Winning Texas (12 page)

Krause had sought out Jarvis
’
s advice more than a decade ago after acquiring his first Texas Girls club. He
’
d gone down to Laredo to visit Jarvis
’
s Triple-X Clubs and adopted some profitable practices, including bringing in live bands on weekends and offering a premium menu to attract a higher class of customers. When Jarvis confided a few years ago that he was unloading a few clubs, Krause bought two, glad to get a foothold in South Texas. By then, the Laredo entrepreneur was pushing seventy, had met the love of his life and wanted to spend his declining years with his beautiful Salvadoran dancer. Daria del Fuego, now in her late thirties, remarkably had reciprocated his affection. They
’
d married and moved to the ranch.

“
Welcome to Paradise,
”
Jarvis said.

“
Thanks, guy,
”
Krause said, squeezing his liver-spotted hand.
“
Great place. All you need is some Longhorns.
”

“
Got me a half-dozen of those babies. We
’
ll drive out to the pasture to see them later.
”

Krause thought his friend looked more ancient and cadaverous than ever. Jarvis had always reminded him of a sad mortician until something struck him as funny. Then he
’
d erupt in maniacal laughter that went on a shade too long for Krause
’
s comfort.

The interior of the ranch
’
s house was almost as plain as the exterior, with a motley collection of furniture that looked like somebody threw it in with the sale of the property. But Krause was surprised to see that the landscape outside the back door was fancy. The newly constructed patio area was paved in multi-colored stone with an outdoor kitchen. A large, custom-built pool included a float-up, thatched bar at one end and several lanes for swimming laps at the other. A sprinkler system nourished palm trees, red-flowering plants and St. Augustine grass, the only variety hardy enough to flourish in the torrid climate.

“
Fantastic patio,
”
Krause said, settling into a shaded chair.
“
Never pictured you as the sort of guy who
’
d hang out by the pool. Must be Daria
’
s idea, right?
”

“
Yeah, that girl loves her swimming and grilling. Whatever Daria loves, Daria gets.
”

As if on cue, his wife opened the back door, carrying a tray of beers and snacks. Through her lacy black cover-up, Krause could see a white bikini on Daria
’
s well-toned body. But he knew not to look for long, because Jarvis could turn jealous.

“
Hola, Kyle,
”
she said, extending her cheek for a kiss.
“
Thank you for coming to pick up my women. Juliana will like them.
”

“
Where are they?
”

“
Enjoying dinner and TV in the guest house,
”
she said.
“
That
’
s where our visitors stay, so that no one will see them. They
’
re recovering from their long journey.
”

Daria
’
s family in El Salvador ran a high-end coyote business, bringing mostly women up through Mexico and into Texas. When women came to Daria, she would find places for them, mostly in the topless clubs or restaurants in South Texas. More recently, she had placed a select few at Juliana
’
s ranch.

“
You
’
ll meet them tomorrow morning,
”
she said.
“
I have explained Juliana
’
s business to them. They are eager to join her for a year, or however long their services are required. They want to make money to bring their children and relatives to Texas. When they complete their deal, she will pay them $1,000 each. She has already given me their transportation fees.
”

“
All that
’
s between you and Juliana,
”
Krause said.
“
I
’
m just taking them to the ranch.
”

She nodded and the three of them chatted until dinner was served. After a meal of roasted fish with black beans and rice, Daria brought liquors and cigars and said good night.

Krause and Spud talked about their businesses for a while, but the conversation took a more philosophical turn as the light dimmed into a quiet starlit sky.

“
This is a damned fine piece of Texas,
”
Spud said, puffing on a particularly odoriferous cigar.
“
But it
’
s getting ruined like everything else.
”

“
What
’
s getting ruined? Laredo, Texas, the United States or the world?
”

“
All of the above, though I mainly meant Texas,
”
Spud said.
“
A man can
’
t create anything great like we did. Too much interference by government bureaucrats.
”

“
You sound like those secessionists,
”
Krause said.
“
Don
’
t tell me you
’
ve joined the Nation of Texas.
”

“
Them folks had the right idea, but messed up everything with that stupid shootout. Got themselves in a peck of trouble that will never be put right.
”

Krause smiled and leaned forward, emboldened by the brandy.
“
I just joined a group in the Hill Country that has a better idea. They
’
re going to turn the Hill Country into German Texas.
”

“
German Texas? What the hell is that?
”

“
You know the Hill Country is the prettiest part of Texas,
”
Krause said.
“
But it
’
s always been underdeveloped.
”

“
That
’
s true. Never been any good clubs up there,
”
Spud said.
“
Probably have more cows than girls.
”

“
That
’
s going to change,
”
Krause said.
“
If we get our way, we can make it a huge tourist attraction
–
kind of like a Vegas in Texas.
”

Spud reacted with one of his odd outbursts. His entire body shook with soundless paroxysms, followed by cascades of braying laughter. Krause found it irritating and kind of scary, but didn
’
t say anything.

