The next morning Bode walked into the Governor's Office to find Jim Bob waiting with the lieutenant governor and the speaker of the House. Bode sat behind his desk.
"Governor, what's this all about?" Mack Murdoch said. "Calling us in on a Sunday morning."
"Mack, Dicky, we're gonna revise the budget."
"How?"
"We're not firing teachers, and we're not closing schools. We're not cutting education funding. We're increasing it. A lot."
"Bode-"
He cut Jim Bob off with a raised hand.
"Where's the money coming from?" the speaker said.
"Your ideas, Dicky. Reform the property tax and expand the business tax to services. All the revenues will be dedicated to pre-K through twelve education. Every penny."
"We're gonna catch hell from the business community."
"And we're gonna tap the rainy day fund. All of it."
"We're gonna catch hell from the tea party."
"Gentlemen, Texas is dying. The only way to save our state is to educate our kids. If we don't educate them, we're going to incarcerate them. I don't want kids sentenced to prison on my watch. We'll cut everything except education."
"Why are you doing this, Governor?"
"Because we're those kids' only hope… and I don't want to make my wife a liar."
Bode stood.
"That's the legislative agenda for the next session. Get to work, boys."
"What about John Ed Johnson's special bill?"
"Forget about it."
Jim Bob stood. "Bode, he pledged fifty million to the Super PAC."
There was a knock on the door, and Helen stuck her head in.
"Mr. Burnet, there's an emergency call for you."
Jim Bob followed her out the door. Bode looked back at the speaker, who was eyeing him.
"What are you looking at, Dicky?"
"A real goddamn governor."
"You cussed."
"Special occasion."
"Governor, I don't want to take the heat for raising taxes," the lieutenant governor said.
"I'll take it."
"I'll be by your side," the speaker said.
"Aw, hell, now you boys are making me feel bad," the lieutenant governor said. "Guess we came this far together, might as well see how this story ends. I'm in. Let's kick some ass at the Capitol."
The door opened, and Jim Bob entered. His face seemed pastier than normal. He walked to his chair and sat down hard. He stared at his hands. Bode glanced at the speaker and the lieutenant governor. Both shrugged. After a long moment, Jim Bob blew out a breath and spoke.
"John Ed Johnson is dead."
" What? How? "
"They killed him. That cartel. They killed them all. John Ed, Pedro, Rosita… all the animals, too. Except the lion."
Manuel Moreno sat before a campfire on the Johnson ranch in the Davis Mountains. He was cooking breakfast. He had lived on the land for almost five months now, since the governor shot Jesus and the others that day. The gringos assumed he would make a run for the border, but he did not. He hid out on the ranch, and here he had been ever since.
Waiting.
He was promised much money for assisting the cartel with the marijuana farm. But the girl had attempted an escape the same day the governor had come out to hunt for the African lion; their fates had aligned that day. First harvest was only weeks away; Manuel's money was within his grasp, only to go up in smoke. The gringos burned the plants. And his future. He had watched the fire from the distance.
And felt the anger rise within him.
He had planned to take the money and go farther north, to buy land in Montana, perhaps, and to live the American Dream. But his American dream had been stolen from him by the gringos. Each day the anger grew. He watched as the Anglos came to the ranch and paid much money to kill Senor John Ed's game animals. He watched as Senor John Ed drove around the ranch in the Hummer as if he were a king. He watched through binoculars as Senor John Ed climbed on top of Rosita each night.
And the anger grew stronger.
Two days ago, the anger won out. Manuel had taken the AK-47 that Jesus had given him and gone to the lodge. He had walked inside at dinner time, when he knew Senor John Ed would be in the dining room and Rosita would be serving him food and Pedro would be pouring his bourbon. He killed them all. Then he killed every animal he found. He had never before eaten antelope, but it was quite good, especially when mixed with beans and wrapped in a tortilla, as he was now preparing. Manuel felt a presence and turned his head just in time to see the lion's jaws spread wide as the beast lunged at him. He felt the lion's mouth take his head and then the sharp teeth puncturing his face and skull. He dropped the tortilla.
Congressman Delgado rolled the flour tortilla filled with migas and salsa and took a big bite. Jesse sipped coffee. They were at Luis Escalera's cafe for Sunday breakfast. Jesse had heard that the congressman was in town that weekend; he had called his office and asked to meet with him.
"Are you troubled, Jesse?"
"Yes."
"Is it about the governor's wife?"
Lindsay had told Jesse that Congressman Delgado had recognized her at the Cinco de Mayo festival.
"She is not my trouble."
"Perhaps not yet. So what is now your trouble and how may I help you?"
"Mayor Gutierrez and his Mexican Mafia want me to run for governor."
The congressman leaned back in his chair. "I have heard this. Jorge called me and asked me to intervene with you. I said I would not."
"Why?"
"Because the decision to run for public office, to become a politician, is not made by committee or coercion. It is made in one's heart. A man must have the drive and the ambition and the heart to make a life of politics. You must make your own decision."
"What is your advice? Should I run?"
"No."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because your heart is here, on the border, with these poor people. You save lives every day in your clinic. Forty-five years, I have yet to save anyone in Congress."
"But you do much good."
"No. I do little good. Politics is no longer about good or bad, right or wrong… it is only about red and blue, winning and losing, profits and losses. Money. Some men are wired for politics and money, most are not. You are not. You are wired for love and hope. You love this land, and you hope for the people. Your heart is here, Jesse Rincon. Not in the Governor's Mansion."
Just a mile south of where the congressman now sat, Enrique de la Garza spoke on the phone with Hector Garcia in Austin.
"The wrong ranch?"
"Yes."
"How many did you kill?"
"Five."
Enrique sighed.
"I will pray for their souls. But why did you not shoot the governor during his speech? On national TV?"
"I was there, jefe, but I could not get into the building. Security was very tight. I was almost detained. Six Texas Rangers now guard the governor."
"Come home, Hector. We will be patient. But the governor will die."
"I will not be governor."
"Good."
"But you must leave. It is too dangerous here. If El Diablo ever learns-"
"He won't. And I won't leave you."
They sat on the back porch. Jesse leaned to Lindsay and kissed her. This time, she kissed him back.