In El Paso, Cross comes out to meet Ruiz, whom she's kept waiting in reception. She says email would have been quicker. "But not as pleasant," he says. Good lord, man, pleasant for whom? He holds up a white paper bag, saying he brought her breakfast. "Where's the file?" she demands, ignoring the peace offering. He gives her both an indulgent smile and the folder tucked under his arm. She starts to head back inside with it, and when he makes to follow her, she asks where she's going. "With you," he says. "Why?" she asks. "Because you've got my file," he says. She says there's going to be a task force, according to her boss, and asks if he's sure he wants in. "Christina Fuentes was found six blocks away from my house, so yes," he says before the desk officer buzzes them in. I hope the blocks in Juarez are really long.
Cross leads Ruiz into the department that she calls "CAP. Crimes Against Persons? We do Homicides." Homicide sounds cooler, if you ask me. It's not like there was ever an acclaimed series called CAP: Life on the Street. She leaves him with Kitty at the front desk to issue him a day pass. In explaining to Kitty who he is and why he's there, Ruiz lapses into Spanish, assuming from her Latina appearance and her nameplate that she's probably fluent, but she cuts him off. "Born and raised in El Paso, don't speak a word," she says. In English, he repeats that he'll be "assisting" Detective Cross. "That should be interesting," Kitty mutters dryly. Asked for clarification, she understates, "Sonya's an interesting gal." "I noticed," Ruiz agrees (and here the italics represent emphasis rather than subtitled Spanish, just to be clear), while Cross sits at her desk with her back to them pretending not to listen, which would be more convincing were she pretending to do anything else, which she's not. Ruiz ends up giving Kitty the bag of Mexican pastries (so she's clearly fluent in Spanish-language snacking, despite protesting that she's on a diet) and has a badge clipped to his jacket a moment later.
He heads over to Cross's desk and paces behind her while she reads the file, offering to translate (which she doesn't need, apparently being fluent herself) and generally making her nervous. She asks him if he can sit, which he says he can't, so when she insists that he's "irritating" her, he agrees to stand still. She asks what's up with him, so he ruefully explains to about his recent vasectomy. "I already have three children. Two marriages. It was time." Well, at least now they have something in common: both of them have a few wires down. He tries to pursue the subject as to whether she has children (she doesn't), only to have it changed back on him as she accusatorily observes from the file, "Evidence was collected but never processed." That gets him pacing again, so she snaps impatiently, "You drove here, right? Pretend that chair is a car." Ruiz manages it, but he can't answer her question as to how the victim was killed or why there were no interviews, including with the victim's parents. He offers her a local saying in Spanish, which he translates to "From the bowl to the mouth, soup falls." "What does that have to do with this?" Cross asks. Ruiz tells her about the 250 girls who went missing in Juarez last year, all the same age and type. "So you have a serial killer," Cross concludes. Ruiz says no one knows. "There are just... too many." What happened to "six blocks from my house?" Ruiz adds that the chiefs don't want investigations anyway. "Easier that way." Yeah, sounds like the easiest job in the world.