“You know it happens all the time,” Marr said. “Dan’s an unparalleled CIA field agent and they’re happy to get him back. With Alicia gone, he has nothing to lose by making a deal. His ex-wife and sons cut off contact with him a long time ago.”
“What’ll he do?” Annie asked.
“Whatever the CIA wants him to do,” Marr said. “I expect he’ll be stirring the pot in South America or Central America. That was his area of expertise.”
“Do you think we can get any kind of confirmation from the CIA?”
Marr laughed. “C’mon, Annie. You know better than that.”
“What about the Nation of Texas? Do you think he’ll lead it from afar?”
“I seriously doubt it,” Marr said. “The CIA will probably keep him on a tight leash. But I suspect that he’ll stay involved with whatever that organization becomes.”
“Did you come all the way to Houston to tell me about this?”
“No, I have to see the detective,” he said. “But I also needed to see you.”
“I’m glad you did,” she said. “’But I’ve got to ask you. Are you entirely free of the Nation of Texas? Can you put it all behind you?”
“I know I’ve got a lot to prove to you,” he said. “But yes, now that Dan’s gone, I won’t have further contact with any secessionist.”
She lowered her eyes and thought for a moment. “I’d like to believe you, Tom, but it’s hard, given everything that you just told me.”
“I know you’re disappointed that I was in contact with Dan again, but I’ve come clean. Can we move on?”
“Let me think about it, Tom,” she said. “You know what’s happening at the paper right now. I’m slammed.”
She stood up and he followed her to the door, put his arms around her and kissed her lightly.
“I hope that within a couple of weeks, Betsy will be back and you can come to the ranch to visit us,” he said. “I want to court you properly.”
“No promises, but I like the sound of that.”
CHAPTER 43
STATE SENATOR’S SLAYING AT RESTAURANT MAY BE SOLVED, TEXAS RANGER SAYS
By Travis Dunbar
Houston Times Reporter
Texas Ranger Mark Ingram said Tuesday the state’s law-enforcement unit has recovered the weapon used to kill State Senator Sam Wurzbach, who died earlier this month after a sniper attack at a restaurant near San Antonio.
Ingram said the department received a package containing a rifle “almost certainly” used to kill the state senator as he prepared to speak at a party held at the Grey Moss Inn in Grey Forest. Wurzbach, 41, was a native of Fredericksburg and represented his district in the legislature.
Authorities are still examining the rifle, but Ingram said Wurzbach’s likely killer was Alicia Perez, a fugitive in a four-year-old federal case federal case involving two murders and a drug conspiracy. He said Perez died recently at a Mexican hospital from a brain tumor. She was 54.
Wurzbach, the leader of a fledgling movement to create a German-Texas enclave in the Hill Country, had received several threats from the underground Nation of Texas, according to Ingram. The state senator had spoken against the secessionists’ plans for winning Texas and converting it into a republic. Wurzbach wanted to carve out a place where German Texans could celebrate their culture.
Ingram declined to discuss the whereabouts of Dan Riggins, the de facto leader of the Nation of Texas organization and Perez’s partner. Riggins, a former CIA field agent, has also been a fugitive, but Ingram said federal charges against him have been dropped.
He said he couldn’t answer questions about why there is no longer an indictment against Riggins and Perez.
“It’s a matter of national security,” he said. “I’m prohibited from saying anything more.”
CHAPTER 44
Betsy sat with her head in her hands at a table in the dressing room at the Texas Girls Club. She was scheduled to dance during the afternoon shift, but she was so tired she’d rest until the hateful old lady, Mrs. Jimenez, started lining them up.
She was almost asleep when she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. She sat up, startled until she realized Leka and her two Albanian friends were hovering over her with concern.
“Betsy, are you okay?”
She was so glad to hear Leka’s sweet voice that her lips trembled and she started crying. She sobbed for a few minutes while the three young women sat down beside her and Leka held her hand. It was only Betsy’s fifth shift at the club, but she and Leka had become fast friends, talking as much as they could between their times on stage. She’d learned a lot about the three Albanians, including their increasing worry about the six girls who’d been sent to the ranch in the Hill Country. Leka couldn’t get in touch with her cousin because her cell phone had been taken. She thought they might be prisoners, though that seemed kind of crazy to Betsy.
“Are you sick?”
“No,” Betsy said, reaching into her duffle bag to find a tissue. “Patrick and I had a bad fight last night. I didn’t sleep much.”
“Poor girl,” Leka said soothingly. She translated to the other girls and they nodded vigorously in empathy. They’d learned a lot about men behaving badly during their short lives. It didn’t matter where you lived or what language you spoke. Men made life difficult for women all over the world.
“Why did you fight with Patrick?”
“He had lipstick on his face and neck when he picked me up,” Betsy sniffed. “I think he’s been screwing one of the skanky girls at Donnie’s.”
“What is screwing and skanky?” Leka asked with a puzzled look.
“Bad sexy,” Betsy said. She mimed the sex act, complete with thrusting and faux moans. The Albanians understood immediately. They giggled helplessly, then recovered and shook their heads at the perfidy of men.
“You must stop giving him money,” Leka said. “He is a bad boyfriend and cannot be trusted. He might give you a disease.”
Betsy started crying again and the girls surrounded her with hugs and pats. But she saw that Mrs. Jimenez had arrived and was giving them the evil eye. The large woman shook her finger menacingly and ordered them in her odd mixture of English and Spanish to quit wasting time and line up.
For the remainder of her shift, Betsy danced and stripped lethargically. Her meager tips showed that her heart wasn’t in it. She’d just come off the stage when Bobo the bouncer stopped her at the entrance to the dressing room.
“Hey, Sugar,” he said leering at her pasties-tipped breasts. “A customer in the VIP room wants a lap dance from you.”
“I don’t do lap dances,” Betsy said without the usual aplomb that kept him at bay. “You know that, so stop asking me.”
She hated Bobo with his shaved head, disgusting beard and persistently nasty manner. She stayed out of his path and knew never to be alone with him because he’d grab a feel – or worse. He was so creepy.
“Well, Miss High and Mighty,” he said. “I say you do, or you’re out of here.”
She glared at him, wondering what she’d do next. Would he physically escort her to the VIP room upstairs? So far, he’d abided by Krause’s directive that she didn’t have to do lap dances. She’d seen other girls do them upstairs, waggling their breasts and butts close to customers’ faces. Who knew what went on after that? Her refusal was a bone of contention between her and Patrick, who was always pestering her to bring home more money.
To her relief, she could see Leka and the girls headed their way. Bobo stepped back a few inches.
“Bobo, Betsy needs to go with us,” Leka said diplomatically. “Mrs. Jimenez is looking for he
r in the dressing room.”
“Okay, girls. Behave,” he said lightly, walking away. Betsy knew he was afraid to bully the Albanians because of their friend, Zogu, who worked for Krause. The Albanian man stopped by often to make sure they were treated properly. Bobo seemed cowed by Zogu, though Bobo was at least six inches taller and one hundred pounds heavier.
“Thank you, girls,” Betsy said. “He’s such a horrible man.”
“If you talk with him like a friend, he loses some of his meanness,” Leka said. “But he looks at you with evil in his eyes, so we will watch out for you.
“Zogu is coming to take us home in a few minutes,” she added in a whisper. “Would you like him to take you to your motel?”
“Sure,” Betsy said. “I won’t have to wait for Patrick. I’ll surprise him when I get home and maybe we can make up.”
They dressed quickly and waited under the striped awning for Zogu’s car. He showed up promptly at 7 p.m. He smiled and nodded when Leka asked him to drop Betsy off at her motel room.
Betsy didn’t see Patrick’s pickup in the parking lot, but she had her key. Leka told Zogu to wait until she got inside safely.
She opened the door, looked around and gasped. Her belongings were strewn throughout the room, as usual. But Patrick and all of his things were gone.
CHAPTER 45
Annie sat at her kitchen counter eating a simple supper of yogurt, raspberries and bananas and reading the paper, something she hadn’t had a chance to do earlier. She’d gotten up at 6 a.m. for another planning meeting about changes in the newsroom.
She was startled to hear a knock on the back door. It was turning dark and visitors usually didn’t go to the back. She got up and looked out. Four young women and a short, scruffy-looking man waved and smiled at her. She opened the door, leaving the screen door latched.
“Annie, you probably don’t recognize me, but I’m Betsy Marr,” the tallest woman with long, honey-blonde hair said in a West Texas twang. Annie looked closer and she could see Tom Marr’s luminous eyes shining in the woman’s face.
“Betsy, is it really you?” she said.
“Yes, and these are my friends. Could you let us in? We’ll explain everything.”
She opened the door and Betsy enveloped her in a hug. The young woman looked healthy, but from her swollen face, Annie could see she’d been crying.
“Oh, Annie. I’m so glad you’re here. These are my friends: Zogu, Leka, Mimoza and Afrodita. Zogu works for Kyle Krause at his Texas Girls clubs and the girls and I dance at the Gulf Freeway club.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” Betsy,” Annie said. “Please, everyone come in.”
Annie shook hands with the man and three other women and motioned them into her living room, bringing in a few straight chairs. She was shocked that Betsy was dancing at a topless club, but didn’t want to say anything that sounded judgmental. The young woman and her companions seemed nervous and probably needed her help.
“What brings you all here, honey?” Annie smiled. “Your dad was in town just a few days ago. He misses you so much.”
That was probably the wrong way to start the conversation, she realized. Betsy’s face crumpled and she started wailing.
“Patrick, my boyfriend, left me,” she said between sobs. “We had a fight last night and he moved out while I was at work.”
Leka, sitting beside Betsy on the sofa, moved closer to hug her.
“If it weren’t for my friends, I wouldn’t have been able to get to your house,” Betsy continued. “I don’t even have a car. I want to go home.”
“Sweetie, of course you do,” Annie said. “We’ll call your dad after we talk to your friends.”
Betsy wiped her eyes and grasped the hand of the woman introduced as Leka.
“I told my friends that you were a reporter and that you could help them with their problem,” she said. “Would you listen to their story?”
