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Felipe drove to his large, stucco house on the dead-end road at the edge of town. It was isolated, quiet, with ancient tamarisk trees forming a green privacy border around the perimeter. He parked and slowly made his way to the front door. Inside, Felipe leaned against the door to catch his breath. He made it to the bedroom, where he removed his boots, sweating and groaning with every exertion. He collapsed face down on the big four-poster bed. Amost immediately the phone rang and Godoy groaned as he reached to lift the receiver. He listened for several minutes, then said, “Call the Barbosas. Tell them,” then he hung up. A sharp, stabbing pain shot through his entrails when he turned on his side. He curled into a fetal ball while holding a pillow to his chest.
***
Bobby thought about it as he drove into Ojinaga. Godoy had no reason to go after him that he could think of, but it had happened all the same. He would have to keep his eyes and ears open if he was going to keep operating. A thought came, and he turned the truck southwest, toward the mountains and Outlaw Road.
Bobby was there in thirty minutes, and he parked in front of Mingo Cruz’s cantina, El Longbranch. Mingo was inside, sitting at a table and reading a paperback by Elmore Leonard about Cuba. No one else was in the room and Mingo pointed to the chair across the table.
“The ambiance was too good, you couldn’t stay away?”
“There’s some stuff going on and I thought you might be able to help me on it. ”
“Like what?”
“You know Colonel Felipe Godoy?”
“Everybody in Chihuahua knows the Angel. What you got going with him?”
“Nothing. But he’s got something going with me. He tried to jump me, by himself, less than an hour ago.”
Mingo looked at him, “Not to shoot you, or you wouldn’t be here. He tried to beat you up?”
“With a pipe.”
“Why didn’t he have his men do it? That’s what he usually does.”
“I don’t know, but I was thinking the same thing. What I figure, he wants to keep it quiet, what he’s doing. Nothing else makes sense.”
“What’d you do to make him come after you?”
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“That’s just it. I don’t know. I’ve been making it a point not to get crossways.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“See what you can find out. I have some work tonight, but I’ll come by tomorrow, say noon.”
“That’s pretty quick, but I’ll see what I can do.”
“Good. Here’s a hundred for your trouble.”
Mingo pushed the bill back across the table. “I get something good, you can pay me.”
“All right.” Bobby got up to leave, “I got a few more people to talk to.”
“Manana, then.”
“Manana.”
Bobby returned to town and made several phone calls. He met with a Lieutenant on the city Police and asked him what he’d heard. The officer said he knew nothing, but would ask around. Bobby paid him the usual monthly amount, then left to get something to drink.
At 9PM, Bobby was in Marfa, waiting at the convenience store on U.S. 90 when he saw the big semi turn south toward Presidio. He smiled, paid the clerk for the Coke and got in his Toyota, revving the engine and getting out fast to catch up. He pulled ahead of the semi and cut his lights off and on once. The truck answered the same. Bobby then cut his off and on twice. The truck cut his off and on once. Bobby smiled again and led the truck south. An hour and a half later, he stopped at a locked ranch gate above Presidio and waited for the semi. It pulled in and Bobby hopped on the driver’s side running board.
Bobby said, “Take this main road for a couple miles. It’ll come to a Y, and you take the left one, to the river. The Rio’s down that road about a mile. Give me about an hour to get around to the other side and I’ll flash you from there. Any questions?”
The driver said, “And you got people who’ll unload and drive the stuff across, that right?”
“Yeah. All you have to do is get to the river.”
