Ty and Stella spent a couple of hours exploring the files that Cassie downloaded from Javier Ortega's laptop. The amount of detailed information that Ortega kept was amazing.
"It was insane for Ortega to keep all this stuff on his computer," Ty remarked.
Stella nodded her head in agreement.
"It sure was. But I can see how Ortega thought he didn't have anything to worry about. After all, he had the Sheriff in his pocket and according to his contact list at least two people at the court house were keeping him informed. It looks as if the more he got away with, the more complacent he became."
"Yeah, that makes sense, it's human nature I guess," Ty concurred. "There is stuff on here that will incriminate a lot of people including a judge and a county commissioner. We need to get this thing into the right hands immediately."
"What about giving it to Steadman? He did the right thing on the raid and according to the newspaper, the county manager appointed him as interim sheriff at the request of the State's Attorney and the Ranger commander."
That was the first Ty had heard of Ernie Steadman's appointment as interim sheriff, but he thought it was a damned good choice. Ernie had a well deserved reputation for being a straight shooter. Ty dug out his personal cell phone and called Steadman. The new sheriff answered on the second ring.
"Congratulations, Sheriff Steadman," Ty said.
"I don't know whether to kill you or kiss you McGuinn. Where the hell are you anyway?" Steadman growled in greeting.
"One is as bad as the other, coming from you," Ty joked. "I'm still out of town, but we should be back next week."
"Yeah, I read where you were off in the Pacific with that big blonde drink of water ... lucky you. You tell her that I've got some vacancies here, and if she wants a job, she's got it. So to what do I owe the pleasure of this call? The last time I heard from you turned my life upside down."
Ty chuckled into the phone.
"Don't be like that Ernie, I just called to say hello and see if there has been any progress in finding whoever murdered my grandmother. I figure with Porlock in the slammer, something might actually be done about it."
"Funny you should ask that Ty," Steadman replied, "because just yesterday, one of the dancers we freed told us she overheard a couple of Barrio Azteca members talking about one of their friends that was killed by some crazy old lady with a big pistola. Unfortunately, the guy she heard talking was killed in a shoot out at Capitan Loco's the night we raided the apartment building.
"I have a strong suspicion that the Aztecas were behind Missus McGuinn's death, but proving it is going to be tough. All of those goons we arrested have lawyered up and aren't saying anything about anything. We found a crap-load of weapons when we raided the apartments, and we are running ballistics on them now. Maybe we'll get lucky and link one of them to the mess at your house."
Ty congratulated Steadman again, wished him good luck, and ended the call without mentioning the computer. Steadman would receive that evidence anonymously, so Ty wouldn't be tied to Capitan Loco's Gentlemen's Club.
Richie took Stella out to dinner, then the couple returned to the motel for the rest of the evening. While Stella took a quick shower, Ty turned on the television and tuned in to CNN to watch Lou Dobbs's financial show. When Stella walked out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a small towel and a smirk, Ty jumped up and took her place in the shower.
As Ty stepped out of the bathroom after taking a shower, Stella said, "You just missed hearing Lou Dobbs criticizing the new border fence on CNN."
Ty joined her on the bed as he asked, "So what's Lou's beef with the fence?"
"The department of homeland security is claiming 524 miles of border fence have been constructed, but in reality, 75 miles of that is the old, ineffective fence, and another 250 miles is a vehicle barrier, instead of a proper security fence."
"I heard the Coyotes use portable ramps to drive over those vehicle barriers," Ty said in disgust.
"Yeah, that's exactly what Dobbs said was happening." Stella answered. "That means only 199 miles of actual new fencing, and none of that double-layered as mandated by congress. Of the actual fencing built, most of it is non-continuous, running for a few miles, and then switching to the vehicle barriers that don't stop foot traffic. The most complete section is south of San Diego, and border crossings there have decreased by ninety-three percent."
Ty shook his head and grimaced. "That doesn't mean the illegals have stopped trying to cross the border near San Diego; all that means is that they're simply taking a little detour to cross at a less challenging spot."
