The Cartel Strikes Back: The Ted Higuera Series, Book 5

by Pendelton Wallace

  If you liked Cat, you have to read the Catrina Flaherty Mysteries. Cat currently has two stories, Mirror Image and Murder Strikes Twice. Cat’s love knot will be resolved in her new novel, tentatively titled The China Town Murders, a convoluted rape investigation, due out in early 2017.

  Ted, Chris and the gang will be back. Keep track of the progress of their next adventure on my website at www.pennwallace.com.

  For now, if you liked this story, you can browse my other books and short stories at http://www.pennwallace.com/index.html.

  Thank you very much for reading my book. I hope you enjoy my other works and don’t forget to write.

  Pendelton C. Wallace

  October 27th, 2016

  San Diego, California

  Acknowledgements

  I need to first thank my better half, Dawn Tift. Dawn worked with me from the start of The Cartel Strikes Back to shape the story and develop the characters. She gave me invaluable insight into how a woman thinks for my female characters.

  Brandi McCann designed the cover for this book. She did her customary outstanding job in taking an idea and bringing it to life.

  Donna Rich was my proofreader. If there are any errors left in this book, they are wholly my fault.

  Mike Gibbs, a retired San Diego police officer, was my mentor and helper in shaping the police scenes. He corrected my errors and helped me write the cop-speak dialog.

  I want to give a special thanks to Ron Ramey Esq. Ron was my attorney consultant who helped me shape Chris and Candace’s pathway through the legal maze. I would have greatly undervalued HB&J without him.

  I must thank my beta readers who saw the first draft of the manuscript and helped me smooth out the rough edges. You know who you are.

  I have to thank Mama. She’s been in my corner from the beginning. She encouraged me when the night seemed the darkest. I would not be publishing my ninth book without her. Muchas gracias.

  And finally, I have to thank you, dear reader, especially those of you who have taken the time to write to me with your thoughts and comments. Without patrons, artists don’t last very long. The fact that you read and enjoy what I write drives me onward. Like Thomas Jefferson, I believe that a free society must read to maintain its freedom. You are all freedom fighters.

  Pendelton C. Wallace

  August 16th 2016

  Bocas del Toro, Panamá

  Author’s Note

  I hate to tell you that The Cartel Strikes Back is based on real events happening in Mexico as I write this. I love Mexico, it’s my second country. I in no way mean to disparage my grandparent’s homeland. I have tried to show life as it really is. There are good people and bad people in every country. I think of Mexico mostly as a country of beautiful landscapes, a rich history, lovely people and wonderful food and music. The fact that there are cancers eating at its soul greatly distresses me.

  I’m sure you recognized some of the events in this book. I tried to take the real-life story and twist it to meet my fictional needs. Some of the people you met are based on real people, but most of them have nothing to do with the drug industry (as far as I know).

  Some of the places are real, some entirely figments of my imagination. I want to thank Aly di Nas and Jillian Roldan (Owner of Tailhunter) for allowing me to use them in this book. They’re both real, fun people.

  To paraphrase the old Dragnet TV show, the story you have just read is true, the names have been changed to protect the stupid.

  I get a lot of mail about Catrina Flaherty. Is she based on a real person? No woman could do what she does.

  I’m here to tell you that she really exists. I based Cat on a female PI I did some consulting work for back in the 90’s. She was the scariest woman I ever met, but she had one of the biggest hearts I’ve ever known. She really did rescue women from abusive husbands, track rapists and make jobs for women trying to get back on their feet. Of course, I changed her name to protect her privacy, but when you start thinking Cat couldn’t really do all the things she does, think again.

  I hope you’ll enjoy the Catrina Flaherty Mysteries, book 3 of which is due out later this year.

  Speaking of mail, I’d love to hear from you. I’ve already gotten a couple of ideas for future books from readers like you. I’ve also had several people point out proof-reading errors that I will correct and publish in future editions of the Ted Higuera books. Most of all, I get praise from people who have been to the locations I write about. I also get a lot of questions. Why did Ted do this? Was Chris really thinking about that? I’d love to hear your thoughts and I promise to answer each one of your emails.

