get to truly be his father?”
Addy’s heart was breaking for this man, and she wished she could do something for him. “We’ll make sure the judge knows you cooperated. That should help the judge be more lenient with the charges. Still, you have to know this is very serious.”
“I do. I really do. How else can I help?”
“What about Dante?” Mack said. “Is there anything else you can tell us about him?”
“He seemed respectable. Except for the way he watched me. And his clothes ... man, they looked expensive. You could tell he’d dropped a lot of money on them and on a gold necklace he was wearing.”
Pena described Zamora’s clothing in greater detail, as well as the same necklace she’d seen in her photos, further confirming they were on the right track.
“What about his car?” Addy asked. “Can you describe what he was driving or give us a plate number?”