"But if they would just finish putting up the new fence, wouldn't that put a stop to most of the illegal crossings?" Stella asked hopefully.
Ty shook his head.
"Maybe, but as long as the people of Mexico continue to suffer grinding poverty, and as long as the US government refuses to get serious about stopping the illegal flood, it will continue, no matter what kind of barrier we put up. As long as Uncle Sugar keeps offering them employment, free medical care, education, welfare and all the other incentives, no mere fence is going to stop all of them from sneaking in. But if the fence is built as specified and electronically monitored, it will make crossing into the US much harder, and the chance of being caught by the Border Patrol much more likely."
Stella nodded and replied, "I saw Senator Charles Schumer on the news yesterday, and he was saying that congress will soon begin work on 'immigration reform'."
"Oh God," Ty moaned, "here we go again, another amnesty scheme for millions of illegal aliens. Something is not right when our elected officials propose to reward unlawful behavior."
"Why are the Democrats hell-bent on selling our country down the river?" Stella asked.
"Whoa there, sweetheart. It's not just the Democrats who are selling us out. President Bush was doing it as well. If Senator McCain had won the election, he'd be pushing for amnesty for the illegals also."
"But why are they doing it? It makes no sense!" Stella fumed.
"The Republicans see the influx of Mexicans as a source of cheap labor for their supporters in the agro-business and construction industry, so they want to maintain the status quo.
"The Democrats, on the other hand, see these millions of illegal aliens as potential voters for the Democratic ticket. They know from election statistics that Hispanic voters vote Democrat by a wide margin. They have learned to lure poor, uneducated Hispanics with their class-envy rhetoric.
"The Republican and Democrat leadership may have different motives for wanting to allow this invasion to continue, but the end results are the same. I think the sad fact is, most of our so-called 'public servants' no longer have our nation's best interest at heart. It's ironic that the biggest development to slowing illegal emigration has been our economic woes. You'd think that would give our politician pause because it shows that becoming citizens is not the goal of most illeagals. They are here to milk the system and make some money to send home to Mexico."
Stella nodded and shot him a wicked grin as she slowly untied the knot that held the towel around her torso in place.
"Yeah, I think you hit the nail on the head," Stella replied. "But enough of that depressing line of thought. Instead, why don't you expend some of that passion on me?"
Ty's eyes bugged out when she whipped off the towel, because it was the first time he'd seen her nude with the lights on. He knew it was a big step for Stella and it was a show of her trust in him. He looked her up and down and wolf whistled. He fixed his eyes on the jagged spider web of scars around her right hip, and gently touched them with his fingertip.
"I love everything about you, Stella Woodson, even these," he said softly.
Stella's eyes filled with happy tears as she reached up and pulled him down on top of her.
They arrived at their modest duplex in Santa Fe early the next afternoon. He cranked up the air-conditioner and the two of them went grocery shopping while the apartment cooled off. They returned to the duplex an hour later and started putting away the groceries.
"What would you like for supper?" she asked.
Richie checked her out as she leaned against the refrigerator door in full Brittany mode. She was wearing the long auburn wig, and a killer short, red and black tartan plaid skirt with a tight scoop-necked red t-shirt. A lacy red bra pushed her substantial breasts up and out. He had been hot for her since she stepped out of the bathroom in that outfit back in Albuquerque.
"Let's go out and eat, then we'll find a honky-tonk and go dancing," he replied.
Brittany smiled and gave him a kiss.
"Good answer boyfriend," she said.
Richie shivered at the sexy, husky note in her voice.
"I love it when you are Brittany, and I like being Richie. I wish we could be them all the time," he said wistfully.
"Baby, Richie is really part of you, not some made up character. You've just had him buried under your sorrow and other people's expectations. Just like Brittany is a part of me I put away after college. Maybe we can't be Richie and Brittany all the time, but we owe it to ourselves to be them as often as we can."
