A Quiet Street in El Paso

by Jim Daddio

  Mat interrupted, “Used to make meth…right?”

  “It was. Now it has changed.”

  “Explain.”

  “It is what I told you. I used to pick up sacks of stuff. Now it is boxes. This is my first time with these heavy packages. I don’t know what they are.”

  “And of course, you're going to tell me you don’t know who you work for. And you’ll probably say you never met anybody in person and each Tuesday you get in your little truck and the bag is there and a white envelope with money…right?”

  Hector turned and stared at Mat. He showed a little smile. He said, “You’re the cop. You have all the right answers.”

  “What are you paid, Hector? Tell me how much you make.”

  “Three hundred a week.”

  Mat ran his hand across his face. The rain began to fall heavier. He could feel the drops begin to pound on his head. “Let’s move over under that tree.”

  The two men hustled over under a large oak. Mat continued, “How long have you been doing this?”

  “Two years.”

  “Well, Hector, it’s time you get a raise. Listen to me. Don’t you tell anybody about this meeting. It never happened. You tell your people you need a raise. Two years and no raise, well, it’s just not right. It’s dangerous out there. Tell them Homeland Security is tightening things up. You need six hundred more.”

  “Jesus, man. They won’t go for it.”

  “They will. We split the raise. I get a three hundred and you get three.”

  “You…you want in? Is that it?”

  “Just do it or go to jail. You can’t win, Hector. If you fuck it up and think you can get out of this by telling someone I offered you a bribe, well, it won't work. I'll deny ever meeting you. And next Tuesday morning when you drop the bag and the mark picks it up, you'll have an entire SWAT team pointing assault weapons at your head.”

  Hector raised his hand. “I get it. What if they don’t go for it?”

  “Hector, Hector…two years. You’re a trusted delivery man. They need you. Trust me. They probably wonder why you haven’t asked for more money by now. They don’t want to lose a good man like you, Hector. Hey, you’re the man…you’re their man.”

  The men stood and started toward the SUV. Hector said, “I’m going to be late for work. I’ve never been late.”

  Mat threw his arms around the Mexican’s shoulders and said, “Blame it on the storm, partner. Hey, I like the sound of that…partner.”

  Hector’s whole body trembled as they ran through the rain. Mat called out, “See you next Tuesday…partner.”

  Fourteen

  The loud rap music rattled through Mat’s brain as he watched a young naked dancer gyrate to the loud rap music. He was very drunk. He sat quietly trying to stay awake. He dozed off for a minute and felt his head snap back and forth. He shook his head, trying to clear his brain. He slowly stood and walked toward the back of the club. One of the bouncers walked toward him. He recognized Mat and backed off. Mat slithered past him and staggered into the dressing room. He found a lounge chair and flopped down. He spread out and took a deep breath.

  Several of the dancers didn’t even glance at him as he moaned and groaned. He looked around for a minute and then passed out.

  Divine walked into the dressing room and noticed Mat lying on the lounge. She shook her head and smiled. She walked over and bent down. She called out, “Mat. Hey, get your ass up. We’re about to close.”

  Mat stirred but didn’t open his eyes. She reached for him with the idea of shaking him but remembered the last time she did that he had reacted violently and almost knocked her head off. She called out again, “Mat, come on. Get up.”

  One of the bouncers walked into the dressing room. He looked over. He said, “Not again. Your pal is really beginning to piss me off. Cop or no cop, I’m about to break his ass apart.”

  Mat opened one eye. He looked over and said softly, “You couldn’t break apart a pretzel.”

  “Get out and go home, okay?” The man turned and walked away.

  “You able to move, Mat?” Divine asked.

  He moved his body upward and rubbed his hand across his face. “How long have I been out?”

  “Don’t know. I’ve been busy. Some guy paid me a ton of cash for lap dances.”

  “Do I know him?”

  “How the fuck would I know. Jesus, Mat. It’s my job.”

  “I know. I know. I just wanted to know if somebody was playing us.”

  “Sometimes you’re a little nuts, you know?”

