You Can Run but You Can't Hide (42 page)

along.

Leland noticed Luster was walking to his car by himself. We all

ducked down behind the SUV. I was the only person in the group

Luster could have recognized. Leland and Tim weren’t well-known

faces yet, like they are today.

When Luster got into his car, we followed close behind, staying

back just far enough so he couldn’t see us.

“Dad, pull over. He’s stopping at a taco stand.” Luster stood on

the street eating a taco without a care in the world. He had no idea

I was on his ass.

That was the first time I saw Luster with my own two eyes. I rec-

ognized every inch of him. “Oh, my God. It’s him.” I was frozen.

Stuck in the moment. Fear and pure exhilaration flowed through

my veins.

“I’m going first. Tim, you come right behind me. Leland, when

I attack, you go.” I looked over at Filiberto to get his signal that it

was a “go.” He nodded his head.

When I popped up, I scared the crap out of that boy. He tried to

bolt, but Tim wrapped his arms around Luster’s neck. I tackled

Yo u Ca n ’ t H i d e

259

him at the waist while Leland grabbed him in the leg. We all went

down.

I heard a thunderous noise, like a stampede of wild horses. It

was the sound of Luster’s bodyguards trying to get close. It was too

late. I cuffed him, stood up, and said, “You are under arrest in the

name of the United States government and Mexico!”

After I wrestled Luster to the ground, I was surprised to see Mona

run up and scream at him. “You raped me, you son of a bitch.”

The boys and I looked at one another in utter disbelief. I always

knew Mona had done more with Luster than party. I could tell by

the way she spoke to him on the phone that the relationship had

been intimate. But I never thought Luster raped her. Frankly, she

didn’t fit the stereotype, so it never occurred to me.

While Luster was on the ground, I said, “Give me your cell

phone.” I started looking at the numbers. When I asked him about

the first number I saw, he said, “It’s my mommy’s.” That woman

lied to me every time we spoke, telling me she never talked to her

son. I threw his phone in the bushes. He didn’t deserve to have the

option of making phone calls.

When I put him in the car, Filiberto was on one side, I was on

the other. There was a police station one block away. Leland ran

ahead and knocked on the door, but it was closed! While we waited

for Leland, Min opened the door, and grabbed Luster by the hair.

He pulled his head back and tried to force water down his throat

from a bottle.

“Min, what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m going to GHB the son of a bitch just like he did my wife!”

He slapped my arm in an attempt to get me to let go of my

stronghold on Luster. I looked at Tim and said, “This prick just

slapped me.” Tim opened the car door. I reached over the prisoner

with my booted foot and kicked Min out of the car onto the ground.

I watched him run toward a policeman. That’s the last I saw of him.

Filiberto said he knew where there was another police station.

“It’s only a couple of miles away, but it is open twenty-four hours.”

I could see flashing lights ahead.

I called Beth. I wanted her to be the first to know the good news.

Normally I say to her, “Who’s the greatest bounty hunter in the

world?”

She always responds, “You are, Big Daddy.”

260

Yo u Ca n R u n , b u t Yo u Ca n ’ t H i d e

For whatever reason, this time all I could muster were the words,

“We got him, honey. I got Luster.” She was screaming and crying

and carrying on with pure joy.

I put the phone up to Luster’s mouth. “Say hello to my wife.”

“No.” Luster was in no mood to comply with my requests.

“That’s not very nice, you prick.”

Tim was driving the SUV down the narrow Mexican streets as

Filiberto guided him toward the police station. We kept sideswiping

cars, setting off alarms.

“Drive toward the lights, Tim.” I was still on the phone with

Beth.

I said, “You can have that new house, honey. You can have it.”

Beth was yelling, “I’ve got my house, I’ve got my house. Woo hoo!”

She was overjoyed. We had seen a house we loved in Hawaii, but it

was too much money. I promised Beth,
when
I caught Luster, she

could buy that house. We used to drive by every weekend, dreaming

of someday living in our island paradise. Now that I’d caught him,

we’d have the money to fulfill that dream.

I could see a roadblock in the distance. Tim pulled over. I no-

ticed they let Filiberto pass through, so I thought it couldn’t be for

us. Next thing I knew, there were Mexican policemen holding ma-

chine guns all around us.

“Freeze, motherfuckers. Get out of the car.”

I didn’t want to move.

I tried to explain that I was Dog Chapman and that I had An-

drew Stuart Luster in the car. I agreed to send Leland and Boris out,

but I was staying put with Luster. I was never letting him go. Surely

the police would understand.

Nope. The officer ordered me to get out. I finally agreed.

“What’s your name?”

“Dog Chapman.”

The officer looked at Luster. “What’s your name?”

“David Carrera.” He said it with the straightest face, as if that

were really his name!

“That’s bull!” I tried to explain the situation to the officer, but

Luster began speaking Spanish, really fast, so fast I only caught

every third word. The cop looked at me and shook his head in affir-

mation of what Luster was saying.

Luster said, “Those guys have been following me around for days

Yo u Ca n ’ t H i d e

261

plotting to kidnap me. I’m a very rich man!” His face was turning red

from pleading to the cops that
he
was the victim.

This couldn’t be good. They started to uncuff him.

“Wait! Stop! He’s a criminal wanted by the United States gov-

ernment for rape. Look in my car. All the information is there.” I

pleaded with the cops to hear me out. They took my binder of ma-

terial on Luster out of the car. They said they had to verify the

story. They told me they wanted to be certain the man I had in cus-

tody was Andrew Luster.

“Come to the station. We’re not arresting you. We just want to

check out your story.”

I turned to Filiberto. “Are you going to come with us?” Despite

the cop’s denial, I assumed we were going to jail. Filiberto said he

would be right behind us.