Ty saw the logic and rightness in what she said, and filed the idea away to work on later. At the present, his mind was too full of the idea of some afternoon delight, followed by a nap, to concentrate on anything else. He gave Brittany a leer that made her eyebrows pop up. Then he lunged forward and flipped her over his shoulder and headed for the bedroom. Brittany shrieked with laughter as he stomped through the living room, grunting like a caveman.
Richie took Brittany to the Outback for supper, and then headed to a juke-joint named the Ruby Slipper. Brittany had dressed for Richie and the dancehall in a medium short denim skirt and another one of those scooped neck 'T's, this one a shiny electric blue. She also wore a pair of tall-heeled cowgirl boots and smoky thigh-highs. Every man in the crowded club noticed her, but amazing to him, the women in the club noticed Richie as well, especially after their first trip to the dance floor. Brittany was amazed at how well he danced as he two-stepped her around the floor.
"Where did you learn to dance like this, Baby? You even make me look graceful," she asked when they were side-by-side.
Richie laughed and spun her around without missing a beat.
"Abuela taught me and I practiced with Lupe all through high school. Izzy said dancing is foreplay and good dancers make good lovers. I'm a little rusty, but I guess it's like riding a bike."
Brittany was in complete agreement with Abuela by the middle of the second set when the band strung three slow numbers together.
"We need to get out of here baby, before I throw you down and have my way with you right here on the dance floor," she moaned in his ear.
An hour and a half later, she was snuggled up to his side, sweaty and satisfied, when he took their relationship to another level. It was the serious Ty part of his personality that spoke to her.
"I love you Stella," he said, "and I want to make us a permanent couple. What do you think about that?"
Stella sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. Then she swung her leg over him and sat on his midsection. She pushed her hair out of her eyes and drilled him with twin emerald lasers.
"Define permanent," she said softly.
"Till death do us part permanent. When this is all over, I am going to propose to you."
Stella never took her eyes off his as she leaned forward and kissed him fiercely. When she broke the kiss, she sat up straight.
"If it's in your heart, ask me now, Tyler McGuinn. Then we can discuss it."
He looked confused, but reached over and took her left hand in his right.
"Will you marry me, Stella Louise Woodson?"
She gave him a Madonna smile and squeezed his hand.
"I love you Ty and I want to marry you, but I have conditions. I want you to hear me out, think about it for a few days, and then if it's still in your heart, ask me ... no waiting for later, okay?"
Ty nodded, gratified that she was putting her cards on the table first.
"Okay, first thing, I want children, at least two, so if we get married, I'll be off the pill for our honeymoon. Second, I don't want to be a socialite, an occasional formal thing is okay, but I don't want to make a habit of it. Third, I'm a one man woman and I expect my husband to be a one woman man. Cheat on me, and I'll geld you without blinking an eye. Fourth, you go with me to Dallas to meet my parents and ask Daddy for my hand before you buy me a ring. And fifth, we get a prenup that excludes anything from before we marry as joint assets."
Ty's grin grew bigger with each point she made. If she was trying to scare him away, she'd certainly said all the wrong things. He didn't care for the prenuptial agreement condition, but it certainly wasn't to his disadvantage.
"I can live with all that, Stel, and I'm tickled to death that you want kids. Call your folks and we'll go see them next week."
The next day, Richie and Brittany drove down to Las Cruces and anonymously FedEx the laptop to Steadman. They taped a note card with the password on the cover and wiped the machine down with Windex to remove any finger prints before boxing it up.
Ty and Stella spent the rest of the day sorting through the files copied from Ortega's laptop, looking for information about the people above Ortega in the drug ring. They also researched open source information available on the Juarez Cartel in general, and Jorge Modena Morales in particular.
Jorge Morales, AKA Modena, lived somewhere in the Mexican State of Chihuahua. No open source knew exactly where in Chihuahua, because Morales was a wanted fugitive with over seven million dollars of reward on his head. Ironically, the latest news concerning Morales was about his recent inclusion in Forbes magazine's list of billionaires.
