 
Dunn - Rescue

Rescue

BY

Jack Dunn

PART ONE

CHAPTER ONE

The blue skies and moderate temperature of the June morning were a delight. Garth who usually awakened at dawn during the summer months had been up for over two hours. He was only now thinking about making some breakfast, although he had employed the French press to satisfy his caffeine craving shortly after arising. He cherished the quiet and solitude of these early morning hours absent the clamor of man and machine that he had endured during his years in the City. The only sounds were those of the birds signaling to one another and the rustling of leaves as a light breeze passed through the tree tops.

Garth Koslof was in his early forties. A couple of inches less than six feet in height, he would never be considered a big man. While he was fit and muscular he was definitely not NFL linebacker material. He had, however, what might be called presence. When engaging in conversation, he had an intense almost intimidating way of directing his gray eyes that signaled his complete engagement with you and your observations. He had good looks and during his time as a police officer had not adopted the shaved head look of his contemporaries. To the contrary he had a mop of unruly blond hair.

Better get moving, he thought. And with that he arose from the settee, the focal point of what he liked to call the patio, at the side of the cabin. As if reluctant to leave nature's setting he took a few steps forward to where the leveled plot dropped off to the mountain slope. The view down the valley with the forested mountain sides never failed to captivate him.

I wonder if the folks that have spent their whole life in this area appreciate the natural beauty as much as I do, he mused.

Garth lived in an area known as the Endless Mountains west of Scranton, Pennsylvania. His domicile had been a hunting cabin which at some point had been enlarged by three additional rooms. The property totaled nearly fifty acres, most of which was heavily forested. It was a good retreat and fitted the circumstances that had resulted in his lifestyle.

It had been an early fall weekend when he and his partner Estelle had decided to take a long weekend away from the city and enjoy the countryside of northeastern Pennsylvania. Their primary destination had been a music and craft festival in a small town by the name of Tunkhannock . Estelle had discovered the Cornstock Festival in a tourism brochure. Garth liked the looks of the countryside, had inquired in a real estate office for secluded properties and in a matter of a few weeks acquired his personal version of Shangri-La.

He entered the cabin and a few minutes later was eating his customary breakfast of poached eggs and rye toast. His hunger abated, he relaxed as he sipped the last of his coffee and reflected on how hassle-free his life style had become. He could not have imagined how drastically that was going to change in the weeks ahead when his cell phone vibrated in his shirt pocket, followed by a few bars of "When the Saints go Marching In".

"Garth here."

"Good morning, sweetheart."

"Well, it's great to hear your voice, Estelle. On average, I get maybe two calls a week and they're almost never from a female. So what's up and how are things in the Big Apple?"

"As you know, Garth, the only thing constant here is change and in every facet of life."

She paused for a few seconds. "I need to talk to you about something...something that has to do with our firm and with which you might be able to help me."

Garth chuckled. "Me! Tough for me to think how I could be of help to the Senior Law Associate in the Bestline Corporation. The last time I looked at a law book it was to see the minimum sentencing guidelines for felony one assault."

It was Estelle's turn to laugh. "No nothing like that. It's not that simple and straight forward."

"Go ahead and try me. Maybe I can pick up on it."

"No, I don't think so. I'd really like to sit down, face to face, with you to have this conversation. Anyway we haven't seen each other in nearly two months and I think we're overdue for some collateral benefits beyond the business matters ."

"Well, that's inducement enough. Now, as I recall asking way back when on our third date, your place or mine?"

"Oh my, that was an awesome time." She paused for a few seconds. "Well, I think I could benefit by getting out of this rat race for a bit. Today won't work but I can change some things around that I could get out of town by midafternoon tomorrow and be at your place by early evening. Will that work for you?"

"That'll be great. Gives me a day to change the sheets and chase the dust bunnies out. So I'll see you tomorrow. Bye, love."

"Bye."

He leaned back in his chair and nibbled at the remaining piece of toast. This seems to be a bit of a mystery, he thought. I wonder what it's all about. Anyway, it will be great to see her.

It was nearly the end of his stint at the Police Academy when he first met Estelle. She was among a small group of young attorneys that the Bar Association had provided to give the cadets some basics on civil rights issues as it might impact their performance in dealing with the public. After a general lecture by a senior attorney there were small-breakout sessions consisting of one attorney with three or four of the cadets. Estelle was assigned to the group of which Garth was part. Beyond the fact that she was at least a nine as far as looks were concerned, he was impressed with her honesty.

"Guys, you've got no expert here. I passed the Bar just two months ago and I'm working in the private sector, as a corporate attorney. They touched on civil rights in a couple of the courses in law school and they gave us this manual on the way over. Maybe we'll learn something together."

Following the ensuing half-hour session there was a break for coffee and some other goodies. Garth was somewhat aggressive in engaging her in conversation and inquired about her law school experience, where she grew up and where she was living.

He learned that their backgrounds were quite different. Garth grew up in Brooklyn in a lower-middle income household. He had two older siblings, Harry who worked in the plumbing trade and Judi a buyer in retail women's wear. Garth had always done well in school and was able to get a sizeable scholarship for college in the criminal justice area. Estelle came from a well to do family in the Norwalk, Connecticut area. College at Smith and Yale Law School were her academic background.

At the end of conversation that bordered on an interrogation, Estelle looked at him very directly and gave him a big smile as she inquired, ":Any chance, you're hitting on me?"

"Pretty obvious, huh? Well, yes, I'd like to see you outside of these surroundings. How are the chances that you'd be available for a dinner date this Friday?"

She nodded and smiled.

"Well, I guess they vet you guys pretty well and I wouldn't have to worry about dining with an axe murderer. Yes, that would be nice."

That was the beginning of their relationship. They dated for a period of months during which time they got to know each other intimately on both a physical and intellectual level. Their interaction in both environments was for the most part mutually satisfying. She did worry about the potential for danger to him in law enforcement and he wondered how she could enjoy spending her days leafing through law books and reading contracts. At the end of six months Garth moved into her apartment.

CHAPTER TWO

By late morning, Garth had put in a few hours in his workshop. This hasn't been going too well, he thought. I usually don't have this much trouble getting a uniform thickness on the soundboard. There are these two areas that are a little too high. Maybe I'm not concentrating and thinking too much about Estelle's visit tomorrow. I've put too much time on this violin to screw it up coming down the home stretch. Better take a break.

He walked outside and was enjoying the cool breeze as he gazed at the blooms of the mountain laurel to the rear of the cabin. His solitude was interrupted for the second time this morning. This time, however, it was not the cell phone but rather the sound of a vehicle coming up the gravel drive way that provided access from the valley road to his house.

It was a rare occurrence that Garth had visitors and he walked around to the front of the cabin to see who was coming. A late model, silver Jaguar pulled in to a stop.

Certainly not any of my neighbors around here, he thought. He watched as the door opened, a pair of shapely legs slid out and the driver stood up.

Definitely not a local gal, blond, well put together and dressed for Fifth Avenue, not Laceyville.

With an engaging smile, she stepped towards him with an extended hand.

"Are you Mr. Kosloff, I hope."

"Yep, that's me, Garth Kosloff".

"Oh good. My name is Irene Vespa and I understand that you are a maker of fine- custom made violins."

"Well, some people think so. How did you hear of me?"

"One of my neighbors in the Hamptons, is acquainted with Mr. Conrad Silver whom I believe you know. When I told Sandy, my neighbor, that I was interested in acquiring a superior instrument, she got your name from Mr. Silver. Sandy and her husband have been big supporters of the Met for years. Is that too complicated?"

"No, I think that I followed that."

Garth paused for a few seconds before he spoke again to process what the woman had revealed.

The Hamptons, huh. That's definitely the high rent district. Yeah, I remember Silver. He was one of my first customers after I left the Big Apple and started converting my hobby to a vocation. He is or was the First Violin at the Met and he seemed real pleased with the instrument.

"So what's your interest, Irene? Are you also a concert violinist?"

"Oh, my goodness, no. I'm just a Mom and a housewife. I'm interested in this for my son."

"Uh huh, and where does he play?

"Well, he's in the string section of his middle school orchestra."

Garth paused for a few seconds so as to choose his next words carefully.

"Mrs. Vespa, I hate to disappoint you but I have never sold any of my violins to beginners."

"Oh, he's hardly a beginner. He's been taking private lessons for three years and his teacher says he has great promise. I'm confident that with a better instrument his technique will improve rapidly. His father and I are willing to pay anything within reason to help him along."

"Money is not the issue here, mam. I put a lot of time and myself into the instruments that I make. Perhaps I'm being egotistical but I suspect that I regard the finished product in much the same way that an artist would view his finished painting. There are few guarantees in life, but I like to think that my instruments will be used and cherished by career professionals. I have never sold any of my violins to anyone younger in age than the early thirties. I usually ask for references from professional colleagues of the prospective customer."

"Oh, I'm sure that his teacher would be more than happy to write a letter about Jonathon's abilities and how he's progressed."

"Mrs. Vespa there is more to this than just his age at present. I suppose that your son is about thirteen years old. In the next several years he'll be confronting a lot of issues and distractions before he focuses on adulthood and his life's work. I'm talking about such items as athletics, girls and academics any one of which could create diversions from his current interest in music. The odds are that a music instrument acquired at his age will end up in a yard sale or donated to a charity auction. For these reasons, I hope that you understand that we're not going to be able to do business."

At this, she looked at him for several seconds and it was clear to Garth that she was deciding how to respond.

"Oh this is so disappointing. Jonathon will just be devastated."

In the space of a moment, her countenance transitioned from almost a little girl pout to a dazzling smile and to a change in body language that could only be interpreted as a sexual invitation.

She continued. "It's hard for me to believe that there's not some way we could come to an accommodation."

Oh my God, she's offering me a piece of ass to sell her a violin. Tempting, she's got really nice equipment. Okay guy, don't smile and look stern.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Vespa, I've stated my reasons and nothing is going to change my mind."

The smile disappeared from her face and her look became one of anger.

"Well, you may come to regret that decision. My husband and I are very well connected as the saying goes. If today's visit had a positive outcome, we could have been in a position to be very helpful to you. As it is, we'll just have to wait and see."

With that she turned, walked quickly to her vehicle and was soon proceeding down the drive to the main road.

As he watched her depart he shook his head in frustration. Some things you just can't escape, he thought. When I got out here I hoped I wouldn't have to be dealing with jerks that like to throw their weight around.

CHAPTER THREE

Garth had found himself involved in woodworking and crafting violins quite by accident. One day three years after he graduated from the Police Academy found him away from normal patrol duty and assigned to provide security for a neighborhood festival and craft fair. It was midday Saturday in late September. It was cool and cloudy and that combined with the earlier rain resulted in a sparse crowd with only the food vendors having customers.

As he leisurely walked through the area where the craft vendors were located he was surprised to see a Dodge van pulled up along some tables between a jewelry stand on one side and pottery ware on the other. That's a little strange, he thought. Most of the people were set up quite some time ago.

He continued on and when he got around to the rear of the van, he could see an older man struggling with a large cardboard box. It obviously was either to heavy or unwieldy for him to handle.

"Can I give you a hand with that, Sir? It looks like it's more than you can handle."

The man turned, made eye contact and smiled.

"Well, I guess that I could use some help. I've either gotten weaker or things have gotten heavier in the last few years."

Together they got the large box out of the van and placed it behind the table. Garth then watched as the man got three other smaller boxes out of the van and placed them on the table. He then closed the doors on the van and approached Garth.

"Thank you, Officer. I guess I'd better get this van out of here and over to the parking area. I was late getting here. I almost decided not to bother because of the rain. Didn't want my stuff to get wet and ruined."

He looked around.

"There don't seem to be many people around so I guess my things will be safe. It shouldn't take me long."

"Don't worry about that. I'll hang around till you get back."

Garth was curious as what items the fellow had but it looked like the boxes were pretty well sealed. He walked closer to the table and saw that one of the tabs on the larger box was not secured. Looking in he saw highly finished wood that appeared to be curved. He studied it for a few seconds and it came to him that it was the end of a violin.

In a few minutes the man came back from the parking area. This was Garth's first chance to study him. He was elderly but with the full, white beard it was difficult to judge his age. In height he was an inch or so below six feet. He was slender except that the short-sleeved shirt that he was wearing exposed rather muscular forearms. There was nothing notable about his dress other than the baseball cap with a Mets logo.

"Thanks for keeping an eye on things. Oh by the way I'm forgetting my manners. My name is Homer Siebert."

"Nice to meet you, Homer. I'm Garth Koslof."

The two men shook hands.

Garth made a point of not hurrying away and watched Homer unpacking his goods. He was surprised and impressed at the merchandise. He displayed five violins, bows and other related accessories. Garth knew virtually nothing about musical instruments but thought they looked quite handsome.

"Nice looking stuff, Homer. Where'd they come from?"

Homer smiled.

"From my work shop. I made them."

Garth's mouth dropped open in surprise.

"Well that's a shocker. I figured those instruments were factory-made overseas somewhere. You're a real craftsman, Homer."

"Thanks for the compliment. To tell the truth, most of those that you see in the music stores come from out of the country. But they're destined for the mass market. They're bought by mothers that have visions of their son or daughter playing at Carnegie Hall and end up in the attic or at the garage sale. My violins are a high quality items intended for the serious, professional musician."

He paused and smiled.

"I don't claim to compete with the Stradivari's but any serious violinist that puts their bow to one of my beauties knows immediately that he's got a superior quality instrument in his hands."

"Do you expect to sell any today?"

"Probably not. This gives me a chance to get out and be around some people and my work gets some exposure. I give out a lot of cards and sometimes several months later I'll get a call that might be from a potential customer. I also get referrals from previous customers."

"That must result in a lot of peaks and valleys in your income."

"Oh, I don't depend on this for my livelihood. Between Social Security and savings from my working years, I'm comfortable."

He gestured towards his table.

"Any income from this provides for a few extras. Beyond the dollars I get a great deal of joy and personal satisfaction knowing that there are real accomplished artists playing my instruments and the pleasure that it's bringing to those listening."

Garth moved on to make his presence known in other sections of the festival area. During the next few hours he returned and had further conversation with Homer. He learned that he was a widower and lived alone only about a dozen blocks from Garth and Estelle's apartment. He said his small shop was nearby. Garth found him interesting to talk to, took his card and promised to be in touch.

He did keep in touch and before long was stopping by Homer's shop a couple of times a week. After a while he got introduced to some of the simpler tasks such as sanding the wood and burnishing the finished lacquer to a high sheen. At Estelle's suggestion he invited Homer over for dinner and it soon became a weekly event. The three became good friends. The couple learned that Homer had grown up in New Jersey farmland near the Delaware Water Gap.

He was drafted into the army at the time of the Korean War but his overseas assignment was in Germany. After his two-year stint he found work as a cabinet maker in Jersey City. It was around the time that President Kennedy was assassinated that his uncle, a music teacher, asked him to try and repair his badly-damaged cello. Laughingly, he recalled that it took over three months but in the end his uncle was thrilled with the outcome. His interest was piqued although for practical-space considerations in his small apartment, the violin was a more logical choice for what was at first, a hobby. It grew over the years and soon larger space was required. He acquired what had been a two-car garage and converted it into his workshop. By luck a few years later he found and bought a nearby house.

Garth's interest in the crafting of violins grew and in the third year transitioned from pieces and parts to a complete instrument. It required seven weeks of work, some miss steps and patient counsel from Homer. In the end, both student and teacher were well satisfied with the finished product. From that time forward something like a partnership evolved.

Garth also progressed in his law enforcement career and his hard work resulted in promotions. The advancements meant salary increases but with that came more responsibility and stress. The work with violins was a welcome diversion. He remarked to Estelle one time his work with Homer in the shop saved him a lot of money with the shrinks.

In the middle of Garth's second decade with the Police Department, the comfortable pattern of work and home life came to an abrupt end with Homer's unexpected death. He had never discussed his health with Garth but there must have been some issues of which Homer was aware. He had prepaid all of his final expenses and had a will that named Garth as his executor. His liquid assets were bequeathed to a veteran's organization. To Garth's great surprise the work shop and all of its contents were left to him.

CHAPTER FOUR

Late in the afternoon, Garth was in his workshop and trying to concentrate on the tasks that he had started in the morning. He was still finding that it was difficult to concentrate. He enjoyed thinking about the visit by Estelle on the marrow. But the unpleasant interchange that he had with the woman wanting to buy a violin for her middle-school-age son kept coming back. It was more than just her unwillingness to understand that he was discriminating as to the customers to whom he would sell his violins. Most annoying was the latter part of their conversation when she made the point of class distinction.

"Rank has its privileges," he mumbled, out loud.

Indeed, he thought. I know all about that.

Almost immediately, in his subconscious he focused on the events leading up to and surrounding his departure from the New York City Police Department. It had been a busy Friday evening with a lot of calls, none of which were out of the ordinary. As Chief of Detectives in the precinct he had been busy with paperwork only to be interrupted by the attractive female clerk assigned to the Desk Sergeant.

"Chief, could you help me out with something?"

"Sweetheart, I've been hoping for that opportunity for a long time."

"In your dreams, Chief, in your dreams. I really don't have time to wonder if that's your libido talking or just wishful thinking. The point is, everybody in the squad is out on assignments. Within the last ten minutes we've had three calls from the little mini-market over on Van Syock Street. You know, it's the one that Korean family has. Nice people. He's really concerned with a big- black guy who has been wandering around the place and acting very suspicious. Could you go over there and perhaps relieve his anxiety?"

In less than five minutes, Garth was at the location and it was clear as he approached the store that something was very wrong. Opening the door and entering he saw the owner on the floor, not moving and with a bloody gash on his forehead. To the right and behind the counter, the diminutive wife of the owner screamed as she struggled with a tall, muscular adult African-American who was taking money from the cash register.

Garth reacted by instinct, pulled out his Glock and barked orders.

"Police! Police! Freeze!"

The man turned and observed Garth with a look of hatred.

"Alright fellow, put the money back, hands on your head and come out of there!"

The would-be robber slowly started to comply. As he came from behind the counter, Garth took a step towards him. He had the misfortune to slip on the blood from the store-owner's wound and lurched to the side. His adversary reacted immediately, grabbing Garth in a bear hug and grasping at the firearm. The two struggled for several moments and it quickly became clear to Garth that his opponent was the stronger and he feared he would be unable to maintain control of the firearm. They writhed in the confined area, and without warning the gun went off. Garth felt no pain but was released from the grip of his foe as he fell to the floor.

He called for back-up and medical assistance. The store-owner was hospitalized overnight and recovered quickly. The would-be robber however had died almost instantly.

Garth expected that routine procedures would be followed which customarily involved an automatic transfer to administrative duties pending an investigation by Internal Affairs. The Internal Affairs investigation report was completed within fifteen days and completely exonerated him. Garth expected to be immediately returned to regular duty but what seemed like a routine robbery soon became entangled into a web of political intrigue.

On the morning that he clocked in and headed for his desk he was surprised to be engaged by the Precinct Commander.

"Koslof, I need to talk with you. Let's go over to my office."

I wonder what in the hell is going on. That's the first time Jim's called me by my last name in years. Something's up.

Seated across the desk, Garth could see that the boss was very uncomfortable.

"Uh, Garth we have some complications. For whatever reason the DA's office has got itself involved in your case. I've been ordered to place you on indefinite suspension with pay pending whatever action they take."

"What the fuck is going on? The perp was accidentally shot during the commission of a felony. It's cut and dried."

"Privately, I agree with you but this comes from upstairs. I suppose we'll find out but I'm clueless at this point. But I have no choice but to ask you to turn over your badge and your piece. Why don't you go down the back stairs and out of here. That way you won't have to talk to any of the guys. I'll tell them what's up."

He paused. "I'm just sorry as hell about this, Garth. Let's hope it clears up in short order."

Garth exited the building's rear stairs into the alley and at its end turned right onto the side street and walked towards the front of the station house. Almost immediately he could tell that something was amiss. He could hear yelling and chanting which got louder as he got to the front.

"Pig knuckles, knuckle the pigs. Pig knuckles, knuckle the pigs."

There was a group of about fifty people in front of the Station House, chanting in unison. Some had signs with various slogans on them including Black Lives Matter and Killer Cops.

He saw a TV truck with its satellite antenna and off to the side a heavy black man holding a megaphone was being interviewed by a young woman. Garth was not close enough to hear the conversation but he could see that the man being interviewed was waving his hands and other wise appeared to be quite agitated. He made note of the channel number on the side of the truck. I'll have to watch that tonight and find out what kind of a sonofabitch I am, he thought. Better get out of here.

He walked away from the scene a block and a half to the nearest bus stop. In less than a half hour he was back to the apartment building, sitting on his recliner and trying to digest what had happened and what was going on. That didn't last too long and soon he found himself pacing the floor. I need to talk with someone, he thought.

In a few minutes he was on the phone with Estelle and relayed the events of the morning to her.

"I guess that you didn't see any news this morning."

"No. I left for work a little early and you were in the shower. Wanted to get there to spend some time with the guys before the shift started,

"Well, you missed a segment that might be relevant to your situation. They covered a meeting where our new mayor was speaking to a neighborhood group in Harlem and he got on to the subject of police misconduct. He was quoted as saying that he had reservations about some matters just being reviewed by Internal Affairs. He made a reference to a Good Old Boys Network and said that he felt there was merit in the idea of an independent citizens review board."

