Who is Raphael Garza? Pt. 06

The safe was the biggest problem because of its size and weight. First, we carried the contents of the safe out to the truck and then tipped the safe onto a hand truck and rolled the safe onto the truck.

Before we left, I made another search of the house and did something I should have done the first time I was there. I pulled out drawers and looked underneath them. Taped to the bottom of the center drawer of the desk in Montoya's office, I found an envelope. I pulled the envelope free and dumped its contents on the desk, and I shook my head.

"Kathy, look at this," I said as I showed her what I had found. It was another passport and a driver's license, both with the name Tony Butro. The driver's license was issued in California in 2010, and this passport was issued in 2008. The pictures on the passport and license were definitely Montoya, although his hair was light brown and was much longer, with a mustache.

The passport had been used. There were stamps from the Cayman Islands, Jamaica, Aruba, and Columbia, and some of those country's stamps appeared more than once, starting in 2008, and the last trip was to the Cayman Islands back in January.

"So, is he Jorge Montoya or Tony Butro?" Kathy said.

"Doesn't matter anymore; they will both be leaving the country next week." I thought about that for a minute and said, "Actually, this works out much better for me. I planned to fly to the Cayman Islands using Montoya's passport and then return on my passport, but now I can return using the Tony Butro passport, so there is no evidence that I even left the country. I saw the wig that matches the hair in Tony Butro's passport picture when we were packing the makeup studio. I think this will work."

"I hope you're right."

Tuesday morning, I called a moving and storage company and arranged for them to meet me at Montoya's house Friday morning to pack up all of the furniture and anything else in the house. I charged that to Montoya's debit card and then set up auto payments for the monthly storage fees. On my way home, I stopped to pick up a Visa Gift card. I put $2,000 on the card and paid for it with cash from the stash in my attic.

Tuesday evening, I was back at Montoya's house waiting for the real estate agent. Sam Tucker arrived right on time and looked around the house. "Nice house, good neighborhood, and good schools this house will sell quickly in this market. When would you like it listed?"

"Tonight," I said. "Did they tell you that I would be out of the country so that you would need to handle everything for me?"

"If you have your title papers, the deed, and your mortgage contract and property tax information, I can handle that for you." He handed me a form and said, "Fill this out and have it witnessed and notarized. Fax me a copy and mail me the original." I handed Sam an envelope with all of the documents he asked for and told him I wanted the proceeds of the sale to be deposited in my Cayman National Bank account and told him the routing number for that account was also in the envelope. I had spent time practicing Montoya's signature, so when the time came to sign the contract with the real estate company, I had no problem.

"Is there a way I will be able to get hold of you if I get an offer?" Sam said.

I gave him my Tracfone number.

Kathy and I hadn't made love since Friday night because her period began Saturday, but that didn't stop her from making sure that I got off. Kathy was always generous about giving me oral, but four times in four days never happened before. I was quite surprised Tuesday night when Kathy slid her hand inside my shorts and asked me if I would like her to do me again.

"I don't want another blow job," I said. "I want you. Take it out."

"Are you sure?"

"Take it out."

Kathy went into the bathroom and did what she needed to do, and when she came back, she had a bath towel with her. She spread the towel on the bed and lay on top of it. She spread her legs apart, and I got between them and slid my engorged cock inside her. I don't know what I expected, but it felt good, and I soon realized that Kathy liked it. I took it slow and drove Kathy through two orgasms before I finished. When my flaccid member slipped out of Kathy's pussy we both looked down at the mess. "Looks like your little man could use a shower."

"He's not the only one."

Kathy and I showered together, and then I helped her change the sheets. When she got back in bed, Kathy asked, "What brought that on?"

"You kept me happy all weekend, so I just thought you might need some relief, too."

"Why have we never tried that before?" Kathy said. "That was really hot."

"I don't know, probably should have."

"We'll definitely have to do this in the future," Kathy said.

I arranged to have Friday off so I could spend the day watching the movers empty Montoya's house. Every item in the house was packed by the moving company and loaded on their truck.

The three men sent by the moving company were hard working and had most of the furniture loaded by lunchtime. I ordered pizza and Cokes for the guys, and when they were ready to leave, I thanked the men for their hard work and gave them each a fifty-dollar tip, thanks to good old Jorge Montoya.

Looking around the empty house, I felt a strange elation seeing that all traces of Montoya's life in that house were gone.

Saturday morning, Kathy followed me down to Maple Shade Township, where I sold Montoya's Mustang to the Carmax dealership. One more trace removed.