After exhausting what they could readily find on line, Stella suggested that they ask 'Waldo' for some help. Ty had to think about that suggestion for a minute, because he didn't want to entice Cassie or her brother Jason into doing something that would get them in trouble. He expressed his misgivings to Stella and she agreed with a caveat.
"Let's ask Waldo if there is a way we can do it our selves, that way they stay uninvolved."
Ty thought that was as good an idea as any, so they went to a Starbucks and used the free Wi-Fi. Stella called up Waldo's GetLost.com website and typed the message they concocted into the 'enter the magic word' dialog box.
Richie Salazar wants to know how to access files at the Drug Enforcement Administration.
As soon as she hit the enter key, the screen blinked and a message replaced the dialog box.
"Please enjoy the musical interlude while we process your request," it read.
Ty laughed as AC/DC's For Those about to Rock came blaring out of the laptops speakers, and Stella scrambled to turn down the volume. For her part, Stella watched incredulously as Ty folded in his ring and middle finger and gave a Texas Longhorn salute as Brian Johnson screamed out the lyrics... for those about to rock, we salute you...
"What the heck are you doing?" Stella asked in an embarrassed stage whisper.
Ty shook his head in mock sadness at his future wife's lack of cultural awareness.
"I can see right now that an AC/DC concert is in our future. Your life will never be complete until you see Angus Young wail away on his guitar live with twenty thousand other fans."
Stella looked dubious, but said, "Okay honey, whatever you say."
After a further five minutes, and in the middle of Thunderstruck, the music stopped and another message appeared on the screen.
"Check your e-mail," the message read.
Stella immediately logged into her g-mail account and opened the message waiting there. The message contained a web address titled: internal.elpaso.dea.gov, a login ID and a password. The login ID was salazarr and the password was a chuckle producing elloco69. Stella copied the link and pasted it in her browser. The web address to which the link led was the restricted use site of the El Paso field office of the DEA. After logging in, Stella typed in Mendoza's name in the search box and a dozen file names appeared in a separate window. Each file had a title and a date. Stella clicked on the latest date which was only two days ago. The file was an 'Executive Summary' from the El Paso SAC (Special Agent in Charge) to the deputy director of the DEA.
The barista was starting to give them the fish-eye for overstaying their two dollar cups of coffee, so Ty went up to the counter and ordered a couple of blueberry muffins while Stella read the file. The document summarized the drug bust made by the Texas Rangers as part of the raid on the forced prostitution ring's apartment building. Mendoza was only mentioned in passing in the report, but it was a fascinating read nonetheless, because it directly referred to the murders of Isabel McGuinn and Lupe Martinez.
When Ty brought the muffins back to the table, Stella spun the laptop toward him so he could see the screen.
"You need to read this," she said.
Ty started reading from the paragraph she pointed out.
... Major Gross, the Commander of the Ranger unit working out of El Paso, acting on a tip from a CI (confidential informant) led a raid on an apartment building owned by the Barrio Azteca prison gang. Gross stated that he developed the CI seeking information about the perpetrators of a home invasion and double murder at the residence of one of El Paso's leading families.
Unfortunately, Gross' raid to free the women being forced into prostitution also led to the seizure of a substantial amount of cocaine our office was tracking from its point of origin, thru the Modena-Morales Juarez Cartel and into El Paso. Our own CI in the Azteca gang tipped us to the shipment and told us it would be further transshipped to Chicago. When the Rangers seized the drugs, it negated a joint operation planned between this office and the Chicago field office that was designed to capture the leaders of Chicago's cocaine distribution network.
As a side note, this same DEA CI informed us the Barrio Aztecas was involved in the shooting that Major Gross and the El Paso County Sheriff are so diligently investigating, and their involvement was at the behest of Jorge Modena Morales.
Repeated requests from this office to both Gross and the interim sheriff to table their investigation and cooperate with us were flatly refused, even though the lawmen were informed that they were jeopardizing long term DEA operations.
