Some were okay with it. In some circles prison time is viewed as a badge of honor.

  But others decided it wasn’t what they signed up for. Others decided it was better to snitch. To name names in exchange for lighter sentences. Or for deportation back to Mexico, where they’d spend the rest of their lives running from the cartel. The cartels didn’t like snitches at all.

  Over the course of a few weeks, arrest warrants would be issued against more than two dozen drug kingpins. A few were known to be in the United States, but most were in Mexico. And so began the long and painful process of extraditing the kingpins for trial.

  Few would ever set foot on American soil. The Mexican judicial system was too corrupt for anyone with any pull or money to be extradited. Only those the Mexican judges had vendettas against, or those whose judges were in the pockets of rival cartels would be sent back for trial.

  If, of course, their own cartels didn’t take them out before their extradition to keep them from becoming snitches as well.

  Truth be known, the Belton bust wouldn’t shut down any of the Mexican drug trade. It stung, in the same way a bee sting might cause one to curse and swear bloody revenge against the tiny creatures.

  But the Belton operation was merely a single cog in a giant machine. Its takedown was but a small burp to the process. Nothing more.

  The Belton bust would, unfortunately, do no permanent damage to the Mexican drug trade.

  The junkies, on the other hand, felt the pain.

  The price of a gram of crystal meth in northern and west Texas jumped from seventy dollars to three hundred overnight. And the ice that was available was cut so much it was almost worthless.

  It was quite literally more artificial sweetener and crushed rock salt than dope.

  On the face of it, that should have brought smiles to the faces of those in law enforcement whose job it was to eliminate illegal drugs from the streets of Lubbock, Amarillo, and a dozen other towns.

  Chapter 32

  And it did help. A little.

  Word got out that crystal meth was now very hard to come by. That the higher price was appropriate, because traffickers had to drive it in from Denver, or set up small labs themselves and cook their own.

  Word also got around that it would be that way for at least several months, until the cartels managed to set up another lab similar to the one at Belton and get it up and running.

  Nobody wanted to wait that long. And nobody wanted to pay three hundred dollars for a gram of dope that had very little dope in it.

  Some of the more mobile junkies simply left Texas and went elsewhere. Texas law officers were happy about that, but they weren’t welcomed in Oklahoma City, or Albuquerque or Denver, or wherever they wound up.

  The bust drove some of the hardcore junkies in to seek medical treatment. To finally throw in the towel and admit they had a problem and to try to get off the ice. Some of them would succeed. Some would find abstinence more painful than they’d realized, and would wash out of the program.

  Casual users, the one with no monkey on their backs, simply walked away from it. Or turned to something that was easier to get. Marijuana prices in Lubbock and Amarillo went up as demand increased.

  Crime in the two cities most impacted by the Belton bust decreased, but not as much as it was hoped. Property crime like burglaries pretty much stayed the same. There were fewer meth users who needed to steal from day to day to feed their habits, sure.

  But those who remained had to pay a lot more for their dope, and therefore had to steal more than they’d stolen in the past.

  In the end it was a victory for law enforcement and a minor setback for the cartels. Chief Bennett spent three days in lockup, protected from two other inmates who understandably didn’t think much of the man who’d put them behind bars. After he made bail he no-showed his wife’s funeral, choosing instead to stay at home. Sitting on his favorite recliner with his feet propped up, he pulled out a .38 revolver and shot himself in the head.

  He didn’t leave a note explaining why, or to apologize to his children for leaving a big mess for them to clean up.

  But everyone knew why he did it.

  Some of the hardest time in the Texas penitentiary system is as a cop gone bad. They are targeted by other inmates and are usually segregated from the rest of the prison population for twenty three hours of each and every day. Their food is spat in or tainted with all manner of other disgusting things.

  Those who tire of being in solitary confinement are allowed to request reassignment to general population, but they do so at their own risk. They exchange the loneliness of a single-man cell for having to watch their backs twenty four-seven. It’s a given that at some point, sometimes toward the end of their prison term, they’ll be stabbed in the back with a homemade shank or beaten to unconsciousness by a prison gang who dislikes cops.

  One of the bright spots in the Belton takedown was the day Randy and Tom paid a visit to the tiny diner on Highway 87 and asked for Janice.

  “Remember us?”

  “Sure. You’re those two bounty hunters who turned out to be Texas Rangers instead.”

  “Are you mad at us for deceiving you?”

  “Are you kidding? I never told you that my oldest grandson had been hanging around with a bunch of meth users. It was only a matter of time before he tried it. Now it’s damn near impossible to get in Belton, and he doesn’t have a car to drive to Amarillo or Lubbock to get it. So now I can sleep just a little bit easier. All I have to worry about is him getting involved in a gang or shoplifting or getting his girlfriend pregnant or dropping out of high school. The usual things that keep a single parent up at night. But at least now there’s one less thing on that list, so thank you guys for that.”

  “How’s the car running these days?”

  “It’s in the shop. Again. I finally saved enough tips to get the radiator replaced. Now the transmission is out. I hate cars. Sometimes I wish we’d go back to the days of riding horses. If your horse broke down all you had to do was shoot it and steal somebody else’s.”

  Tom got a sour look on his face and she laughed.

  “Just kidding, fellas. I wouldn’t want you guys coming after me. Hey, are you here for breakfast? Sit in one of the booths and I’ll bring you some menus.”

  Randy said, “No. Actually, ma’am, we just stopped off to give you something.”

  She didn’t skip a beat.

  “If it’s an engagement ring, I’ll pass. I’ve been married twice, and how I managed to find the two biggest losers in the state of Texas is beyond me. But I’ve given up on marriage. So as handsome and charming as you two guys are, I’ll have to pass. Sorry.”

  Randy countered, “No rings today. But this may help fix your transportation problem.”

  He held out a check in front of him. A check for thirty thousand dollars, made out to Janice Ramirez.

  Tom reached out and grabbed her arm to steady her. She looked ready to pass out.

  And she lost her voice for a few seconds.

  Finally, she managed a few words.

  “Why? And how?”

  “You’ve probably never heard of the seizure and reward fund. Most people haven’t. The Texas legislature decreed a few years back that all property seized in drug busts like the one here in Belton became the property of the State of Texas. The ranch house, the money in it, all vehicles attached to the operation. It’s a way of making the drug cartels help pay for their own demise.

  “As part of the legislation, up to ten percent of the cash seized goes into a fund to reward good citizens who helped bring the operation to light. There are several others who provided tips as to what was going on, and we submitted your name as well. We hope you don’t mind.”

  Janice didn’t know what to say.

  “But… but…”

  Then she found two words that said it all.

  “Thank you.”

  “You don’t have to thank us. You pointed out our suspects and the vehicle they drove. You didn’t know you were helping out the Texas Rangers on a police corruption case, but it still counts.”

  She got teary-eyed.

  “I honestly don’t know what to say. Would you sit down and have some breakfast? It’s on me this time. And I’ll make sure it’s the best breakfast you’ve ever had, even if I have to go back there and shove Lenny away from the grill and make it myself.”

  Randy looked at Tom and asked, “Are you in any big hurry to get back to Lubbock and ask the major for our next assignment?”

  “I’m never in any hurry to see the major, no matter what we’re asking him.”

  Randy turned back to Janice and said, “Count us in.”

  Chapter 33

  Randy knocked on the wall next to their commanding officer’s door.

  Major Shultz looked up from a stack of papers he was reading and said, “Come in, you two.”

  “Good morning, sir. We just wanted to give you an update on the Belton case.”

  “Good. Sit down, men. Bring me up to speed.”

  “Most of the local suspects have bonded out of jail. The Mexican nationals among them are being held without bail, as is one Jesse Ortiz, who it turns out is wanted for a triple murder in northern California.”

  Shultz raised his eyebrows.

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. The FBI says they think he’s an enforcer for the cartel. The three victims in California were manufacturers in one of their meth labs who turned state’s evidence and were targeted as snitches. The feds think it’s a new tactic for the cartel. To place an enforcer in their midst to take out anyone who gets disgruntled or sloppy, or who hints he might snitch at some point.”

  “Well, that’s a troubling turn of events. But it didn’t seem to work in this case, did it?”

  “Apparently not. They apparently didn’t make him. Several of them are competing with the district attorney to cut deals. They’re naming big names.”

  “Yeah. Too bad all the really big names are south of the border and untouchable. But we’ll get a lot of the medium sized fish and slow them down a bit.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Any loose ends that need to be tied up?”

  “No sir. The state’s attorney said they’ll let us know about trial dates a few weeks out so we can plan for them. We handed out reward checks to four confidential informants this morning and made some people very happy. As of now, we’re considering this one closed and ready for a new assignment.”

  “I’ll tell you what, boys. I don’t like either one of you. You know that. There’s just something about you that makes my skin crawl. But I’d be one heartless commander indeed if I gave you a new case on a Friday morning. How about you take the rest of the day off and go fishing or something? I’ll have a new case on your desks first thing Monday morning.”

  Randy looked at Tom and shrugged his shoulders. Tom said, “Sounds good to us, and thanks, boss. See you Monday.”

  They made it almost to the door when Shultz stopped them.

  “Hey Tom?”

  “Yes sir?”

  “How’s that riding project coming?”

  Tom rolled his eyes.

  “Just fine, sir. I’m practically ready for the next rodeo.”

  Shultz turned to Randy.

  “Is that true?”

  Randy hesitated.

  “Well? As his riding instructor it’s your responsibility to give me an honest assessment.”

  “Well, sir…. Let’s just say he hasn’t fallen off his horse for the last two lessons. So that’s a big improvement for him.”

  Tom winced.

  The major smiled.

  “That’s good. Real good. I signed you both up for the Northern Division’s mounted regiment. You’ll be riding in the city’s Fourth of July parade down Broadway each year. All decked out in your dress uniforms, looking as spiffy as you can be.”

  He turned his head and eyed Tom.

  “Don’t embarrass the Rangers by falling off your horse during the parade, Tom. Or next year you’ll be on foot, following the horses with a big pooper scooper.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Randy chuckled.

  “Maybe instead of taking the rest of the day off we should hit the stables.”

