He produced the cassette recorder and again played the conversation with Brink and his partner in Milwaukee. This time, strain overtook Sandra’s eyes as she understood the meaning behind what the men were saying. The lines of her hard life deepened on her face. Like me, she knew this conversation was not about scaring her off or roughing her up. This was about men who were planning to kill her, to treat her like a helpless animal, abused and then thrown away. They wanted to send a message to any woman who might follow in her footsteps by working at the mine: Don’t even think about it.

When the tape ended, Sandra nervously peeled the wrapper away from the cigarette and let the tobacco fall to the floor.

“Remember what I told you?” she said, eyeing me. “These people are evil.”

“I remember.”

“Did Ruby know?” she asked me.

I didn’t answer, but she read the truth in my silence. She curled her lip with disgust as if she were chewing on something foul. “Ruby may be the worst of all, you know. The others were men. I expect that shit from them. But Ruby lied to protect them, even knowing what they did. She threw me and all the other women to the wolves.”

Darrell put his hands on his knees and adopted a fatherly tone. “Sandra, it’s clear that Brink intended to do you harm. He said you would regret turning down the money. In light of this tape, that was obviously a threat. Did he tell you that your life was in danger if you didn’t quit the mine?”

“No. He didn’t say anything like that. I just figured the harassment would get worse, and the mine wouldn’t do shit to stop it. I was right.”

Darrell eased back in the chair and stared at her, letting the silence draw out in the trailer. Although there was really no silence around us. The ground vibrated. The metal walls shook. Men shouted. Engines rumbled. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, as if my brain could block everything out. It was cold in here, but sweat poured down my face. A spike drove through my back, or at least, that was what it felt like to me.

“You know what I think?” Darrell asked.

He used that calm voice I’d heard many times, the voice that lulled a suspect into confessing everything. Tell them a story. Use a few little bits of evidence to tie everything together, and hope they didn’t realize that he couldn’t prove anything he was saying.

Sandra shrugged. “Tell me. I can’t wait.”