That afternoon we started to practice using Montoya's collection of wigs, hairpieces and makeup to make me look like the pictures on the passports for Montoya and Butro. By Sunday afternoon, we had it worked out well enough that I could put on the disguises myself. In both cases, I used a wig to match hair color and length, and for Butro, I used a fake mustache that matched the wig's hair color. Even though I felt confident that I could do the disguises myself, I continued to practice making the transformations between Montoya and Butro on Monday and Tuesday.

Wednesday night, I went online to a travel agency and made a reservation to fly from Philadelphia to Kingston, Jamaica, to change airlines and fly on to Grand Cayman. I put a 24-hour hold on the reservations. I also reserved a room at the Grand Cayman Marriott Resort arriving Friday, October 16, and leaving Monday, October 19. I booked three nights, even though I would only be stating one.

Thursday night, Kathy logged on to Montoya's BOA account and changed his password. We did that in case Marge had access to the account. We didn't want her to know about Montoya's trip out of the country yet. Once the BOA password was changed, Kathy signed onto Montoya's CNB account and changed that password. After Kathy finished, I pulled up my airline reservation and paid for it using Montoya's debit card.

Friday, October 16^th

I was up at 3:15 AM Friday to get ready for my trip. Kathy got up with me to make coffee while I showered. When I was ready to leave, Kathy clung to me and asked if I was sure that this was all necessary.

"I don't want to spend any more time wondering if someone will come looking for Montoya or of one of the other characters in his repertoire. I'll be fine. I will keep you informed by text message." Tears were streaming down her cheeks as I got in my car.

I made it to the airport in just under an hour, so I had plenty of time to get ready for my 6:00 AM flight. I parked in long term parking and took the shuttle to my departure terminal. Once in the terminal, I went to the nearest men's room and using one of the stalls, I changed from Walt Martin into Jorge Montoya.

Acting way calmer than I felt, I went to the airline check-in counter, gave the girl my reservation number, and showed her my passport. Within two minutes, I was on my way to the gate with my boarding pass. While waiting to board my flight, I texted Kathy to let her know that I had no problem going through security as Jorge Montoya.

My flights were on time, and I was on the ground on Grand Cayman Island and in a taxi on the way to the Marriott Resort by 4:30 PM. After I checked into my room, I went for a walk to find the Cayman National Bank. I sat in a café across the street and took a picture of the bank. I texted the photo to Kathy with the message, "Montoya is in his new home."

Saturday, I had breakfast at the hotel and took another walk around town and found a small seafood restaurant where I had lunch. After lunch, I went back to the hotel and up to my room. Housekeeping had finished cleaning the room, so I messed up the bed, used the shower and packed my things. Before I left the room, I changed my disguise to become Tony Butro, left the hotel and headed back to the airport.

I used my Visa gift card to purchase a flight to St. Thomas in the Virgin Islands, traveling as Tony Butro. I spent Saturday night in St. Thomas and flew out to Philadelphia in the morning, still traveling as Tony Butro. I arrived in Philadelphia at 2:45 PM and took the shuttle bus to my car in long term parking. I put the travel bag from my trip to the Cayman Islands in the trunk and got my bag for the trip to San Jose. I removed the wig and fake mustache and tossed them in the trunk. Five minutes later, I was back on the shuttle heading back to the terminal. My flight from Philadelphia to San Jose landed in San Jose, California, at 9:42 PM Sunday.

On The Home Stretch

This time, my week-long Gladstone Process class went along without a hitch. There was one awkward moment during the class member's introductions on Monday. When I stood up and told the class who I was, I noticed one of my classmates seemed more interested in me than anyone else. That bothered me a little until he stood up and introduced himself as David Stinson of Stinson Enterprises. I guess after he traded his June 1st class seat for my October 19th seat, he wondered what I was doing in the same class with him. During our first coffee break, Stinson approached me and asked me to meet him in the hotel bar after class. The way he said it didn't sound like an invitation but more like a command.

Stinson was already in the bar when I arrived and waved my over to the table he had claimed.

"Shall we order drinks first?" Stinson said.

When the waitress left with our order, Stinson said, "Can you explain something to me? You were supposed to be in this class originally, but you ended up in the June 1st class which, was originally supposed to be mine. You called me back in June and asked how I ended up trading my seat for yours, and I told you that I had an offer of $5,000 to trade with you. You asked me a lot of questions about who arranged the trade and if they paid me. Then in the middle of July, I was visited by the FBI, and they asked me all of the same questions, but they wouldn't tell me what was going on. What was this all about?"

