Rolando Perez Samayoa fled violence in Mexico in 2023, hoping to find refuge in Illinois after being told it was a sanctuary state where local law enforcement would not assist federal deportation efforts. He found work cleaning a factory in southern Illinois, but a DUI arrest in Marion County last October set off a chain of events that would tear his family apart. After attending his court hearings as required, an assistant state’s attorney in the office prosecuting his case emailed a Homeland Security Investigations agent with his date of birth, upcoming court date, and home address in Centralia. Within weeks, federal agents apprehended Samayoa outside his home—and took his 17-year-old son as well. That exchange is one of dozens uncovered by Injustice Watch that reveal how Illinois prosecutors have been feeding sensitive data to Immigration and Customs Enforcement, despite the state’s landmark 2017 TRUST Act designed to limit such collaboration.
Illinois Prosecutors Feed ICE Data Through Covert Channels in Sanctuary State
The investigation, which involved Freedom of Information Act requests to all 102 Illinois state’s attorney’s offices, found that prosecutors in one out of every six Illinois counties acted as valuable assets for federal immigration enforcement during the first 15 months of President Donald Trump’s second term. The collaboration spanned party lines and included everyone from paralegals to elected state’s attorneys, occurring largely without the knowledge of defendants or their attorneys. The emails obtained by Injustice Watch contain far more than names: photographs, home addresses, and even the precise date and time a defendant was due in court or set to leave jail—essentially providing a window for ICE to make an arrest.
What is most striking is that this pattern of cooperation happened in a state widely regarded as a national model for immigrant protections. The TRUST Act explicitly bars police and other local law enforcement agencies from helping federal agents deport people absent a federal criminal warrant. But the law does not squarely answer whether prosecutors and their staff are bound by those same restrictions, creating a legal gray zone that has been exploited by both prosecutors and federal agents.
How the TRUST Act Was Meant to Protect Immigrants — and Where It Falls Short
Illinois passed the TRUST Act in 2017, a response to the first Trump administration’s aggressive immigration enforcement. The law prohibits state and local law enforcement agencies from detaining individuals based solely on immigration status, from responding to ICE detainer requests without a judicial warrant, and from allowing federal immigration agents access to individuals in custody without a warrant. The stated goal was to ensure that local police could focus on public safety without becoming entangled in civil immigration enforcement, and to foster trust between immigrant communities and law enforcement.
The law, however, was written with a specific focus on law enforcement agencies — police departments, sheriff’s offices, and similar entities. County prosecutors’ offices, which are independent elected bodies, were not explicitly named in the statute. This omission has become a critical loophole. Injustice Watch’s reporting shows that state’s attorneys in counties across Illinois have interpreted their role as outside the TRUST Act’s scope, sharing information with ICE that law enforcement officers would be prohibited from sharing.
The practical effect is clear: a DUI arrest in Marion County, which should have been a routine criminal matter, turned into a deportation proceeding. Samayoa had appeared for his hearings, complied with court orders, and yet found himself flagged to federal agents by the very office prosecuting him. In many cases, prosecutors volunteered information on their own; in others, they simply answered when Department of Homeland Security agents came calling.
The Scale of Collaboration: Emails, FOIA Lawsuits, and Silent Offices
Injustice Watch filed open records requests with all 102 state’s attorney offices in Illinois, seeking emails and other records of communication with ICE or Homeland Security Investigations. The responses painted a fragmented picture. Eleven offices did not respond at all. Some produced records only after Injustice Watch sued them under the Illinois Freedom of Information Act, and several cases remain in litigation. The documents that were produced — internal emails and case files totaling more than 5,000 pages — reveal a network of informal cooperation that operated below the radar of legislative oversight.
The email exchange involving Rolando Perez Samayoa is emblematic. On January 28, 2025, Assistant State’s Attorney John Christeson emailed Homeland Security Investigations Agent Sergio Fulgencio with basic details about Samayoa. “Ok, we’ll take care of it, thank you,” Fulgencio replied within minutes. Two days later, he followed up: “Do you have any reports on this guy?” Christeson promptly sent the police report and related tickets. Three weeks later, ICE agents showed up at Samayoa’s home, arresting him and his son. The son, a minor, was also detained — a consequence that even the most aggressive immigration enforcement policies often try to avoid.