This office believes we are close to cornering Modena-Morales, but that he will go underground again if he looses his El Paso operation. We therefore request the Acting Director of the DEA petition the Attorney General to order the Rangers and the El Paso Sheriff to turn over to us the gang members they captured during the raid, and cede to us jurisdiction for the investigation of the murders of Isabel McGuinn and Lupe Martinez until our current operations are completed...
By the time Ty finished reading the last paragraph, he was grinding his teeth in anger.
"So the DEA knows Morales ordered the Aztecas to attack my house, but they don't want anything done about it because it might mess up something they are planning. Not to mention that if they knew about the Aztecas' drug smuggling, they had to know about the women the gang was exploiting. Who the hell's side are they on anyway?"
Stella put her hand on his and Ty calmed down enough for them to keep reading.
The next file by date was an informant's report about a meeting between Morales, the heads of the other three major drug cartels, and a shadowy figure who went by the nickname Quetzalcoatl. Quetzalcoatl was supposedly the man to whom everyone else answered. The informant claimed no one knew who Quetzalcoatl was, because he always wore a mask. They also claimed the meeting was a quarterly event, and usually held somewhere down in the Mexican state of Jalisco. Appended to the report was a note that explained there were other reports alluding to the 'Gang of Four' and Quetzalcoatl. The handler of the CI rated the reliability of the report three point five out of five; a fairly high probability the report was true.
The only other file of interest was the very last one on the list, Jorge Modena Morales's personal data. The personal data file had a few pictures of Morales, including one only a couple of years old. Stella copied that file onto her laptop.
Ty and Stella were home from Starbucks and dinner at a nice Italian eatery by seven-thirty in the evening. As soon as they walked into the duplex, Ty pulled out his cell phone and called his brother Raymond. Ty and RJ yakked for a couple of minutes and agreed to meet up sometime during the following week so Ty could fill him and Tiffany in on some good news. When chit-chat and pleasantries were completed, Ty went right to the real purpose of the call.
"RJ, you need to let Lyle Gross know that the head of the DEA field office in El Paso has requested the Attorney General order him to transfer the prisoners from the apartment raids to them. They also want Gross and Steadman to put the investigation of Abuela's death on the back burner."
RJ promised he'd call Major Gross as soon as he disconnected from Ty. Both men knew that the Attorney General was going to have a tough time in prying the prisoners out of the Rangers' hands. The gangsters had broken Texas laws and they were due Texas justice.
Richie and Brittany spent the rest of the week having fun except for a short trip to the post office so Richie could apply for a passport. They went to a water park one day and played miniature golf on another. After their fun filled days, they talked and made love late into the night. They talked about everything under the sun and expressed their expectations as to how their marriage would work. They had expectations that mostly matched, but for the few that didn't, they negotiated. The conversations convinced both of them that they were making the right decision in getting married.
The talks verified to Ty that Stella Woodson was a uniquely complex and talented young woman. Learning about her was like peeling an onion, there was one layer after another to her personality. He was amazed that she chose him to fall in love with, but he didn't doubt for a second her feelings toward him. Stella was fiercely independent and driven towards making it on her own, so their marriage had to be a partnership. Ty was more than fine with that, because he didn't want a woman who depended on him to make every decision for her, but he didn't want one who expected to have her way all the time either.
Ty drove Stella over to the Enterprise rental car office on Friday afternoon so she could rent another SUV for the trip back to El Paso. After renting the SUV, Stella followed Ty to a storage company where Ty rented a unit large enough to store his little white truck. Ty was storing his truck and paying ahead on the duplex rent, so his Richie Salazar identity would remain viable in case it was needed in the future. Besides, neither Ty nor Stella was ready to let Richie disappear. Ty enjoyed his life as the gregarious handyman, and Stella thought being Richie was bringing Ty out of the shell he'd crawled into since the death of Cora Leigh.