"Where the hell did that all come from. Estelle?"

"Our company does some business with some of the city departments and we've been hearing that when he was running he told certain people in the minority communities that he'd do something to have the cops ease up on them. So I guess it's now time for him to deliver. You just happened to give him the first opportunity."

The conversation with Estelle was worrisome but Garth felt that the system would work in his favor. After all there was no way in hell that he was guilty of anything. The perp was clearly guilty of robbery and in the previous six months he had two arrests for assault. Definitely not a choir boy in Garth's estimation. But then an attorney for the family got into the act and the guy was suddenly termed a medical student since he had applied for EMA training the previous year although he had been turned down.

A week and a half after he was suspended, Garth was contacted by the District Attorney Office and asked to come to their offices as part of an investigation.

Walking up to the office, Garth's mind was in turmoil. No question what this is all about. But what in the hell are they going to be asking me about. For sure they have the complete report from Internal Affairs as well as the incident report from the precinct. No use wracking my brain. I guess that I'll find out soon enough.

Inside the building, he identified himself and soon was directed to a small interrogation room. It was typical of such setups with the furniture consisting of a table with two chairs behind it and on the other side a single chair. The wall behind the desk featured a large mirror which Garth knew was a two way window for observers on the other side. The room was well lighted and the walls and ceiling were painted white.

He had only been seated a couple of minutes and the door opened and a woman came in the room. She laid a folder containing papers on the desk in front of Garth.

"These are the precinct report on the Shaquan Robinson incident as well as the Internal Affairs report. You will want to reviews these. In a few minutes the investigators will be in to discuss them with you."

Garth did not spend much time looking at the precinct report since he had written much of it. He examined the Internal Affairs report thoroughly. It was quite comprehensive and while it included statements of the perp's family and some other neighborhood people that didn't seem relevant to the actual events, the conclusions seemed fair. The report stated that he had acted appropriately and in accordance with Department policy.

After looking over the paperwork he did not have to wait long and two men in civilian clothes entered the room and sat down behind the desk. They were quite different in appearance. The one was a bit taller than average, appeared to be somewhat muscular and an inch or two over six feet in height. He was wearing a dark suit, with shirt and tie, clean shaven and well groomed. Garth guessed and as it turned out correctly that he was an inspector out of Police headquarters. The other man was a few inches shorter and rather slim. He was wearing a navy blazer, gray slacks and a white mock turtleneck sweater. He had facial hair consisting of a thin mustache and a goatee.

"Mr. Koslof, I am Inspector Patrick Murphy from Police Headquarters and my colleague is Leroy Soisson who is with the Mayor's office."

He nodded towards the paperwork in front of Garth.

"Did you have a chance to look over those documents?"

"Yes. I looked over both of the reports. I was familiar with the precinct report and I spent most of my time examining the Internal Affairs document."

"Would you like to make any overall comments on the reports?"

"Well, Inspector, I believe both reports are accurate in detail and the conclusions are valid."

"Is there anything omitted from the reports that you feel is relevant to the conclusions?"

"No I don't."

"All right then, there's nothing further that I have."

He turned to the Mayor's representative.

"Mr. Soisson, do you have any observations on the reports or questions that you would like to direct to Mr. Koslof?"

Oh boy, here it comes thought Garth.

The Mayor's representative gestured to the reports on the table.

"In looking through the precinct report I noticed the absence of any information on the background of the individual that you murdered. Do you have any explanation for that?"

"Well, first of all I'd like to clarify any allegation that I murdered anyone. The deceased was killed accidentally in a struggle while resisting arrest for a felony involving a robbery. The perpetrator's background would seem to have little relevance in this matter."

"Perhaps or perhaps not. Isn't it possible that his formative years in a poverty ridden abusive household could have influenced his behavior?"

"I really couldn't say. I guess a determination of that sort would have to come from someone with psychological expertise. The fact remains that he broke the law and was assaulting a police officer when the homicide occurred."

The Mayor's rep frowned as he phrased his next question.

"Have you had any sensitivity training in dealing with members of the minority community?"

"Not specifically but throughout our training in the Police Academy we were repeatedly admonished to be at all times professional and respectful in our dealing with the all citizens in the community."

"Do you feel that you acted in that way towards the victim in this incident?"

No sense trying to clarify that I along with the store keeper were the victims in this incident, Garth thought. My God, I didn't have time to be disrespectful. I was immediately attacked after I confronted the perp.

"Yes, I was respectful."

The Mayor's rep shook his head in the negative and looked at Murphy.

"We don't seem to be getting anywhere, Inspector. I'm not going to waste more of my time with any further questions. As far as I'm concerned this discussion is concluded."

"Well. I guess that wraps it up then."

As Garth was to find out, it was not wrapped up. He did not hear anything and after three weeks he called the precinct and spoke to the commander.

"No I'm sorry to say Garth that we haven't heard anything. Two days ago I called Internal Affairs and asked about it and all they could tell me was that it was held up in the Mayor's office and in so many words told me it wouldn't be a good idea to inquire there."

Several more days went by before he heard anything more. It actually came as a surprise that he got a call late one afternoon from the mayor's representative, that he had met several weeks previously at the States Attorney Office.

"Mr. Koslof, this is Leroy Soisson from the mayor's office."

"Yes, I remember you."

"Good. The conversation that we are going to have, never happened."

He paused before he continued.

"The incident that you were involved in a few months back that resulted in the death of Shaquan Robinson has become a political issue that is very troubling to this administration. While the investigations into this event seems to have exonerated you from misconduct there is a great deal of feeling in the minority community to the contrary. Your continued service in the city police ranks is an embarrassment to the administration and cannot be tolerated. We are offering you the opportunity to retire at full pay at the end of this week. If you fail to do so you will be transferred to the administration security detail and probably assigned to an appropriate crossing guard location. If you accept this offer it will be with the understanding that neither you nor the Mayor's office will make any clarifying statements. I will call back at this time tomorrow for you answer."

Garth was speechless but before he had an opportunity to say anything the line went dead. For several seconds he just sat and stared at the phone. He was in disbelief.

He was starting on his second martini when he heard the familiar cadence of Estelle's high heels clicking on the hardwood as she came down the hallway from the elevator. Entering the apartment she took one look at Garth and came to an abrupt stop.

"One glance at you and I can tell there's no good news tonight."

"And that's a fact."

He proceeded to tell her of the telephone conversation with the Mayor's representative.

"What a raw deal! I've given a bunch of years to the City and to be fucked over that way. They shouldn't be allowed to do that."

"Well, Garth, it's a fact that life isn't always fair."

She paused before continuing.

"I understand that the scuttlebutt around City Hall has it that with the States Attorney having really nothing with which to go after you, this was the Mayor's only avenue to appear to have taken some action and save face. There won't be any public statement but a wink and a nod will mollify certain elements in the City. The implication will be that you were forced out."

He shook his head and slumped in the recliner chair.

"I never thought it would come to this. I guess I had always assumed that I would progress up through the Department as my life's work. Here I am barely middle aged and the future is covered by fog. Now what, 'Stell?"

"Well, you certainly don't have any financial worries so you can take your time in finding a new direction. In the meantime you can spend more time in your workshop with the violins."

"Yeah, well that makes sense. Wood is certainly more dependable and easier to work with than those jerks over at City Hall.":

"Okay then. Fix me a drink while I get into something more comfortable. We'll have dinner and then", she added with a mischievous grin and a raised eyebrow, "maybe we can find something else to do that will relieve the stress."

Thus without fanfare Garth's exit from law enforcement came to pass. A couple of weeks later a small article appeared in the back pages of the Times.

A news release from the Mayor's Office this week confirmed the retirement of Garth Koslof from the Police Department. Koslof had been absolved of responsibility in the death of Shaquan Robinson during the course of an alleged robbery of a convenience store last fall. The Mayor's office did not elaborate further on this matter. Efforts to contact Mr. Koslof were unsuccessful.

CHAPTER FIVE

I wonder what time it is, thought Garth, as he looked at his watch. Only twenty to six. Last time I looked it was five-thirty.

He chuckled.

You'd think that I was getting ready for my first date. It almost seems like that. It's been nearly two months since we were together and I've really been missing her.

He had spent the entire day in preparation for Estelle's visit. An early morning trip to the butcher shop and grocery store in Towanda took care of the necessities for dinner and the next day's breakfast. Garth had learned to be an adequate housekeeper but a bit of touch up was required. The bed was covered with clean sheets and pillow cases. The bathroom was given special attention and rendered spotless and odor free. He checked and confirmed that he had a full bottle of merlot in the cold cellar. The day had been hot but not humid and by late afternoon was beginning to cool down.

We'll be able to sit out and enjoy the evening breeze until about nine o' clock. Nice.

Just as he was about to check his watch again he heard the sound of a vehicle coming up the driveway. In a few moments a car came into sight and pulled alongside his pickup truck. Garth walked quickly over towards the Lexus as the door opened and Estelle stepped out.

"Hi there, country boy."

"Welcome to the Endless Mountains, sweetheart. How was the trip?"

"Not too bad. Fridays are always the worst. The first hour getting out of the city is always an adventure."

Garth took the few steps over to her and they embraced. He then held her at arm's length and looked at her with a big smile on his face.

"I still get that same old feeling when I hold you close, hon. I guess I always will."

"I was just going to say the same thing," she replied.

She looked around over his shoulder.

"Everything looks pretty much the same since my last trip here. Have you made any more improvements?"

He pointed to the roof.

"See those solar collectors up there. They connect to the generator and the battery system inside. It was quite an investment but the fellow told me I'd hardly ever need to run the gas generator with this setup. Anyhow it's past dinner time. Let's go on in and you can pour the wine while I check on things."

Dinner was over and cleared away and they were having some more wine in the living area. Garth had been telling her about the encounter earlier in the day with the woman that wanted to get a violin for her son. Estelle chuckled over the woman's attempt to barter.

"She'd have gotten the best of the deal on both ends," she said with a grin.

Garth just shrugged and smiled in return.

"Anyway, you didn't come all the way out here to learn about my violins. What's the big secret?"

Estelle face acquired a serious look as she took a deep breath.

"It's an issue involving one of our senior executives. I'm sure you remember me speaking of Marshall Godwin who heads up our marketing operations. He's a favorite in the company and everybody really likes him. A few weeks ago he asked to meet with me and our CFO, Miles Sloan. Basically he wanted to take a leave of absence for about three weeks and have access to half a million dollars."

"Wow! I guess that got your attention. Was he having woman problems?"

"Yes, but not the kind you're thinking about. It involves his sister, Cherlyn."

She paused for a moment before continuing.

"It's kind of a tough family story. She's eight years younger and when he was in his first year of college, their parents were both killed in a car accident. There were no other relatives to help and basically Marshall raised her. She's a nice woman and a real cutie. But she's one of these women that always seem to be attracted to some jerk that proceeds to take advantage of her every way possible. And then it's Marshall's job to step in and try and get her out of a mess. He's shared a lot of these stories with me over the years."

"So what's going on now?"

"Well, he wasn't real clear about the current situation. Cherlyn has a degree in business and a specialty in accounting. She got a good management job with a trucking company out in Albuquerque a couple of years ago and was doing very well. But something has happened and he felt that he has to get out there and help her resolve the matter. It must have been serious in terms of the money he wanted to have available."

"So what are you going to do?"

"Actually it's a case of what we've already done. We gave him a line of credit which was actually secured by his 401-K. So the company isn't going to be out any money in the worst case scenario. But he's been gone three weeks now and if something ugly has happened we need to know about it and if possible try to fix it. The company doesn't need any bad publicity and we do have stockholders that we have to answer to."

"I get the picture but why are you telling me all this?"

She smiled as she answered.

"At this point we don't want to go to the authorities and file a missing person's report. We would like to investigate this privately, find out what's going on and if possible help Marshall clear it up. To do that we need to find someone that has the known skills to probe into situations like this and of course who might be available on short notice. Your name came up."

"I wonder who suggested me?" Garth asked with a grin.

"It was me of course. I know you have the skills to dig into this and the company would put you on as a consultant and pay you a nice fee along with your expenses. It might be good for you to take a little vacation from being a hermit and spend some time doing something you are good at and maybe might still enjoy. "

"Well, it does sound interesting, although there's not much to go on. Do you have anything else that might be useful.

"Maybe. A couple of days before Marshall hit us with this whole deal, I was at a Bar Association mixer. I ran into one of my old buddies from law school and he mentioned that Marshall had been in touch with him on a matter. He didn't elaborate but he specializes in immigration law. Maybe that could be relevant but I can't say."

"As you were describing the situation, Estelle, I was thinking that I might have a contact out there that could be useful."

"And who or what might that be?"

"I don't know if you recall my first partner with the Department, Sean Caffrey. He was a twenty-year man at that point and they always tried to start the rookies out with a veteran. He was a good guy, we became good friends and I learned a lot from him but at the end of my second year he took early retirement. He had a daughter out here and went out here to be near her. He talked about maybe getting a Private Investigator license. But I didn't keep in touch and he may have changed his plans for all I know."

Garth paused for a few seconds before continuing.

"If I would decide to do this when would you want me start?"

"Immediately, if not sooner. We are concerned and want to get this resolved ASAP."

"I'll need to think about this overnight. As far as timing is concerned there's really nothing that I have on the schedule that would prevent me from taking some time off."

The next morning Estelle got awake and looked over to see that Garth was not beside her. She pulled on her robe and walked out to the kitchen. Garth looked up from where he was sitting at the kitchen table.

"You look well rested. I don't recall that you used to sleep that late."

"You're right about that. But something special that had been missing from my life was renewed and a lot of stress was relieved."

"Well, you should hang around longer. Anyway, I have fresh coffee so let's take it outside and enjoy the morning before breakfast."

They settled into the settee and for a few moments there was no conversation but then Estelle spoke.

"I can see how much you like this place, Garth. It's really pleasant, restful and devoid of all the clamor and noise of the city."

"That's certainly true but there are times when I miss being around people and the lack here of entertainment like the theater, professional sports and cultural offerings. Solitude can be valuable but sometimes you can have too much of a good thing. I enjoy my craft but miss the opportunity to use my brain more and interact with people."

"You may have given me an opening. The proposition we discussed last night would certainly fill that void."

"Yes, it would. That's why I'm giving you a yes."

PART TWO

CHAPTER SIX

Cherlyn had just finished looking over the spread sheet that she used monthly to track the volumes of goods carried by the drivers and their destinations. The only thing that seemed worrisome was that several of the drivers seemed close to their maximum driving times. Since all of the drivers were independents they might have trips with other companies.

Maybe I should talk to the boss about this. The only way this would show up would be on their logbooks. That shouldn't be our problem but you never know what going to get you on the Feds shit list

Her thoughts were interrupted by the buzz on the intercom.

"Yes."

"This is Sharon, Ms. Godwin. There's a gentleman here that would like to talk with you."

"I see. Did he indicate the nature of his business?"

"Yes. He wanted to talk about driver openings and I normally would have directed him to Mr. Johnson but as you know he's out this week. So I thought you might be able to help him."

"Okay, I'll be right out."

Cheryl walked out and into the reception area, expecting to see a man dressed in a Diamondbacks tee shirt, jeans, and wearing a John Deere ball cap. Instead a handsome man who looked to be in his thirties, with dark hair, an engaging smile and wearing an expensive, summer weight suit rose to greet her with an engaging smile and a firm handshake.

"Good morning, my name is Miguel Santos. I appreciate you taking the time to meet me."

The Mexican, Juan Vega, was using the name Miguel Santos for his dealing north of the border. He had no expectations as to the physical being of Cherlyn but was delighted by her appearance. She was taller than average with a very attractive figure. Her shoulder-length blond hair, blue eyes and fair complexion were striking. The pastel blouse and black slacks she was wearing added to the complete package.

Madre de dos, if I had a stable of women like her, I could retire in two years.

"I'm sorry that Mr. Brown isn't in this morning to help you but come with me and I'll try to fill in."

She glanced at Sharon on the way, who was wearing a mischievous grin as if to say I knew you wouldn't want this hunk to get away.

"Well, Mr. Santos, how can I help you"?

"My family has a number of business interest in the area as well as some in Tucson and also south of the border. From time to time we become aware of new opportunities. About a year and a half ago we were approached by two men known to our family who were working as employees for a trucking firm in Phoenix. They felt that as independent truckers they could do much better financially but lacked the funds to get started. They had put something like a business plan together, were both hardworking professionals, and it looked like a good investment. So we funded their startup."

"So how's it working out," inquired Cherlyn?

"Frankly, not as well as we hoped. The equipment is excellent and the men are diligent with service and maintenance. The customers have been well pleased. The problem is lack of business. The men are truckers and are not salesmen. I have tried to help them in that area but the inordinate amount of time I have spent has not been especially productive. I have come to understand that you use only independent truckers and perhaps you could use more."

"That's a possibility. Are the men licensed in the U S?"

"No, they are licensed in Mexico and I understand that issues have been raised about the quality of that testing. We have gone a further step and they have successfully completed testing by a private entity that is much more rigorous than the U S requirements. I have document here on all of that."

"Well, you seem to have covered most of the bases."

He smiled.

"We have an investment to protect. By the way, they are both bonded and if you do a criminal background check, as I am sure you will, they will come up clean."

Cherlyn took a few minutes to examine the paperwork.

"The decision on this will be up to our General Manager, Mr. Brown but you seem to have everything covered. I'll pass this on and we'll be in touch if anything else is required."

"I couldn't ask for more than that. Oh, I see that it's almost lunch time and since the decision won't be yours, it wouldn't be bribery to ask you to join me."

Cherlyn chuckled at the remark.

"Thank you. That's very gracious. Yes, I'd be pleased to join you"

They entered the dining room in the nearby hotel, were greeted by the hostess and were quickly seated.

"I've never eaten here," observed Cherlyn. Do they have some specialties?"

"Well, they have a very complete menu. Let's have a glass of wine while we look things over."

"Miguel, do you have a preference for southwest food?"

"Well. I grew up with Mexican food and I like it very much. However change is good from time to time and I've developed a taste for Italian food. The usually have a good selection here and I especially like their eggplant rollantini."

"That's a favorite of mine also so that should take care of our meal selections."

Miguel had been examining her business card

"Your first name is quite unusual. Is it a family name?"

"Not in the usual sense. My parents made it up from parts of their names. My mother's name was Cher and my father's middle name was Lynn."

"That's quite unique and interesting. You know, listening to you talk, there's some accent that sounds like the New York Metropolitan area."

"Good guess. I lived in the Big Apple all my life until about two years ago."

"That seems like quite a change."

"Yes, it was. I guess that you've lived in this part of the country all your life."

"That's so. New Mexico and Arizona. I spend a lot of time across the border in Mexico also since I have family and business interests there."

After their food was served their conversation became limited and Cherlyn had more opportunity to observe Miguel closely. He was very light complexed and the casual observer would not think of him as Hispanic.

His background must be pure European Spanish, she thought.

She noticed that on his right hand index figure he wore a gold ring formed in the shape of a snake with tiny ruby eyes.

"That's an unusual ring you have and quite attractive. Does it have any special meaning

"It was given to me by the man who helps finance several of my business ventures. It was given as a gift of thanks for my work. More than that it binds us to each other in trust and solidarity."

"That almost sounds like a family."

"Something like that although we are not related."

As they were having their after-lunch coffee, he smiled across the table at Cherlyn.

"So much of the time when I'm on business, I have to eat my meals alone. This has been a real treat for me and I hope you've enjoyed yourself, too."

"Oh yes. this has been very pleasant . Excellent food and good company."

'I'm glad to hear that. Sometimes when I'm in Albuquerque I need to stay over. I hope it wouldn't be too forward of me to ask that perhaps on one of those occasions we could have a dinner date and go dancing or take in an entertainment of some sort. Would you be open to that?"

"That would be very nice. I haven't had much of a social life since I moved out here."

":Great! I have your card with your cell number so I can get in touch."

Later that afternoon, Miguel made a follow up call.

"Hola."

"Claudio this is Juan. I made a good contact today with a trucking company in Albuquerque. It's called Intermountain Trucking and I think you will be hearing from them maybe in a day or so. If you and Pablo start getting some work from them I want you to be very careful the first few weeks. No tickets and no problems with the cops of any kind. Don't even carry any weed with you. It cost a lot to make the hidden compartment under the sleeping areas in your rigs. I want no suspicions when we start using them. You understand?"

"Si. Yo comprendo."

"By the way if it should come up, I'm using the name Miguel with these people. Miguel Santos."

CHAPTER SEVEN

Marita Castilla had left her home in Morocillo at the age of sixteen. Up until three years earlier she had experienced a pleasant childhood. Her father owned a small café and he was able to provide for the needs of the family consisting of her mother, Marita and two older brothers. When Marita was fourteen years old her mother tragically died of cancer. Within six months her two brothers left home; the one went to live with an uncle and found work in Durango and it was suspected that the other traveled north and entered the United States as an illegal. Marita continued to go to school, cooked for her father and kept the house cleaned. She missed her mother but for a few months everything seemed to go well.

Marita had begun to physically develop into a woman. By her thirteenth birthday, her body had changed with slender hips, a shapely buttocks and well-formed breasts. Teen age boys noticed the changes in her, made rude remarks and tried to touch her. It did not worry her because she had seen that happen with older girls. However she was not prepared what happened at home.

