Raul had struggled in school and he struggled in relationships with the fairer sex. He was also bored with manual labor and wanted something different. He spoke with his mother about her newest vocation. She was attending nursing school at the Polytechnic Institute, along with two of Raul’s sisters. She convinced her son it would be a wise move for him to join them. He took her up on the offer. He informed his father he would be quitting the air-conditioning business and enrolled in nursing school.
Raul enjoyed the work and he even enjoyed spending extra time with his mother and sisters. He did not make many friends while in nursing school, electing instead to eat lunch and spend most of his break times with his family.
The majority of his fellow nursing students found him to be pleasant, hardworking, and relatively quiet. They tended to like him, but were not close to him.
There was one exception. Andrea Flores, one of his fellow students at the institute, befriended Raul in September 1992. She, too, hoped to become a nurse.
Andrea described Raul Villarreal as calm and easygoing; she noticed he made good grades. She claimed he got along well with everyone at Polytechnic Institute.
The nursing program lasted only four months. Raul had no problem with the curriculum, showed up for classes, and was an eager participant in all variations of training. He passed the program with flying colors.
Raul, along with his two sisters, his mother, and Andrea all received their nursing certificates on January 15, 1993. It was one of the proudest days in his young life.
Unfortunately, landing a job was a completely different story for Raul. He went through all of the usual channels to seek out a nursing job, but he always came up empty-handed. No one would hire him. His sisters were hired. His mom got hired. Andrea was hired, but no one would hire Raul Villarreal.
Raul’s state of unemployment led to a deeper state of depression. He was finished with school, jobless, and had no girlfriend. He felt unwanted and unneeded. He went from helping his family buy food and clothes to having to wear worn-out, out-of-style clothes.
Raul sought out new friends to help break up his monotony. The main person he hung out with was a young boy, roughly Raul’s same age, named Efrain Perez Jr. According to Eddie, Efrain and Raul lived on the same street when they were younger and had known each other for nearly five years. He noted that despite the fact the Perez family had moved away from the neighborhood, back in 1989, Efrain and Raul still managed to hang out together. Eddie described Efrain as a guy who “liked to be on the streets.”
Raul’s mother did not like Efrain. She claimed he only came over to their house twice since 1989. Each time, she did not want her son to have anything to do with him. Whenever Efrain showed up in her front yard, Louisa would yell at her son to come inside the house and reiterated that she did not want him playing with Efrain.
Louisa and Raul would run into Efrain when they went out grocery shopping as well. Every time she saw Efrain, she later warned her son he “was not doing very well,” and insisted that Raul better be careful because Efrain was “always getting into trouble.”
Louisa said of Efrain Perez, “He was on a bad path.” She heard he was mainly interested in making a name for himself out on the streets. “I had heard about his fame,” Louisa warily recalled.
There were still many people looking out for Raul Villarreal’s best interests. One was family friend Benitas Arias. She knew Raul since he was thirteen years old and described him as “a peaceful person.” The older woman trusted Raul well enough that she would leave him alone with her own daughter who was a year older than Raul.
Arias became close enough to Raul and friendly enough with the Villarreals that she would invite Raul over to spend the weekends at her house. She never had any complaints about the young man and thought he was a “nice boy.”
Another adult authority figure who took a keen interest in Raul Villarreal was Pastor Guillermo Tamez, from the Living Work Church.
From his days of being a fellow parishioner at Trinity Baptist, Pastor Tamez had known Raul since Raul “was just a baby.” Tamez enjoyed the Villarreals’ company and was especially fond of Raul. He kept up with the family over the years and liked to hear updates about the boy as Raul got older.
Tamez often met Raul at church and would talk to him about his life, especially when Raul was between fifteen and seventeen. The pastor sensed Raul was troubled and he wanted to be there to help him on his path. He had great faith in Raul and believed he simply needed additional support and guidance. “He was interested in him” and wanted to “try and help him out because the boy lacked self-confidence.”