  Tom said, “Peachy. Just peachy.”

  Chapter 34

  The Rangers had lunch at a local barbeque grill and then rode until the sun started to dip into the western sky.

  “I’ve traveled all over the world,” Tom told his friend. “I was a military brat. My dad was in the Air Force. I lived in Europe and in Korea and in five different states before he retired here in Texas. In all the places I’ve been in my life I’ve never seen any sunsets as pretty as the ones in Texas.”

  “No doubt. Let’s get the gear put away and brush them down.”

  “That won’t take but an hour or so. The night’s still young. You want to go clubbing? I know you don’t drink, but I do. Maybe we can meet a couple of girls and get lucky.”

  Randy rolled his eyes. It was an old story. His friends were always inviting him to go along so he could be their designated driver. That enabled them to get sloshed and not have to worry about making it home safely. They knew that Randy had their backs.

  He didn’t mind, necessarily. He enjoyed cutting back and having a drink or two sometimes too. Even if his drink of choice was Dr. Pepper with peanuts.

  “I would, Tom. But I told the major I’d spend a night in the office this weekend. So I can tell him once and for all whether the ghost of Henry Jenkins really haunts the place. I was going to run by my apartment and get a good book to read and then hang out there tonight.”

  “I’ll tell you what, Randy. I’ve been kind of curious about the whole ghost story nonsense myself. I’ll make a deal with you. No self-respecting ghost comes out until midnight. Everybody knows that. Let’s hit a couple of bars and then cut out at eleven. That’ll give us time to gear up and make it to the office by midnight.”

  “So you’re going to spend the night there too?”

  “Sure. Wouldn’t want you to go up against that big bad spooky ghost yourself. We’re partners, after all. If you have my back at the clubs, I’ll have your back at the office. Fair enough?”

  Randy thought for a minute.

  He wasn’t afraid of any ghosts he expected to encounter during the night. But being alone in the office for the whole night would get a bit boring without someone else to talk to. It would be a lot easier to stay awake all night with someone to keep him company.

  “Okay. Deal. But what did you mean, gear up?”

  “You know. You get your book, and I get my video games.”

  “Oh. Of course.”

  The two parted ways and made plans for Randy to pick Tom up around eight p.m.

  Randy’s role was to enjoy the company of his friends and play chauffeur. He had no qualms about it, but his role left no say so regarding where they went or how long they’d stay there. He’d leave that up to Tom.

  They started out at a local diner called the Mean Woman Grill. Randy was a bit leery at first, given the name. But Tom was quick to reassure him.

  “Best food in ten counties, bar none,” he said. “Try their chicken fried steak. It’s hand chopped, hand breaded, and fried in a skillet. Just like your mama used to make. It doesn’t come out of a white box, pre-cooked and frozen, like other places do it. Try it. If you don’t like it, it’s on me.”

  “It’s on you anyway, Tom. I bought lunch, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah. Anyway, if it seems the building is shaped funny it’s because it used to be a 7-Eleven. I lived over there on 6th Street when I was little and my dad was stationed at the base here. I used to walk here to spend my pennies and nickels on candy bars. Anyway, they closed it down for awhile, and then these folks bought it, knocked out the west wall and expanded it, and made a restaurant out of it. Like I said, best food in twenty counties.”

  “You said ten counties a minute ago.”

  “Yeah, well, their reputation is growing even as we speak.”

  But Randy didn’t hear him. Randy was watching one of the prettiest women he’d seen since he came to Lubbock. She was on a small stage in the corner of the restaurant, strumming on an electric acoustic guitar and singing a love song.

  “Tom, who is that?”

  “That’s Jenni Dale Lord. She plays here a couple of times a month. She’s the other best reason to come here.”

  “She’s gorgeous. And she sings… she’s just amazing.”

  “Right on both accounts, my friend. It’s okay to be smitten by her. Everybody falls for her. But don’t you try to go marry her or anything. She’s gonna marry me. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

  “Marry you? Have you asked her?”

  “Oh, yeah. At least twenty times. She keeps telling me no. But I’ll wear her down, you wait and see. Someday she’s gonna be playing on tour in all the big venues, all over the world. And I’ll be along as her husband and unofficial tour manager and t-shirt counter.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got it bad for her.”

  “Well, like I said, a lot of us do. But she’ll marry me someday, you’ll see.”

  “Can I help you?”

  Randy looked up to see a pretty young waitress, order book in hand.

  “Hi. My friend here says I have to try your chicken fried steak. Medium rare, extra gravy. With all the trimmings.”

  “And to drink?”

  “Dr. Pepper, in the bottle. With peanuts if you have any.”

  She didn’t bat an eye. Must be a local girl, he suspected.

  “And for you, sir?”

  “Your green chili cheeseburger, side of Fritos. And a Bud Light, no peanuts.”

  She smiled and said, “Coming right up,” then disappeared.

  Randy said, “Wait a minute. You went on and on about the chicken fried steak. And then you didn’t even get it. How come?”

  “Because I couldn’t decide between it and my second favorite thing on the menu, the green chili cheeseburger. This way I can have the burger, and still have whatever steak you have left on your plate.”

 

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