Blue Coyote Motel (22 page)

"I can't believe this. We have seven others, but they're a little smaller, 3' x 4'. Each one is somewhat different from the others, but they're all of Blue Coyote and all by the same artist. The price is $375.00 per painting, but since you're buying so many, I can do better on the price. The total for all eight would be $3,125, but I'll take $2,750 for all of them," the young man said.

Maria took out her debit card and paid for them. "I really like some of the other pieces that you have on display, but I need to think about what I can use. I'll be back in a few weeks. You've been so helpful, thank you."

"If you call before you come and tell me what you're interested in, I'd be happy to have some pieces ready for you. I hope you enjoy the Blue Coyote paintings. May I ask what you'll be doing with so many?" the young man asked.

"Yes. My husband and I bought a motel just off Interstate 10 about an hour and a half from here. We're remodeling it. It doesn't seem like there are any others along that particular route. It's remote, but we think vacationers, traveling salesmen, and people who are tired after a long day of driving will stop and spend the night with us. We want to provide them with a really nice place to rest. Yes, I will call you the next time I come to Phoenix. Again, thanks, you've been most helpful!" Maria exclaimed.

The young man wrapped the paintings in bubble wrap and helped her load the Blue Coyote paintings in her van. She could hardly wait to get back to the motel and share with Jeffrey what she'd bought.

CHAPTER 22

The design, construction, and remodel of the laboratory space claimed every waking minute of Jeffrey's time. He told the contractor, Jim, what he wanted in his lab. He showed him how the basement needed to be divided into three main rooms with a small office. Jeffrey showed him where he wanted to place the back-up generator, running water, and sink. It was essential to Jeffrey that there was a built-in desk with a large television screen over it and a counter next to it for his microscope and other scientific equipment. The image on the microscope needed to be projected onto the television screen. He told Jim he had an idea for purifying air in the lab, then feeding it into the motel rooms, so he needed a large commercial grade air-conditioner to be put in the basement with vents leading to all the motel rooms, plus the main house, the office, the lab, and the refreshment area.

Jeffrey picked out the type of sink, the paint for the walls, the canisters he would need in the storage areas, and the cages for the laboratory test animals. He let Jim think that he would be involved in breeding dogs and any experiments done on the dogs would be done to improve the breed. No need to tell him what he would be doing to the rats he used in his tests and experiments.

Ideas for new drugs and new experiments were flooding Jeffrey's brain. He was constantly making notes and had even resorted to keeping a pen and pad next to his side of the bed, waking up several times in the night to jot down fresh ideas.

As the lab was nearing completion, Jeffrey sat down and began to make a timeline, deciding which experiments he wanted to start first. For several years, he had played around with an idea he had for a narcotic substance which could be pumped into the air people breathe, calming them and allowing them to feel happy and stress free. He had thought about it initially because of Maria's bouts with depression.

Jeffrey chose to call the drug he was making for Maria "Freedom" because it would free Maria from her bouts with depression. He decided to wait to tell her about it until he perfected it, but he was pretty sure he could do it. The more he thought about it, he determined it would be an airborne type of Xanax. If it worked as he envisioned, it could be administered to every person on the planet. It might even be responsible for bringing about world peace.
Imagine
, he thought,
there
would
be
no
more
wars
,
hatred
,
discrimination
,
strife
,
terrorism
,
or
dictators
,
because
everyone
on
the
planet
would
be
exposed
to
Freedom
.

This new and exciting drug would allow people to be at their best at all times. They would be productive, happy, and free from anxiety, stress, and depression. He was quite familiar with Xanax, Prozac, and the other anti-anxiety drugs on the market, but they were nothing like the one he was planning. All of the products presently on the market had to be prescribed by a doctor and were intentionally taken by the patient. Freedom would be airborne and disbursed into the environment. People wouldn't know that they were taking a drug because it would be in the air. However, they would quickly begin to feel better once it was administered. He knew that technically it was a narcotic and narcotics of that type could only be prescribed by a licensed physician; all the better reason for no one to know what he was planning to develop in his lab. If he was successful, he knew he could sell Freedom for huge amounts of money.

He had read where sandalwood had been used in drugs in China and Tibet over 4,000 years ago. It was also frequently used in Native American ceremonies. Sandalwood incense was quite common and could be bought anywhere incense was sold. The scent of sandalwood would mask the odor of the other elements in Freedom and would be an integral part of his mixture. The odor of sandalwood was common in the Southwest, so no one would notice if he used it in Freedom.

The rest of the narcotic compound Jeffrey had in mind consisted of ingredients not available on the open market. Their sales in the United States were strictly regulated and controlled. The extracts he needed to make Freedom would be difficult for an individual to obtain. He also had to get the ingredients for the anti-aging hormone. He decided it was time for him to take a trip to Mexico. He remembered the name of a distributor who imported plants from the Amazon, distilled the plants, and shipped the processed end product to various distributors in the United States. It was the same distributor Moore Labs had used. Jeffrey didn't have the needed government permits to purchase the drugs in the United States as Moore Labs had been able to do; however, for the right price, anything was possible in Mexico.

CHAPTER 23

A few days later as he was driving to Sky Harbor airport in Phoenix, Jeffrey thought back to the last couple of months. He and Maria were getting close to opening the motel, his laboratory was almost finished and he was off to Mexico to get the products he'd need for the anti-aging hormone and procure the basic ingredients for his new Freedom drug. He felt good. He had been a little worried that the 24/7 motel arrangement with Maria might soon get old. But if anything, it had strengthened their relationship. Now he was about to begin working on an exciting experiment that was every bit as important as the anti-aging hormone.

