A Quiet Street in El Paso

by Jim Daddio

  “In the shower. Come on.”

  ~ * ~

  An hour later Sue lay in Mat’s arms. He leaned over and took a drag from his cigarette.

  “I have to say I’m glad we hooked up. We kind of click together.”

  “I bet you say that to all the dancers who fuck you.”

  “Oh yeah, I’ve had hundreds.”

  Sue slid her head up against his chest. “I have to admit I was kind of drawn to you the first few times I saw you in the club. I liked your style. Long hair, ponytail and your I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude.”

  “And I liked your style, too.”

  “You mean my tits and ass.”

  “You know, this would be a good time to tell me about those tits and ass. You know, who is little Sue?”

  “You really want to hear about me?”

  “Sure. I’m interested to know how you ended up dancing at The Pink Lady. There’s something about exotic dancers and their stories that get to me. It seems you all got a story to tell.”

  “Heard a lot of them, hey Mat?”

  “A few. Go on. Tell me about yourself.”

  “Well, I’m from a little town outside Columbia, South Carolina. In high school, I was Miss Everything. You know, head cheerleader, homecoming queen, May queen. Shit, I was hot. Next thing I know I’m out school and I got nothing. A few of my girlfriends had something I didn’t have…school smarts. They left for college. Next thing I knew, the food processing plant closes, and my dad is out of work and Mom goes to work in the local diner. Things got really bad.

  “I go from Miss Everything to Miss Nothing. All I got is a hot body and a bunch of rednecks driving around in pick-up trucks dangling their dicks. I turn eighteen and head to Atlanta. I got no job and no money. So, I see an ad for nude dancers. I give it a try. I meet another dancer who tells me the big money is in Dallas. So off we go. That didn’t work out for me. Next thing I knew I was here in El Paso. I like it. I do very good at the club.”

  “Ever been back home?”

  “Na. I heard my dad got so fucked up he left town. My mom, she moved in with her sister and well, she don’t care much about me.”

  “Like I said. I love the stories you all have.”

  “And you, hotshot?”

  Married twice. Divorced twice and that’s all there is.”

  Sue sat up. “Let’s fuck again.”

  Mat smiled. “Works for me.”

  ~ * ~

  Mat put on his black jeans, sat and pulled hard on his frog skin boots. He threw on a black Tee-shirt and wrapped his shoulder holster holding his Glock. He walked over to the closet and grabbed a black sport coat. Susan called out, “The man in black. It’s a hundred fucking degrees out and you’re wearing all black.”

  Mat shrugged, leaned over and kissed her on the lips.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Pass out for a while…is that all right?”

  “Stay as long as you want.”

  “Cool. I’ll clean up before I leave.”

  Mat smiled and turned toward the door. Susan called out, “Hey, hotshot. Get a maid. Christ, there are a million of them in El Paso, you know.”

  Mat waved and found his way out the front door. He stopped for a second and felt the heat from the white sun looming lonely in the bright blue sky. He had lived in El Paso for thirty years and the heat had never bothered him. But lately the temperature had reached over one hundred degrees for days on end.

  Mat was six feet-one, with long sandy colored hair that flowed just above his shoulder. He wore it in a ponytail most of the time. His body was lean and solid. He had a stern look about him and a rugged tough-guy style. He had light brown eyes and kept his blond mustache neatly trimmed.

  He had joined the El Paso County Police Department a few days after he was released from the Marines. He quickly gained a reputation for being a tough, fearless police officer. He received several commendations and was promoted to detective and assigned to the team that worked with the Border Patrol arresting illegal immigrants who streamed across the border from Juarez in record numbers.

  Within a few years, he was promoted again; this time to Commander of the El Paso Police Division, Illegal Immigration Control. That lasted a year. Although he kept his title, he was assigned to a new division that was formed when members of Homeland Security joined the force. His job was tracking businesses who hired illegals. It was a shit job and he knew it. But he also knew he was lucky he still was on the force.

  He had recently turned thirty-five and after ten years on the force and five years doing his assigned duty, he was burnt out. With two divorces behind him and a young daughter living somewhere in Houston, he found himself drinking too much and out of control. Although he continued to do his job well, he was considered a loner, and by some, a renegade who lacked discipline and who had trouble with authority. His immediate supervisor, Captain Carl Ramirez, stood behind him because of his arrest record and his accomplishments. But he was finding it harder to support Mat lately. He had talked to him about his behavior and Mat had promised to settle down. The problem was that neither man was convinced he could. Mat loved his tequila and women.

  Four

  Hector Morales lived in Juarez, Mexico five miles from the Border Patrol station. He was thirty-seven, with dark black hair and a thick solid mustache. He was married with a ten-year-old son and eight-year-old daughter and a baby on the way. They lived in a small but comfortable house. He worked for a nursery and landscaping company in El Paso and had a work visa. He knew he could move to El Paso but loved his country and had no desire to leave.

  Monday through Saturday Hector would drive his red pick-up truck through the border station at the same time: seven o’clock on the dot. All the guards knew Hector and he would pass through the gate with a wave and a smile. He would return every day around six and wait in the long line of tourists and fellow Mexican workers. He would inch his car forward, approach the station, and pass through without question.