  “He still here?”

  “Come on. Let it go.”

  “Is he still here?” Mat snapped.

  “He’s at the bar. You can’t miss him. He’s a good looking tall black man.”

  Mat shook his head in disgust. “It’s Jamar…the bastard is playing us.”

  “He was not. He liked my action.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Divine watched as Mat walked toward the door. She shouted, “Come on. Don’t be doing something stupid. He’s just a customer. That’s all.”

  Mat knew right away the man was Jamar. He knew he was a meth dealer. What Divine didn’t know was he also was Mat’s key informer and, in return for information about human smuggling operations, Mat wouldn’t give him up to the drug officers.

  Mat walked up behind Jamar and whispered, “You be liken’ my lady’s action, right?”

  Jamar didn’t turn around. He stared straight ahead. “I don’t know who your lady is, but she can’t be workin’ here. Ladies are too classy for you. These ladies are open for business. I dropped a few hundred on a sweet ass. That’s all I know.”

  Mat leaned closer and whispered, “Just as long as you know that sweet ass is just for dancing and not for nothing else.”

  “You’d be telling me this sweet thing is your lady.”

  “Do I have to send you an e-mail?”

  “And you’re tellin’ me to stay away. The lady is a dancer in a nude bar. You may own her in your bedroom, but in here’s she available for anyone who wants her…and like I said, I like her action.”

  “Don’t be foolin’ with me, Jamar. Don’t get too carried away. Now, tell me about the massacre.”

  Jamar swung his chair around. He snapped his head back. “It’s some scary shit, man. I’m watchin’ my ass. I can tell you that.”

  “Why’d they hit Fat Baby?”

  “Some big-time dude wants in. That’s all I know. Your boys need to find them. Could be a war.”

  “Could be the best thing for this town. Kill off all you drug dealers.”

  “Hey…hey…it’s a business. That’s all it is. We’ve be workin’ this town for years. People want…we supply.”

  “I don’t want to hear that shit.”

  “And why do you care? You ain’t no drug cop. You be chasin’ the Mexicans.”

  “Just curious. Hey, you got anything for me?”

  “Maybe…maybe not.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Just don’t be bustin’ my ass ‘cause I love that blonde ass on my lap.”

  “Jamar, if you want to pay for some private dancing…then pay, but don’t be thinking beyond that. Get it?”

  Jamar didn’t answer. He changed the subject. “Two brothers. They have a plumbin’ business. They got two white panel trucks. They don’t got no real plumbin’ business. They be movin’ Mexicans for a few years. I hear they crammed so many into one of the vans a little girl died.”

  “Name?”

  “Custom Plumbing, That’s all I know.”

  Mat shook his head. “I’d like a meeting with Fat Baby. I…”

  Jamar laughed out loud. “What? You got to be jokin’, man. Nobody meets with the fat man. Hell, I’ve never even talked to the man.”

  “Tell him I got news he needs to know. Just tell him that I am now part of his team.”

  “I’ll tell one of his boys, but I can tell you this…he won’t be meetin’ you f
ace to face.”

  “He can call me on my private cell.” Mat gave him the number and left.

  ~ * ~

  Mat lay in bed as the dancer called Divine walked out of the bathroom. He called out, “You like that lap dancing stuff? Rubbin’ up against hard dicks all night.?”

  “Jesus, Mat, not again. It’s my job. I made six hundred dollars tonight.” She shouted, “Six hundred big ones.”

  “Just seems strange to me.”

  “First off, I don’t care what it seems like to you. Secondly, it does nothing for me or to me. I just fake it and let it ride. If an asshole gets off, oh well.”

  Mat laughed. “I just don’t get it.”

  “Don’t hurt yourself thinking about it. Can I stay the night?”

  “Sure. But I got to get up early.”

  “You meeting that lady cop again?”

  “We got a meeting on a big one.”

  “I saw her. She’s hot…in a different way. All dressed up and shit.”

  “When did you see her?”

  “Last week. You two were having lunch. I didn’t say anything before.”

