Chapter 5: Meeting with the Rio Bravo Cartel

I left the house early Tuesday morning. I had a two hour flight to the city where Jose Gomez’s attorney was located. I had taken off work that day and had told Sue I was hosting an important meeting and would be home late tonight.

His office was impressive. The name on the door read “Steven Judd, Esquire. Attorney at Law”. An egotistical asshole I imagine. I walked in and was shown directly into his office.

“Mr. Shaw, how can I help you?”

“Mr. Judd it is I that can help you.”

“Please have a seat.”

“I’ll get right to the point. I have information that will help you with the appeal in the Jose Gomez case.” I hand him a thumb drive. He looks at it then plugs it into his computer. After about ten minutes he asks where I got what he was looking at on his screen.

“That particular gun range stores all its video in the cloud. It seems you are interested in doing business?”

“Yes I am. But the other matter? You know where this particular witness can be found?”

“Yes I do. But I want some...”

“Stop. Will you please wait in the lobby for a few minutes? I have to confer with an associate of mine.”

I got up and sat in the lobby. Fifteen minutes later his door opens and out walks a beautiful Mexican lady. She was not in the office when I was there so she must have come in through another door.

“Hello Mr. Shaw. I am Maria. Why don’t I take you to lunch?” I stammer out an “OK”. Rather loudly I think. Then this Judd guy says, “Good, well there will be no need for you to contact this office in the future. Maria will take good care of you. Thank you Mr. Shaw and I am sorry this office could not help you.”

Maria took my arm and we walked out to the elevators.

“Don’t worry, as Jose’s attorney he wants to keep his knowledge of anything to a minimum. Attorneys, I hate them.”

We took the elevator to the parking garage. There she walked towards a man standing beside a big Lincoln town car. It was black with blacked out windows. When this guy opens the door I notice the insides are black leather. This car should have one of those bumper stickers. You know the one I am talking about. “Mafia staff car. You touch I break your face.”

Her chauffer opens the door and she slides in and scoots over. She patted the seat and asked, “Are you coming?”

I jumped in next to her. In for a penny in for a pound, ran thru my mind.

I could not take my eyes off this beauty. Long black hair down to the middle of her back, dark, almost black eyes. She was wearing a white blouse that was form fitting and straining to cover a set of breasts that must be 36-D. Her black tight skirt had rode up to reveal the tops of her hose and the lacy garter that held them in place. She turned in the seat to face me.

“Louis take us to Mama Torres. I hope you like Mexican food.”

“Of course.” I was at a loss for words. All the problems I had with talking to girls, my shyness my not wanting to talk was back. This woman was a princess, a beautiful Latin princess. She was white not dark skinned but you could tell she was a Latina. I could not take my eyes off her. The silence was getting awkward so I started to open my mouth to speak.

She took my hand and looked me in the eye. “Wait until we get to the restaurant. There we will have more privacy, I saw what was on the thumb drive.”

No more was said until we arrived at the restaurant. I could not take my eyes off those stockinged legs or the cleavage her blouse showed.