The Governor's Wife (35 page)

But his wife was still in Laredo.

The whirlwind media tour was over, and Bode Bonner was back in Austin—back to budget deficits and a runaway wife who knew about his mistress. She had only been gone nine days, but he found that his thoughts turned to her more each day. He wanted her back. But did he want her back because he loved her or because he needed a first lady to win the White House? He didn't know. He couldn't know. He could no longer separate his political ambition from his personal life. What he wanted from who he was. Ambition burned hot inside Bode Bonner. It always had, as a football player and as a politician. It drove him to win the next game and the next election. But with each win, he wanted more. He needed more. And now, it drove him to become president.

But a president needed a first lady.

"You call her yet?"

"Nope."

"Afraid?"

"Yep."

Jim Bob fiddled with his iPhone then said, "Your followers jumped again after the
Fox News
appearance yesterday morning and the
60 Minutes
segment last night—six million, more than Ryan Seacrest."

"Who?"

There was a knock, and the door swung open on a stout middle-aged woman.

"Mr. Burnet, here are the latest poll results you asked for."

She walked over, handed a stack of papers to Jim Bob, and said, "Good morning, Governor." Then she left.

"Who's she?"

"Helen. My new aide. Mandy hired her."

"What happened to Jolene?"

"She quit while we were out of town."

"Why?"

Jim Bob's focus had turned to the polls. He answered with a shrug.

"Damn, Jolene was a helluva lot easier on the eyes than Helen."

Jim Bob flipped through the pages.

"You pulled ahead of Obama in the Bloomberg poll. In one week you've gone from not even being in the game to leading the game. Hell of a week."

"You were right, Professor. You said I'd be the presumptive Republican candidate for president. I am."

The Professor turned the pages but shook his head.

"No. I was wrong."

"But I'm leading the Republican pack."

"Not about that. About the wave. I said you were just riding the wave. You're not."

"I'm not?"

The Professor looked up at Bode.

"You
are
the wave."

Lindsay Bonner stood outside the small shanty in the least-populated part of the
colonia
. A young girl had darted inside when Lindsay had spotted her from down the road. As she came nearer, she heard hushed voices from inside. Pancho barked.

"
¡Hola!
"

No response. Lindsay walked around the outside of the shanty and tried to peek inside. She heard whispers. She stepped to the front door—a piece of sheet metal pulled across an opening—and pushed the door open enough to see inside.

"No, John Ed, I don't have the speaker and lieutenant governor on board yet. We're flying down to Houston later this week, I'll talk to them then."

"Goddamnit, Governor, I need to move on my water deals, before it rains."

"Hell, yeah, you don't want to let a good drought go by without making some money."

John Ed Johnson launched into a profane narrative, so Bode held the phone out with his left hand and made the universal masturbation gesture with his right fist. Jim Bob muffled a laugh from his spot on the other side of the governor's desk. After John Ed had tired of his tirade, he hung up without saying goodbye or go to hell. Bode shook his head.

"Man expects a lot for twenty-five million."

Jesse Rincón was at his desk in the clinic when his nurse arrived in a sweat. Inez was gone. Again.

"What is wrong?"

Lindsay caught her breath. "I found eleven girls … young girls … a man kidnapped them in Guadalajara, drove them north to the border … they said he's taking them to Houston to be—"

"Sex slaves."

Jesse stood and went to the shelves. He found two large syringes.

"The cartels have branched out into human trafficking. They smuggle thousands of girls across the border, stash them in safe houses on this side until they can transport them north to the cities, where they force them to work as prostitutes. When is he coming back for them?"

"Soon."

He grabbed a vial, inserted the needle, and filled the syringe. He then took a vial of Botulinum toxin and inserted the needle. Lindsay read over his shoulder.

"Botox?"

"Vacuum dried. I am reconstituting it with sodium chloride."

He injected sodium chloride then rotated the vial. He then filled the syringe with the liquid Botox. Then he filled the second syringe. Just in case.

"Should be enough to paralyze, at least temporarily."

"You sure?"

"I hope."

The caravan arrived at East Austin Elementary. Bode and Jim Bob rode in the lead Suburban with five of the kids; Mandy and the other six kids followed in the second Suburban. Javier and Pablo were on the state jet at that moment, flying to Brownsville to be reunited with their families. Saying goodbye was harder than Bode had expected.

"Jim Bob, I told you to hire kids."

"This isn't a commercial. And I didn't set it up. Lindsay did, before she went to the border. You're giving out learning awards."

They exited the vehicle. Bode walked up the sidewalk with the kids and into the school expecting to be greeted by Ms. Rodriguez, the kindergarten teacher. Instead, they were greeted by the Austin school superintendent and the entire board of trustees, as well as the principal and teachers. Bode leaned into Jim Bob and whispered.

"What the hell's going on?"

"Beats me."

The superintendent stuck her hand out. Her nameplate read IRINA RAMIREZ, so he figured her for a Democrat. But she smiled like a Republican.

"Governor, it's an honor. Oh, how wonderful—you brought the children."

He shook her hand, but he knew that wasn't going to be enough for her. She moved in for a full-body hug.

"Governor, what you did—saving these children—I cried."

She released him, and Ms. Rodriguez wrapped her arms around Bode.

"Governor, you made us so proud." She pulled back a bit and looked up at him. "You made me proud, because you care."