In addition to keeping house Marita sometimes helped her father in his café. She had started noticing him looking at her breasts in ways that made her feel uncomfortable. At first she thought she was imagining things but as time passed she became more concerned. On different occasions when they were working in close proximity behind the counter her would brush against her. But he would always look away as if it was just an accident.

She would always remember vividly the time when her fears were realized. It was a night of few customers and her father had told her to go home and to bed an hour before closing time. She had done so and had fallen asleep quickly. She became awake later with the feeling of her breasts being massaged. She cried out and tried to sit up and move away. As she became aware of her surroundings she saw that it was her father sitting on the edge of her bed. The smell of alcohol from his breath was quite strong.

"You're drunk. What are you doing?"

"I have been without a woman for a long time now. I have been good to you. You have food and clothes and a good place to live."

He reached out and placed his hand on her leg and started to move it up her thigh.

"That doesn't give you any right to touch me like this."

"I am your father. You mother would have wanted you to take care of my needs. It's your duty. You will do as I say or you will have to leave."

She felt desperate but the threat of her being forced to leave caused her resistance to crumble. She lay back on the bed and did not try to stop him from violating her body and she began to sob. He finished with a groan and pulled away from her.

"Stop your crying. That wasn't so bad, was it? It might not hurt as much the next time."

The next two days he hardly spoke or looked at her.

Maybe he's embarrassed and realizes what he did was wrong and he won't do it again.

Unfortunately on the third night her hopes were shattered and the act was repeated. A pattern evolved that about twice a week she was forced to endure the disgust and humiliation of being sexually used by her father. When she had her monthly period he demanded that she take care of his needs in other ways. She came to hate herself almost as much as she hated her father.

Even though I am forced to do these things I am being sinful. I never imagined that I would be in such a terrible situation.

She would soon find that even worse things would be her fate.

One evening at the café, as was his custom her father was mingling with some the customers. She noticed that he spent several minutes siting at a table and talking with a man of about his own age. Marita did not recognize him as one of the regular customers and he was well dressed. By his looks she thought he might be an Anglo. At length her father returned to the counter.

"I want you to go talk to the man I was sitting with. He is from the States, here on business and doesn't know anybody."

She shrugged.

I guess there's nothing wrong with that.

She sat with the man for several awkward minutes. The conversation was very one-sided, as she didn't know what to talk about. He asked if she went to school or church. Did she have a boyfriend? What were her favorite foods? When she left to go back to the counter, she was surprised by his parting remark.

"Maybe I'll see you later, sweetheart."

What did he mean by that?

An hour later, all of the customers had left except the man with whom she had sat.

"Marita, you might as well go home and get ready for bed," said her father. I'll close up."

Oh dear God. I hope he doesn't want to use me tonight.

She had finished bathing and was putting on her night gown when she heard him come in. He came directly into her bedroom.

"The man that you talked to at the café is with me. He has not had a woman for some time and he wants to go to bed with you. You will let him do to you like I do."

"Please no. Don't make me do this. "

"You will do as I say. He has paid me some money which we need. Business has not been good and if I lose the café and this house we will have nothing."

He left the bedroom and in a few moments the man came in and Marita had to endure the loathsome experience of being used for another's pleasure. Unfortunately it was not a onetime thing but there was not a regular pattern. Her father was careful not to prostitute her to local men or regular customers, only out-of- towners.

Marita realized that she had become an unwilling whore. Her self-esteem plummeted and she stopped going to school. She continued to go to church but stopped going to confession.

One morning about three months after the horror with her father had progressed to include prostitution, Marita was stopped by the priest as she was leaving church.

"I see that you come to church regularly, my child."

"Yes, Father."

"It would be good if you celebrated Mass, my child."

"Yes, Father."

"You need to have a clean heart to celebrate Mass. For that you need to come to Confession. When was the last time you told God and me of you sins?"

"It's been quite a while, Father."

"If you are troubled, my child, you should come to the Confessional. God may help lift your burdens."

Seated in the Confessional, for several minutes Marita spoke of trivial things. The priest questioned and probed. Finally in an emotional outburst Marita told the priest of the sexual hell she was enduring living with her father. She asked him what he or the church could do to stop this dreadful life she was living.

"You should pray to God, my child. He will show you the way."

She left the church that day more dispirited than before.

What good will praying to God . If I were to leave will he find me a place to live? Can't someone stop him from doing this to me and selling me to other man ? This has been no help.

Marita was to learn that talking to the priest had made the situation worse as in the succeeding days he had spoken to her father, That evening when he came home from the cafe she could tell that he was angry.

"Get into your bedroom and take your clothes off."

She wearily complied and assumed she was about to endure another sexual assault. She was surprised that when he followed her into the bedroom and closed the door he did not disrobe as usual but removed the heavy-leather belt from his pants.

"What were you thinking when you go blabbing to that Priest about your duties here. You want to cause me trouble and lose my customers and business. You need to be taught a lesson, you little bitch."

He pushed her face down on the bed, held her wrists behind her back and savagely beat her with his belt from her shoulders down to her knees. She thought he would never stop. When he finally did and after she stopped crying and moaning he forced her on her knees at the side of the bed and exposed himself.

"You know what to do", he ordered. Make it good or you'll get another beating."

The pain and bruises from the beating was so severe that Marita was unable to leave the bedroom for two days.

So that's how God answers my prayers.

CHAPTER EIGHT

In spite of her disillusionment Marita continued to go to church. One month after the beating she was walking home from church with her head down and deep in thought. She was startled by a voice.

"You look like you have a lot on your mind, young lady."

She looked up from her reverie and saw a smiling-young man sitting on bench by the walkway.

"Oh no, I was just thinking about what I have to do later today."

"Why don't you join me and tell me about it?"

By now Marita had time look at the man. He wasn't a boy and she guessed that he might be in his late twenties or early thirties. He was casually but well dressed and well groomed. He seemed to have a pleasant look.

I guess it wouldn't hurt to sit down for a while.

"Okay, I'll sit a bit but you couldn't possibly be interested in what I do."

They talked for almost a half hour. She earned that that his name was Juan Vega. He lived in a town in the north and was visiting a friend. She was impressed with how interested he seemed to be in her. She told him a lot about herself omitting the part about the abuse she suffered at the hands of her father.

"It's time for me to get on home. It was nice meeting you."

"Yes, Marita. Maybe we'll meet again."

On the way home she thought about Juan. He was very fair skinned, a blanco, she thought, perhaps from an important family. She couldn't have been more wrong. He was born and grew up in one of the poorest sections of Durango. He had several siblings but he was the only one with fair skin. His father seemed to resent that and was physically abusive towards him. For the same reason he was bullied as a youngster by his siblings and his contemporaries. By his teenage years these negative experiences had instilled in him the desire to rise above his humble beginnings. He was intelligent, became street smart and was spotted by a drug dealer who saw him as someone who could deliver his products to customers in more affluent areas. Through this he came to the attention of a crime boss whose activities also included smuggling illegals, prostitution and pornography. This boss, who was known as snake man and later just snake, La Serpiente. took a liking to Juan. He obtained fake papers so Juan could move freely between Mexico and the States and set up his own operation in New Mexico. From that point Juan moved quickly up the ladder in the regional crime organization.

Three days later when Marita was again on the way home from church, she encountered Juan sitting on the bench. She joined him and they talked again. Marita was becoming interested in him. He seemed very pleasant and some of the things he said made her laugh. The only thing that troubled Marita was that she was unable to learn much about him. When she would ask him questions about family, what work he did and where he lived, he usually changed the subject.

Soon a pattern developed and about two or three times a week he would be waiting to talk with her. One morning he was waiting for her on her way to church.

"My but you're very early this morning. Do you want to go to church with me?"

He smiled.

"No. I thought we might do something different this morning and go for a drive, "as he pointed to the car parked on the street.

"That's a fancy looking car. Is that yours?"

"It's mine to use whenever I wish."

"Where did you think we would drive to?"

"Not far. I thought we could drive over to the river and from there watch the cars and big trucks on the main highway that goes down to Durango."

Seated in the car, enjoying the view and the casual conversation, Marita was very relaxed and enjoying herself. Juan held her hand but didn't touch her in any other way. There was a pause in the conversation and he leaned over and kissed her. She found it pleasant but was glad that he didn't take any other liberties. They cuddled together for several minutes until she asked him to take her back so she could return home.

It was a full week until she saw Juan the next time. Again this time he was waiting along the way she walked to church.

"Good Morning, Marita."

"Good Morning. I was beginning to wonder when I was going to see you again. "

"I was on a business trip up to Albuquerque in the US and it took a little longer than I had expected."

"That sound exciting. I've never been out of the country. Did you drive? I see that you've brought your car."

"I only drove part of the way and used other means to cross over. I thought we might go for a drive again today."

"I guess that would be okay. The same place as before?"

"Would you like to see where I live?"

"I guess so if it's not too far."

The location was only a few miles north out into the country. They turned off the highway onto a paved drive that curved around and up the side of a hill until it stopped at a flat area at the top. The first thing Marita noticed was small structure with a man standing in front. Juan slowed the car and nodded to the man who nodded back.

"What was that all about," inquired Marita.?

"This property belongs to my boss and he's gone a lot of the time. That guy is like a caretaker so the boss knows who is coming and going."

He parked the car in front of the house which was huge by any standards.

I wonder what Juan and his boss do that they can afford such a large house. They must be very wealthy.

"Let's go on in and I'll show you where I live."

They entered into a large living room that was filled with very elegant furnishings. Juan led the way down a hallway and they entered a room. Marita was astounded by the size of the room and the furnishings. There was a very large sofa, two matching chairs and tables. The carpeting on the floor was a new experience for Marita. One wall was devoted to shelving and books, as well as a very large television set. At the far end of the room were built-in kitchen appliances including a small refrigerator, sink, and a microwave oven.

"Everything looks very neat and tidy."

Juan smiled.

"Well, I can't take credit for that. There's a woman worker that lives here and does all the cleaning. She also prepares meals when necessary."

Marita glanced at a door opening on the wall opposite of the book shelves and wondered where that went.

Juan noticed her look, nodded in that direction and spoke.

"My bedroom and clothing chests and closets are in there."

"Well, let's relax, Marita. Take a seat on the sofa and I'll see if I can't find us something cool to drink."

He walked to the kitchen area and she watched him get glasses and two bottles from the refrigerator. After mixing he returned and handed her a glass before sitting beside her on the sofa.

"Oh my, this glass is really cold and frosty. What's in it?"

"It's called a wine spritzer, It's mostly lemon-lime soda with a little white wine in it. Very mild and it won't get you tipsy."

I hope that I can trust him. So far he's been very nice to me.

He sat on the sofa beside her. As they sipped on their drinks they engaged in some casual conversation.

"Did you stay in the United States very long last week?"

"Not so long. In total only three days."

"Did you have a good time?"

He smiled.

"Well, it was a business trip. My boss had sold some things to an Anglo up there and he wanted to make sure it had arrived. There had been some question about payment, too, that I needed to clear up."

"Is it nice up there?"

"Very nice. There's lots to do and see. There are more good jobs than here and people make a lot of money."

Marita was feeling relaxed not realizing that he had put a small amount of a tranquilizer in her drink. When he moved closer, put his arm around her and kissed her she did not resist. She returned the kiss with fervor. There exchange became more passionate and soon he unbuttoned her blouse and was caressing her breasts.

When he suggested that they would be more comfortable in the bedroom she nodded and eagerly let him lead her there and gently lay her down. What followed was a fervent yet tender lovemaking experience. Marita learned that intercourse was not something to be merely endured and for the first time experienced the physical pleasure of orgasm.

Laying there in the pleasant afterglow of this marvelous happening, she was suddenly brought back to reality by the awful prospect of what awaited her at home. Marita could not shake that from her mind and she began to weep.

"What's wrong sweetheart? Are you sorry for what we just did?"

"Oh no," she sobbed. It was wonderful."

"What's wrong then?"

With that she burst out crying. After she had composed herself somewhat she proceed to tell Juan about the horrific situation she had to suffer at her home.

"The experiences were so awful but seemed as if they were something that had to be endured. When it was over I would always feel unclean and disgusted with myself that there was no way out."

She sobbed before continuing.

"And just now when you and I made love and for the first time I was able to have this beautiful and wonderful experience, it made what I'd been experiencing at home worse than dreadful. How can I ever go back there?"

He held her tightly and said nothing for nearly a minute. Then he moved so that he could look directly at her and spoke.

"You are never going back there. There is nothing for you there but pain and shame. You will stay with me."

He paused and then continued.

"Do you have any things back there that you need?"

"Some clothing, a picture of my mother and a few other little items. My father left this morning to go down to Durango to get things for the café. He usually doesn't get back until time for the evening meal so now would be a good time to get my things."

And so in a few hours, Marita had severed all ties with her father and her previous life. She felt very happy and was sure that she was in love.

CHAPTER NINE

For the five weeks after Marita started living with Juan it seemed to her that she was living in paradise. The food that the housekeeper prepared for the meals was excellent and reminded her of the things that her mother had made. The house was very comfortable and she could never have imagined that a bed would feel so good. Juan was never unpleasant to her and was a very skillful in his lovemaking. She could not imagine how life could be any better. She was, however, troubled by Juan's absences, usually three or four hours but on two occasions he was gone overnight. He was always vague about where he went when he was away. He would smile and tell her not to worry that it was just business.

Her inquiries reminded him that it was soon time to deal with her in a more permanent way. She was not a nag and always eager to make love. But he had invested a lot of time in her and it was time for a payback.

I need to get her up to Albuquerque with the other girls. She's fresh and young looking. She'll be a real money maker.

`

"Marita, I have to go up to Albuquerque tomorrow and I'll be up there for a couple of days. Would you like to go along?"

"I'd like that very much but I have no papers. How could I do that?"

"Let me worry about that. It won't be a problem. Let's plan on starting about ten tomorrow morning."

It was not a nice travel day. A hurricane had struck the west coast near Acapulco two days earlier and the remnants had traveled inland to the east. It was cloudy, with showers from time to time and gusty wind. However, Marita was excited about the trip and very upbeat.

"How long will the trip take, Juan?"

"There will need to be a couple of stops but if we have no trouble we should be at our destination by early evening."

"What kind of trouble?"

"Who knows," he answered casualty. "Car trouble, a flat tire."

She thought about his answer but then raised another point.

"I keep wondering about how we are going to get across the border. I have heard that there are guards with guns and that it is very difficult to get across."

"You worry too much. I have done this many times with no trouble. We will change vehicles at Nogales and I will make a phone call."

The crossing went as Juan had said. Marita saw that the panel truck that they were now in had a New Mexico license plate and the words Western Meds painted in the side. They stopped in a line of cars at the border and she was concerned that the guards were looking inside of the vehicles and examining papers. When their turn came, Juan and the guard exchanged nods and they were passed on through with the wave of the hand. With a big grin Juan looked over at Marita and shrugged.

The balance of the trip took several more miles. Marita continued to be excited about the trip and enjoyed looking at the country side. She did, however, dose off for short periods twice during the afternoon. As Juan had predicted it was early evening when they reached the outskirts of Albuquerque. They got off of the Interstate highway and pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant.

As they were having their meal, Marita inquired if they were going to be staying at a motel .

"No," replied Juan. "I have a house that is not far from here. I'm up here often enough that it makes sense to have a permanent location."

After breakfast the next morning, Juan indicated that he was going to look in on two of his businesses.

"You should come along rather than just spend the day here by yourself."

"Yes. I've been curious about your business," replied Marita.

They pulled up in front of a moderate-sized building in a business area. The building had a large sign on the front named Adult World.

Adult World? I wonder what that's about and what they sell?

They entered the business and right inside the door a man sat behind the counter by a cash register. He was an Anglo and very overweight. His checkered sport shirt managed to get around his belly enough to be secured by two buttons and hung over his jeans.His hair was white as was his full beard. Juan and the man shook hands. The man reached under the counter and produced a ledger and some papers which he handed to Juan. Juan opened the ledger and as he started to study the materials he spoke to Marita.

"Look around, while I talk to the manager."

At first she did not know at what she was looking. There were rows of counters with magazines and plastic cases containing movie CD's. As she looked closely she quickly came to understand that they all dealt with sex acts of various types, some of which she did not understand. She was very embarrassed and started to blush.

Why would anybody allow themselves to be filmed or photographed doing those things?

Marita walked away from the magazines and the movies over towards the far wall. She saw on a table and displayed on the wall various plastic items the purpose of which t she didn't initially understand. She quickly realized that she was looking at what she would later come to know were sex toys.

I don't understand this stuff. I suppose people must buy this. I wish we hadn't come in here.

She walked back to the front where Juan was passing the ledger and papers back to the manager.

"Things seem to be doing well."

As he nodded towards the back of the room where an opening was covered by a curtain, he asked.

"How are the booths doing?"

"Pretty good and steady."

"Do the girls come over for customers?"

"No, not very often. They must keep busy over there."

"Well, I'm going over there next and I'll find out if they need some encouragement," he said with a stern look on his face.

"Let's go Marita. We're finished here."

At first when they got back in the car, Marita hardly knew what to say. Finally she observed, "I never knew that there were places that sold those kinds of things."

"Well, there's a demand for it. I think many of the customers don't have a partner in real life and they buy things here to go home and make believe. You'd be surprised who comes in here. One night a week is ladies night and it's often the one with the biggest sales."

"I still don't think that I understand. So what are we going to do now?"

"I have another business that I want to check on now. There are a few girls that work there for me and you might like to meet them."

"Oh, that sounds nice. What kind of work do they do?"

Juan pulled the vehicle into an alley and stopoed at the rear and paused for a few seconds as he pondered how to phase his answer.

"You remember that I explained that some people are interested in having sex but don't have a partner. Some of them satisfy their needs with books, magazines or films. But others want an actual partner for a little while. They pay the girls to be their partner for a short period of time. The girls share that money with me and I provide the house where they .live and work. I also provide their food, protection and some other services."

"Isn't that sinful?"

"I suppose your priest might think so but I just see it as a service that is wanted. At the same time it provides a job for young women who might not have any other way to support themselves. Most are illegals. Well, let's go on inside."

As they left the car and walked up to the house, Marita had some anxious thoughts in her mind.

Maybe I'm just like those girls inside. I'm an illegal and except for Juan I don't have any way to support myself. If he left me I couldn't go back and live with my father.

Juan had a key to the door and they walked in without knocking. As they walked back along the hallway, a woman stepped out into the hall from a side room. She was wearing a thin-blue tank top and matching shorts. It was obvious that she was not wearing a bra. She appeared to be in her mid-forties but had a nice figure and was attractive. She glanced at Marita and nodded to Juan.

"Marita this is Maya."

"It's been nearly a month since your last visit."

"Yeah, maybe I'm going to have to start coming up more often. I was looking at the books over at the porn shop and the business from here seems to be down."

"There isn't anything going on this time of the year to bring in any out-of-towners."

"Charlie said that he hadn't seen any of your girls over there looking for customers. Doesn't look like you're making much of an effort."

The woman shrugged and nodded towards Marita.

"Did you bring some fresh meat? The word might get around with the regulars and that would help."

Juan didn't respond to that, but inquired, "Where are the other girls?"

"They're upstairs."

"I'm going up and have a little talk with them. Marita should stay down here with you."

Juan left them and the two women went into a side sitting room. There was no conversation. Marita noticed that on a table there were a number of the same kind of magazines that she had seen in the store earlier. Soon she could hear conversation from upstairs. She couldn't make out the words but soon could distinguish a loud female voice. That was followed by Juan's voice and was also very loud and he sounded angry. There was the sound of a slap and a cry.

When Juan came back downstairs he had a hostile look on his face

"That little run-away bitch that I found a couple of months ago needs to understand that she doesn't make the rules around here. I do!".

"Well, maybe they know now what's expected," he said to Maya. Keep a close eye on things. I don't want for Charlie to have to come over and get rough with them but business is business."

"Marita, I have another stop to make and I want you to stay here. I'll be back in less than an hour."

Marita nodded.

Oh dear God, I hope he doesn't leave me here. I never saw him act like this before. What will ever happen to me?

Sometime later the doorbell rang and Maya brought two middle aged Anglo men into the sitting room.

"Have a seat guys and I'll go get the girls."

"What about this little honey," the one man inquired as he nodded towards Marita. She looks great to me."

"No, she's just a friend here for a visit."

The girls were summoned from upstairs and selections were made. Money was paid to Maya, the transactions were completed and the girls and their customers went up stairs."

When the two were alone again, Maya smiled at Marita.

"Well, little one you could do well here if Juan decides to leave you. I could tell how that one older guy was checking you out."

"Oh, I don't think so. Juan and I are...

"Don't get your hopes up honey. Juan can be a great lover and a nice guy. But mostly he loves the dollar. I know from sad experience."

Juan made a twenty minute drive to a restaurant located in a small suburban strip mall. He entered and found a vacant seat at the counter. Almost immediately he was approached by a waitress.

"I don't need a menu. Tell your boss, Eduardo that Juan is here and I'd like to talk to him."

A few minutes later, she returned.

"He'd like to see you back in his office."

Eduardo rose from his desk and greeted Juan with a handshake as he entered.

"It's good to see you Juan. Business has been good and I'm hoping you are bringing me some more product."

"Yes, I have several kilos out in the vehicle. Where's the demand now?"