Tamez would sit and counsel with Raul on a one-toone basis at the church. He eventually spent some time at the Villarreal household, where he would talk with Raul and the rest of the family.
Tamez feared Raul’s boredom would lead him down the wrong path of bad choices. Top of the list was joining a gang. The pastor had seen too many kids’ lives forever damaged by their association with gangs. He wanted to steer Raul away from that dead end.
Tamez feared that route for Raul because he knew the young boy was book-smart, but not street-smart. The pastor described the young boy as “a follower, not a leader.” He added that Raul was not “a hard-core person.”
Tamez was also somewhat critical of Raul’s father and his relationship with his son. He claimed that the father “did not pay enough attention” to Raul. He also lamented the fact the boy had to purchase his own clothes with his own money.
Pastor Tamez could not tell if what he said to Raul had actually sunk in.
Apparently, it did not.
Raul’s boredom led him down an even more destructive pathway: drugs and alcohol. Raul’s mother found out he was sniffing inhalants to get high—specifically, Texas shoe-shine, which is a local-brand shoe-shining spray that contains toluene. She also found out he had been sniffing for quite some time. (“Texas shoe-shine” is now slang for huffing inhalants.)
Raul was referred to a drug-and-alcohol counselor by a gentleman named Tommy Acosta, who worked for the Chicano Family Center, which helps low-income families.
Raul’s counselor, Norberto Torres, definitely agreed Raul was a sniffer. Instead of Texas shoe-shine, however, Torres believed the young man’s inhalant of choice was Freon, which was more readily accessible because of his father’s air conditioner repair service. Raul denied sniffing Freon or anything else. Torres informed Louisa Villarreal that it was quite common for sniffers to deny any wrongdoing.
Raul’s problem worsened, according to his mother, so she decided to take drastic action to save her son. With Torres’s guidance, they hoped to stage an intervention to help Raul with his drug problem.
On Wednesday, June 23, 1993, Torres arrived at the Villarreal home at 3:00 P.M. to plan out a strategy with Mrs. Villarreal. They all agreed to meet at the Houston Recovery Campus at 3:30 P.M., on Friday, June 25, in two days. Louisa Villarreal prayed she could convince her son to go with her to meet Torres and help him with his drug problem.
The next day, Raul strolled up to the convenience store and saw his good buddy Efrain Perez in the parking lot working on his family’s truck.
“What up Junior?” Raul inquired of his friend, using the name Perez most often went by.
“Fixin’ this piece of shit ride, bitch,” Efrain responded. “What the hell you up to?”
“Just killin’ some time. Gonna play a little Street Fighter. Whoop me some ass.” Raul laughed.
Efrain Perez nodded toward Raul, then stuck his head back under the hood of the truck. Raul headed into the store to get his game on.
EFRAIN PEREZ JR.
Chapter 4
Efrain Perez Jr. was born on November 19, 1975, in his grandmother Eusebia Guerrero’s home on East Monroe Street, in Brownsville, Texas, to Maria “Louise” Perez and Layo Guerrero, whose name strangely was not included on his son’s birth certificate.
The coupled lived in the tiny, cramped quarters of a ramsh
ackle pink wooden-framed house. The family employed the services of a midwife to birth baby Efrain. His arrival in the world was greeted by his one-year-old sister, Gabrilla, who was also born in the Guerrero home.
The excitement of a newborn was short-lived, however, as Louise and Layo, who were constantly fighting about something, decided to go their separate ways.
Louise packed her bags, took Efrain and Gabrilla with her, and moved out of the Guerrero household. The relocation was not too dramatic, as they literally moved just one block away.
Louise made a go of it alone. She took care of Efrain and Gabrilla, kept her place up, and also worked a job as a housecleaner. On the days when she had to go to work, she relied upon Efrain’s grandmother Eusebia to watch after her baby boy and girl.