C h a p t e r F o r t y - n i n e

MEXICAN PRISON

I had walked
out of the Texas State Penitentiary almost a

quarter century ago. I promised God I would never go back to jail.

From the moment I left Huntsville, I dedicated myself to living

a good clean life. No more crimes. My number-one purpose as a

bounty hunter has been to serve truth and justice. I swore I would

never hear the sound of the steel door slam shut and lock behind me

again. Now, here I was, sitting in a Mexican prison, with thin steel

bars between me and freedom. The smell was all too familiar. I

looked around, trying to assess my situation. I was stunned by the

chipping green paint that half-covered the stone walls. It was the

same green paint as in Huntsville. My heart ached from the thought

of being back in hell. And I was scared, too. I wasn’t afraid of being

in prison. No. This time I was afraid of the ramifications.

I looked at my son, my friends. These guys didn’t belong here.

They’re good men. Righteous men. Hell, Boris and Jeff weren’t

even bounty hunters. They were just along for the ride. I feared I

had lost everything. My family, my business, and now, it appeared,

my freedom was at risk too.

For whatever reason, the Mexican cops seemed to be tougher on

Leland than they were on the rest of us that night. Perhaps it was be-

cause he is my son. Or maybe it was because he was the smallest guy

in the group. I watched helplessly as Leland got punched and kicked

by the cops who brought us in. He’s a tough kid, but no good father

M e x i c a n P r i s o n

263

wants to see his son hurt—not ever, and most definitely not in a

Mexican prison.

Tim, Leland, Boris, Jeff, and I were packed into the same tiny

cell. For a moment, we all smiled and relished the victory of cap-

turing Luster. It wasn’t just me who poured blood, sweat, and tears

into the chase. All of these men put their lives on the line. I don’t re-

member who said it first, but one of the guys let out a shout. “We

did it! We got that bastard!” And we had it all on tape too.

We watched as the Mexican police paraded Luster past our cell.

He was going down. He would definitely be sent back to the United

States to serve out his hefty sentence. We might be in prison, but

each of us knew we would eventually get out. Luster was going to

jail for the rest of his life. That alone made us all feel good about

what we had done.

The boys and I recounted the week’s events as we waited to be

set free. Of course, I wasn’t sure that was going to happen, but I

hoped it would. Filiberto was there to verify our story. Truth and

justice always prevails.

Well, not always. And, as I would soon discover,
definitely
not in

Mexico.

Not long after we arrived, Filiberto came to the jail like he

promised. He was in the room when the police were running Lus-

ter’s warrant. The cop blurted out that Luster’s bond was ten mil-

lion dollars. It’s true, when Luster first went to jail, his bond was

ten million, but the judge later reduced it to one million.

“Filiberto. Wait. You don’t understand. That was in the begin-

ning. That number isn’t right.” I pleaded with him. He thought I

was trying to rip him off by telling him the bond was only a million.

“Fuck you. I want more money.”

“Wait . . .” He wouldn’t listen.

Filiberto turned to leave. He stopped, looked back, and said,

“Let’s see how you feel about this in the morning,” and then walked

away. He left us sitting in a Mexican prison. Just like that, Filiberto,

my alibi, my compadre, my safety net—in a second, he was gone.

A couple of hours later, the cop came to tell us he was able to

verify our story and that the man we caught was in fact, Andrew

Stuart Luster.

Duh. Big surprise.

And then they began to book us.

264

Yo u Ca n R u n , b u t Yo u Ca n ’ t H i d e

When the cops came to the cell, I was hoping they were there to

let us out. They were not.

“Wait, what are you doing?” I had no idea why I was being

booked.

“We want to make sure you get to see the judge.”

Judge? This wasn’t part of the plan. Why did I need to see a

judge? I started to hear some rumblings about kidnapping charges.

I didn’t get confirmation of that until the next day when a woman

from the American consulate paid us a visit.

“I’m in a big hurry, so I don’t have a lot of time to talk. Here’s the

deal. You’re being charged with kidnapping. You should know better

than to come down to Mexico and grab someone.” Her attitude was

snippy, cold, abrasive, and dismissive. This lady was one cold bitch.

“Wait a minute. I had a Mexican cop with me,” I said.

“You shouldn’t have done that. Now I can’t help you. Look, you

need to get a lawyer who can advise you. Until you speak with him,

I wouldn’t say another word. Kidnapping is a twenty-year sentence

in Mexico, Mr. Chapman.”

I was nauseous at the thought that we all could go down for

twenty years for capturing a rapist. I had to stop myself from get-

ting physically sick. I didn’t want to frighten the others. A group is

only as strong as their leader. I had to be tough so no one else fell

apart. It wasn’t out of the question for Boris or Jeff to cut a deal

and throw us to the wolves. We needed to stay united.

By noon the following day, several Mexican cops and what ap-

peared to be FBI agents were filing past our cell, paying Luster nu-

merous visits. By now, word had spread that Andrew Luster had

been caught. I wasn’t sure what the American news was reporting,

but I could see that media people were beginning to arrive in droves.

Later that afternoon, a Mexican cop came to our cell with a

photographer. He opened the cell door.

“We need to get a picture, gringo.”

I said, “No way. No pictures, hombre.”

“
Señor Perro,
you don’t understand. Didn’t you hear the good

news? You’re going home. We just need one picture of all of you.”

Did he say we’re going home? We were ecstatic at the thought,

so the boys and I huddled together, hugging and smiling for the

camera because we were relieved and overcome with joy. We were

happy as hell to be leaving that pigsty.

M e x i c a n P r i s o n

265

Click.

One hour later, the photo was released to the media. The head-

lines screamed,

“Dog Is Defiant!”

Those sons of bitches. They set us up. We were not going home.