"The powder still remains the big seller but since we learned the process of making crack the interest there has been increasing."

Juan handed him a small slip of paper.

"Here's a list of what you're getting."

Eduardo looked at the paper, nodded and smiled. He walked over to the wall, pushed a painting to the side and opened a wall safe. From there he landed Juan several packages of currency.

"There's five hundred in each of those. You'll see that it's all right."

"Good. Well, I'll pull around to the back so you can get your goods and then I can get ready to head back."

"Not staying over?"

"No. There's always things to be done down there. I have to go back over to the girls place and take care of something and then I'll hit the interstate. By the way I now have a way to bring more product up to you."

It was after midnight. Marita had finally finished sobbing but her pillow was wet with tears. She moved to try and find a position where the pain in her groin would ease. Nothing seemed to help.

This is the worse day of my life... worse than even with my father. I thought that Juan cared for me, maybe even loved me. But, no, maybe even from the very first when he met me on the way to church he was thinking how he could use me to make money. Oh, how he tricked me. And Maya made me go to work right after he left. How many men had used me tonight? Was it four? Or five? Like a nightmare. How can I go on with this? Mother of God. I wish I could die.

In the days that followed Marita learned to adapt to the horror that her life had become. Even as she was being used she would try and will herself to imagine being at some other time and place. She was not always successful and she always felt unclean after the act was finished. On average Juan would show up about once a month and avail himself of her services, free of course. He always made a point of making her feel that she was nothing more than a whore. Anger and bitterness built up within her along with a frustration of not seeing a positive end in sight.

CHAPTER TEN

Lindsay walked slowly along the street. She was in no hurry to get to her destination, the porn shop. By midafternoon no johns had shown up at the house and Maya had sent her over to see if she could pick up a customer. Lindsay had worked at the brothel for a bit over five months. She was a run-a-way from the El Paso area as result of years of conflict with her step mother. At sixteen she had left and lived by her wits, turning an occasional trick in a guy's car. Two years later Juan had spotted her in a soup kitchen, quickly sized up her situation and she ended up working for him. It was safer and she had learned to ignore the reality of what was happening when she was servicing a guy. She liked the fact that here always seemed to be a supply of pot and blow around.

Guess that I'd better get in there and see what's up.

Maya reminded her that Juan had complained about the amount of money the house had been making and expected more

Yeah, I remember and the son of a bitch had to take it out on me. My jaw hurt for three days after that. Well, anyway here we are.

She opened the door and walked in. Charlie was sitting at his usual spot behind the counter. He recognized her with a smirk in his face.

"Things slow over there or did you come by to give me a free one for practice?"

"In your dreams, Charlie. In your dreams."

"There's a guy back in the booths. Not very long. He took five bucks worth of tokens. I noticed that he had a pretty good role. Anybody's guess if he come to jerk off or if he's looking for somethin' more."

Lindsay walked to the back of the showroom and into the booth area. There was only one with the light on and she went into the one beside it. Looking through the window she saw a middle aged man massaging himself between his legs. She went back out and tapped lightly on the door. In a few seconds the door opened and the man appeared with a questioning look on his face.

"Hi, hon, for a twenty I'll step in and finish that off for you."

He seemed nervous and tense.

"Ah, no. I wanted more than a hand job. But we can't do anything here. Do you have a place where we could go?"

"Yes, I do. But it's gonna cost you a lot more than twenty. A girl has to make a living, you know."

"Okay."

"We don't want to walk out of here together. I'll go first and be down at the corner to the right. You wait a few minutes after I leave before you come out. It's not far to my place and you'll leave there with a big smile on your face."

Lindsay left and gave Charlie a wink as she went out the door. The man exited the booth a few minutes later but not before he got a cell phone out of his coat pocket.

"I think we're on to something. Follow me at a distance after I come out of here. I'll leave the phone on."

It only took a few minutes for Lindsay and the john to reach the house. She took him around to the rear and they went inside where they were met by Maya.

"Hi there, guy. Do want to spend some time with Lindsay or do you want to see the other girls?"

":Oh, I didn't know there were other choices. Guess I'd better see what's on the menu."

Maya nodded to Lindsay who turned and went up the stairs and in a couple of minutes returned with the other four girls.

He took his time looking at them.

"I think I'll stick with Lindsay."

"That's your choice. That'll be seventy-five for a half hour."

There was a loud sound at the front door as it was pushed open and two uniformed police officers rushed into the room.

The fake john pulled his badge and Detective ID out of his coat pocket.

"You're busted ladies for operation of a brothel and engaging in prostitution. George, you'd better call for the wagon. "

He proceeded to read them their Miranda rights,

They were all processed at the police station, including having pictures taken and being finger printed. At one point when they were all alone, they were reassured by Maya.

"They have to let me make a phone call and then we won't be here long. If they question any of you alone keep your mug shut. You don't have to tell them anything."

In fact they were interviewed separately. In Marita's case she was questioned by a police woman who seemed very kind. She asked several questions about whether she was an illegal and if she had been brought to the US against her will. Marita was tempted to admit to these things but remembered Maya's warming and kept silent.

Maya made her phone call and in about an hour Charlie showed up and bail was arranged for all. He had arranged that transportation was on the way and all were soon going to be on their way back to the house. Marita was anything but pleased with that prospect and wondered if there was going to be a chance to escape from being forced back into prostitution.

"Maya, I need to go to the bath room."

"Okay, see the sign. It's back there to the right."

Marita walked into the room and back past the sinks towards the toilet booths. She noticed a door at the end of the room. She opened the door slightly and peered out into a hallway. A short distance to her left she could see another door and through the glass window the outside.

Maybe this is my chance to get away from these awful people and the terrible life that I've been living.

Without any further thought as to what might lie ahead and where she could go, Marita walked quietly down the hallway and through the door to the outside. She reached the sidewalk and hurried away from the building.

Am I free?

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Cherlyn had reached a convenient stopping point in her work about midafternoon. She turned off her computer and walked across the hall to her boss's office.

"Trevor, I finished with the payables for the month and I need to do a bit of shopping. Would it be all right if I slipped out a little early this afternoon?"

He looked at his wrist watch and smiled.

"I think we can spare you for a couple of hours. There's never been a problem with you getting your work done on time."

"Great! See you tomorrow."

Cherlyn got into her car in the parking lot.

I guess that I'd better go the service station and fill up the tank. From there the next stop will be at the supermarket. There's a Conoco a couple of blocks on the way to Whole Foods. That should work.

Cherlyn took her time in the supermarket. She was glad to have some extra time off from work but as she had no particular chores waiting at her house it was kind of fun to look around. In addition to the food, paper goods and related items they had lots of housewares. Most were over-priced but fun to look through.

It was the time of the afternoon that the store had several of its personnel offering samples of the food products. Cherlyn walked over to one of these locations where the demonstrator was giving out small slices of baguettes covered with a bit of bruschetta. She noticed a pretty Hispanic young woman finishing one of the samples. She snatched up another piece and hurried off.

The demonstrator looked a bit annoyed but shrugged as she handed a sample to Cherlyn.

"That's the second time she's been back. Guess she's hungry."

Cherlyn thanked the lady for the sample and continued with her shopping. Her next in-store destination was the produce section. As she was looking at the navel oranges she noticed the young Hispanic woman at another food sampling stand. In this case the demonstrator was offering pieces of peeled cantaloupe.

Cherlyn walked over and made eye contact with the young woman.

"This seems like a good time to shop. It's not so crowded."

The woman smiled and nodded but said nothing.

"I think I'll have a soda over at the café area but I hate to sit alone. Would you like to join me? My treat. My name's Cherlyn."

She extended her hand to the other woman and it was grasped.

"Thank you. My name is Marita.:"

They sat down at a table and Cherlyn looked at the menu.

"Oh, I suppose that I'll just have a coke. It's my old faithful."

"Why don't you try one of the Mexican drinks for something different."

"I have to confess that I've lived here only two years and I haven't been able to learn about the culture here and its foods. What would you suggest?"

"The jarrito sodas are very good. There are several favors and I like the tamarind the best. Good on a hot day and not so sweet."

":Sounds good to me. Maybe some cake or cookies would be good."

"Have you ever tried churros?"

"No. Never heard of them. I'm getting an education."

"Order some with chocolate for dipping."

"Anything with chocolate has to be good, Marita."

They both laughed at that.

Their food and drunk soon arrived and Cherlyn tried to make some conversation. She told Marita about growing up in the New York City area and how her brother had helped her throughout her life. She mentioned the type of work she did and about relocating to Albuqueque two years earlier.

"I only have a few friends and haven't been able to learn much about the area."

Suddenly Cherlyn noticed a disturbed, almost frightened, look come over Marita's face. She turned and saw two uniformed-police officers walking towards them. They stopped several tables away and were greeted by two ladies. She turned and looked back at Marita whose countenance had changed back to a placid look. Cherlyn paused and took a drink of her soda before she spoke and then very quietly.

"Marita, are you in some kind of trouble or difficulty? Maybe I could help you."

"I don't think anyone can help me." She paused before continuing.

"I am an illegal."

"My car is parked outside. If you are uncomfortable here we could go sit out there and talk. Or I could take you home or where you are staying."

She shook her head in the negative and tears welled up in her eyes.

"I have nowhere to go and the place where I was staying was a bad place and I was made to do bad things there. I would rather die than go back there."

"How have you been getting by?"

"I got away from that terrible place yesterday. Last night I stayed in the waiting area of the emergency room in a hospital. They were very busy and nobody seemed to notice me. I was able to sleep a little."

Cherlyn guessed correctly that Marita was a victim of human trafficking.

"Let's get out of here and go to my home. I have food and an extra room. You'll be safe and there's got to be help for a person that has had your kind of misery to deal with."

Marita had no other prospects and she nodded her agreement.

The two got up and left the café area.

That evening after the two had dinner and freshened up they sat and relaxed in Cherlyn sitting area, Marita clothes were in the laundry and she was wearing Cherlyn's spare bathrobe. She felt secure and opened up about her background. She related the sexual abuse that she experienced at the hands of her father and how she had met Juan. She was candid about the two years spent in the brothel without getting explicit but talked of the police raid and how she had escaped.

"No one should have to go through what you have," observed Cherlyn. I can see how you would be fearful of Juan funding you again and also of being picked up by the police. You're safe here but we are going to need help to know what to do."

I think I should probably call Marshall for advice. This seems pretty complicated.

It was not until the next day that she called her brother. She took several minutes to describe the situation to Marshall. He had several questions, most of which she was unable to answer.

"Well, sweetie, your life never seems to be uncomplicated. I'm going to have to do some homework. The fact that this gal is an illegal is a complication. I think that means a specialized area of the law. I've heard that there are organizations that provide sanctuary and help to illegals and victims of trafficking but I sure don't know where to start looking. I have a good friend that's a lawyer so I guess that's starting point."

"You don't know much I appreciate your help and I know Marita will also. You've always been my savior."

"That's what brothers are for. Speaking of Marita, you need to keep her under wraps and stay in your place. I don't know much about the law but I think she's a fugitive and actually you are breaking the law by giving her shelter. I'll call back in a day or so.'

CHAPTER TWELVE

The intercom buzzed and Marshall quickly pushed the button.

"Marshall, this is Estelle. The boss and I just finished talking about your situation and request. He is in agreement with the proposition but feels the same as I do in wishing there was more we could do to help."

"Well, I appreciate the thought but there are some potential legal issues in this and I wouldn't want to see the company dragged into it. By the way I appreciate the referral you gave me of that attorney who does a lot of work in the immigration area. She gave me some real insights."

"In the way of other help, I suppose that the gals downstairs could arrange for my flight to Albuquerque, They have my credit card numbers."

"I'm sure they can. When do you want to leave?"

"As soon as possible. I just have to get back to my apartment and gather up some clothes. I could be at JFK in an hour and a half."

"We'll take care of that. Good luck on your mission and keep us informed.

Late the following afternoon, Marshall arrived at the Albuquerque Sunport. It didn't take long to retrieve his baggage, hail a cab outside and be on his way to Cherlyn's place. He made one stop along the way at a Wells Fargo branch bank and was able to confirm that the letter of credit had been established.

He had given the cabbie Cherlyn's address and was curious about her circumstances.

"This is the first time that I've been here to visit my sister. What sort of an area is she living in?"

"Well, it's not the high rent district but not a bad area. Just ordinary working people, Not much crime there."

"I'm relieved to hear that."

When they reached the neighborhood Marshall noted that the area was all residential and that most of the houses were single story with only a couple being two story. The landscaping was far from ornate with only a few shrugs and no trees. He paid the cabbie, and with the short walk and few steps was at the front door and pressing the bell. In only a few seconds the door was flung open and he was greeted by Cherlyn's happy smile, cry of delight and a strong embrace.

"Oh Marshall, it's so good to see you. You are my hero!"

"I don't think I qualify as a hero. I'm just a big brother who loves his sister and is always ready to lend a helping hand if possible."

"Well, you've certainly helped me out of a number of situations in the past. Come on in out of the heat. I'll get you something cool to drink and we can talk about what's going on. The first thing is that I want you to meet my friend Marita."

The stepped inside and Marita was waiting with a pleasant look on her face and they shook hands.

"I'm glad to meet you Marita. I hope that we are going to be able to help you."

"I hope so, too. The last two men in my life were the worst of the worst. I believe you Anglos have an expression that 'the third time is the charm'. Perhaps you will be my charm."

Marshall smiled.

"That's nice of you to say. Let's get that cold drink and sit down for some conversation. I'd like to hear the full story. Only then can we decide how to proceed. One thing is for sure we are going to have to get an attorney From what I learned before I left to come out here this is not going to be simple."

Marita took some time to relate the entire story. One two different occasions she became emotional in reliving some of the events and had to pause to compose herself. She related how she accompanied Juan across the border thinking it was just for an outing and her unease as they stopped first at the adult book store and later the house of prostitution. There were some sordid details that she had not shared previously with Cherlyn who was likewise close to tears. When she finished there was lengthy-wordless pause for nearly a minute as the narrative was processed by her audience of two.

Finally Marshall spoke.

"It's hard to believe that in this day and age that this type of thing goes on. I'm certainly going to do all I can to help you Marita. It's clear to me that from the little bit of legal information I was able to get before I came out here that there are several issues. You are a victim of human trafficking, You are also an illegal. You are also a fugitive from justice on the prostitution charge. Since you can't realistically go back to Mexico, I suppose your objective would be to become a legal resident of the United States and eventually a citizen. We need to find an attorney that is knowledgeable in these areas. Cherlyn, do you know anybody to ask?"

"I could ask my boss. He's pretty well connected in the business and professional community. I'll do that tomorrow."

Two days later, Marshall entered an office building in the downtown area. After consulting the directory in the lobby area he took the elevator to the second floor and exited to a reception area. He was greeted by a middle aged woman seated at a desk.

"How may I help you?"

"I believe I'm on time for my appointment. I called yesterday . My name is Godwin."

"Which attorney are you seeing?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Is this a firm?"

"No, it's four independent attorneys who share resources such as a conference room, office equipment and two paralegals."

"And me," she added with a smile.

"I see," said Marshall. "My appointment is with Attorney Fenton."

Marshall guessed that the attorney was about the same age as he.

He's taller though. Must be at least six feet. No western garb though. That's an expensive suit he's wearing. He'd fit right in on Wall Street.

"I'm glad I could see you this afternoon Mr. Godwin."

He nodded in the direction of a young man sitting to his left

"This is Raoul. He is my paralegal and will be taking notes so I don't forget anything. Wanda said yesterday that your need for an appointment sounded urgent. How can I help you?"

"I'm from New York and out here on a mission to help a young woman who is a friend of my sister. I believe there are several legal issues in the area of immigration. In summary it's a situation involving an individual, an illegal alien who is a victim of trafficking and arrested for prostitution."

"Well that surely is a full plate. Let's start and get into the details."

It took Marshall a full half hour to relate the entire story of Marita's situation in Mexico, her entry into the United States, being forced into prostitution and subsequent arrest. Fenton stopped him on a few occasions to ask for details or clarifications.

"Did she know anything about what led to the police raid on the brothel?"

"Sometimes if business was slow at the brother, they would send the women to a nearby adult bookstore to solicit customers. That day it turned out to be an undercover cop."

"It's a heart wrenching story but, I'm sorry to say not all that unusual," observed Fenton. You think she hopes to become a U S citizen?"

"Yes. She has no one or no place to return to in Mexico. It's really her only option."

"Is your sister able to accommodate her?"

"Yes, for the foreseeable future. I am concerned for her safety and she has not been away from the house.

"That's very wise. In the mind of the trafficker she is a valuable commodity that he would like to reclaim. Moreover she is a potential witness against him in criminal charges. I would like to arrange to have her come in so I can fill in a few missing pieces in the story. I will need your number and address and I will be back in touch with you in a day or so and outline what steps I would suggest we follow."

Later that day, Charlie picked up the phone on the second ring.

"This is Adult World, Charlie speaking."

"Hi Charlie, this is Raoul."

"Raoul! Don't tell me you are out of blow already?"

"Oh no. I'm good for a while. But I came on to some information today that I think you would be interested in."

"Well, let me have it. If it's really good I might give you a break the next time you stop by for some product."

":Okay, Well the other day you told me that the whore house over on Castile Street that got busted belonged to your boss."

"That's right."

"Well. the news story that I read on that said that one of the hookers got away from the cops."

"Right again. The boss would like to get her back to work at the new location."

"Well, I think I have some information on her whereabouts."

Raoul went on to relate what he had heard in the discussion between his boss and the client, Marshall Godwin. He related that the victim had no wish to go back to work as a whore and that there had been some discussion about trafficking charges. He concluded by giving Charlie the clients address.

"Raoul, the boss is going to be very pleased to get this information, especially the worry that he might be facing some charges. He'll want to eliminate that deal. The world can survive the loss of one more hooker."

"Well, that's it Charlie. Just keep my name out of it. My job here doesn't pay as much as selling dope but you don't have to worry about getting wasted or busted."

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Marita, Cherlyn and Marshall had finished breakfast and were enjoying coffee.

"Marita's appointment with the attorney isn't scheduled until mid-afternoon," observed Marshall. So I guess we have nothing to deal with this morning. Anything that you can think of, Cherlyn?"

"Sometime very soon we are going to have to get some more groceries. I usually eat out a lot and don't keep much on hand. With three of us now, the frig is getting pretty bare. That's a chore that we could take care of."

"Fine. Give me a few minutes to shave and we'll do that. I think maybe just the two of us should go. It would be smart for Marita to stay here and not take the chance of being seen by the bad guys."

Both women nodded at that.

On the way to the supermarket, Cherlyn examined the grocery list.

":There's several things that I need. I also want to get a couple of items for Marita in the way of cosmetics. Also there's a lady's wear place a block from the supermarket. I'd like to get a couple of blouses and slacks for Marita. She has nothing but that slut-style outfit she was forced to wear at the brothel. I'm sure she'll be happy with something else and will want to look presentable when she has her appointment with the attorney. "

"No doubt about that. She seems like a nice young woman, She deserves something positive in her life."

Juan hurriedly got out of the car and went into Adult World. Charlie stopped his work unpacking new merchandise at the rear of the show room and rushed over to meet him.

"I'm glad you caught me, Charlie. I was getting ready to head back south when you called. How'd this all come down?"

"It was right out of the blue. This young guy, Raoul, who is a small-blow dealer called me. He's trying to go straight, got a paralegal certificate at the community college and is working for an attorney downtown. By pure luck a client came in whose sister had connected with your whore. How I don't know but they were talking about trying to get asylum for her. There was also talk about going for trafficking charges against you."

":That dirty little bitch. After all I did for her. You know where she is?"

"Maybe, I have the address that the guy gave to the attorney."

"Let's drive over there and take a look around before I decide what to do."

When they arrived at the general area, Juan drove down the street at a moderate spend and then after making some turns came back the opposite direction, He parked a few houses up the street and on the other side from the destination address.

"Well, this looks like a working class neighborhood and that's good. People will be at their jobs and not too many witnesses if we come back during the day. Doesn't seem to be any street activity. Let's get back to your place and round up that guy, Matt, that we've used before when we needed some muscle."

"You think we might have trouble?"

"Hard to say. We don't know how many people are here. It's just better to be prepared."

It was close to midday when Marshall and Cherlyn started their return from the shopping trip.

"We should be all set for food for the next several days but I'm anxious to see Marita's reaction to these clothes that we got for her."

"Oh, I'm sure that she'll be pleased, Cherlyn, and happy to see us."

They could not know that they would shortly be encountering other individuals anxious to meet them but not for positive reasons.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Juan, Charlie and Matt, the third individual being the additional muscle that might be required for any coming confrontation, made their way back to where they expected to find Marita. Matt was even bigger than Charlie, well over six feet in height with the physique of an NFL linebacker. Body cleanliness was not a high priority with Matt. Juan turned on the air conditioner to the highest speed in an effort evacuate the body odor. It had not taken long to find Matt and to negotiate the return trip. They parked the car as before on the other side of the street and two houses away.

"Let's just sit here for a while and see what's going on," observed Juan, as he scanned up and down the street.

They had not waited long when they saw another car coming down the street from the opposite direction they had traveled and stopped in front of the house that was the object of their interest. Almost immediately a man and woman got out and started retrieving bags out of the back seat.

"Okay, guys let's go."