Other emails reviewed by Injustice Watch show a similar pattern. In some cases, prosecutors proactively sent lists of defendants with Latino surnames or immigration-related flags. In others, they provided jail release dates, allowing ICE to make arrests at the courthouse door. The written record, moreover, is likely only a partial view. Messages that include phrases like “Thank you for taking my call” suggest phone conversations that no FOIA request could capture.
What Is the Legal Basis for Prosecutors Sharing Data with ICE?
The central legal question is whether the TRUST Act applies to prosecutors. The statute defines “law enforcement agency” as any “state, county, or municipal law enforcement agency, including the Illinois State Police, a county sheriff’s office, a municipal police department, and any other agency that employs peace officers.” Prosecutors’ offices are not listed, and they do not typically employ peace officers in the same capacity as police departments. But they do possess sensitive information about defendants — information that, when shared with ICE, can lead directly to deportation without any additional criminal proceeding.
Immigration law is civil, not criminal, so the Fourth Amendment’s warrant requirement does not apply in the same way to ICE enforcement actions. However, state laws like the TRUST Act were intended to create a firewall between local criminal justice systems and federal immigration enforcement. Prosecutors sharing data arguably undermines that firewall. Some legal experts argue that prosecutors are part of the criminal justice system and therefore should be bound by the same restrictions as police. Others contend that the omission was intentional, leaving prosecutors free to cooperate with federal authorities as they see fit.
The practical consequence is that the TRUST Act has been rendered partially ineffective. While police and sheriffs in most Illinois counties have stopped honoring ICE detainers or handing over individuals without warrants, prosecutors can accomplish the same result by simply sending an email. The defendant may never know that his information was shared until ICE agents appear.
John Christeson, the assistant state’s attorney in the Samayoa case, did not respond to requests for comment. The Marion County State’s Attorney’s Office issued a statement saying it follows all applicable laws and that its prosecutors exercise discretion on a case-by-case basis. But the data shows the pattern is far from isolated.
Which Illinois Counties Cooperated with ICE — and Which Did Not
The investigation reveals a geographic patchwork. Among the 102 counties, the 16 where prosecutors had documented contact with ICE include both rural and suburban jurisdictions, and the cooperation crossed party lines. Some state’s attorneys are Democrats, others Republicans. The common thread appears to be either a policy of cooperation or the absence of any policy restricting such contact. In contrast, dozens of counties told Injustice Watch they had no record of any communication with ICE, and at least one state’s attorney explicitly issued a directive prohibiting any information sharing with federal immigration authorities without a warrant.
Cook County, which includes Chicago and is home to a large immigrant population, did not appear in the emails obtained — but its state’s attorney’s office said it does not proactively share data with ICE and only responds to lawful subpoenas. The contrast highlights that every act of collaboration was a choice. Prosecutors in one county can decide to cooperate; those in another can decide not to. The absence of clear state-level guidance from the Illinois Attorney General or the General Assembly has left the decision entirely to local elected officials.
Consequences for Immigrant Communities: Families Torn Apart
The material impact of these email exchanges is severe. People flagged to ICE are detained and often deported, tearing families apart. In Samayoa’s case, his son was also taken — a 17-year-old who had been living with his father and attending high school. The detention of a minor along with an adult is not routine in immigration enforcement, but it has been observed in cases where ICE agents find family members present at the arrest site.
Immigrant advocates in Illinois argue that the collaboration undermines the very purpose of sanctuary laws. “When you have a prosecutor sharing information about a defendant who has appeared for all their court dates, you are turning the criminal justice system into a deportation pipeline,” one advocate said. “People will stop trusting the courts. They will stop reporting crimes. And public safety will suffer.”
There is also a due process concern. Defendants have a right to know what information their prosecutors are sharing and with whom. Without transparency, a person might be deported without ever knowing that their own prosecutor handed over the data that led to their arrest.
The Broader National Context: Sanctuary States and Federal Pressure
Illinois is not alone in facing this tension. Since President Trump took office for the second time, his administration has dramatically increased immigration enforcement, including visible ICE presence at worksites, front yards, and even courthouses. In response, states like New York have joined Illinois and more than a dozen others in barring local police and sheriffs from helping with federal immigration enforcement. Yet nowhere has the question of prosecutor collaboration been fully resolved.