  Hector loved his job, his family and his life. He worked hard and was paid a decent wage. But he wasn’t making enough to support his family in the manner he wanted to. He was no different than thousands of Mexican men who worked across the border.

  Things had changed for Hector two years earlier. He began making the extra money he needed. Every Tuesday he smuggled in chemicals to make meth. But then that changed and now he was bringing in black tar heroin, known on the street as heroin smack or the big H. He was paid three hundred dollars a week, the extra money he needed to support his family in a better way.

  He knew he would never be stopped or have his car searched by the guards. He also knew the dogs who were trained to sniff for drugs would not have enough time to find his illegal drugs and chemicals.

  Still, every Tuesday Hector would get nervous. He could feel the acid drip in his stomach and his heart beat a little faster as he approached the station. Several times when he approached the gates there would be a back-up of cars leaving Juarez. He would turn off onto a side street and wait until there was an opening. He would then drive back onto the main road and go through the gate. He had never been stopped.

  He followed the same routine every Tuesday. He would drive to a little café with several outside tables. He would order a coffee, a breakfast burrito and sit at the same table. He would place a black duffel bag down by his feet. Within a few minutes a man he had never met or talked to, would walk up and pick up the bag. That’s all there was to it. And for this he was paid three hundred dollars a week. He would finish his breakfast and drive to work. Life was good for Hector Morales. He hoped it would never change.

  Five

  Fred Cummings still couldn’t believe how good his life was. He sat quietly on his open patio sipping a hot cup of coffee. Every morning he would sit there shaking his head and thinking how lucky he was. He didn’t even mind the heat from the morning sun. Nothing could bother him. He considered himself the happiest man in the world.

  F
red was forty. He was a few inches short of six feet tall with short brown hair and brown eyes. He wore thick black glasses. He was a little overweight for his height but not considered heavy. Still, he was always trying to lose a few pounds.

  It had been a wild ride for Fred over the past few years. It wasn’t too long ago he was living with his parents in Houston working in the finance department of a trucking company. When a position came available for a director of finance for Strategic Electric, an electrical contractor in El Paso that specialized in acquiring government contracts to do major electrical work, Fred applied for the job. The company had received most of their revenue from winning projects for city, county and state. Fred interviewed, won the position and moved to El Paso.

  In high school and college Fred was considered a nerd. He received a master’s degree in finance from the University of Houston and had worked for several companies after graduation. He seldom dated and only had a few friends. This never bothered him. He enjoyed working on his computer and writing and developing financial software programs.

  A few years earlier, he thought he had found the right company. He worked for them for three years and had received several promotions. But without warning the company was sold and the new company released most of their employees. He had trouble finding a job and had to move back in with his parents. Now, that was all behind him.

  Fred felt the soft hands of his wife slide around his neck. She kissed his check and whispered, “Good morning.”

  He smiled, turned slightly and looked up at his wife. “And one to you, too.”

  “Hot again. I heard we’re breaking all kinds of records.”

  Fred replied, “It’s like this all over the southwest and even in the east. It’s been over one hundred degrees every day.”

  Janice Cummings moved around and sat facing Fred. She sipped on a glass of cold orange juice. “I know I’ve said it a few hundred times, but it was a wonderful weekend. A lovely room right on the Gulf with a wonderful balcony and view. We have to do that more often.”

  Fred raised his cup. “I’ll drink to that. There is nothing like a wild weekend to shake things up.”

  Janice laughed out loud. “And you were wild all right. Drinking, dancing, singing…and well, in the bedroom.” She giggled and said, “Why, Mister Cummings, I never knew you had it in you.”

  He shook his head and shouted, “Neither did I.”

  They both laughed out loud.

  Fred studied his wife as she sat across from him. He still couldn’t believe he was married to such a warm and lovely lady. They had been married for a little over two years and they couldn’t have been happier. Janice was thirty-six, with soft brown hair and bright green eyes. She was five-three and had a thin, firm figure. She was quiet, reserved but had a warm smile and pleasant style.

  He continued to study her as she sipped her orange juice. He couldn’t help but think how it had all happened. He had moved to El Paso, found a small apartment and settled into his new position. The job turned out to be unbelievable. He was a perfect fit and through his knowledge of the workings of the federal government, the company had been awarded several large contracts to upgrade the electrical systems at Fort Bliss, an Army base located outside of El Paso, and White Sands Missile Range in New Mexico. Because of his efforts, he was promoted to vice president of finance, responsible for approving the final price quotes on proposals presented to the government. He worked with the sales team on the pricing, margin and the final proposal. Because of his recommendations on format, design and competitive pricing, the company had recorded record revenues and profits. He received a bonus and was quickly recognized for his knowledge and creative thinking.

  Two years earlier, two days before Mothers’ Day, he walked into a small flower shop in a strip mall to order flowers to be sent to his mother. He ordered them from a very helpful and lovely sales lady. A few days later he found out she was the owner. He was impressed with her style and the way she conducted herself. He also noticed she didn’t wear a wedding ring. He found the nerve to return and ask her to dinner. She accepted, and it wasn’t long before they were dating, engaged and married. Soon after they found a beautiful two-story home on a quiet street in El Paso.