The tracking polls showed that the shooting was admired almost as much by Hispanics as tea partiers because the cartels terrorized Mexicans who had relatives in America—because Bode Bonner had stood up for Mexicans when Mexican lives were on the line. Twenty-six percent of Hispanics polled said they would vote for Bode Bonner for president. A Republican. Ms. Rodriguez introduced Bode to the others in English and then to the children in Spanish. She then led them down a corridor.

"Which grade today?" Bode asked.

"All of them."

"What?"

"We've set up in the auditorium. You're addressing the entire school. Everyone wants to meet
el hombre
."

Two beefy guys who looked like PE coaches yanked open the double doors that led into a vast auditorium filled with students, teachers, and cameras. The place looked like a pep rally before a football game. They walked down the center aisle, and a woman on the stage yelled into a microphone.

"
¡El gobernador de Tejas! ¡Y los niños!
"

The students stood and applauded then bolted from their seats and hugged him. Signs on the walls read BODE BONNER – MI AMIGO and MI HÉROE and MI GOBERNADOR. The big kid in the Kobe Bryant jersey gave Bode a high-five. The students then greeted the kids like rock stars, mobbing them and reaching out to touch them. Josefina wore her yellow dress and stuck close to Mandy; her face said she didn't know whether to smile or scream in fright. The boys enjoyed the moment, high-fiving and slapping hands with the students. They all took the stage, and the superintendent introduced the governor of Texas—in Spanish.

"Children, we are honored to have with us today the governor of our great State of Texas—Bode Bonner!"

The students screamed his name. The superintendent handed him the microphone. He spoke English; she translated in Spanish.

"Good morning. I'm so happy to be back at your school. Since I was last here, I met some wonderful kids, and I'd like you to meet them now. I'll introduce the children and let them tell you a little something about themselves. First up is Miguel Martinez."

Bode figured each kid would say his favorite food and
fútbol
team. He handed the microphone to Miguel then sat next to Ms. Rodriguez. She would translate for him as Miguel spoke in Spanish. After the media tour, the boy seemed right at home in front of a crowd.

"I am Miguel. I am eleven years old. I lived in
San Fernando
with my mother and my father. We were very poor but we had a nice life. I was happy. Each year men would come to town and hire us to go north into Texas to pick the fruit in the valley of the
Río Bravo
. It was hard labor but also an exciting adventure. So when two men drove into town one day in a big truck with the cover, we thought they had come to hire us. We came outside to greet them, my father and my mother and me. One man walked up and put a gun to my father's head and shot him. Then he shot my mother. Then he pointed the gun at me and told me to get in his truck or he would shoot me, too. I got into the truck. That was my last happy day for a long time."

Ms. Rodriguez's voice cracked. The auditorium was silent.

"We drove to other small towns along the river and the men, they took other children just as they took me. Thirteen in all. We went far into the desert where the river had run dry and the men drove us across. Into Texas. We drove north to the mountains where the men met another man named Manuel, who took us onto a ranch with strange animals, such as the buffalo and the antelope and even the lion. The Americans would come to the ranch and hunt for the animals. We often heard loud guns. They took us to a camp which became our home for many days. They forced us to clear a field deep in the trees and plant the marijuana for the
gringos
, they said. If we did not work hard enough to please them, they would hit us and not give us food. They drank the alcohol every day. We were very afraid. Until one day the men tried to get on top of Josefina but she fought and they slapped her and tore her dress and she ran into the trees to make the escape. We again heard the big guns and we thought the men had shot Josefina so we hid in the tall plants. Then we heard her voice, telling us to come out, that we had been rescued. We saw the big man with the yellow hair. He said he was the governor of Texas. And I felt the happiness in my heart once again."

Jesse drove his pickup to the shanty where the girls had been stashed. Lindsay rode next to him, and Pancho rode in the back. When they arrived, he saw a truck parked outside the shanty, so he parked down the dirt road.

"Shouldn't we call the police?"

"As I said, the police do not come into the
colonias
."

"What about the Border Patrol?"

"There is no time. If he takes these girls out of the
colonia
, they will disappear forever."

Jesse handed one syringe to his nurse.

"If the man does not go down with the first needle, stick that in him."

"How will I know?"

"You will know."

He got out of the truck and uncapped the other hypodermic needle. He walked toward the shanty. He felt his heart racing. He was a doctor, not a hero. But if he did not act now, eleven girls would be lost. Lindsay got out and followed. As they came closer, he heard a man's voice from inside. He took a position just outside the metal door. He looked at Lindsay and put a finger to his mouth. They waited.

But not for long.

The metal door opened, and a large man backed out. Jesse stabbed the needle into the man's neck and emptied the Botox into him. But the man did not go down. He was a big
hombre
and very strong. He swung around and grabbed Jesse by the neck. Jesse tried to knock his arms off, but it was as if he were hitting tree trunks.

Lindsay knew. She held the syringe like a knife and stabbed the needle into the man's neck and emptied the Botox. Then she jumped on his back and wrapped her arms around his neck and choked him. He swung around with her clinging tight and Jesse fighting him. He was strong, but she soon felt his body slowing. Weakening. Finally he collapsed to the ground.

"You are a tough woman," Jesse said.

"Like wrestling a calf at spring roundup."

"Well, he will not have wrinkles for some time," Jesse said. "Bring the truck."

She drove the truck over. The girls came out and helped them load the big man into the back. Jesse covered him with scrap wood and metal.

"What are you going to do?"

"He is a
coyote
. That is what they call men who bring Mexicans north. I would like very much to kill him, but I cannot. Hippocratic Oath. So I will drive him far into the Chihuahuan Desert and dump him. There he can live among real coyotes. Or not."