“
Are you smoking the peyote again?
”
Jarvis said.
“
Vegas in Texas ain
’
t going to happen.
”

“
It
’
ll be better than Vegas,
”
Krause said.
“
You
’
ll see. You and I could go together and create something big. Clubs, gambling ranches, all kinds of German-themed stuff will be up for grabs.
”

“
Do your German-Texas buddies know about your Vegas dreams? Bet they
’
re counting on cute little Alpine villages, not strip clubs.
”

“
Maybe, but they
’
ll see it my way,
”
Krause said.
“
Money talks.
”

Jarvis leaned back in his chair, puffed on his cigar and looked at the stars. Krause thought he
’
d gone to sleep before he finally spoke.

“
You
’
re still young enough for big dreams. But I
’
ll stay here and enjoy my piece of Texas until it
’
s spoilt.
”

CHAPTER 11

The next morning, Krause left early after packing the three Salvadoran women and their sparse belongings into the SUV. The women seemed in good spirits, preferring to sit together in back and talk. That was fine with him, because he never had much to say to strangers, even less if he had to speak in another language. Like most Texans, he spoke some Spanish, but the women
’
s rapid-fire conversation daunted him.

He was relieved to find that the women, introduced as Angela, Sara and Isabel, were older, perhaps in their mid- to late twenties or early thirties. They looked more Spanish than Indian, with light skin, nice faces and well-padded bodies. As Daria had observed, Juliana would applaud her choices. He couldn
’
t remember their last names, but knew that Angela and Isabel were sisters and Sara their cousin. Perhaps because they were older, they seemed more at ease with themselves than the young, high-strung women who auditioned at his clubs. He was glad Daria had talked to them about the workings of the ranch because he didn
’
t want to have to explain anything
–
in English or Spanish.

The morning passed quickly and Krause pulled into a rest stop for lunch. The women looked pleased when they saw the voluminous basket of food Daria had packed. He took out the sandwiches, drinks and cookies and everyone picked out what they wanted and ate in contented silence. They piled back into the car and lapsed into an afternoon torpor. Krause drove steadily and by mid-afternoon, he
’
d reached the guard gate of his ranch. He spoke briefly to the man on duty and drove inside.

Something about the place, which they
’
d called Krause Ranch in the absence of a clever name, had always made him uneasy. He couldn
’
t quite put his finger on it, but the ranch had never felt welcoming. Perhaps he and Juliana had snapped up the densely wooded property too quickly. It had been listed at a good price, but he wondered now if the previous owners had just been in a hurry to get rid of it. The trees and heavy underbrush were thick and gloomy, especially after Juliana had installed fencing and barbed wire. He didn
’
t much care for the people Juliana had hired either, especially Maria Espinosa, the part-time director who worked when Juliana couldn
’
t be there. Espinosa, a heavyset Hispanic with a broad forehead and grayish skin tones, came up to meet them. She looked and acted like a prison matron.

The modest assortment of one-story buildings looked as innocent as a summer camp, but Krause could sense that the Salvadorans also felt the odd chill of the place. They
’
d stopped talking and all three seemed reluctant to gather their belongings. He wanted them to hurry up so that he could leave, but he tried to hide his eagerness to get away. The three women stood together, as if supporting each other from unseen dangers. He introduced them to Espinosa in his limited Spanish and handed her a stack of paperwork Daria had sent. Espinosa began talking with them in Spanish and they nodded in comprehension. He smiled, waved, got back in the SUV and drove without stopping through the guard gate. He felt sorry for the women who watched him drive off, but after all, they
’
d known what they were signing up for when they agreed to come to the ranch.

After a few minutes on the open road, he was breathing easier. For the first time all day he relaxed. He deserved his treat, so he headed toward San Antonio.

Six years ago, he
’
d built his first Texas Gas Emporium off I-10 outside the Alamo City and had been astounded by its immediate success. It was his iteration of the gigantic places that had sprung up in recent years to attract hordes of gas-guzzling motorists and truckers. The emporium boasted twenty-five gas pumps and a glittering convenience store that offered everything from warmed-up hotdogs and burritos to Mexican pottery and flavored condoms. There was an ice-cream counter and a game room to entertain the kids and a motel behind the convenience store where truckers could rent showers, rooms and if they went about it discreetly, women. Krause
’
s business concept was designed to fill every need of the modern road warrior.

When Juliana joined him in Houston, she
’
d been so impressed with the Texas Gas Emporium and its profits that he
’
d built three others, one off I-10 near Beaumont and two off I-20 near Dallas and west to Odessa. But since she didn
’
t particularly care about cars, gas or truckers, she didn
’
t interfere in the management of those businesses. So he used them as an excuse to get out of Houston and to skim off money to stash in a secret account. He thought about his growing funds with satisfaction. He wasn
’
t about to ask Juliana
’
s permission for all of his purchases.