A year ago in tiny Ingram, Texas, a local police officer named Jaron Alexander responded to a noise complaint—a baptism party, it turned out, held by Joanna Martinez and her extended family. Shortly after, Alexander began working in tandem with US Immigration and Customs Enforcement, in an arrangement that has recently doubled the number of local police working with ICE. Within months, six people who attended Martinez’s party had been detained and deported, or else had fled from Ingram. Francesca D’Annunzio and McKenzie Funk grant impressive access to a local cop whose decision to work with ICE has transformed a small town into a claustrophobic nightmare, upending the local economy and fracturing countless relationships.

One family notarized guardianship papers, in case the parents were detained and the children left behind. One woman swore Alexander showed up outside a memorial service and asked people for IDs. Another woman said he detained her and her husband when they returned home from church. Parties dwindled. Invite lists shrank. People began to move away, to Kerrville and San Antonio, and Alexander’s reputation reached as far as La Ceja, a village in the mountains of central Mexico, where an elderly resident said he and his neighbors were familiar with the Texas town’s police. “El Charger negro,” he said, with a knowing nod. He estimated that some 20 or 30 people in the village were recent deportees from Ingram.

Alexander’s fortunes seemed to rise as the Martinez family’s fell. With her husband gone, Joanna Martinez couldn’t afford payments on the trailer they shared. She and their infant and her 4-year-old son moved back into her childhood bedroom in her mother’s crowded home, where several relatives and their children also lived. She tried to stay connected with her husband, Macias, via WhatsApp calls while working as much as she could as a house cleaner to keep afloat. “I can’t lock myself up in my room and just cry,” Martinez says.

More investigative features from ProPublica

We’re Reporters, Not Teachers. We Were Able to Start Private Schools Anyway.

Jennifer Smith Richards, Jodi S. Cohen, and Jennifer Berry Hawes; Milo Strain; Henry Culvyhouse; and Carli Brosseau | ProPublica, in partnership with Arkansas Times, Mountain State Spotlight, and The Assembly | October 2, 2026 | 2,924 words

“Our reporting has shown how easily people—some with questionable backgrounds—have founded their own private schools in barns, strip malls and other places. That led us to an experiment: If the hurdles to open a school are so low, could we do it?”

The Dominican Baseball Factory

Gus Garcia-Roberts | ProPublica | September 10, 2026 | 9,378 words

“Teams make handshake deals with players as young as 11 while moneylenders prey on their families. The industry is corrupt, but Major League Baseball and the players union have done little about it.”

“That Guy is Still Out There”

Joaquin Sapien | ProPublica | June 30, 2026 | 10,833 words

“Five years after Anthony Broadwater was belatedly cleared for the sexual assault of Alice Sebold, the questions of how he came to be wrongly convicted and how one or more serial rapists operated for years with little consequence have only deepened.”