As Juan and his two helpers crossed the street and approached the two people, he suddenly recognized Cherlyn.

Que' rollo con el hoyo! What the hell is she doing here? She must be the broad that's giving Marita protection.

Juan walked directly up to Cherlyn, who eyes widened with recognition.

"Miguel, what are you doing here?"

"I'm hoping to retrieve some of my property that got misplaced."

"Misplaced property? What are you talking about."

"My property is a young whore by the name of Marita. She owes me a lot of money for food, housing and other things. She needs to get back to work."

Marshall was listening to this conversation, put down the bag of groceries he had been holding and walked up to Juan.

"Look fella you are way off base. You're nothing but a low life pimp and you're not getting your slimy hands on that woman again."

Marshall was unaware that Matt had walked up behind him. Before he was able to say anything further to Juan, Matt delivered a vicious blow to his head with a blackjack. Marshall fell to the pavement, and lay there motionless.

Cherlyn screamed and knelt by his side.

"Charlie take this bitch to the car and keep her quiet. This is another complication but I'm going in to look for the other one. Take that guy's money and ID. Keep the cops guessing."

The elderly lady that lived alone in the house next to Cherlyn's place usually spent the daylight hours in an easy chair by the front window watching the street. She had observed the brawl between the thugs and Cherlyn and Marshall. She continued watching for a few minutes after everyone left and became concerned when the fallen man did not move. Finally she called 911 and told them of the injured man and the block numbers

The police arrived in a few minutes and followed later an ambulance. The man was placed in the ambulance and it left quickly. The two policemen stayed on the scene and looked carefully around. One of them spoke on the radio in the car and then walked in the direction of the woman's home.

Oh my. I don't want to get involved in this.

She met the policeman at the door. She denied knowing anything other than seeing the man lying in the street and making the phone call.

The policeman walked back to the street where his colleague was waiting.

"Well, the old girl that made the call didn't know anything or if she did wasn't saying anything. He could have just been walking along and got jumped by somebody. Doesn't seem likely in this neighborhood, though. Let's try a few other houses in the immediate area and see if anybody else saw anything."

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Marita had been expecting the return of Cherlyn and Marshall and from time to time looked out the front window. She wondered about the car parked across the street which was unusual for this time of the day. As she gazed out the window Cherlyn's car pulled up in front. In the next few moments she witnessed the confrontation and assault, Marita was shocked as she recognized Juan and Charlie.

How did they find me?

Her surprise turned to terror as she saw Juan looking at Charlie while he pointed to the car and began to walk briskly towards the front of the house.

I would die rather than ever let that evil man get his hands on me again.

Instinctively, she turned and ran to the rear of the house, stopping only to snatch a clutch purse belonging to Cherlyn from the kitchen table. She rushed out the back door, down the steps and out to the alley. She started running as fast as she could down the alley to a side street and beyond for several blocks until she stopped at a corner to catch her breath.

I need to get off the streets and out of sight. They may be riding around looking for me.

She turned and trotted down the side street at the end of which she was relieved to see a large church.

Maybe I can find safety there.

Marita mounted the steps and entered the church through the open door. She looked the length of the sanctuary and saw a priest arranging items on a table in front of the altar.

Will he help? The last time I asked a priest for help I ended up getting badly beaten.

She walked the length of the center aisle and approached the priest. He was older, a diminutive man and hardly taller than Marita. His distinguishing characteristic was a full-shock of white hair. Up close she could see that he had a kindly smile.

"What brings you to God's house, my child?"

Marita paused. She wondered how to describe her problems.

"I am an illegal and was forced to be a whore. I escaped but they are hunting me," she blurted out. "Please help me Father."

The priest paused for only a few seconds.

"Come with me, child."

In a room at the rear of the church, a middle aged woman sat at a desk absorbed in some paper work.

"I need to interrupt, Sister. This woman needs immediate transportation to the place of refuge. She is a victim of trafficking and may being followed. Take the van where she can sit in the back and may not be seen. "

"At once Father. Come with me," she added as she nodded to Marita. "My name is Bernice."

The trip from the church took only about twenty minutes and they arrived at an ordinary looking, two-story house in the outskirts of the city. Bernice pulled into the driveway and turned into a parking area at the rear of the house, concealed from the street.

"This is our destination and the people here are very nice. We'll go right in."

At the back door, Bernice tapped out a code number on the key pad. They entered and almost immediately were met by another, in this case, a smiling woman.

"Bernice, it's so good to see you. It looks like you've brought me a new friend. What's your name sweetheart?"

"I am called Marita. Where am I and what's going to happen to me?"

"There's no great rush to learn about your troubles. Bernice would not have brought you here unless you needed help. For now it is important for you to know that you are safe and you are going to be helped. My name is Juanita. Let's all sit down in the kitchen and have some ice tea and a snack if either of you are hungry."

Marita had the opportunity to observe Juanita as she got glasses and a pitcher of ice tea from the refrigerator.

I suppose she's about the same age as Bernice but her grey hair makes her look older. She has several extra pounds and has a motherly look to her. She's wearing a nice flowered dress. No pant suits for her.

For the first few minutes the two older women engaged in casual conversation. They inquired about each other's health and remarked about the weather. They each made kind references to the priest and talked about the church where Marita had sought sanctuary. Marita soon realized they were nuns.

"How long will I stay here," interrupted Marita?

"Only as long as it takes for you to get help for you to feel secure and walk in God's way," replied Juanita. If you only need transportation to return to your home and family that will be provided. If there are matters of the police or immigration officers we can get lawyers to help, pro bono."

Marita raised her eyebrows in a questioning way at that term.

"That just means, free," offered Bernice. If you feel comfortable telling us about the difficulties that brought you to us, now would be a good time to start."

For the next half hour Marita related the events of the last four years, starting with the death of her mother, the abuse by her father through meeting Juan and being forced into prostitution. She ended telling of the last several days including the police raid of the brothel and the confrontation between Marshall and Cherlyn and Juan and his thugs.

Bernice interrupted only once, asking for some details of the episode where she had asked the priest for help from her father's abuse and how that ended.

"It's sad that some people serve God in ways that are not helpful. You will not experience that here."

"You must be tired and full of stress," suggested Juanita. I'm going to take you upstairs where you can rest. We'll look in the large-clothes closet in the hall. There are a lot of clothes of various styles and sizes. You'll feel better not dressed like a hooker."

"Marita! Marita! What's wrong? Wake up!"

Marita opened her eyes and sat up, turned her head rapidly in all directions and then slumped back into bed. She wiped perspiration from her forehead, closed her eyes and appeared to be in a relaxed state.

"Oh my God, Juanita, another of those terrible nightmares. Two really disgusting men doing awful things to me and forcing me to... Oh God, will I always have these."

Juanita leaned down and took her hand. She smiled and gently shook her head.

"I don't know. We have scheduled an appointment for you with a counselor for tomorrow morning and maybe she can help you rid your mind of all this. It may take time. It's unfortunate that for over four years you had to suffer this kind of abuse and it's only been two week since you escaped."

Yes, four years, she thought. And I was sure that when I left home it was going to be for the better. What a terrible mistake.

"Perhaps, Marita, after you get more relaxed and feeling secure, we can start thinking about your future and how you can put your life back together."

"I hope so. My new friend and her brother had started to help me but I guess that's all a ruined dream now. Their lives may be in danger also and there's nobody to help."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Juan walked briskly out of the house and over to the car. Charlie was seating in the driver's seat. Matt was in the back seat trying to hold Cherlyn as he lay partially on her. She was restrained with flexi cuffs and rendered speechless by a gag secured with duct tape.

"Looks like she was not being very cooperative, Matt."

"Yeah, she gave me a hard time."

"Well, the next time she starts squirming, get your hand in her pants and give her a hard time right back."

"Wasn't Marita in there?"

"If she was, Charlie, I couldn't find her. The back door was open. She probably heard the ruckus out front and lit out. Drive around a bit in the area. We might get lucky and see her."

They circled the area in all directions for several blocks but came up empty.

"Better get back to your place, Charlie. Before we know it the cops may be around if somebody reports the hero we left lying in the street."

"What the hell am I going to do with her there?"

"This will only be temporary. I can't take her in my place until after dark. We'll put her in one of your viewing rooms and lock her in until then."

Cherlyn turned on her side and tried to get comfortable in the new position. It was difficult with her one hand cuffed to the metal side of the headboard.

This is better than being tied to that pipe on the wall in the dirty book store where I was unable to move. I don't know how many hours I was there but it seemed like forever. At least here I have a bed to lie on. I wish I had my clothes. The bedding is the only thing I have to cover myself.

The door opened and Juan walked into the room.

"When are you going to let me go?"

"I don't know when or if I'm going to let you go," Juan replied, with a shrug. Things are complicated since you know me from your trucking business. If you were just some nameless do-gooder that liked to help hookers, I could take you to Mexico City and set you up as a high priced call girl. We'd both make some serious money. Now I don't know. I have a lot of money tied up in those Tractors and they are just now starting to pay off."

"You can just forget about turning me into a whore."

"Oh, you think not? Well, I might have to have Matt come here to see you a couple of times daily for a week or so. Kinda like a training program. You might be a bit more willing to cooperate. Think about it."

Oh my God. What have I gotten myself into? There's nobody to help me.

"Where's my brother?"

"Your brother? You mean the guy we had to pop back there at your place? I've no idea where he is. Maybe somebody called an ambulance."

"Well, that gives me a thought. I wonder how much he'd pay to get you back in one piece?"

"Please give me my clothes back."

Juan grinned.

"No. I like to look at you and fantasize about how much I'm going to enjoy fucking you when the time comes. Besides, if you'd manage to get out of here you couldn't get very far bare assed."

PART THREE

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The bump of the plane brought Garth out of his doze.

That must have been the flaps coming down. I guess we're starting our descent down into Albuquerque. I must have taken a short nap.

He looked forward in the cabin and saw that the Fasten Seat Belts sign was lighted. The Captain's voice came on announcing their arrival and thanking the passengers for traveling on Southwest Airlines.

It had been a busy two days for Garth. After he had agreed to take on the assignment that Estelle had described, things moved very quickly. They decided to pack what he would need for the trip and forego breakfast in favor of eating on the way. As they traveled back towards the city, Estelle called her office and gave directions to obtain funds and airline tickets for the trip. She also asked for copies of a picture and descriptive data from Marshall's personnel file. By early afternoon when they arrived back in the city all had been arranged for his flight out the next morning from JFK.

Garth retrieved his luggage and headed for the exit of the main building at the Albuquerque International Sunport. He was not prepared for the blast of hot air that hit him as reached the outside. Guess that I'll have to get used to this.

He immediately saw the signs for Enterprise car rental.

He walked inside and up to the counter where he was greeted by a middle-aged woman. She was dressed conservatively in a yellow, pastel pant suit. Her dark hair and olive complexion suggested she might be Hispanic.

"Welcome to Albuquerque. How may I help you?"

"Well, I have a reservation for a rental that my firm contracted yesterday, "replied Garth as he placed a paper on the counter."

She looked at the document and nodded.

"Oh yes. That's all in order. We have you all set up with a midsized Chevrolet out in Aisle Three. I'll get you the keys and just need you to sign a couple of places on the rental agreement. Is there anything else that we can do for you today?"

"Well, yes, there may be. Three weeks ago on the Twenty-third of May, a fellow employee in our company arrived here on a business matter which has become somewhat complicated and I've come out to help him wrap things up. His name is Marshall Godwin. It would save me some effort if he might have given any indication where he was going to be staying."

"I doubt it but let me look."

She looked through a file drawer and soon produced a document.

"Oh, yes. I was on that morning and I remember the gentlemen. It was a very slow day and he asked me if I could recommend a motel on the way into the city. I can give you the same advice I gave him. Actually you're on the edge of the City. Just get out on the interstate and head north and get off at the first interchange and go east on Gibson Boulevard. The first major intersection you come to will be University Boulevard, on the left. There are two motels there. One is called the Hawthrone and I believe the other is a Quality Inn. I've never stayed at either but they're close by."

"Well, that a starting point and thanks very much. So I'll get the car and be on my way."

Garth looked around the motel room. Basic but adequate, he thought. Anyway if all goes well, I don't expect to be spending a lot of time around here looking at television. My efforts better start improving, though. It seems that Marshall stayed here but only for two nights and they either didn't know or didn't want to tell me if they had any idea where he went. Concern about their guest's privacy the manager said.

He looked in the phone directory for a listing for Marshall's sister, Cherlyn. No luck. He then searched for his old friend Sean with equally negative results. If he went ahead and got a PI license, maybe I'll find him in the Yellow Pages.

Under Private Investigators he found a listing of NYPD West.

Looks promising.

On the second ring, the phone was answered. "NYPD West. How may we help you?"

"This is a shot in the dark. My name is Garth Koslof and I'm wondering if your agency is headed by a long-ago friend of mine, Sean Caffrey?"

"Indeed it is. He's in the office now if you'd like to speak with him."

"Yes, I would."

"Would you hold for a moment, Mr. Koslof?"

"Sure, will do."

After a few seconds, he heard a familiar voice.

"Garth, you old horses ass. You're the last person I expected to hear from. What's up?"

"Well, I guess you could say I'm out here in Albuquerque on a mission."

"You got be kiddin' me. How the hell is the NYPD interested in anything out here?"

"Sean, the NYPD is ancient history and it's a long story. I haven't had lunch and maybe we could get a sandwich and a beer somewhere and I'll give you the whole poop."

"Okay, tell me where you're at and I'll pick you up."

The restaurant was very clean with a varied menu. Sean knew that most the restaurants had offerings that were heavy in the direction of Mexican cuisine and he had no idea if Garth was into that. They were served promptly and didn't really get into detail talk about Garth's mission right away. As Garth consumed his Reuben sandwich he had a chance to observe his former partner.

Sean has traveled his retirement years rather gracefully, Garth thought. The mustache and carefully trimmed beard, both grey, looked good on him and the facial features had changed very little. Yes, he had put on a few pounds but they were well distributed. It looks like I may have to buy some more casual clothes if I'm here very long. Those khaki slacks, sport shirt and string tie make me look really out of place in this business suit.

"Has your retirement out here worked out as you had hoped, Sean?"

"Yes, overall it has been quite satisfactory. It's a lot different here than back at the Big Apple. Life moves at a slower place. My retirement income is more than adequate and what I make as a PI allows for extras. My daughter is divorced but she does alright as a social worker. I've got two little granddaughters to spoil. It took a while to adjust to the summer heat out here but we have several nice months. I'm glad I made the move."

Garth finished his sandwich and launched into a recitation of his difficulty with NYPD and the circumstances that had brought him to Albuquerque. For the next ten minutes he talked and Sean listened attentively without questions or comments.

"So that's about the long and the short of it," said Garth, as he leaned back in the chair and reached for his mug of beer.

For a few seconds, Sean just looked at him wordlessly and then shook his head.

"You really got screwed over by the City but I was with the Department long enough to know that when a new mayor came on the scene there are usually changes and not always for the better."

He paused for a moment ant then continued.

"So then this business about this coworker of Estelle's and his sister, how do you plan on proceeding with that?"

"To be perfectly honest, Sean, I'm going to need help. The only thing I've been able to do in the few hours that I've been here is to not be able to locate Marshall and determined that his sister is not in the phone book. My hope is that you can help me out. I'm not talking about a freebee. I have funds from the company."

"Yeah, I'm afraid that you would need help. It would take at least three months for you to go through all the red tape to get licensed as a PI, after you established residency. And you'd have to start from scratch to get a carry permit. We have no reciprocity with a liberal-gun control state like New York. As it turns out, I'm not real busy now and your deal sounds interesting. Better than seventy-five percent of the stuff that comes my way is somebody wanting to get pictures of their spouse in the sack with somebody else."

Sean took a drink of his beer and paused before he continued.

"Well, I don't have anything pressing this afternoon so why don't you go back to the office with me and let's see what we can come up with in the way of a game plan."

"Sounds good to me, Sean. I've got the check. Let's get out of here."

Sean's office was on the north side of Albuquerque but the trip on the Interstate took only about thirty minutes. It was located in a small strip mall and consisted of a reception area, Sean's office and a small conference room. The receptionist, Juana, was an attractive woman in her mid-thirties and on the petite size. With her dark hair and complexion Garth assumed she was Hispanic which he later found out was correct.

In introducing her to Garth, Sean noted that she was capable, efficient and kept the office running.

"Moreover, if the occasion requires it, she can lie in a convincing fashion to bill collectors or irate clients."

Seated in his office, Sean observed, "Let's see if we can come up with some basic information. I've been out here long enough that I've developed several contacts with the various law enforcement outfits as well as some of the governmental agencies that are information sources."

"What can I do to help? "Garth inquired.

"See if you can find out where the sister works or was working out here. I believe you said she had a management job in accounting with a trucking firm. That suggests to me it would be one of the larger operations. Use the other phone in the conference room and call the Chamber of Commerce to get the names of the top five trucking outfits. If they want to know why just give them some bullshit. Then get on Juana's computer and look up their web sites; sometimes they have a listing of key personnel. Or you could call them and say you're selling accounting software and ask for her. If you don't get a hit mumble some excuse and hang up."

So for the next half hour the two former associates engaged in what they knew as "good old fashioned police work". Working on the trucking companies Garth got the company names without any difficulty. However none of their web sites gave any listing of key personnel and it was not until the third telephone call that he had any luck.

"Intermountain Transfere. How may I direct your call?"

"Good afternoon. Yes, I'd like to speak with Cherlyn Godwin."

"I'm sorry but Ms. Godwin isn't in the office today. Can someone else help you?"

"Well, no, I specially wanted to talk with her. Do you expect she'll be in tomorrow or could you perhaps give me her home phone number? "

"On no we're not permitted to give out home numbers. Could you hold for a moment, please?"

Garth waited a few minutes and then heard a man's voice.

'Good afternoon. My name is Trevor Brown. I'm Manager of this office. How can I help you?"

"I'm not sure. My name is Garth Koslof and I hope what I'm going to tell you doesn't sound like a shaggy dog story but it is complicated. I'm a retired New York Police Department detective. My mission here is to try and locate the brother of your employee, Cherlyn Godwin. A close personal friend of mine is a co-worker with Cheryln's brother, Marshall. About three weeks ago Marshall came out here from New York leaving only a vague explanation about needing to help his sister with some problem. It is a matter of concern that there has been no word from him since. A starting point to me in trying to locate Marshall seemed to be finding Cherlyn."

"What brought you to us?"

Garth smiled.

"I guess you could say it was just dumb luck. All we knew was that she had secured employment with a trucking company. So I've been calling your competitors and got the hit when I called you."

"Well you're very resourceful. Cherlyn came to work for us about two years ago. An excellent employee, she knew the accounting field and was very dependable. It was completely out of character that about a month ago she started acting somewhat distracted and then one day didn't show up for work. We haven't seen her since then. She was a very private person and we had no idea where she lived. We had only a cellphone number and called frequently but never got an answer."

He paused and then continued.

"We contacted the police after a few days but they seemed only mildly interested I suppose that was because she was adult, single and had no relatives in the area. We've remained concerned but haven't known what to do."

"Well, I'm just getting started. I've teamed up with another former cop from New York who was sort of my mentor in law enforcement several years ago. After retiring he moved out here and is licensed as a private investigator. So he has access to data not normally available to ordinary citizens. So I'm hopeful that we can get some leads to follow up on. We'll keep you informed."

"We'll certainly appreciate that. Oh, I don't know if it's important but about three days before Cherlyn dropped off our radar she asked me if I could recommend an attorney that dealt in immigration matters. So I gave her the name of a man I've known for a number of years, Gordon Fenton."

"You never know what's important. I'll follow up on that."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Sean walked into the conference room carrying two mugs of coffee and sat down across the table from Garth.

"Well how are you making out?"

Garth shook his head.

"Not so great. I did have a bit of luck and was able to find out the name of the company where Marshall's sister worked. The bad news is that she showed up missing a couple of weeks ago. Turns out that she was a very private person and they didn't know where she lived. They talked to the cops about a missing person case but no results there. So now it seems we've got two people missing. Did you do any good?"

"No. I checked with my usual sources in the police department and a couple of nonprofit agencies that women sometimes turn to, but no luck."

Garth took a sip of his coffee before he said anything more.

"It's starting to look like a dead end. I did get one tidbit from the place where the sister worked that might be worth checking out."

"What was that?"

"Her boss said that for a few days before she turned up missing Cherlyn was acting a bit distracted. She asked him if he could recommend an attorney. He gave me the guy's name. Yeah here it is, Gordon Fenton," said Garth, as he looked at his notes.

"Well, we have no other leads at the moment. That name doesn't ring a bell with me but there a lot of lawyers in this town I never heard of. Let's check the phone book and I'll put my P I hat on and give him a call."

Garth reviewed materials that Estelle had provided from Marshall's personnel file while Sean made the call. These included a photograph, physical description and even a set of fingerprints.

"We may be getting somewhere, Garth. Marshall did, in fact, meet with the attorney but never showed up for the follow up appointment. He wouldn't say much about the nature of the issue that they talked about. He wants to meet with us this afternoon. I guess he wants to check us out."

Garth and Sean were escorted in to the attorney's office by the receptionist, accompanied by the paralegal, Raoul.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen. I'm Gordon Fenton. Please have a seat."