I didn't tell him about Kathy's seduction, but I did tell him about the money laundering scheme the First Bank of Brodricksburg was running and that my wife had just become the auditor responsible for that bank. "The bank president was afraid that my wife would uncover their side business. They thought if they could get me out of town for a week, they could work on getting my wife to cooperate with them. They were responsible for me ending up getting your seat in the class."

I went on to tell Stinson how the FBI got involved, without mentioning my part in that. When I told Stinson what happened to Montgomery and Farrell, his eyes got big, and he said, "Holy shit. You and your wife got out okay?"

"It's been rough for us, but things seem to be getting better."

I wondered what Stinson would have thought if I told him that the copy of the cashier's check he got from FBB was responsible for getting the FBI involved. Without it, I would not have stumbled onto the identities of Montgomery and Farrell.

Over the rest of the week, David Stinson spent a lot of time together and became pretty good friends.

By Friday morning, I was getting concerned about Kathy. I called her every night and began to notice a change in her. Monday and Tuesday, Kathy was cheerful and happy to talk to me, but on Wednesday, she sounded like she was worried about something, but she would not say what. She kept telling me, "We'll talk when you get home." Thursday night's call was even worse. Kathy didn't seem to want to talk at all.

When we finished our class on Friday, I called the airline to see if I could get out on a redeye instead of waiting till Saturday morning. I was able to get on a flight that got me to Philadelphia at 9:30 AM Saturday. I managed to get some sleep on the plane, so I felt good on the drive home.

When I got to the house, I was afraid of what I might walk into when I entered the house. Kathy must have heard the garage door opening because she was waiting for me at the kitchen door before I could get out of the car. I left my luggage in the car and went to Kathy. She threw her arms around me and kissed me over and over.

"I am so glad you're home," Kathy said between kisses.

When she finally let me into the kitchen, I picked Kathy up and carried her into the living room and dropped her on the sofa, and then I sat down next to her. "Time to tell me what you wouldn't tell me on the phone. I know you were upset about something, so spill it. You can't keep secrets if you ever hope to save this marriage."

"There are no secrets. It's just that I did something that might make you mad, and it is something that we could not talk about on the phone," Kathy said, and then she stood and started pacing back and forth in front of me. "I know you are going to tell me I was stupid and should have talked to you first, but I was so angry that I couldn't help myself."

I was starting to get a knot in my stomach, worrying about what she might have done. "Kathy, just tell me what you did."

Kathy took a deep breath and started. "When you left for the airport on Friday, I started thinking about Marge Robinson and her involvement in everything that happened to us, and it made me angry. What pissed me off the most was that she got away with it. I tried to satisfy myself, knowing that she would never see her lover again. And that she would think that he betrayed her. By Wednesday, that wasn't enough pain for her. I needed to do more."

"What did you do?"

"I added some steps to your plan," Kathy said. "I had to work fast because it had to be done before you, I mean Montoya, left the country. I drove a little way out of town toward Trenton and stopped in a shopping center parking lot, and then I used Montoya's cell phone to get into Montoya's BOA account and transferred all but $20,000 from the savings account to his CNB account. Then I changed the amount transferred each month from the savings to the checking from $8,000 a month to $5,000 a month. That will give Marge spending money for four months before the account dries up. That's when she'll know for sure Montoya betrayed her. That was step one. For step two, I opened two numbered bank accounts at different banks in the Caymans. Then I transferred half of Montoya's CNB account into each of the new accounts."

I couldn't believe what Kathy was telling me. Frankly, I was stunned.

"That's not all. I remembered how you blew the cover on FBB by sending the video to the FBI, and that gave me an idea. I took the two DVDs of Marge and Montoya having sex and uploaded them onto Montoya's laptop. I got an older woman to help me and drove her over to Brodricksburg and used the same shipping store you did. I had her FedEx the laptop to the FBI in Philadelphia to the attention of Special Agent Vanhorn. That was my third and final step."

I sat looking at Kathy, waiting to see if she had more to say. When it was apparent that she finished, I saw the worry on her face as she waited for my reaction. It took me a minute to review everything Kathy told me before it finally sunk in. I started laughing and couldn't stop for a full minute. "Brilliant," I said. "Absolutely, fucking brilliant."

I got off the sofa and picked Kathy up and spun her around and kissed her.

"You're not mad at me?"

"For doing what I should have thought of doing. No, I am not mad, not at all. I love it. When Van Horn sees those videos and realizes that Marge lied to them to protect her lover and herself, she'll be in deep shit. Lying to the FBI is a crime, and she is likely going to face felony murder charges."

"What do you mean? Marge didn't kill anyone."

"If someone dies during the commission of a crime, anyone involved with the crime can be indicted for felony murder. Now, