“Sounds great,” Swann said. “You guys mind if I spend my vacation here?”
“You might be surprised,” Winn said. “People like it here. It’s a lot better than going home and getting murdered.”
A black SUV waited for them outside the hut. As the car drove through the camp, they passed another fence topped with looping razor wire. A handful of men sat on benches on the other side of the fence. Four or five of them were white men. A couple of them were black. They all wore bright yellow jumpsuits. They stared through the fence at the passing car.
“Those guys don’t look like Mexicans,” Ed Newsam said.
Pete Winn’s face began to change. Earlier it had been friendly, maybe even a touch nervous to meet Luke and his team. Now it seemed almost dismissive.
“No, they don’t,” he said. “We’ve got some