  You can contact me from my web site, www.pennwallace.com, using the Contact Penn tab.

  As Dean Martin used to say (am I giving away my age here?), “Keep those cards and letters coming in.”

  Pendelton C. Wallace

  August 19th, 2016

  Bocas del Toro, Panama

  Coming Soon . . .

  I hope you like Cat Flaherty as much as I do. In case you don’t know, Cat has spun off her own series. The cast of characters is largely the same as Ted’s series, but the focus is on Cat.

  The first story in the series, Mirror Image, is a short story based on a horrific crime. The second book, Murder Strikes Twice, is a novella that is also based on a real-life story.

  The third book in the series, that I’m tentatively calling The China Town Murders, is a full length novel. Like all of my other stories, it is based on a true story. Hey folks, I can’t make this stuff up. All I need to do for story ideas is to read the headlines.

  Catrina is up to her ears in rape and murder.

  Someone is raping women working at message parlors in China Town. He selects his victims because they are undocumented aliens. They can’t go to the police or they risk deportation.

  Who do you call when you can’t go to the police?

  You call Cat Flaherty.

  But Cat is also in love. Has she finally found her perfect match?

  And Chris has his hands full with his first murder case. Ted’s little brother, Carlito, is framed by an old nemesis and Chris must find the truth.

  With a shock ending that you’ll never predict, the latest Cartrina Flaherty novel is a page burner.

  The China Town Murders

  The Catrina Flaherty Mysteries Book 3

  By

  Pendelton C. Wallace

  The China Town Murders

  The International District fits into Seattle’s jig saw puzzle of neighborhoods on the south end of town. Just east of the Sodo district with its new ball parks, fancy restaurants and pricy condos, the International District, often referred to as China Town, smells of decay and reeks of fish and rotting vegetables. This was a perfect hunting ground.

  The rented Toyota cruised down King Street, the driver looking for a location he hadn’t used before.

  The streets were crowded with people of every conceivable ethnic origin, but mostly Asians. Groups of young girls in tight-fitting cocktail dresses flitted from club to club, chattering like flocks of birds. Young men in black jeans and leather jackets hung out on corners and in front of cheap bars. White couples wandered, open-eyed, oblivious to the rhythm of the neighborhood. Older Asians walked in couples down the streets, eyes fixed ahead, minding their own business.

  The Toyota’s driver liked it that way. No one poked their noses into anyone else’s business down here.

  He found the business he was looking for. By some great miracle of God, there was a parking space just around the corner. Parking in China Town was all but impossible to find. He didn’t want to leave any trace of his visit by parking on any of the streets that required buying a pass from a kiosk with a credit card.

  The man got out of the car and locked the door. No sense letting any of these chinks mess up the car.

  The yellow backlit sign above the door simply read “Massages.”

  He smiled to himself. This was it! His favorite game, his favorite release.<
br />
  Work had been a problem lately, toss in his strong-willed girlfriend and you had a recipe for trouble . . .

  And he was just the guy to bring it. He always had things his way. From his earliest memories he was able to manipulate any situation to his best advantage.

  A bell above the door tinkled as he slipped in. He felt like Gulliver in a room full of Lilliputian Chinese women.

  The girls sat around the lounge reading Chinese magazines. He couldn’t read a word of the content, but the pictures reminded him of People or Us magazines.

  “I help you?” a handsome middle aged woman asked.

  “I’d like a massage,” he replied, eyeing the girls one at a time, noting their pros and cons.

  This one had thick hips and thighs, that one was too old. All of them were flat chested, but that was okay. He expected that from Chinese women.

  He liked their doll-like tininess. He felt like he was playing with some porcelain mannequin made just for his pleasure.

  “You rike girl?” the older woman asked as his gazed settled upon a miniscule young woman. “She no speak much Engrish yet.”