Their stay was short-lived, for Louise met a young man named Ismael Castillo and married him. The new family moved, this time eight blocks away from the Guerreros, into a tiny wooden house with two rooms for the children, a master bedroom, a living room, and a kitchen.
The distance made it much more difficult for Eusebia to stop by and babysit. She had to take the city bus to get to the kids’ new home. She also worked a demanding job packing shrimp and it became physically harder for her to take care of her grandkids.
Louise, however, was eventually forced to send her son off to live with his grandmother and aunt. Efrain spent several years there and grew quite attached to both ladies.
Efrain was very fond of his aunt Doria Elia Casias. She lived in Rio Bravo in the late 1970s and early 1980s, and Eusebia used to bring Efrain and Gabrilla to visit her once a month. They would also make return visits for special holidays, such as Easter and Christmas. Doria loved the children as if they were her own.
Efrain and Gabrilla were ecstatic to find out Aunt Doria would be moving to Brownsville on New Year’s Eve, 1981. Efrain was only six, but he knew Doria was coming to live with them and he could see her as often as he liked.
But by 1984, Louise sought out better employment opportunities in Houston and took Efrain and Gabrilla with her. Four years later, when Efrain was a young teenager, he wanted to move back to Brownsville and live with his grandmother. Efrain asked his mother if he could and she agreed.
This routine between Houston and Brownsville was a continuous scenario. Trying to keep up with how many times Efrain moved back and forth between Brownsville and Houston is nearly impossible.
While he lived in Brownsville, Efrain attended Resaca Elementary School, home of the Mighty Chiefs. He went through grades one through six, on and off. He was always a very good student, was actively involved in school, and had plenty of friends. As he got older, he became interested in music and joined the school band. Efrain also stayed out of trouble and hung out with some of the better kids who made good grades.
In 1989, when Efrain was fourteen, he attended Cummings Junior High School, also in Brownsville. By eighth grade, he was enrolled in an honors course for every subject except reading. Eduardo Martinez, his earth science teacher, remembered Efrain as a good student who never got into trouble and never missed a single class. Martinez recalled Efrain’s two best buddies at the time were Pete Lopez and Tony Chavez. They were both bright students and good kids.
By February 1990, Louise wanted her son to come live with her again in Houston. Aunt Doria, however, did not want her nephew to go. It was the beginning of the second semester of eighth grade at Cummings for Efrain and she wanted him to have more stability. She was afraid that another abrupt upheaval would damage him. Furthermore, she felt as though Efrain was her own son and did not want to surrender him. She and Eusebia had made sure that Efrain was taught to respect and to obey. They also taught him manners, gave him a curfew, and made sure to discipline him when he got out of line.
Doria knew, however, she had no choice. Efrain was forced to withdraw from Cummings Junior High and transfer back to Houston yet again.
Eusebia was not thrilled about the prospect of Efrain leaving, either. She worked hard with him and believed he would turn out to be a good little boy. She was afraid another move would throw him off the right track.
She prayed for her grandson that he would make a seamless transition and not get mixed up with the wrong crowd.
Efrain was sent to Marshall Middle School upon his return to Houston, but was transferred after only two weeks to Hoffman Middle School. According to James Royster, Efrain’s English as a Second Language (ESL) teacher, Efrain was a “bright student” who hung out with the kids from his class. All of the ESL students were Hispanic and came from another school called Shotwell Middle School. Royster believed Efrain always hung out with the Hispanic kids because he was more comfortable around them.
According to Royster, Efrain and his new buddies used to walk confidently through the school corridors side by side. Despite Efrain’s seemingly intimidating presence, Royster declared he never saw the young man engage in aggressive behavior with any of the other students. He also believed Efrain was more than able to make decisions for himself. He was definitely not a follower.
Despite Efrain being a bright student, he started to get into trouble at school. According to Royster, he recalled having to break up a fight in the school hallway one day between Efrain and another boy. Royster was not sure what happened, but he came across the two boys swinging wildly at each other. Both boys were cursing and throwing punches.