“Of course,” Annie said. “Can I get you all some snacks?”
“Yes, please,” Betsy said. “We’ve been dancing all afternoon and we don’t get a break. They brought me here instead of stopping to eat dinner.”
Annie rummaged through her refrigerator and pantry and brought out crackers, cheese, hummus, peanuts and a carton of lemonade with plastic glasses. Zogu and the women fell upon the food hungrily, thanking her with many smiles, and suddenly the visitors seemed more at ease. Whatever their story was, Annie wanted to take her time and listen properly. They were obviously foreign-born and probably wary of trusting anyone. It had taken courage for them to support Betsy and bring her here. It appeared that two of the women spoke little English, while Leka and Zogu sounded fairly fluent.
“I will tell you my story,” Zogu said. “But I beg of you not to go to the police. We need to get the girls back first.”
He told Annie about coming from to Houston from Albania seven years ago, meeting his wife Genta and finding his job with Kyle Krause. He’d learned that Krause had paid the Russian Mafia from time to time to bring girls in from Eastern Europe. So he offered, with his brother’s help, to smuggle ten girls from Albania after Krause had said he needed more dancers.
“But I did not know enough,” he said. “I did not know that Ms. Juliana was so cold-hearted and that she ran another business. I didn’t know that bad things would happen.”
“Was the body found floating in the ship channel last month one of your girls?” Annie asked. She looked at Leka, Mimoza and Afrodita with dawning recognition.
He nodded solemnly and the girls leaned forward to hear his explanation. All this time they hadn’t gotten answers about the tenth girl’s fate.
“Arlinda got too friendly with one of the sailors,” he said. “She was kind of the wild one, always looking for adventure. She drank vodka with him at nights on deck, though she wasn’t supposed to leave the rooms below. One night she drank too much and slipped overboard. He tried to rescue her, but she couldn’t swim.”
Leka picked up the thread, wanting to support Zogu and his story.
“Our families in Tirana are very poor and we had few chances to make a living,” she said. “Coming to Texas was a chance we knew would be hard, but we all wanted a better life.
“Zogu picked us up and took us to a motel for a few weeks,” she said. “He treated us well, brought us food and his wife Genta helped us. She and her friends cut our hair, took us to stores to buy clothes and makeup and taught us how to dance,” she said.
Zogu looked grateful and resumed the story.
“All went well until we brought our nine girls to show off their dancing at the Gulf Freeway club,” Zogu said. “Ms. Juliana decided to keep Leka, Mimoza and Afrodita to dance there. But she said the six other girls would have to go to the ranch.”
“Is this the ranch that Kyle Krause and Juliana Souza own in the Hill Country?” Annie asked.
Zogu nodded. “She drove our girls there, took away their cell phones and we haven’t been able to talk to them.”
“What do they do at the ranch?” Annie said.
“Ms. Juliana wouldn’t tell us why she was sending the girls there,” Zogu said. “It is supposed to be a big secret, but I have heard whispers from other people who work for Mr. Krause.”
He paused for maximum effect. “They say the girls are forced to make babies for rich people to buy.”
“That’s terrible.” Annie was horrified, but everything Zogu said sounded truthful so far. “Have you tried to check this out?”
“No, Miss. The ranch is guarded with fences and maybe electricity.”
He hung his head. “I know that I’ve done wrong, but please don’t let Mr. Kra
use and Miss Juliana know that I’ve told you. They will kill me.”
“I understand,” she said. “We will send a reporter there right away. Give us a few days to check it out. Perhaps you and the girls should go about your business as usual and not let on that anything is different. Can you tell the manager that Betsy just decided to resign?”
Zogu nodded, and Leka spoke to the girls briefly in Albanian. They all got up to go, looking relieved. Zogu brought in Betsy’s suitcase and the girls hugged her goodbye. Betsy and Leka cried and promised to call each other.
After they all left but Betsy, Annie picked up the phone, where she had Marr’s number on speed-dial.
“Are you ready to talk to your dad?” Betsy nodded.
“I’ll leave you alone,” she said, walking to the spare bedroom to make up a bed for her visitor. She didn’t know how long Betsy would be with her, but it would be good to reconnect with the girl she’d loved. She couldn’t quite believe that Betsy had lived with a man and danced at a topless club. Annie could only hope she wasn’t too traumatized to bounce back from her experiences.
She heard Betsy crying again this time with relief.
“Daddy, I’ve missed you so much … Yes, I love you too, very, very much.”
CHAPTER 46
Annie and Travis had spent two days in the Hill Country trying to unravel the mysteries of Kyle Krause’s ranch before making a frontal assault. They’d done the obligatory courthouse search on the first day, confirming that Krause and his girlfriend Juliana had owned the property for a few years and had added even more acreage since their initial purchase. Construction permits showed plans for additional buildings and Annie and Travis were able to study them. The expansive ranch property included two motel-style structures plus one-story administrative offices and a cafeteria building. The operation had a bed-and-breakfast license, but appeared to accommodate only those travelers who made arrangements privately in advance. Since Fredericksburg was the largest city near its rural location, they’d tried to find people in town who’d worked there. But they hadn’t come up with any.
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