  Janice stood and walked toward the door. “Well, I’m off. How about we have Mexican for dinner tonight?”

  “That sounds good. But no tequila. I think I still have some in me from the weekend.”

  Their weekdays were virtually the same every day. Fred would awake, shower, grab a cup of coffee and sit on the patio. Janice would usually be up and had taken a run through a park close to their home. She would dress and be ready to go to her flower shop when Fred awoke. She would join him on the patio, drink a glass of orange juice, chat for a few minutes and then leave for work before Fred. He would then put on a shirt and tie and work for an hour in his home office before leaving. It was a routine that worked for them and Fred kept telling himself he was the luckiest man alive to be living at 11664 El Camino Real; a quiet street in El Paso.

  Six

  Captain Ramirez shifted through a maze of papers covering his desk. He looked up at Mat. “You look like you fell off the back of a vegetable truck…and smell like one, too.”

  Mat didn’t reply. He waved his hand in the air and rubbed the back of his neck. The captain continued, “You know, Mat, the truth is you’ve been a pain in the ass ever since the Department of Homeland Security took over the immigration responsibilities down here.”

  “Not again. Let’s not do this again.”

  “Damn it, Mat. I’m getting beat up because of your fucking attitude and spirit of non-cooperation. I’m tired of covering for you. Deal with it and do your job.”

  “They don’t know shit about how to deal with the immigrants and—”

  The captain interrupted, “I know…I know, okay. But we must do this. We have no choice.”

  Mat raised his voice. “But they won’t even listen. We’ve been doing this since the beginning of time and these fuckers come down here and read some bullshit procedures from some bullshit manual. And…and…all this garbage about compliance and—”

  He slumped down in his chair. There were a few minutes of silence. Ramirez knew Mat was right, but he also knew they had to follow the rules and regulations sent down from the department.

  The captain smiled. “What do you think of the wall?”

  “Right. The fuc…never mind. Yeah, like that’s going to happen.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. But for now…did you remember you have a new partner joining you today?”

  “Jesus…I forgot.”

  “I thought that’s why you came in this morning.”

  “I came in because I have a lead on a company that has several, maybe as many as a couple dozen, illegal aliens working in the shop.”

  Ramirez showed a small amount of enthusiasm. He rose from his chair. “This is good. I mean really, really good. When your partner comes in, you can give her a briefing and get a team together and—”

  Mat raised his hand. “Whoa…hold on. Did you say her? Like in female?”

  The captain smiled. “Right. Betty Vasquez. She is a member of the ICE team and—”

  “The what team?”

  “ICE. Immigration and Customs Enforcement.”

  “Oh, Jesus.”

  “She’s with the ERO Department.”

  “Oh, God…what the hell is that, now?”

  “Enforcement and Removal…something. Hell, I don’t know. Just work with her.”

  “Don’t do this to me, Captain,” Mat begged. “It’s not fair. It will never work out.”

  “Mat, listen to me. The heat is on. Get it. You fuck this up and you’ll be a crossing guard at Hamilton Elementary. This partnership has come down from the top. How many times do I have to tell you you’re on everybody’s radar? All the way to D.C.”

  Mat closed his eyes and shook his head. He didn’t respond. He thought back to his last partner. A hard ass, fresh out of s
ome secret department, who had absolutely no idea what to do or how to work the illegal immigrant problem.

  Ramirez walked around from behind his desk. “She’s coming down the hallway. And listen, please don’t do what you did to…ah…whatever the last agent’s name was.”

  Mat laughed. “You have to admit it was funny. That was the day I pushed him out of the car in Mexico. He was such a jerk. What was it…three, four days before he found his way back? Him and his know-it-all attitude. The guy didn’t know shit.”

  “Cool it. She’s here.”

  The captain opened the door and Betty Vazquez walked into the room. Mat turned and gave her a long look. She was tall, about five seven, with a trim, thin figure. She had long black hair and dark brown eyes. She wore a dark blue suit, white blouse and small black heels. He watched as she extended her hand and smiled, “Captain, my name is Betty Vasquez and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Thank you. We were expecting you. And it’s nice to meet you too.”

  Ramirez turned to Mat as he slid up from his chair. “And this is Mat Watkins.”

  Betty released her hand and extended it toward Mat. Mat hesitated for a second then reached out and grabbed her hand. She said, “Yes, my new partner. Pleasure.”

  Mat shook her hand, feeling her soft touch. He fumbled for words. “Right. Ah, well, welcome.”

  Betty slid her hand out of his grasp and said, “Thanks. I must say I’ve heard many things about you, Mat. And I am looking forward to working with you. I understand you can teach me a lot.”

  He was caught off guard with her comments. It wasn’t anything like he expected. He didn’t reply. There were a few minutes of awkward silence as the two gave each other the once over.

  Ramirez broke the silence. “Well, it looks like you’ve come aboard at the right time. Mat has a lead on a company with several illegal workers.”

  Betty smiled broadly. “How cool is this. I’m ready to jump right in.”