It's a cold January morning in West Valley City, two weeks after Christmas. In a creaky house on Christie Avenue, Jesus Hernandez is just getting up. He rises from his sagging bed, where his wife and three children are cuddled close to keep warm, and walks quietly across the room, careful not to wake them.

He lights a tin camping stove, the only source of heat in his house, and warms his hands above the small blue flame. In the dim light, he opens the Book of Mormon.

He used to read a lot more, back when he was a missionary in Philadelphia. Now he hardly goes to church. His faith is failing him.

For most of November, Jesus worked for a stucco contractor in Lehi, long hours in the freezing cold. Every paycheck bounced. The same with his dad, and 18 others, all of them Hispanic, all of them in the United States illegally.

It happens all the time — the exploitation of undocumented workers. Too much, Jesus thinks. He's seen the crowds that gather outside the dingy offices of the Mexican Consulate in Salt Lake City, seeking help. He did as much. His complaint was forwarded to the Utah Labor Commission's anti-discrimination division. For a month, he has awaited their response, and his patience is wearing thin. Today he will call them.

He trudges outside, through ankle-deep snow, to start his wife's car and scrape the ice from her windshield. He helps with breakfast, dresses the girls, and then he nervously makes the call. It is as he feared — his employer, Prestige Exteriors of Salt Lake City, will not pay the $1,346 it owes him. He hangs up, furious.

He drives his youngest to school and watches her scamper across the playground. Then, sitting there in his beat-up black Pontiac, he makes a decision he will regret for the rest of his life. He drives to his parents' house in Taylorsville, picks up a gun, and puts it under his seat. The rest is a blur.

There are more than 8 million people like Jesus Hernandez in the United States: Hispanic immigrants living here illegally. About 85,000 live in Utah, according to the Pew Hispanic Center.

They generally come from Mexico, cross a porous border, and begin working days after arrival. Finding work is easy. Sometimes, as Jesus Hernandez found out, getting paid is not.

"Hispanic workers are being taken advantage of," said Tony Yapias, former director of the Utah Office of Hispanic Affairs. "And the state is letting employers get away with it."

The Utah Labor Commission's anti-discrimination division receives about 2,000 wage claims a year. In 2004, $3.2 million in lost wages was reported.