  “That’s okay. I don’t want to talk with her. She’ll do.”

  She couldn’t have been five feet tall. Dressed in a white smock and matching trousers like all the other women, her skin looked like ivory. Dark brown eyes stared out over fire-engine red lip stick. Her shiny black hair hung almost to her waist.

  The lady said something in Chinese and the tiny girl put down her magazine and ran to the counter.

  A few more words of unintelligible conversation and the Lady of the House handed the girl a key.

  “You go room three. It best in house.”

  The man nodded and took the key.

  The young woman took him by the hand and led him down the hallway.

  “My . . . name . . . Lin Ching,” the girl said.

  “Hi Lin,” the man said as he unlocked the door.

  The room was better than he expected. The walls were painted in bright red with gold trim. The dark hardwood floors gleamed from frequent waxing, covered in the middle with a red hand-woven carpet. A golden colored Buddha sat on a black lacquered table in one corner, in the opposite corner a three-sided bamboo table held a vase of tulips. The massage table filled most of the center of the room. Ocean sounds played through the speakers high on the walls.

  “You dis . . . dis . . . dislobe? I be back.” Lin stepped out of the room.

  The man removed his blazer and carefully folded it over a chair back. His shirt, trousers and underwear soon followed. Removing his socks, he stood and stretched himself to his full height.

  He loved the moment before the hunt. He considered himself a bull of a man. His cock wasn’t that extraordinary, but his balls would fill a gallon jug. He loved to feel them swing freely between his legs.

  The tingle started in his nuts and worked its way up his dick. This is going to be good.

  Lin returned to the room carrying warm towels and bottles of oil.

  “On no,” she cautioned. “You lay on bed. I cover.”

  The man smiled and took a step towards her. He put his hands on her shoulders and felt himself swell. “No, I think you get undressed first,” he said.

  ”No, no. Boss no like.”

  “I don’t care what the Boss likes.” He unbuttoned the top of her smock.

  She pushed his hands away. “No! I say no! Boss fire me, I have sex with client.”

  He laughed.

  She slapped at his hands. He grabbed a handful of the luxurious black hair.

  “You’ll do what I say, when I say it.” He shoved her into the wall. “Do you understand?”

  “No,” she screamed and ran for the door.

  He slid his foot against the door.

  “You know you want it.”

  She pulled at his leg with both hands to free the door.

  “I’m going to tame you, you little chink cunt.” He backhanded her with all of his strength.

  She flew across the small room and crashed into the bamboo table. The vase shattered on her head.

  The man grabbed her hair and lifted her to her feet. “Maybe now, Goddamn it, you’ll do what I say.”

  ****

  The 4th of July was organized chaos around Lake Union. People parked their cars a day or two in advance to assure that they had access to Gas Works Park. As darkness neared around 10 pm, families whose children were usually long since in bed trudged for blocks carrying lawn chairs and coolers towards the park on the Lake’s north shore. Fireworks would soon erupt from a barge anchored in the center of the lake in the heart of the city.

  Catrina Flaherty pulled her rented Mazda CX-7 into the parking lot at El Nuevo Chaparral restaurant on the hill above the lake, Nuevo Chaparral had an unparalleled view of the goings on. This was going to be one hell of a party.

  A young man in a black vest and red bow-tie raised his hands to stop Catrina’s progress.

  “This is a private party tonight, ma’am. Do you have an invitation?”

  Catrina smiled and showed him the card that her partner, Ted Higuera, dropped off at her desk yesterday.

  “Okay, park to the left there,” the young man gestured. “And have a good night. The fireworks should be starting shortly.”

  Catrina stepped out of her car and pulled her dress down. She knew she was an attractive woman, even for an old lady like me, but usually didn’t like to dress up. This was a special occasion. Hope was returning to work today and they had a special surprise for Higuera.

  Her eyes moistened when she thought about Hope, Higuera’s little sister and proprietress of Seattle’s hottest Mexican restaurant.