Royster grabbed Efrain and pulled him off the other boy. Despite Efrain’s rail-thin stature, he put up serious resistance to his teacher.
“I had to get him into a different area to settle him down,” Royster recalled. “I had a tough time getting him settled down.”
Efrain met another young boy in his same grade, named Joe Medellin, who was also part of ESL. They became close friends.
In September 1991, Efrain graduated from Hoffman Middle School to Eisenhower High School. Assistant Principal Greg Colschen’s most relevant memory of Efrain is that he skipped too many classes. Colschen was surprised, because he knew Efrain had done well in middle school, but now it seemed like the teenager was “uninterested in school.” Colschen called Efrain into his office numerous times to discuss his absenteeism, but Efrain never gave him any good reasons why he was cutting class. Colschen did note that Efrain had been spending more time with a group of kids from his Heather Glen Subdivision, including Joe Medellin and another boy, named Peter Cantu.
Colschen attempted to contact Efrain’s parents to discuss their son’s truancy; however, he was never able to reach them. He even wrote and mailed the family certified letters, which were ignored.
Wednesday, December 18, 1991—7:00 P.M.
Foundry United Methodist Church
Jones Road North
Houston, Texas
Mary Jo Hardy drove her 1989 Dodge van from her job as a relief pharmacist to the Foundry United Methodist Church so she could attend choir practice. She parked her vehicle, locked the doors, and headed inside the church.
After more than two-and-a-half hours of tension-relieving singing, she called it a night and said good-bye to her fellow choir members. Hardy headed outside the church toward the spot in the parking lot where she parked her van. She knew she was tired from the long day, but she felt as if she were losing her mind.
Where is my van? she thought.
She walked to the exact area where she had parked it and only discovered a pile of shattered glass. Someone had broken into her van and had stolen it, along with a truck that she had parked beside.
Visibly upset, Hardy returned to the church, where she located a telephone and contacted the Jersey Village police. One of her fellow parishioners offered her a ride to her home in Cypress-Fairbanks, which she accepted.
Thursday, December 19, 1991—12:30 A.M.
Houston, Texas
Harris County sheriff’s deputy D. C. Bair and his partner, Deputy Tom Davis, were driving their marked car on the north side of Houston, near the 9000 block of Ella Boulevard. The two deputies were assig
ned to the “hot spot division,” a narcotics enforcement team that traversed the city. This particular evening found the officers cruising near Loop 610 looking for anything unusual.
They definitely found it.
Deputy Bair nudged Deputy Davis as they came upon a unique situation. “Check it out.” Bair nodded toward the vehicles in front of him. They watched as a blue Dodge van pushed a 1984 two-door blue Chevrolet Monte Carlo along the road at a snail’s pace. The blue car had apparently broken down and was being assisted by the blue van.
Deputy Davis put in a call to dispatch with the plate numbers of the van. As the two men waited for a response, they slowly drove up beside the two vehicles. Deputy Davis glanced into the van and saw a young, thin Hispanic boy behind the wheel. The driver ignored the deputy and focused on the car in front of him. The deputies then pulled alongside the blue car and saw another young Hispanic boy driving it.
“We’ve got a make on the vehicle in question,” the dispatcher informed the deputies. “The blue Dodge van was reported [as] stolen, to the Jersey Village Police Department late last night, from the Foundry United Methodist Church parking lot.”
Deputy Bair flipped on his police car lights and Deputy Davis pointed to the drivers to pull over to the side of the road. Since the van was stolen, the officers were prepared to bring its driver into custody. Deputy Bair exited his cruiser and walked up to the van’s driver’s-side door. He peered into the open window and asked the boy for his identification. The boy, who looked rather bored by the whole affair, complied and handed his driver’s license over to the deputy.
The driver of the stolen van was Efrain Perez.
Deputy Bair asked Perez to step out of the vehicle. He then arrested the juvenile and put him in handcuffs. Perez did not put up any resistance.
Pure Murder Page 3