New York’s sanctuary laws, for instance, similarly restrict state and local agencies from complying with ICE detainers, but do not explicitly cover district attorneys. A similar pattern of informal cooperation could exist there. The Illinois case, because of the depth of the investigation by Injustice Watch, offers a rare window into how prosecutors operate in the shadows of sanctuary laws — and raises the question of whether legislative fixes are needed to close the loophole.
The Department of Homeland Security has made clear that it will aggressively pursue any cooperation it can get. Emails from federal agents show they frequently ask for more information — “Do you have any reports on this guy?” — and follow up with phone calls. The relationship is symbiotic: prosecutors may view cooperation as a way to remove individuals they believe are a threat, while ICE gains access to data it could not obtain through standard police channels.
How the Data Was Collected: FOIA Requests and Legal Battles
Injustice Watch’s methodology was exhaustive. The nonprofit newsroom sent FOIA requests to every state’s attorney’s office in Illinois, asking for any communications with ICE or Homeland Security Investigations between January 20, 2025 (the start of Trump’s second term) and April 20, 2026. The responses varied widely. Some offices produced no records; others claimed they had no such communications. But when Injustice Watch sued several offices under FOIA, those offices began producing emails — suggesting that initial denials were not always accurate.
The litigation remains ongoing for some counties. The records that have been obtained, however, are sufficient to demonstrate a systemic pattern. The emails were often sent from official government email accounts, with prosecutors using their own names and titles. There was no indication that the prosecutors believed they were doing anything improper. One email even included a note from a paralegal: “Just wanted to pass along this info per your request.”
The lack of a formal policy in many counties means that individual prosecutors can decide on their own whether to cooperate. That creates a risk of inconsistency and unfairness: two defendants with the same criminal charges could face very different outcomes depending on which prosecutor handles their case.
What the TRUST Act Does Not Cover: The Loophole That Enables Cooperation
The Illinois TRUST Act is widely considered one of the strongest state-level immigrant protections in the country. It prohibits: (1) requesting immigration status information, (2) detaining, arresting, or searching someone solely based on immigration status, (3) cooperating with ICE detainers without a judicial warrant, and (4) allowing ICE access to individuals in custody without a warrant. It also requires that individuals be released from custody when they would otherwise be entitled to release, regardless of any ICE hold.
But the law says nothing about sharing information. A police officer cannot proactively hand over a suspect’s address to ICE; a prosecutor can. The law also does not address the sharing of court dates or jail release schedules. This gap exists because the law was drafted in the context of police-citizen interactions, not prosecutor-prosecutor communications. As a result, prosecutors can serve as a back channel for ICE to identify and arrest individuals without ever needing to involve local law enforcement.
Some state legislators have proposed amendments to the TRUST Act that would extend its restrictions to prosecutors, but those efforts have stalled. The Illinois State’s Attorneys Association has argued that prosecutors have a duty to share relevant information with federal authorities in the interest of public safety. The tension between local autonomy and statewide immigrant protections is unlikely to be resolved soon.
Practical Implications for Immigrants in Illinois
For immigrants living in Illinois, the investigation provides a stark warning: a sanctuary designation does not guarantee safety from deportation if you become involved in the criminal justice system. Even minor offenses like a DUI can trigger a chain of information sharing that leads to ICE detention. The key factors appear to be the specific county in which the case is prosecuted and the discretion of the individual prosecutor. Some counties are “safe”; others are not.
Defense attorneys in Illinois are beginning to adjust their practices. Some now advise clients with immigration concerns to avoid any interaction with the criminal justice system if possible. Others are filing motions to discover whether prosecutors have communicated with ICE, though such discovery is difficult without a FOIA request. The lack of transparency means many defendants will never know the full story.
The findings also have implications for the broader debate over immigration enforcement in sanctuary jurisdictions. If the legislative solution is to close the prosecutor loophole, then states like New York and California may need to revisit their own laws. If the solution is left to the courts, then litigation will become a powerful tool for immigrant rights groups. Either way, the status quo — where prosecutors can decide unilaterally to feed ICE data — is likely to face increasing scrutiny.
The story of Rolando Perez Samayoa is a human illustration of a systemic problem. He came to Illinois believing the law would protect him. Instead, the very prosecutor handling his case handed over the information that led to his arrest and that of his son. The TRUST Act was supposed to prevent this. The emails tell a different story — one of a sanctuary state that, in practice, has not fully lived up to its promise. The remedy, whether through legislation, litigation, or policy change, will require acknowledging that the law’s reach is only as strong as its least regulated corner.