  Hope had gone to Mexico with Chris Hardwick, Higuera’s best friend, and her to help Ted find his missing fiancée. What had started out as a search and rescue mission had ended up in an all-out war with the Baja drug cartel.

  When Hope was wounded in a drive-by shooting, Catrina felt it was her fault. She thought Hope was dead and went on a bender from which only Ted’s tough love saved her. She owed Teddy and the whole Higuera family, and Catrina never filched on a debit.

  Catrina bent down to check her make up in the Mazda’s side mirror. She usually only wore light makeup. Tonight she felt like the whore of Babylon. Every now and then even a middle-aged woman should feel sexy.

  Her tight fitting gold sequined cocktail dress showed off her ample bosom and a lot of leg. She always thought her long, well-muscled legs were her best feature. Okay, so she packed on an extra twenty pounds since her Barbie days, but her five foot nine inch frame carried them comfortably.

  Her Swedish heritage showed through with her short blonde hair, high cheek bones and steel gray eyes. She could be one of the Valkyrie coming to earth to claim a dead hero.

  El Nuevo Chaparral reminded Catrina of a chapel Ted had shown her outside of Mexico City. With pink stucco walls, red tile roof and a dome in the center of the L-shaped building she could easily be back south of the border.

  Entering the carved oak doorway, the bar was off to her right. The tables in the restaurant to her left were mostly empty.

  “Cat, can I get you a drink?” asked the pretty young Mexican girl in a low cut peasant top and very short multi-colored skirt.

  “Hi, Maria. Thanks, you know, the usual,” Catrina replied.

  Swarms of people swarmed the bar and spilled out onto the deck overlooking the lake. Hope had cultivated an exclusive clientele for her beanery and Catrina looked over the crowd to see scores of familiar faces.

  It was easy to pick out Ted’s football buddies. They towered over the rest of the people. The Seahawks gorgeous quarter back had his equally fabulous model fiancée on his arm. She was great eye-candy, but the lady had a brain as well.

  A normal sized man, the quarterback was almost swallowed up by giants Catrina knew to be offensive linemen. Some played for the ‘Hawks, one for Pittsburg, one for New Orleans. These were the guys that opened holes in the line for Ted when
he played tailback for the Huskies.

  Her radar on high, she sighted Seattle’s leading coffee baron talking with two nerdy looking middle aged men.

  Those three are worth more than most countries, she thought.

  Leaning against the rail on the deck, an attractive petite woman with short brown hair talked to the CEO of the world’s largest on-line retailer.

  Alison Clarke.

  Alison was the CEO of the world’s largest computer manufacturer, Millennium Systems. Catrina and Ted did a job for her years ago and she had forged a bond with Ted that Catrina didn’t really understand. They were both computer nerds, of course, but Alison was one of the world’s most successful women. She was in a solid marriage with children, but her tastes ran more to the feminine side.

  A small smile curled Catrina’s lips. I coulda had me some of that. Alison had once tried to seduce Catrina, but Catrina didn’t play for that team.

  “Oh, Cat,” Alison turned from her chat with the on-line entrepreneur. “I’m so glad you’re here. Is Ted with you?”

  “No, he and Chris are picking Hope up and bringing her here. I didn’t want to be a third wheel.”

  “Damas y caballeros, ladies and gentlemen. May I have your attention please?” Jorge Melendez was Hope’s manager and did an excellent job of keeping the restaurant running in her absence. “As you know, in addition to having a lot of fun here tonight, El Nuevo Chaparral is donating all proceeds to a charity. This year, our selected charity is Northwest Second Harvest.”

  A round of applause broke out in the crowd.

  Get ‘em drunk enough and they’ll cheer for anything.

  Catrina knew that tickets for tonight’s affair were a thousand bucks apiece. Good thing she had an in with the owners. She had no shortage of money, her sexual harassment suit against the Port of Seattle Police Department had left her set up for life, but she stilled lived by her families values of thrift. With a cop for a father, a stay at home mom and five older brothers, money was always tight in their family.