"Thank you, sir. I'm Sean Caffrey and this is Garth Koslof. We were co-workers with the New York City Police Department several years ago. Garth is here as a consultant to the company for which Marshall Godwin works. Mr. Godwin's firm is concerned that they have not heard from him since he came here on a family matter recently. As I indicated I am a licensed Private Investigator. Here are my credentials," Sean concluded, as he handed his license and badge over.

Gordon studied the items carefully and glanced at some notes on his desk.

"It's clear that you are who you say you are. I took the liberty of looking you up in the directory of the state Bureau of Professional Licensure. I trust Mr. Koslof has some ID with him."

He paused for a few seconds as he looked at Garth's New York Driver's License and then continued.

"Gentlemen, as you are or were involved with law enforcement, you understand the concept of attorney/client confidentiality. I felt the need to be especially careful in this instance since the matter that Mr. Godwin and I discussed appeared to involve illegal immigrants, human trafficking, and prostitution. This particular situation may be even broader. There was reference to an adult bookstore and it wouldn't be a surprise if drug trafficking was involved. The people involved in these activities, play for keeps and his life could be in danger. Where are you in your investigation?"

"Almost at a dead end and you know more than we do. Both Mr. Godwin and his sister are apparently missing and if there is criminal activity somehow involved we need to find them and quickly."

"From what Mr. Godwin told me, somehow his sister had connected with a young Mexican woman, who was here illegally and a victim of trafficking. The sister enlisted the help of Mr. Godwin to deal with the issues the young woman is facing. I believe the Mexican woman's name was Marita. "

"Well that's something," observed Garth. It's still hard to know where to start."

"Well, I might be able to help a bit. Raoul, look in your notes. Didn't Mr. Godwin give us an address?"

"Yes, it's here on the client reference sheet."

"Sean, do you know where that is?"

"Sure do. I believe that's our next stop this afternoon. This is a big help, Mr. Fenton."

"This is the street, Garth. Now let's look for number four sixty-eight. Must be in the next block."

"There it is, on the right. Just pull over in front."

The two men exited the car and walked up to the front door. Sean tried the door knob, and with a surprised look on his face, discovered that it was unlocked. He shrugged and walked in followed by Garth.

"Hello. Hello, anybody home?"

There were several seconds of silence and no answer.

"Guess we might as well look around, Garth."

They went ahead on in to the kitchen. Everything looked well ordered. Sean went over to the sink and discovered a wastepaper basket in the area underneath. He pulled it out, sat it on the kitchen table and started pulling out its contents. With a look of anticipation he grabbed an envelope. He smiled as he turned to Garth.

"Looks like we've hit paydirt, old buddy. It's a piece of junk mail addressed to Cherlyn Godwin."

"Great. There's no doubt that Marshall was staying here but let's try and confirm that."

In the next few minutes, in the living room by a foldout-sofa bed they found an expensive piece if luggage monogramed with the letters MEG. There were two bedrooms. The one was fully appointed with a variety of female clothing and cosmetics. The bed in the other room showed evidence of being occupied but no other items other than a bathrobe and slippers.

"Well, Sean, it seems pretty clear that this is Marshall's sister's place. They were here with someone else, likely the Mexican-illegal woman that the attorney mentioned. That's a start but where are they now?"

"I guess I'm going to have to contact some of my friends in law enforcement. Let's go back to the office."

They left the house and as they were about to get in the car Sean noticed the window curtains moving in the house next door. He immediately turned and walked up to the door and knocked. An elderly lady opened the door and the two engaged in talk for several minutes. At the end of the conversation he came back to the car with a grim look on his face.

"What was that all about?"

"Well, that old gal is the neighborhood busybody. Fortunately, for us I might add. She had information but it's not all good. Apparently, there was some sort of a skirmish out front here a few days ago. Three men confronted Cherlyn and a man she didn't recognize which we can assume was Marshall. Marshall was struck in the head and fell to the ground. Cherlyn was taken away by the men. The lady called the police who came and later an ambulance that took Marshall away. She didn't see anyone else but she thought there had been another woman living there. That may have been the Mexican woman, Marita. "

"What now?"

"Same as before. If the cops were here there will be some kind of a report."

Garth sat in the small conference room adjacent to Sean's office and was going over notes. Sean came in juggling two cups of coffee and a small notebook. He sat down and started paging through the notebook.

"The substation closest to the location of the incident is just six blocks away. I know one of the detectives there so let's give that a shot," said Sean as he picked up the phone.

"Yes, hello. I'd like to talk with Craig Gatlin."

"Well it's kind of a personal matter. We're old friends. My name is Sean Caffrey."

"Doing great, Craig. How about yourself?"

"Glad to hear that. Well I'm trying to track down a couple of people and you might be able to help me."

Garth listened while Sean gave a summary of some type of incident at the location of Cherlyn's residence that might be relevant to his interest in a person he was trying to locate. Garth noted that Sean gave only limited details so as not to appear to be interfering in an active police investigation. He did mention a possible connection to trafficking situation. Sean gave answers to some questions posed by his friend. After a brief pause, Sean took down several notes and finally acknowledged his friends help.

"This is going to be helpful, Craig. I appreciate your help. Let me know any time I can return the favor. Actually I have uncovered that there's a dirty bookstore that might be connected to this."

"Hmm. Interesting. There's one called, Adult World, that's only a few blocks away from a brothel we busted a few days ago. It could bear watching."

Sean replaced the phone, studied his notes and then nodded to Garth.

"We're getting somewhere, I think. According to incident report the victim had no identification on him and was still unconscious when he was taken by ambulance to the hospital downtown. They have checked back with the hospital and he is in a coma."

"The hospital seems like our next stop, Sean."

The two men left the car in the large parking garage directly across the street from the hospital.

"Where do you think we start here?" questioned Garth, as they entered the main lobby.

"Since the Feds passed that HIPPA thing it's tough to get information on a patient unless you're a spouse or other close relative. Last year I was in for a couple of days with a UTI and they wouldn't even tell me the name of the other guy in the room.'

"Given the nature of this thing, I guess we had better start at the top," said Sean, after a pause. "Let's look at the directory over there by the elevator."

They two men tried to be patient as they waited in the foyer area outside the Administrators office. It was not large, containing a loveseat-sized sofa, three occasional chairs and a small table featuring Native American pottery. Other decorations left little doubt of the southwest influences. A Georgia O'Keeffe poster called Ranchos Church, an unattributed western landscape, and a small print which Garth thought was a stick figure until a smiling Sean identified it as Kokepelli set the scene. The floor covering was highlighted with Navajo designs. The small magazine rack included House Beautiful and Wine Spectator. No dog eared-last year's People magazine in this upscale setting.

After about twenty minutes, the door to the interior opened and the receptionist appeared.

"The Administrator will see you now gentlemen."

They walked into the room and Garth was immediately struck by the occupant's work area, remembering his large desk strewn with piles of papers at the police department. By contrast this arrangement consisted of a comfortable looking chair facing a small-waist high table about the size of a night stand. On the table were a telephone and a laptop computer.

The man who stepped forward to meet them was imposing. He appeared to be a few inches over six feet in height and very fit. In his late fifties he had a full head of salt and pepper hair. No western garb, he was dressed in an expensive grey business suit. He extended his hand in welcome first to Sean and then Garth.

'Welcome gentlemen and please have a seat. I understand you are Mr. Koslof and Mr. Caffrey and my name is Dan Keiser. I'm told you are searching for a missing person. I'm not sure how we can help you but let's hear about your situation."

At a nod from Sean, Garth proceeded to relate the entire story by first identifying himself and Sean, the nature of the mission, its current status and their interest in determining if the hospital's comatose patient was Marshall Godwin. Keiser looked at them thoughtfully and then questioned them in two areas.,

"Your story is unusual but plausible. Give me the name and number of the police official that informed you of our patient."

He then spoke with Craig Gatlin, and asked several questions.

"Well, that seems to check out. Do either of you personally know our patient and if not, how would you identify him?"

By way of answer, Garth handed him the pictures, physical description and fingerprint data from Marshall's personnel file that he had brought along.

"Well, gentlemen lets go on up to Room 617 and see the patient."

When they arrived at the desired location, they were confronted by a No Visitors sign and a uniformed security guard sitting in a chair in front of the door.

"We need to go in, Cesar. It's official business and I can vouch for the gentlemen with me."

"Yes sir, Mr. Keiser. I'll just need you all to sign this log book."

Inside the room, Keiser examined the patient file at the foot of the bed.

"He suffered a pretty severe concussion but according to the last scan there doesn't seem to be any permanent damage. The last couple of visits to check for vital signs there appeared to some eye movement. That's a welcome sign and he may come out of this very soon. Well let's take a look."

He took a look at the photograph and then looked at the face of the man lying in bed.

"There's not any question but that this is your friend Mr. Godwin," he said with a smile. I guess we're going to be able to fill in a few blanks on the admittance file. We'll need to contact the police although there's no point in them coming in until he exits the coma."

"I guess I'm going to have to give Estelle a call and let her know that we've found Marshall," said Garth, as they left the hospital.

"Good idea but it's one down and one or two to go."

"Adult World, this is Charlie."

"Raoul here, Charlie. You and your boss may be in a load of shit with that run-a-way hooker."

"What now?"

"There were two men in to talk to my boss about the whore. He gave them the address of the guy and his sister that were trying to help her as well as the hooker's name. One of them is a PI and they are both former cops. So you're not dealing with a couple of amateurs. The other thing was a mention of an adult book store. That's all I know but if they start digging you guys could be in hot water."

"Thanks for the poop. I'll pass it along."

Juan was very troubled when the information was passed on from Charlie. He quickly made arrangements to return to Albuquerque from Mexico. After some thought he called back to Charlie and told him to get the name or address of the private investigator.

I need to get control of this situation quickly and can't let it become a news item. El Serpiente does not like any publicity that might find its way back across the border and provide a link to him. He is beyond concerned that something could lead to his extradition to the States where there are outstanding warrants for his arrest.

Juan reasoned that it would be very difficult to find Marita on his own. He decided his approach would be to shadow the private investigator and the man working with him. They might lead him to Marita and he would make her disappear. Or he might be able to arrange for them to have an "accident". In either case Cherlyn would be at a loss to cause any more problems.

I'll figure out what to do with her later. In the meantime she'll be best kept locked up here. The housekeeper and the guard can take care of her. In the meantime there are other matters to be taken care of.

"Claudio, this is Juan. We may soon have trouble with deliveries and have to find another company that uses independents. Until you hear from me differently you'll be carrying double loads of blow north. I'll be in touch with El Serpiente and make the arrangements there."

"Si. Jose and I both will have loads of vegetables to take north on Wednesday. We can pick up the product before that and get it in the compartments. Will Charlie be meeting us at the usual place to unload?"

"Yes, he will. Just let him know and give him a time."

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Garth and Sean had returned to his office and were sitting in the conference room.

"What do you think our next step is, Sean."

"The Mexican woman that Cherlyn was trying to help is missing but maybe she found sanctuary somewhere. There are a couple of entities that I know of that try and provide help to women in those situations. I can try and make some inquiries. This can get very tricky as they are very cautious. I'm going to start with a woman that I've helped before and she trusts me," he explained as he looked through an address book.

"Good afternoon. Could I speak to Clarisse, please. This is Sean Caffery."

After some friendly "catching up" conversation, Sean got down to business. He related the general story of Marita being brought to the area by a trafficker, forced into prostitution, escaping after a police raid and her current location being unknown. He also described the involvement of Cherlyn and her brother and their current fate. He made it clear that he and Garth hoped to find Marita for her own safety and to move ahead with the investigation.

"So I called you, Clarisse, to see if by chance Marita might have had the good luck to connect with your organization and if not could you run some interference for me in contacting some of the other groups that help women in these predicaments."

"She's a young woman, I understand, maybe in her twenties. What I know about her I got from the attorney that interviewed the folks that were trying to help her."

"That's too bad. But will you check with the other groups that provide help for these women? I know they have to be cautious in giving out information to people they don't know."

"That will be a great help, Clarisse. I don't have any other leads at this point and the lives of a couple of people may be hanging in the balance. Thanks a bunch. I owe you."

"It's soon going to be time to get some dinner, Garth. Why don't we go out and take care of that. It may be some time until I hear back from Clarisse."

The restaurant that Sean selected was definitely Mexican. He took the time to go over the menu with Garth and describe the items and identify which were spicy, hot or very hot. They were served by an attractive young lady and were only about halfway through their meal when Sean's cell phone went off.

"Sean here."

"Hello Clarisse. I'm really impressed that you got back to me this soon. I hope you've got some information for me."

"That's great."

"I really never heard about that group which is a plus for their security. I'll need their address and the contact. Can we go there this evening?"

"Well, I can see where they would want to call the shots. Tell her that we'll be there within the hour. Thanks a lot, Clarisse. You've been a real life saver." he said as he jotted something down on the place mat and punched off his phone.

Sean paused for a few seconds with a thoughtful look.

"I think we may have located her. At least there's a young woman with the name of Marita staying in a safe house that is operated by three churches. Her story seems to match what we learned from talking to the attorney. I have the address and the name of the woman who is in charge, Juanita. No last name. They are very cautious, to the point of being paranoid. Clarisse will call them back and tell them we'll be there soon."

They finished up their meals, left the restaurant and drove for about a quarter of a mile to get to the destination. The two-story house appeared in style to be of the nineteen-sixties. It was a mixed commercial-residential area with a hardware store on one side and parking lot on the other. There was a mid-block alley to the rear.

"The instructions were to enter from the rear of the building," said Sean as he turned off into the alley.

They took the two steps up to the stoop by the rear door and pushed the doorbell button.

They waited for several seconds unaware that they were being observed from a side window. The door was opened by a middle-aged woman.

"May I help you?"

"My name is Sean Caffrey and this is my associate Garth Kosloff. We were directed here by Clarisse Bruno. Would you be Juanita?"

"May I see your I D.?"

After examining Sean's badge and license, she returned them.

"Yes, I am Juanita," she said with a smile. Sorry for being so cautious but it's necessary in our type of activity. Come on in."

Sean and Garth followed her in through the kitchen and hallway into a sitting room. Another woman of similar age to Juanita and a young Hispanic woman were seated on a love seat.

"Don't be alarmed, Marita," said Juanita. These are good men and they may be able to help you. Please listen to what they have to say."

"Marita, my name is Sean and this is Garth. We know that Cherlyn became your friend after you got away from the bad people. She contacted her brother Marshal in New York for help. When his friends had not heard from him for several weeks they became worried and asked Garth to come here and find out what was the matter. That's what we're trying to do. Marshall was badly hurt in the street fight but he is in a coma in the hospital. We have no idea where Cherlyn is. We want to help them and you as well. What can you tell us?"

Marita seemed unsure and looked at Juanita as if for guidance.

"It's okay to tell them what you know Marita. They are good men and only want to help."

Marita nodded and started to talk. She did not feel comfortable getting into a lot of detail about her prior life in Mexico and meeting Juan but simply stated that he had tricked her into coming north to the States.

"What was Juan's last name?" inquired Sean.

"Vega, Juan Vega."

"When you arrived, did he take you directly to the brothel?"

"No. First we went to one of his other businesses, a store where they sold books and films of people...

"Having sex?"

"Yes."

"Was it very far from the brothel?"

"No, it was only a short walk. Sometimes Maya would have some of us go over there to pick up men and bring them back."

"Who was Maya?"

"She was the boss in charge in charge of everything. She handled all of the money."

"Do you remember the name of the book store?"

"Yes. It was Adult World and Charlie was the man who ran it."

"Did Juan have other businesses?"

"I think so but I never found out what they were."

"Were the drugs at the brothel?"

"Yes. Juan would bring them on from time to time. There was something like tobacco that the other women smoked. They called it pot or weed. There was a white powder they called blow and sucked up their noses. I never used either of those things."

"Garth, it looks to me like Juan was probably also in the drug business," observed Sean. Quite a little businessman and probably connected to one of the cartels."

"What do you think our next steps should be?"

"There are two things that occur to me. First, I need to get back to my law enforcement friends and let them know that we've verified the connection between the prostitution operation with the dirty book store along with human and possible drug trafficking. I'm guessing they will want to start giving it some close scrutiny."

"What's the other thing?"

"I'd like to see what we can do to help out Marita. Perhaps we should get back to the attorney."

Juanita broke in to the conversation.

"There are three attorneys that work with us on a pro bono basis that are experienced in these very complicated matters. From what I've heard, I'm guessing that Marita would qualify for a U visa."

"What's a U visa?"

"It's a specialized visa for individuals that been victims of trafficking and can lead to actual citizenship. There are some criteria and the individual must be willing to give testimony in any judicial proceedings. "

"Marita, we are very worried about Cherlyn." said Sean. Do you have any idea where Juan might have taken her?"

"He has a place in the south end of town. I was only there one time."

"Do you think you could help us find it?"

"I could try but it's been a long time since I was there. He also has a place near Morocilla where I lived in Mexico."

"Well maybe we could try finding one of them another day. On a more pressing matter, Garth, I think I'd better get back to my law enforcement friends and pass on some of this information we've learned about Juan. This guy is not just some small-time pimp. We may have stumbled on to something."

Sean's cellphone went off.

"Hello. Sean Caffrey here."

"Thanks for calling, Mr. Keiser. I'm hoping that you're calling with good news regarding Marshall Godwin? Has he come out of the coma yet."

Sean smiled and gave a thumbs up to Garth.

"Thanks. That's great news. I think that we ought to talk with him and let him know what's going on. Is he up to having visitors this afternoon?"

"That sounds great. We'll be over there in about a half hour."

At the hospital, Sean and Garth were greeted by the Administrator and a resident physician and taken up to Marshall's room. They approach the bed and saw that his eyes were open and he was observing them with interest as they advanced.

"Marshall. I'm Garth Koslof and this is my colleague, Sean Caffrey. My partner and your co-worker, Estelle, was sent out here when your employer became concerned about the length of time since they had heard from you. Estelle may have mentioned me to you."

"Yeah, you were the former cop that got screwed by the City."

Garth grinned. "That's me alright. I guess that you were out of it for a while. How are you feeling now?"

"I thought I was feeling pretty good but it turns out I'm very weak. They got me out of bed a while ago to walk and I almost fell on my butt. But look the thing that brought me out here was not me. It was Cherlyn. Where's she and what's going on? "

"I guess that I'd better bring you up to date,' said Garth.

He took several minutes to relate what had happened after he had arrived in Albuquerque and connected with Sean. When he described how they uncovered the events of the confrontation that he and Cherlyn experienced with Juan and the other thugs, Marshall nodded.

"Yes, I remember some of that until the lights went out. So what happened to Cherlyn and her friend? Marita? Was that her name?"

"Yes, we've located Marita. She's safe and okay. I'm sorry to say we haven't found Cherlyn yet."

"Well, I'm going to have to get out of here and help with that," said Marshall,

as he pushed back the covers and started to get up.

The physician stepped towards the bed.

"No indeed. You're going to be here a few days before you can be discharged. You have to get your strength back and we need to take some tests to determine the extent of your injuries, especially the concussion."

CHAPTER TWENTY

Charlie had been sitting in his van towards the rear of the parking area for about fifteen minutes. He looked at his wristwatch again.

It's five to nine. I thought it was a good idea to get here well ahead of time in case they were early. Doesn't look like that's going to happen. I hope they soon get here. It's hot as hell with the heat from all this blacktop even though it's almost nine at night. Hell of a place to be with all the stink from diesel fuel and exhaust from the trucks. I can see a sliver of the moon but no stars with all the air pollution.

Just as he was looking at his wristwatch again he gazed out through the windshield and saw the dark brown tractor pulling the refrigerated trailer along the perimeter road. The driver must have recognized Charlie's van and headed over that way. The rig came to rest in front of the van in a position that it blocked the view of anyone in the area of the restaurant.

Charlie climbed out of the van and walked over and around the front of the tractor and met Claudio as he was coming down.

"Hello there, guy. How was your trip up?"

"We had no problems."

"Where's Pablo?"

"He should be along in a few minutes. There was a traffic tie up because of an accident an hour ago and we got separated."

His prediction was correct and soon the other tractor trailer pulled into the parking area and positioned itself next to the first one.

"Let's get this stuff transferred without delay," said Charlie, as he opened the rear doors to the van. Not a good idea to hang around here and draw attention."

Charlie's warning served no purpose as they were already under surveillance. As a result of the information Sean had passed on to the police, Charlie's activities had been under close scrutiny by the States Attorney Drug Enforcement Task Force. Two dark colored SUV"s on opposite sides of the parking area had been observing the activity and the officers inside were planning the apprehension of the perps.

"Unit Two, it looks like they are making a transfer of product. The van will probably leave first and we'll follow them back to their storage area. As soon as we're out of sight you can take out the tractor trailers."

"10-4 Unit One."

It didn't take long for the two truckers unload the packages and containers of the pot and blow and take them over to the van. Charlie packed the goods into large plastic tubs in the van.

"Okay guys. Looks like we're all set and I'm going to get the hell out of here. See you the next time."

It took Charlie about a half hour to make the trip from the truck to Adult World. He drove in a very conservative manner being careful not to violate any traffic regulations.

I sure don't want to get pulled over for running a stop sign with this van load of dope.