  “So you think she’s hot, huh?”

  Susan rolled on top of Mat. “Don’t be dippin’ that dagger of yours in her. ‘Cause I won’t be letting you pop her and then you come to me thinkin’ you can have me for a second pop.”

  “First, I don’t have the slightest interest in her and secondly, I told you before. When I’m doin’ one lady, I don’t fuck around with any other.”

  “Good. ‘Cause I won’t be doin’ it with anyone but you as long as—”

  “Does this mean we got a thing going on here?”

  “I guess we do. I guess we do. So, let’s do it again…and again and…”

  Mat laughed and pulled her close to him. She pulled herself free of his arms and slid down his body until her mouth surrounded him. He smiled and closed his eyes, hoping he could stay awake long enough to enjoy himself.

  Fifteen

  It had been over a month since Mat had met with Hector. The dollars he had received so far didn’t sound like much, but Mat was able to hit a few horse races and win big at a Hold ‘em poker game. He paid off a few gambling debts and still had a few bucks left over.

  The investigation into finding the human smuggling ring Jamar had told him about was moving slowly. He had alerted the Border Patrol and Betty had also contacted several members of Homeland Security to be on the lookout for the white vans with the lettering, ‘Custom Plumbing.’ The vans had yet to be seen.

  Mat had been disappointed Fat Baby had not called him. He also hadn’t seen Jamar around either. It seemed after the massacre the drug scene had gone underground. Even the Drug Enforcement team talked about how things had slowed down.

  Mat and Betty had made two small arrests and were spending most of their time trying to find the plumbing brothers. Mat sat across from Betty as they ate lunch. She said, “Thanks for finding my apartment. It’s a very nice place. And reasonable, too. Hey, why not come over tonight and see the place and have a little dinner? I make a mean paella.”

  Mat hesitated for a second. It was the first time he could remember Betty ever talking about anything but their jobs. He tapped his fork on his plate. “I guess. If you’re sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure. I wouldn’t have asked. I must say sometimes you amaze me. It’s like you’re afraid of anything social. You never talk about what you do after work or for entertainment. You are a mysterious man.”

  “Not much to talk about. I do my job the best I can and after that I go my own way. I guess I’m not too social.”

  “Well, at least come over and relax. We’ll have a few margaritas and a good dinner.”

  ~ * ~

  Mat found his way to Betty’s apartment, parked and walked down the long outside hallway. He found her door and rang the bell. Betty opened the door and motioned for him to come in.

  He noticed right away something different about her. She was dressed in tight black pants and a loosely fitting black sweater that hung very low and open over her shoulders. Her breasts were too exposed. Either he had missed something in the way she dressed for work or she had some type of push-up bra on. Her dark hair slid over her shoulders and her behind seemed firm and tight as he followed her down the hallway. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she glided into the living room. She called out, “What do you think? Pretty nice, right?”

  Mat had to laugh to himself. Was she talking about the way she looked or the way she had decorated the apartment? He replied, “Very cool. Everything fits in very nicely.”

  “You won’t believe this, but this furniture and all this stuff is rented. I couldn’t believe the choices I had. I really feel at home here.”

  Mat smiled, nodded his head and watched as she walked into the kitchen. He had already had several shots of tequila and was having trouble focusing on nothing but her ass. The more she moved around, the better she looked.

  “I made a pitcher of my famous margaritas. I can’t tell you my recipe, but you’re going to love them.”

  She poured the drinks and they moved back into the living room. Mat took a few swigs of the drink. He smiled, “Very good. I like them on the rocks like this.”

  “Me, too. Now, no talk about work tonight. I figured we’ve been working together for over two months now and I know nothing about you except what you told me on the first day.”

  “There is nothing more to say. Like I said, I do my job and—”

  She interrupted, “I know. But you should have some outside interests. Like a girl friend or hobbies…golf, tennis…something.”

  Mat couldn’t keep his eyes from roaming away from her almost completely exposed breasts. He took one last drink and emptied his glass. Betty leaned over and reached for his glass. Oh, my god, he thought. She’s fucking beautiful.