Jeffrey was pleased that he'd thought to install a false bottom in his carry-on luggage so he could conceal the cash he'd need in Mexico. He knew he could get through the metal scanner at security with a large amount of cash, but Customs could pose a problem. Jeffrey had been to Mexico enough times to know that the searches they conducted upon arriving in Mexico were nothing like the ones conducted in the U.S.
But
even
so
, he thought,
I
better
be
prepared
in
case
I
am
searched
. He smiled, thinking of everything he had accomplished.

He parked his car at Sky Harbor airport and after clearing security, boarded the Aeromexico Airlines plane for Guadalajara. Jeffrey had read that the airline was having financial troubles, but you'd never know it from the completely full flight. In addition to the Mexicans returning to their homeland, there were a number of American women. Many of them looked like they might be candidates for cosmetic surgery at the American hospital in Guadalajara. Cosmetic surgery was a lot cheaper in Mexico than it was in the United States. One could get a nurse, a margarita, and luxurious accommodations while recuperating from cosmetic surgery, all at a quarter of the U.S. costs. Many American women had their "work" done in Mexico.

It was a smooth flight and Jeffrey was glad that over the years he had kept up his fluency in Spanish. He easily conversed with his seatmates and the flight attendant. Being able to speak Spanish, rather than having to use an interpreter, was going to make it a lot easier to deal directly with the supplier with whom he would soon be doing business.

As he stood in the Customs line, he felt himself beginning to perspire.  He could feel the moisture under his arms and on his face. He hoped it didn’t show. Even though it had seemed like such a good idea back in his lab, now that the line was moving, he was increasingly nervous about the false bottom in his carry-on. Then he realized he was going to be lucky. The Customs official was only searching every fourth person and so far, he, Jeffrey, wouldn’t be that person. The searches being made were just as he remembered from earlier trips to Mexico—they were poorly done, lazy searches. The BIENVENIDOS sign on the wall caught his attention, reminding him he was in Mexico. The Customs official waved him through as the red light turned to green.

Jeffrey casually strolled out of the airport and made his way to the taxi stand. In smooth Spanish, he told the driver to take him to the Hilton Hotel in the city, about a thirty minute drive. He checked in and took the elevator to his room, which overlooked the hotel's pool and the brilliantly colored tropical plants in the garden. The pool was empty. It was still late winter in Guadalajara.

Jeffrey recalled the name of the drug distributor he would need and placed a call to Hernandez Compania. It wasn't a large company and he was able to make an appointment with the general manager for the next day.

Next, he called Maria and told her he had arrived, had been able to make an appointment with the man he needed to see, and expected to return home the next night. He unpacked his carry-on bag, hanging up the shirt he planned to wear in the morning. Mexican men did not dress casually when they conducted business. Jeffrey had worn a sport coat on the plane, which he would wear over the dress shirt with one of the few ties Maria had not donated to the church. He was ready for his meeting and was hopeful it would be productive.

Traveling was tiring. There was no way around it. Hurry up and wait. Hurry up and wait. The luxury of arriving at the last minute for a flight was no longer an option. A long line in security could easily result in a missed flight. He went to the Vinifera lounge in the hotel, sat down at the bar, and ordered a margarita, some chips, and a couple of tacos. By now it was 8:00 p.m. and he knew tomorrow was going to be a long day. Even though Guadalajara was two hours ahead in time and his body didn't feel that tired, he decided to go back to the room. After a good night's sleep he would be fresh for tomorrow's meeting.

The next morning, he showered, shaved, and as he got ready to put on his shirt, he discovered that one side of it was badly wrinkled. He needed to conduct this meeting from a position of power and a wrinkled shirt was not an option. Jeffrey quickly pressed the shirt, finished dressing, and rode the elevator down to the hotel dining room. After a breakfast of huevo chorizo scramble and jalapeno corn cakes, he walked a few blocks to the offices of the Hernandez Compania. Nothing had changed since the last time he had been in Mexico. There were unfinished buildings with exposed steel rebar, the constant sound of blaring horns, and streets filthy with litter, excrement, and mud. Young children were still on every corner begging for money and selling Chiclets.

Hernandez Compania was located on Rincon de Las Praderas. When he entered the low-lying industrial building, he told the receptionist that he had an appointment with Señor Jose Perez. A few minutes later, a door leading from the reception area opened and a handsome older man walked over to Jeffrey, introduced himself, and shook his hand. Sr. Perez was an elegant looking man with a mane of white hair surrounding his dark brown face. To Jeffrey, he looked to be part Mexican, part Indian. Although he wasn't very tall, he had the powerful build of someone who had spent a lot of time working out.

Sr. Perez asked Jeffrey to follow him. They walked down several long, narrow halls, finally entering a large office tastefully decorated with plush carpeting, Mexican artifacts, and the usual picture of a wife and children displayed prominently on the desk.

He told Sr. Perez that he was a scientist who was starting a company and would like to purchase some items from his company. He explained that he had applied to the US government for the necessary permits, but that it often took a long time to receive them and he was anxious to get started right away. He told Sr. Perez he could give him a large cash retainer today to apply as a draw against future purchases. Jeffrey said after he had spent the initial amount, he would again travel to Mexico and give Sr. Perez another cash payment to cover any future purchases.

Jeffrey knew that he couldn't ship or carry the items he needed into the United States. It would be illegal for them to be in his possession. Sr. Perez assured him that the items could be sent to his company’s distribution center in California and then shipped to him. The drug companies were a powerful lobby in Washington D.C. and the agreement between Mexico and the United States, which had been made several years earlier, allowed the drugs to be shipped from Mexico to the various distribution points without any questions or inspections.