When he reached Adult World he pulled around to the rear of the building and backed up to the steps that descended to the basement. He unlocked and folded back the metal doors that covered the stairway, opened the rear doors of the van and carried an armload of the products down. When he returned back up to the van, he was greeted by two men. One was dressed in a grey business suit and the other in dark blue sweat pants and a matching light weight jacket. Charlie was quick to notice that the latter was holding an automatic hand gun and had the letters APD stenciled on the jacket.

"Good evening, Charlie, did you have a nice drive?"

Charlie realized that he was in a world of trouble and for a moment didn't know how to react or what to say.

"I don't believe I know you fellows. What's happening?" he finally managed to mumble.

"Why you and your dope, Charlie," replied the one in the suit. That's what's happening. You're under arrest."

He proceeded to read the Miranda rights to Charlie as the other man applied hand cuffs.

Charlie protested and demanded that he be allowed to make a phone call.

"We need to get down to the station and have a little talk before you call anybody. In a couple of minutes there will be some other officers here to impound all this contraband. Looks like you've got quite an operation going. The States Attorney is really going to want to talk to you."

After Charlie left the truck stop, Pablo and Claudio decided they would go into the restaurant since they hadn't eaten for several hours. They pulled their rigs up to where others were parked, got out and went inside. Shortly after, two dark-unmarked SUV's pulled up nearby.

A half hour later, when Pablo and Claudio exited the restaurant and walked over to their rigs they were surprised to see five men waiting for them. Two of them were wearing police uniforms one of which had a German Shepard dog on a leash.

"Claudio, are we in trouble?"

"No, we should be alright. We gave all the dope to Charlie."

They proceeded to the trucks and were quickly surrounded by the five men. The dog immediately began sniffing at their trouser legs. He sat down in front of Pablo and looked up.

"I believe we've got a hit. Which one of these rigs is yours?"

"No hablas."

"Yeah, right," the officer replied in a sarcastic tone. He then pointed in turn to the two rigs with a questioning look on his face.

Pablo then pointed to his truck.

"Well let's take a look," as the officer and dog climbed up into the cab.

In a few minutes they climbed back down and the officer had a smile on his face.

"Never saw this before. Pretty clever. They've got a compartment built under the mat in the sleeping area. Could store a good bit of dope there and even an average sized person. I suppose we'll find the other cab has this setup, too."

Charlie and the two truckers were held in separate holding cells for over an hour and then taken one at a time to an interrogation room. That facility was typical of such facilities in all police stations. A single door provided access to a ten foot square room whose walls and ceiling were painted a stark while. A single electrical facility in the ceiling provided a bright light and opposite the door was a large mirror on the wall. The furniture consisted of a small table in the center of the room with a single chair on one side and two chairs on the other.

The two truckers were questioned first for a short period of time by a detective and an interpreter. Both readily gave their home addresses in Morocillo. They explained that the hidden compartments in their trucks were used to carry foods and merchandise unavailable in Mexico back to their families. They initially claimed that they had no idea how some heroin residue was found in their cabs. Advised that they had been observed offloading materials to Charlie who had been arrested with dope products, they became uncommunicative.

"You're probably going to go to prison for several years and then deported. Your rigs are being impounded and will be disposed of. For now you are going back to your cell."

Charlie's questioning lasted for a longer period of time and was conducted by two detectives. The first one offered him a cigarette and said he'd get some coffee later if he liked.

The other detective was much sterner.

"Charles Garner, hmm. Charlie, there's no question that we caught you with the goods. Your two compadres are singing like jaybirds -- or should I say jailbirds."

He shuffled some papers.

"That's a lot of stuff you had Charlie. I'd say that's good for at least fifteen years. Your driver's license says you're fifty-nine. Let's see, plus fifteen. Hmm. They have a cemetery over at Roswell for the guys that don't make it out. You have any family Charlie?"

Charlie responded by shaking his head in the negative.

"Well, let's get down to business, Charlie. Where did your stuff all come from? Don't just say south of the border. We already know that from the truckers. I want names and I want locations."

"I don't know locations where it comes from. I'd get a call to meet the trucks at a time and place."

"Don't try bullshitting me Charlie. You know more than that. Who's your contact? Who do you pay or send the money to?"

Charlie looked down at the table top and shook his head.

"Oh for Christ's sake, I'm gonna have to get out of here. Murphy take over. I have to take a leak," he snarled as he pushed out through the door.

After he was gone for a few seconds, the other detective looked at Charlie and smiled.

"You want for another cigarette?"

Charlie accepted the smoke, lit it and seemed to relax in the chair a bit.

"Marty can get pretty tough but he's got a point, Charlie. We want to shut off the supply of dope and we can't do that unless we know who's behind it. There's no point in you taking the fall for the big guys. You help us out and maybe you can get a break."

Charlie became alert with that statement.

"What kind of a break?"

"That's going to depend on how helpful you are. We need you to help us out Charlie. Where did this stuff come from and we need names? Who is your supplier? And you'd have to be willing to testify. It's not just up to us and when it gets to court the judge and the prosecutor, would have to be in agreement. Our recommendation will mean a lot."

"Would I still have to do time?"

"Probably. Marty and I can't make a commitment but it could be as little as two or three years and some probation time after you get out. Again, it all depends on you."

Almost as if on cue, the other detective who had been watching through the two-way mirror and listening to the conversation came through the door. He had a cup of coffee which he offered to Charlie.

"You ready to give us some information?"

Charlie nodded his head.

"Well, let's start out with who do you get your orders from in this operation?"

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

It had been two days since the time of the shipment and Juan had not heard from either Charlie or the two truckers. He had tried several times to call Charlie's cell phone number as well as the Adult Word number. There had been no answer and his voice mail messages had not been returned. Likewise there had been no response to calls he had made to the truckers. He had concluded the only way to find out anything was to get up to Albuquerque and see for himself.

Juan looked down to the end of the block where Adult World was located. He had walked about three blocks from where he had parked his car. The clothes that he was dressed in could easily have caused a casual observer to conclude that he might be a homeless person.

No point in drawing attention to myself in a business suit and driving my BMW. I have no idea what I'm going to find.

As he approached the store entrance he slowed his pace a bit to observe the setting without stopping. What he saw was very upsetting.

They have that yellow vinyl tape stapled to the door along with the sign that says notice is the way the cops mark a crime scene. Not good. I'll keep on going and see what the back looks like from the alley.

The back and basement entrances were similarly designated.

Well, it's a pretty safe bet that Charlie got busted. Probably Pablo and Claudio, too but those two don't know much. Charlie is the problem if they sweat him and he starts blabbing. Gotta do something about that.

Later that day, Juan tried to develop a game plan so that El Serpiente was not implicated in any wat. The newspapers the last two days had no coverage of a major drug bust at Adult World or any other location in the area. That was good but he reasoned that if the cops were keeping a lid on it, it could mean they were digging deeper. It was going be urgent that he do something about Charlie. Bailing him out was not an option as it would identify Juan to the authorities as a player.

Charlie was going to have to be expendable but how could that be accomplished?

Juan remembered how Charlie had arranged to get his friend Matt to provide muscle when they had confronted Cherlyn and her brother. They had picked him up that morning at a spot around the corner from a State Employment Office where homeless men looking for day work would hang out.

It's worth a shot.

At first when Juan got to the area, he did not recognize Matt among the group. He pulled the car up to the curb across the street. As he watched he then spotted him coming up the street from the opposite direction. Juan exited the car and walked across the street.

"Hey, Matt do you remember me?"

"Oh yeah. You was with Charlie," he said as he nodded his head.

"Come on over to the car with me. I need to talk with you about something."

When they got seated in the car, Juan spoke to Matt very directly.

"Are you and Charlie tight?"

"Charlie paid me to do some stuff for him a few times. That's about it," he replied with a shrug.

"Well, I need somebody to do some stuff for me," said Juan as he nodded.

"What kinda stuff?"

"I need somebody silenced...permanently."

Matt looked at him intensely for several seconds and then shook his head in the negative.

"I'd waste somebody that was coming after me but I never worked as a hit man. Too risky."

"Do you know anybody?"

"Maybe," Matt replied and then again paused for several seconds. Come by here tomorrow, same time and I might have something for you. You understand this kinda job is gonna cost you some big bucks."

The next day Juan returned and found Matt waiting for him. He pulled into the curb and motioned for Matt to get into the car out of the intense summer heat.

"Well, if you're still looking for somebody to do a job for you I've got a connection."

"Glad to know that. You have an address or telephone number?"

"Nothing like that. This guy is a real pro and he likes to keep things private. You'll never know his real name and probably never see him face to face."

"Well, how the hell, am I...

"Take it easy, I'm getting' to that. It's a little after one o'clock now. At one-thirty be at the Little Rio Shopping strip over on Fifteenth Street. Park in the next to the last row in front of the Chicken Shack, with your right turn signal on. He'll pull up behind and get in your back seat. His street name is Stomper but don't turn around and try to look at him. The rest is up to you. "

"Okay, Matt. Thanks for your help."

"Nothin' free in this world. I'll take a C note for my trouble."

Juan followed Matt's instructions. He hadn't been at the designated area very long until a car pulled up behind. He heard a car door open and close and out of the corner of his eye he got s glimpse of a person of average height dressed in dark clothing. In a few seconds the individual entered the rear seat of Juan's car. He had a strong odor of tobacco smoke.

"I understand you want some work done," said the man in a raspy voice.

"Yes, as soon as possible."

"The price will be ten thousand. I'll need to know the person's name and where he can be found. I'd need to know something about him and why you want him wasted. "

Juan answered, "OK." He began to talk about Charlie but when he got the point about him being in prison, the hit man interrupted.

"Prison! If that's the case the price just went up to twenty thousand. If that seems like too much, most guys in my line of work wouldn't take the job for any amount. There's the matter of my usual fee and I'll need to pay some people on the inside."

Juan agreed to the price and then on to explain the situation with the drug bust and his concern that Charlie might start singing if offered a plea deal. He avoided talking about where the drugs originated not wanting to reveal anything that would in any way connect back or implicate El Serpiente.

"Okay, I think that I've got the picture. When do you want this done."

"As quickly as possible."

"Okay, I should be able to take care of this within a week or less. Let's see the money."

"I only brought fifteen with me," said Juan, as he pulled a thick envelop out of his coat pocket. We'll have to meet again for me to give you the balance."

"Not going to happen. You've seen me for the first and last time today. Here's a post office box number address to send what you owe me," he said, as he handed Juan a slip of paper. When I get it, I'll go to work."

"How will I know when you've got the job done?"

"Just watch the papers and the TV. What I've got in mind will make a news item. I'm leaving now. Don't look around."

Juan heard the rear door open and close and the man was gone. In a few moments he also drove away. He returned to his house and within the hour took care of the financial arrangements for the hit man.

As soon as he got the money, Stomper made his way to an abandoned warehouse in one of the industrial areas. There were four young men standing around the door which he knew to be the entrance to their gang club room. One of them was wearing a Dallas Cowboys tee shirt and noticed that two of them had the number 5 tattooed on their arms. He walked up to the group.

"Is the boss here this morning?"

Nobody answered but one of them nodded his head towards the door. Stomper had been here before and he knew where to go inside, through a large room whose furnishings consisted of a fifty inch flat screen television set and a collection of chairs and two sofa obtained from the streets on annual cleanup day. He proceeded on through a screen covered opening to where the boss was in a recliner chair with his eyes closed.

"Ready to do some business today?"

"Always ready if the price is right," he replied as he opened his eyes.

"I need somebody to disappear." He's located in the can. Any of your guys in there now?" ,he said and went on to explain the whole situation.

"A fight out in the exercise yard could provide the opportunity to take care of the job. There's five G's in it for you and two more for a couple of your guys inside in cash or dope. What do you think? "

They talked for a few minutes and when Stomper left five minutes later they had a deal.

Juan was filled with anxiety over concern that Charlie might start revealing his relationship with himself and more importantly with El Serpiente. He tried to be patient but three days after he had mailed the money he started to become a news junky. He regularly checked the local newspapers as well as the news on the television. He was not rewarded until the fifth day. The article was prominent in the local news section.

Prison officials today revealed the death of one of their inmates, Charles Garner. The incident occurred during the course of a skirmish among a number of the prisoners in

the exercise yard. The deceased was killed with a handmade knife which was recovered at the scene. No one was listed as the perpetrator and a motive was not identified although officials speculated the incident might have been gang related. Garner had been arrested several days earlier for a major drug violation and was awaiting a preliminary hearing.

Juan was relieved.

Well, that takes care of Charlie. It would be great if I could get rid of Marita but I don't know how to find her. Then there's Cherlyn. At least she's under wraps south of the border and I can figure out what to do with her when I get back there. She really can't hurt me any way.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Julio walked down the hallway to the entrance to the large office and jingled the little bell. El serpiente looked up from behind the large desk where he was sitting and motioned for him to come on in. Julio was always impressed by the huge size of the office. When the boss had obtained the estate he had the contractors combine two large rooms to make his workplace. It was said that he liked to brag that it was larger than the Oval Office in the White House. No one had ever dared to question him on the accuracy of his boast.

As he stood in front of the desk waiting to be acknowledged, Julio scanned the room out of the corners of his eyes. The wall in back of the desk consisted of about fifteen feet of floor to ceiling book shelves. The spines of the books were very colorful and neatly arranged. Julio wondered if the books were ever read and suspected their purpose was to give the impression that el serpiente was a cultured and learned man. To the contrary his close associates knew him to be self-conscious over the fact that he was barely literate. His lack of education had never been an impediment to his skill as a ruthless and highly successful business man. Julio and a few others knew that behind the book shelves were one and a half inch sheets of steel.

The room was furnished with a chaise lounge, two sofas and several chairs in arrangements that would accommodate groups for meetings and discussions. Mostly they were for show and rarely were used for dialogue among the key members of the operation since this operation was not run on a democratic basis. Two medium sized tables and a well-stocked bar completed the furnishings. The room's decorations featured numerous Mexican and Aztec artifacts.

The chaise lounge was positioned to the left of el serpiente's desk and was occupied by a very attractive, scantily-clad young woman. She was light skinned , blond and possessed a

stunning figure. Beyond her a door lead to a suite of rooms which she occupied.

This one must be really talented, thought Julio, she's been here for several months. Some of his playmates only last a few weeks and get replaced. I wonder where he gets them. He seems to favor the Anglos but keeps them away from his wife and three daughters in the far wing of the building.

El serpiente looked up from the papers on his desk.

"Yes."

"Patron, I have some information that I think you should know."

"What is it?"

"There may have been a problem with that large shipment of product that went north to Juan two weeks ago."

"What was the problem, Julio?", he asked, with a look of concern.

"There was a newspaper account that mentions a large drug bust up there about the time that the shipment to Juan would have arrived."

"Haven't you been in touch with him?"

"I have made several attempts but he has not been answering his phone."

El serpiente frowned and rubbed his chin.

"Perhaps he got caught in the drug bust.,"

"It's possible but the news article spoke of another person with an Anglo name who was knifed in prison while being held for the drug arrest," said Julio. Do you think I should go up there to find out what's going on? I know the woman that runs Juan's whore house and she may know something."

"Yes, you should. We don't want for this to get out of hand and connect back to here." Make arrangements immediately."

Julio left the office quickly and with a sigh of relief.

El serpiente does not always react to bad news that well. Sometimes he flies into a rage and takes it out on the person bringing the information.

Two days later, Julio had arrived in Albuquerque. He had used one of the Western Meds panel trucks with New Mexico license plates that they had frequently used to get through the border security. He was familiar enough with the area to find his way to the brothel although he was not aware that it had been raided and closed by the police. When he saw the sign on the door he was momentarily frustrated. But he had Maya's cell number and called.

"Hola."

"Maya, this Julio."

"Hey guy. Haven't heard from you in a long time. What brings you here?"

"The boss sent me up here to check on some things. We haven't been able to get a hold of Juan. I was by your house and saw you were closed up. What's going on?"

"A few weeks back we got busted. One of the girls brought a guy back who happened to be a cop. Just bad luck but there's more."

Maya then proceed to talk about Marita escaping from the police station when they were being booked and Juan's unsuccessful efforts to get her back. She told what she knew about Charlie being the pickup for the product coming north and getting busted in the process.

"Who's Charlie?"

"He managed the dirty book store for Juan, a few blocks from our house. And does some other work for Juan, I think."

"I think Charlie is the guy that got wasted in the slammer a few days ago," said Julio. I don't know how but It wouldn't surprise me if Juan had something to do with that."

"So Charlie is no more. Hadn't heard that. No great loss."

"Well, Maya, that still doesn't help me find out anything about where the hell Juan is. He has a place up here somewhere. Do you know where that is?"

"No. He never seemed to want anybody to know that."

"Well. it looks like a dead end. At some point he's going to be coming back to Morocillo and maybe I'll be able to catch up with him there."

The boss isn't going to be happy about this. He has always seemed to like Juan but I wouldn't want to be in his shoes.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The doctor had left Marshall's room only a few moments ago. It had been a good exchange. He had reviewed the results of the last MRI and reported that there was no evidence of any permanent brain damage from the concussion.

"That's really great news, isn't it doc? Time for me to get out of here."

"Not exactly, Marshall. You are still very weak and you have been flat on your back for quite a while. You need to stay here for at least three more days to get built back up and I'm going to have the physical therapy people start working with you. You need to get your legs back,"

"Well, I quess that I need to pay attention to what you say. I came all the way out here from New York to help my sister with a problem. I'm not going to be much help if I'm disabled. When will I see you again?"

"I'll be back in tomorrow."

Marshall picked up the phone on the second ring.

"Hello."

"This is Edith at the nurses station. Are you up to having a couple of visitors?"

"Yes. I think so. Who are they?"

"There's a Mr. Kosloff and a Mr Caffrey."

"Oh sure. Send them down."

Garth and Sean came into the room and were greeted by Marshall with a welcome smile.

"Great to see you guys. Any good news?"

"Good news for you and great news for me", answered Garth. I heard from Estelle this morning and she's flying out. Should be here this evening."

"That is good news. Anything happening in your search for the bad guys?"

Garth nodded and brought Marshall up to date who was concerned that they had not yet been able to find Cherlyn.

"Garth, is there any chance that Marita might be able to help with that?"

"She'd help if she could." She knows that Juan had a place somewhere in the south of town but was only there once some time ago and can't remember the location. But there's some other things that we can try."

"What might that be, for instance?"

"Our next stop this morning is at the place where Cherlyn worked. We might stumble on to something there. In the meantime you take it easy."

"Okay but before you go, I've remembered something that night be helpful. In the several seconds in that street fight where I got whacked in the head, Cherlyn said something peculiar. She seemed confused by the guy who was trying to get Marita and referred to him as Miguel."

"That does seem strange," said Garth as he frowned at Sean. "Might be important."

Garth and Sean entered the office of the trucking company and approached the receptionist.

"Good morning, gentlemen. How can I help you?"

" We've been trying to look into the disappearance of your coworker, Cherlyn Godwin. Some tome ago I spoke to the manager, Trevor Brown, here on this matter," replied Garth.

"Oh yes. I think I recall.. I hope you are bringing us good news about Cherlyn."

" Well, we have not located her yet but we have made a lot of progress in what has turned out to be a rather complicated situation. Is Mr. Brown available now?"

"Yes and I'm certain that he'll want to talk with you."

After Garth and Sean were seated, the manager leaned back in his chair and looked expectantly at them.

"I'm anxious to hear what you have leaned about Cherlyn.":

"Well, it's an interesting story and has its origin with Cherlyn wanting to be a good person and offering sanctuary to a young woman in difficult straights."

Garth proceeded to describe the circumstances of Cherlyn befriending Marita, a victim of human trafficking. He described the prostitution operation as only a part of criminal enterprises including drugs undoubtedly connected to one of the Mexican cartels. His conclusion dealt with the raid on the brothel and the major drug bust.

At the mention of the drug bust, Trevor Brown sat up straight in his chair behind the desk.

"Oh my God. This is starting to shed some light on our current difficulties."

"What difficulties are you referring to?" inquired Sean with a puzzled look on his face. "The week before last we had a large shipment of vegetable produce from Mexico destined for Denver. There were two tractor trailer loads pulled by two independent truckers that had been working for us in recent weeks. The were arrested a the Roadway Truck Stop south out near the airport. It became a hell of a mess for us. Apparently they had concealed a quantity of drugs in the cabs which were impounded by the authorities. We were contacted about the trailers which fortunately were refrigerated. We had to scramble but were able to find two other truckers to get the products to the customer."

"The following day I had a visit by two agents from the States Attorneys Drug Enforcement Task Force. It became pretty clear early on that they were looking for a connection between our firm and the drug operation. It was a very uncomfortable conversation but in the end I was able to convince them that we only use independent truckers and were not connected with their involvement in the drug business."

"Those guys can be pretty intimidating, "observed Sean. But tell me, how did you get hooked up with those two truckers the first place?"

"Well. his fellow showed up who claimed to have financed their purchase of the rigs and was trying to help them get work. I was not in the office at the time and Cherlyn talked with him. Their paperwork looked good so I started giving them some work. Seemed to be working out. "

"Any chance that you have the name or anything about the guy that connected those two truckers with you?"

"No, I never even saw the man. Maybe our receptionist can remember something. Let's step out

there and see if she recalls him."

"Sharon, do you remember sometime back the man that came in and recommended that we take on Claudio and Pablo, the fellows that were arrested a couple of weeks ago? I was out and he talked with Cherlyn. Remember that?"