  “Let me fill it.” She grabbed the glass from his hand and jumped up from the couch. The alcohol was gaining control over his senses. He could feel the energy flow through his body. His mind was cloudy, but he felt in control. He was trying to figure out what she was doing. Was she really making a play for him? She for sure didn’t know anybody in town. Maybe she was horny. Maybe she was looking for some action.

  Betty ambled back into the living room. She bent over and handed him the glass. He couldn’t believe what was going on. He was becoming more screwed up by the second.

  She slid down on the couch. She had moved closer. She smiled and tossed her long hair back off her shoulders. It was over for Mat. He was hard as he had ever been. Something was telling him to make a move on her. She wanted him. She was giving him signals. Another side was saying no. It would make working with her more complicated. What happened if she got angry at him for making a move on her? He took a deep breath and said to himself, fuck it. I got to do this.

  He slowly moved closer. He began to reach out for her when his cell phone blasted a loud ringing tone. They both jumped a little. Mat slid back and grabbed his phone. He didn’t recognize the number. He didn’t want to answer but instinctively he pushed the talk button. He announced, “This is Mat.”

  A deep voice said, “Someone told me you’re with the El Paso Immigration Force. I hear you want to talk to me.”

  Mat cleared his head. He figured it had to be Fat Baby. “Is this Fat Baby?”

  “Talk to me.”

  He stood and moved quickly out the front door. He put his hand over the phone and looked back at Betty, “I have to take this.”

  He closed the door and said, “I just wanted to tell you I am now part of the team.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “I got a partner. His name is Hector. A real nice and trustworthy Mexican delivery boy.”

  Fat Baby lied, “I don’t know anybody by the name of Hector.”

  “Sure you do. He helps make your operation run. And we are now good friends. So, listen. I could give a good shit about your business. It stinks…so what? I made a
nice deal with your boy, Hector. But it ain’t enough.” He paused for a second and said, “You listening?”

  “Keep talking.”

  “Now, don’t be messing with Hector. You got a good man there. Leave him doing his job. Something happens to him and a bad rain will fall on your parade. And you don’t want me making that happen.”

  “Okay, but why are you telling me this?”

  “’Cause I’m making peanuts. I need some action from your side.”

  “And why should I believe all this shit.”

  “It’s simple. I’m having coffee and I see this Mexican drop a bag next to his feet. Then I see this shady looking dude wander over and pick it up. So, I check it out again and well…”

  “I get it.”

  “Good. Now I need five hundred a week. Not much, is it? Just let Jamar deliver it.”

  “And what do I get for this generous gift giving?”

  “Me.”

  There was silence on the other end. Fat Baby thought to himself. All the years he had taken to build his drug business he never had a bad cop on the payroll. It didn’t seem like a bad idea. It was for sure a small price to pay.

  “And no bullshit arrests or harassment…right?”

  “Like I said, it’s not my job. I won’t ever help you or hurt you. I’m just along for the ride. Silence is a wonderful thing.”

  Fat Baby replied, “It works both ways. And so does trust. Trust me and I trust you.”

  The phone went dead. Mat walked back into the apartment. The mood was over. They ate a quiet dinner and he left. He couldn’t help thinking about two things as he drove to the club. One, having close to three grand a month in his pocket and two, ravishing Divine all night. But then another thought popped into his mind. Goddamn Betty looked so fine. He knew she wanted him. He felt it. But what was he going to do about it? That was a question for another day...another time.

  Sixteen

  For as long as he could remember, Fat Baby had never felt so nervous and unsure about what was about to happen…a meeting with a cartel who wanted a piece of his action. He knew they had hit one of his manufacturing houses. They had murdered three of his people. They had the power and the money to take over his entire operation. In the years since he had taken control of the meth drug trade in El Paso, he had yet to use violence. He had done his research and checked his sales. The man was right. The meth business had fallen off. He didn’t pay that much attention because he was making so much money. But he had to find out more about the new drug. How it got past him, he didn’t know.