Richie took Brittany out one last time Saturday night. When they returned from dinner and dancing, Ty shaved off the pencil-thin moustache and Stella dyed his hair back to its original light brown. He would visit a barbershop as soon as they returned to El Paso. He wouldn't miss the longer hair but he sort of liked the moustache.
Stella wrapped her arms around him from the back as he stared forlornly at his bare upper lip in the bathroom mirror.
"So grow it back Baby, only this time let's go for a fuller one. I think you'd look sexy," she teased.
They headed back to the Ranch of the Angels on Sunday, seven and a half weeks after they departed and three months after the murder of Abuela and Lupe.
It was a surprisingly happy homecoming. The ranch had been fine in their absence; Pete and Reuben had seen to that. After unpacking, Ty dragged Stella to his brother's fancy mansion and broke the news of their engagement to Raymond and Tiffany. His brother and sister-in-law were ecstatic over the news. Tiffany immediately took Stella aside to start planning the wedding, while RJ pulled out a couple of Cohiba Cuban cigars and a bottle of Crown Royal for him and Ty. RJ McGuinn was happy as hell to have his brother back.
It was fairly early on Monday morning and Veronica O'Dell was industriously typing at her computer in the anteroom outside Reuben Grave's office. This was the start of her second full week working for Graves, and she really enjoyed the job. Graves was a nice man and the work was interesting. She had sure lucked out when Richie had called his handsome cousin on her behalf. Veronica glanced up when the exterior door opened, and her eyes widened in surprise when in walked Stella and a vaguely familiar looking cowboy. Stella was wearing faded jeans, a long sleeved cotton shirt and a well worn straw Stetson. She looked every inch the cowgirl, right down to her scuffed stirrup-heeled boots and holstered pistol.
Stella smiled and greeted her.
"How's it going, Ronnie?" Stella asked.
Veronica, still shocked by the big girl's sudden appearance, finally found her voice.
"Hi Stella, what are you doing here?"
"I work here. I was on a sort of vacation when we met."
Veronica nodded, pleased with the idea that they'd be working together. Not forgetting her job, she turned to the familiar looking man and greeted him also.
"Good morning sir, I'm Veronica, Mister Graves' assistant. How can I help you?"
Ty and Stella had given some thought about seeing Veronica again, and in the end, decided that they'd share part of the truth with her. It wasn't a hard decision to make, because Ty felt he could trust Veronica, and she had been a very big help to him. He was prepared to tell her everything, except what happened at Capitan Loco's. Ty smiled and turned on his Richie voice.
"All that money I spent on you at Loco's, Ronnie, and you don't even recognize me. I'm crushed," he said teasingly.
Veronica jumped up so fast, her chair flew backwards into a filing cabinet. She dashed around her desk to jump in his arms.
"RICHIE!" she squealed. "I was hoping I would see you again to thank you."
Veronica had a million questions, but Ty held her off.
"My real name's Ty, Ronnie, so you better get used to calling me that. Anything else you want to know will have to wait for later. Right now, I've got a meeting with Pete and Reuben, but if you are free for lunch, we can catch up then."
That statement caused Veronica to have a bunch more questions, because as far as she knew, her boss's only meeting that morning was with the owner of the ranch, who had just returned from vacation.
Pete Colon and Reuben Graves briefed Ty on what he missed while he and Stella were off gallivanting around. The most noteworthy news was the permit the county finally issued for the fence Ty had designed. The only change the county insisted on was for some sort of landscaping between the fence and County Road 455, along the mile and a half section where the fence and road ran parallel. The county didn't want the tangle foot barbed wire visible from the road. Ty had no problem with the county's stipulation, so he called his old friend Rick Amar at Amar Brother's Fencing, to start the ball rolling.
After his call to Amar, Ty sat down and did a little thinking about how he would deal with Jorge Modena Morales. Morales was an elusive and cautious man, who was surrounded at all times by six very capable and efficient bodyguards. He had the money to buy the loyalty of those around him, so getting close enough to kill him was a near impossibility. That left Ty the chore of finding another way to reach out and touch the drug lord.