"Oh yes. I remember him. He was really good looking," she said with a grin.

"Did he give you a business card or do you remember his name?"

"No card but I might have jotted down his name in this little log book I keep."

"Let's see, that was back in March, I think," as she ruffled through the pages.

"Oh yes! Here it is... Miguel...Miguel Santos."

Garth and Sean exchanged knowing glances.

"I looks like we have one guy with two names," said Garth, remembering what they had learned from Marshall earlier. So we need to be looking for Miguel Santos north of the border."

"Sure sounds that way," replied Sean. Maybe we could look through anything here that you have of Cherlyn's. There might be an address or phone number."

"That's sure okay with me under the circumstances. Her work was all on the computer and we haven't bothered with her desk."

All four proceeded into the small cubicle located adjacent to the reception area. The fixtures consisted of a desk, chair and small filing cabinet. A laptop computer and an in and out box on the desk completed the scene. The wall that the desk faced displayed a calendar, a picture of the New York Skyline and some photos of individuals.

"Mr. Brown, how about you and Sharon take a look through the file cabinet. See if there are files on the two drivers and anything that might make reference to the Santos guy. Garth and I will look through the desk to see if there's any info that might be helpful."

"We'll take a look but when the people from the Drug Task Force were here they took the personnel files for the two drivers and gave me a receipt for them. My recollection is that there wasn't anything in those other than official documents."

Sean opened the center drawer and started going through it. He soon shook his head in the negative.

"Not much here, Garth. A lipstick, a tube of lip balm, Tylenol. two expired credit cards, a deck of cards, a small calculator and the usual rubber bands and paper clips. How are you making out?"

At that point, Garth while looking furtively in the direction of Brown and Sharon as he put something in his coat pocket, said "I may find something. There's an address book here."

"There's nothing here on the 'S' page for Santos," he noted. Oh wait, here on the 'M'

page there's no full name but a number with just the initial."

"We have nothing better. Give it a shot."

Garth entered the number on his phone and held it up to his ear. At first he nodded but then after about a half minute, shook his head in the negative.

"No answer and not even a prompt to leave a message. Maybe your cop buddy can find an address that goes with the number."

"Maybe, but I'm guessing it's one of those throw-a-ways. I'm thinking that we might as well head back to the office and review everything that we've got."

"What's the plan now?" inquired Garth as they drove back to Sean's office.

"I'm going to check with my cop buddy Craig to see if he can get an address connected to the cell phone number we got for Miguel or Juan or who ever the hell he is. I'm not very optimistic that it's going to reveal anything and to tell the truth I think this guy has probably gone back to Mexico. "

"Well, if that's the case, Sean, we'll never be able to find him.'

":Maybe not. I have an idea that maybe Marita can help us. As a matter of fact let's go over there to the safe house now."

"By the way, I saw you slip something in your coat pocket back at the trucking comoany. What was that all about?"

"I found her passport. If it should turnout that she's in Mexico, we may need that at some point. I was concerned that Cherlyn's boss might not want us take it so I thought best to slip it out."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

When they got to the area where the safe house was located, Sean drove to the rear of the building. They were greeted at the door by Juanita.

"My, I didn't expect to see you two gentlemen so soon again. What brings you back?"

"We are still on the search of the woman that befriended Marita and was abducted by the guy that tricked Marita into being a prostitute. We think there's a good possibility that he's back in Mexico. Marita may be able to help us in our search."

"I don't know what you have in mind but I'm pretty certain that she has no interest in going back there."

"Oh no, that's not what I have in mind. I believe that the last time we were here I noticed a computer in your living room. Correct?"

"Oh yes."

"Good. I'd like to use it for a few minutes and is Marita available?"

Garth sat at the computer and in a few minutes Marita came into the room. He and Sean later remarked how nice she looked dressed in ordinary-casual clothes and with her hair styled. She seemed very much relaxed as contrasted to her demeanor at the time of their earlier visit.

"Do you like living here. Marita?" inquired Garth.

"Yes, indeed I do." I'm happier here than any where I been for a long time."

"That's great to hear. Now I'd like you to pull up that chair so you can sit beside me and look at the computer."

"But I don't know anything about computers."

" That won't be a problem. I just want you to look at some things with me."

Garth turned on the computer and in a few seconds fond the icon for Google Earth. His first step was to center the screen over Mexico. He enlarged the screen and soon it was centered over the city of Durango. He moved the image to the north quite a distance and centered it over a smaller town.

"I believe that you came from a town called Morocillo."

Garth pointed to the screen.

"That's what it would look like if you were flying over it in an airplane and looking down."

"That's amazing!", a wide-eyed Marita exclaimed.

"Oh, I think that's the Church," she said as Garth enlarged the screen.

"Can you point to me where Juan lived?"

"He did not live in our town. It was out in the country, that way." she said pointing to the top of the computer screen.

"Was it very far?"

:"No, it only took us a few minutes and then we turned off the highway to the right and drove up a hill on a small road."

"Was it a paved road?"

"Yes it was."

Garth used the mouse to move up the road from the town. It was clear that the road followed along the base of a wooded area. Before long the image showed a side road to the left.

"Does that look familiar, Marita?"

"I don't know. I can't say."

Garth noticed that the side road curved slightly to the left suggesting that it was increasing in elevation. It ended in a cleared area with a building. He enlarged the image.

"Do you recognize this?"

"Maybe but I can't say for sure."

"Well, let's take a street view look" he said as he moved the stylus from right to left.

A large residential type building appeared on the computer screen.

"Of my heavens! That's it! That's where he lives...where he took me. The little building to the right where the caretaker stayed. I can't believe this, it's like magic!":

Garth smiled to himself. Caretaker, huh? I'd guess his tools include an AK47 instead of a shovel or rake.

"Well, Sean, I guess we've got a location. I'm going to take a picture of the building and we should look around down on the main road before we turn this off and get the lay of the land."

"What's our next step?"

"The next thing we are going to do is take these ladies out to dinner. Then we need to get out to the airport and pick up Estelle. Her flight is due to arrive about 9:30. Tomorrow we will try to make plans to go south and see if we can find Cherlyn."

The next morning Garth got awake, turned his head to the right on the pillow and was rewarded by the sight of Estelle's face and the tousled blond hair. For several moments he laid very still and simply enjoyed the view. Then she stretched, opened her eyes and greeted Garth with a welcoming smile.

"Hi big guy."

"Good morning sweetheart. I certainly enjoyed our reunion."

"As did I. It never seems to get routine. We have something very special," she said as she reached out and pulled him to her. "I think an encore would be an excellent way to start the day."

Sometime later as they were exiting the shower, Estelle inquired, "What's the agenda for this morning?"

"After breakfast, I thought that we'd go to the hospital and see how Marshall is getting along. The next stop after that will be to get over to Sean's office and start figuring out a game plan to rescue Cherlyn."

In was late morning when Garth and Estelle walked into Sean's office.

"Did you two have a nice visit with Marshall?"

"Yes, we did and he had some possible good news. The other tests have been good and he's scheduled for a MRI tomorrow morning. It he gets good results from that he'll probably be discharged the next day."

"That sounds really good, Garth. I guess he was happy to see you, Estelle."

"Yes, that was pretty evident. We've worked together for several years and we shared a number of personal issues. Most of those have been the struggles he's had trying to be a big brother and surrogate Mom and Dad for Cherlyn."

"I guess that now the next step is to try and get Cherlyn out of this jam." said Garth. Sean, let's get on the computer and take another look at that area where we think she might be."

The three pulled up chairs in front of the computer, Sean turned it on and brought up Google Earth. It took only a few seconds to get the aerial image of the area north of Morocilla in Mexico including the residence where they guessed Cherlyn was being held.

"One thing is for sure we're not going to be able to walk up and knock on the door" , observed Garth as he studied the image. "Move back down along the main road and see what the general area looks like."

As they scanned the area along the road to the north, Estelle spoke up.

"Look! Isn't that some kind of structure set back along the left side of the road?"

"Yes, I think you're right," agreed Sean. I'm going to enlarge the area."

"That sure is a building," said Garth, nodding his head. Go ahead and bring down the street level view."

They studied the image for nearly a minute without talking. It was a badly deteriorated structure. At ground level was a center door opening with two windows on either side. There was a second story with three equally spaced windows . The fact that it was a wood building made it unusual for this area.

"Garth, it certainly looks abandoned and there appears to be room to pull a vehicle around on the right side and possibly park in back out of sight" , said Sean as he looked closely at the image.

"Yes, I would agree. How far is this from the road going up to our destination?"

"Looks like it would be about a quarter of a mile. So a basic game plan would be to leave our vehicle there and make our way up through the wooded area."

"Works for me."

Estelle spoke up. "It might be a good idea for me to go along. Cherlyn doesn't know you two and might feel more comfortable if there was a female in the recue party."

The two men exchanged glances and then Garth answered.

"Estelle, it's great that you want to help but these guys play for keeps. They've already killed one person and wouldn't hesitate to waste others. There's no telling what we're going to get into and frankly I'd be distracted in worrying about you."

"He's right," agreed Sean.

"There is something you can do though. We're going down and coming back as tourists. It's anybody's guess what kind of a situation we'll find Cherlyn in. We'll go back to her house after we finish here and you can go in and find some suitable clothing along with some cosmetics and, I guess, a purse... you know, whatever a woman would have. We'll take that along."

"I can do that, Garth."

"Good. Sean, you and I have some plans of our own to put together. Bright and early tomorrow we need to be on our way south."

Other parties were making plans, as well.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Julio was in no hurry to talk with the boss, El Serpiente. He walked in a very casual, almost slow, manner as he headed to the office.

I'm afraid he going to be in a lousy mood after he hears the news that I've got for him. I hope he doesn't take it out on me. That's happened to other people.

He reached the open doorway to the office and rang the little bell. After several seconds the boss looked up from his desk and to Julio's surprise held up his flat hand in a manner indicating Julio should wait. He bowed his head back down on the desk. For several minutes he did not move.

I wonder if he's sick?

He continued to watch and suddenly the boss raised his head from the desk with his eyes closed and convulsed. He leaned back in his chair and opened his eyes, looking very relaxed. It was not until a few moments later when his female companion got up to her feet beside him and, giving him an affectionate pat on the head disappeared into her suite to the left that Julio understood what was going on.

Well that's got to be better than a coffee break. I hope that got him in a good mood.

The boss smiled at Julio and motioned for him to enter.

Julio approached the desk and nodded to the boss.

"I hope you are bringing me good news. It is always welcome."

"Nothing would please me more than to be a messenger carrying good news," said Julio, as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. I'm sorry to say that is not the case."

El Serpiente's countenance changed immediately to a look of annoyance.

"Were you not able to find Juan?"

"No and there's worse news."

"Tell me. I don't like to wait."

Julio could see that the boss's look was changing even more to that of anger and rage.

"The shipment of product was seized by the police and the two drivers along with the Anglo man who was to receive the goods for Juan were all arrested. That man was eliminated in a prison fight and my guess is that Juan may have set that up. But I was unable to find Juan anywhere. I talked to the woman that managed the whore house that he had up there. She had not heard from Juan and was no help. He may have come back across the border."

El Serpiente rubbed his chin and looked thoughtful as he processed the information. He then spoke out loud but almost as if he was talking to himself.

"Losing that shipment was bad but there's always more where that came from. But how did they find out about Juan's operation? He must have done something stupid. That's the end of it. Can they track it back here? And to me?"

He paused for a few moments and then looked up directly at Julio.

"Juan was with me for many years and I thought of him almost like a son. But he has damaged the business very badly. In doing so he has disrespected me. If I do not deal with this quickly and without pity others may think that I have become weak. People who are seen as faint-hearted do not last long in this business. I am also concerned that this matter may find its way back to the federales and I might find myself behind bars. Juan needs to be silenced permanently."

"Immediate action is required, Julio."

"Si, El Serpiente."

"It is likely that you will find him at my house by Morocillo. You should take two of your men and pay him a visit tomorrow after mid day. He has a guard who should also be eliminated. The housekeeper is a relative and although she hates me, bring her back. My wife needs a companion. Do you understand what I want done?

"Si, at once."

"Good, I do not want another disappointment."

Garth and Sean had made very good time on the morning drive. Sean's SUV got good mileage and was equipped with four wheel drive which they agreed might be essential if the terrain by the abandoned house was rough. They were dressed in casual clothing although their backpacks contained outdoor clothing and hiking shoes. A third backpack contained clothing and other items that Estelle had assembled for Cherlyn. If asked about the purpose of their trip at the border their cover story was to present themselves as tourists with an interest in colonial era architecture, especially churches. A small compartment hidden in the front passenger side seat contained two 9 mm hand guns.

It was early afternoon by the time they reacted the town of Morocillo and the vicinity of their destination. They found the abandoned house without trouble. Getting the vehicle into the back they encountered some difficulty in hiding it in that a real wall had fallen and they had to move some boards. Having hidden the vehicle, the two men changed into what Sean called their working clothes and hiking boots. The final task was to retrieve the firearms from the hiding place.

"Garth, it's mainly scrub brush down here which doesn't provide very good cover. On up the hillside it looks like there are more trees. Let's go straight up there before we head to the right in the direction of the house."

"Good idea. Let's go."

The terrain was steep and quite rocky. Some of the brush that they had to try and skirt was covered with thorns. It was not a pleasant climb and both were relieved when they reached the tree line. Moving now in the direction of the house they tried to keep behind the larger trees.

They finally reached the edge of the clearing where it was located.

"Well, that's our destination straight ahead." , said Sean as they crouched behind some bushes. Got any ideas how we should proceed from here?"

"Offhand, I'd say we ought to work our way around to the right and see if there's a way in from the back." If there's anybody in that guard shack or whatever over where the drive comes up we'd be dead in their sight. Let's take a break to catch our breath and see if there's any activity."

Julio drove carefully down the street in Morocillo.

"You're certainly taking it easy in this little town. I guess that you're in no hurry to get where we're going.," said the man to his right in the passenger seat. Are you concerned about our job ahead?"

"No. That's not the point. The boss wants to make sure that this thing is carried out without any turmoil. The last thing that we'd want would be a little fender bender or to hit a stray dog or mule for that matter. Under the best situation we'll be in and out of here without anybody ever knowing it."

"Besides," he added, "we're almost there, and you need to check your hardware."

As the two muscle guys looked to their firearms, Julio exited the town and took the road to the north.

I've only been here two times and the last was over a year ago. I should be able to find it. Ah, there's the drive on the right.

"Okay guys, get ready. I'm going to pull up along side of the guard shack. We aren't expected so be ready for anything."

Julio pulled the vehicle in front of the guard shack and brought it to a stop. His two helpers opened the wide side door. The guard immediately came out carrying an automatic weapon. He had a frown on his face.

"Who are you and what do you want here?"

"We are from El Serpiente and he sent us here to deal with traitors."

Cherlyn had some mid day food about an hour and a half earlier.

I'm sure getting sick of this Mexican crap, What I'd give for a cheeseburger and some fries. It's bad enough that this food is not fit to eat and then to have to sit on the edge of this bed naked as a jay bird and eat with my other had cuffed to the headboard. Certainly not fine dining.

She was lying on her side and trying to get relaxed and maybe fall asleep. She heard the door open and as she was trying to turn over her free hand was grabbed. She was jerked on over onto her back and before she could react her previously free hand was now also cuffed to the headboard. Juan was looking down at her with an leering expression of one in control.

"What's this all about?"

"I just had this feeling that I've been deprived far too long."

"Deprived?" Deprived of what?"

"Don't act cute with me, sweetheart. You know what I'm talking about. When I would come up to check on my businesses I'd usually spend some time with Marita and let her do me. But since you're responsible for her not being available to me, it only seems right that you'd take her place. Don't you think?"

"No, I don't think you lousy pimp. You're not going to use me like a whore."

Juan laughed.

"You'd better check your situation, sweetheart. You're not going to have a lot to say about it. You're pretty well secured. You might be able to squirm around a bit but it won't take me very long to get your legs spread and you'll be ready for me. It's been quite a while since I've had any and I should be able to go at least twice. Lucky you!"

"You bastard!"

Juan started to unbutton his shirt. Just as he was starting to take it off he was interrupted by loud sounds.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

"Sounds like gunfire sweetheart. Guess I'd better check it out. Don't run off, I'll be right back."

Sean and Garth had been studying the house and guard shack for several minutes.

"Well, Sean, there doesn't seem to be any activity. I guess it's as good a time as any to make our move."

"I guess you're right."

But then he paused.

"Wait, I think I hear something. Is that a car?"

They both looked in the direction of the sound and saw a large-dark van pull into the clearing from the access drive. It stopped for a few seconds and then proceeded over to the guard shack and stopped. Sean and Garth were situated where they could see the guard come out of the shack, carrying an automatic weapon and take a few steps up to the side of the van. He appeared to be saying something. Suddenly three shots rang out and the guard fell to the ground.

Three armed men immediately got out of the van, two of which picked up the fallen man and quickly tossed the body into the rear of the vehicle. All three then started briskly walking in the direction of the front of the house. When they got to about fifteen feet of the house, the door flew upon and a man stepped quickly out. What then happened was a standoff. The man from the house said something which Sean and Garth were unable to understand and pulled a handgun out of his side pocket. The three men he was facing were much faster and he went down in a hail of bullets.

The three men approached the fallen individual and the one knelt down and touched his neck feeling for a pulse, After a few seconds he rose and looking at the other two shook his head. There was a brief inaudible conversation and the one pointed to the house in the direction to the left after which he jogged back to the van.

By the time the van was started and driven back to where the body was lying, the other two men came out of the house ushering with them an older woman. She appeared to be arguing with them but with a man on each arm hurrying her along, any protests were futile. In just a few minutes, the second body, the captive woman and the three thugs were in the van which quickly departed from the area and disappeared down the access road.

"Holy shit!" , exclaimed Garth. I'm glad we waited. I sure wouldn't have wanted to get caught in the middle of that. What do you suppose that was all about?"

"Hard to say." Not much doubt those were cartel people and they play for keeps. A tough bunch."

"They left the front door open. Let's get in there and see if we can find Cherlyn."

The front door accessed a living room and they went through it and to the right into a smaller suite. There was a opening to the left and they entered a bed room. They were more than startled to see a very attractive-blond woman with her hands cuffed to the head board of the bed. She stared at them with a resigned look on her face.

"Oh for God's sake. Now what?"

The two men were momentarily at a loss for words.

"If you're Cherlyn, the Indians just left and we're the Cavalry." Garth finally said as he reached down to pull the blanket up to cover her body.

She did not respond to his comment and Garth continued.

"Were a couple of retired cops that your brother's company hired to find out why it was taking him so long to help you out here. That's the Readers Digest version and the important thing now is to get you the hell out of here and back north of the border."

As Garth was speaking, Sean was in the process of undoing the plastic cuffs with a pair of cutters.

"Cover yourself with that blanket. We have some clothes for you in the car and you can change when we get there."

"Garth, I think that when we get outside we'd better go back through the woods. We don't know if those guys might come back."

It was about a half hour later after they had returned to the car, changed clothes and were headed away that Cherlyn burst into tears and sobbed for several minutes. Finally she composed herself.

"Thank God you found me. What an ordeal. I'll be ever grateful to the two of you."

Several hours later they passed through the border into the United States looking all the world like three happy tourists.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

"What time is your flight out, Garth?"

"We got the red eye leaving at 10:30. We have a layover somewhere along the line and never get to Kennedy until about 7:15 in the morning."

"You should be ready for a big breakfast by then."

"Probably so. That's not to say there isn't a big selection on the menu and everything I've had was really good. How about you Cherlyn? You getting enough to eat?"

"Absolutely! This ribeye steak and potatoes au gratin are great. I got so sick of Mexican food when I was trapped down there I don't care to try any in the future."

"l can make an exception for these margaritas, though" , she added with a grin.

"In spite of the food thing though, you're determined to stay out here then?" questioned Marshall.

"Oh yes. I've got a good job and Marita is going to be staying with me on pretty much of a permanent basis. Things seem to be working out for her. The attorneys are confident that she will qualify for a U visa. She's very bright and we've been talking about a GED and maybe down the line going to the Community College. She thinks that long term she's like to be able to help other women that were trafficking victims. Yes, we'll be able to get along and Sean has agreed to look in on us from time to time."

"That's right." agreed Sean. Of course, it won't be as pleasing to these tired old eyes as the first time I looked in on you."

That remark brought chuckles from the dinner party except for Cherlyn who smiled as she blushed.

"Garth tells me that your stock has risen to new heights with the local law enforcement officials." , offered Estelle.

"That's right. Actually I'm getting attaboys from around here and south of the border as well. The local boys passed on the information about our little caper to the drug enforcement people and then on to the Mexican authorities. They hotfooted it over to where Juan got wasted and picked up a computer and some other goodies. I don't know all the details but I understand that they may be on the merge of busting up one of the major cartels."

"Garth, you and I worked pretty good together on this. It was kind of like the old days. Keep in mind what I told you about those jobs I get from the feds now and then. Nice change of pace from working on those violins all the time and a chance to see some new country."

"I hope you're not going to get him in any trouble." said Estelle.

"He's never needed any help getting into trouble. You can do that crossing the street."

"Anyway you folks need to get on the way to the airport, Pass that pitcher of margaritas around."

"Salud"

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