Tuesday, July 05, 2005

David Aguilar turned away from watching his daughter's soccer game to pull the vibrating cell phone out of his pocket. Only five people had this number and in another week it would change.

"Yeah."

"We have a problem."

"Local?"

"No, second street. 1530."

"O.K."

Carlos and David had phone codes to duck the feds and the dopers using scanners. David had a cousin in Phoenix who got phones for him every month. Untraceable throwaways. If the department ever found out he'd get suspended or fired. It beat the alternative of being shot. Second street meant the meeting place in Bisbee. Fifteen thirty meant Eight PM. Add the three to fifteen for military time. The place and that time of night meant that it was pretty serious.

Carlos showed up right on time.

"What's up?"

"You know that Alcocer kid that got popped with the load at the port?"

"Yeah?"

"He's dead. Tied up, tortured."

"Jesus Christ. That was Andy's case. He was talking like the kid was gonna roll. Did you see the scene?"

"Yeah, I got pictures. Looks like work out of Juarez. There were two bodies. I don't know who the other kid was. Some white kid. Both were tied up. Looked like the white kid was just shot outright. Maybe in front of the Alcocer kid."

"When will the photos be ready?"

"In the morning. My man is going to print them tonight."

"Did anybody else show up at the scene?"

"Robledo and Alcaraz and two guys, looked like Mexico City guys."

"How can you tell that?"

"Too much grease in the hair for this area."

"Something's up. Think the two are related?"

"No, these guys were probably along for the ride on this killing. Maybe a plane coming in. At least that's what I hope. We don't need this shit staying around for long."

"Hell no. Call me at the office when they decide to send the bodies across."

"You got it."





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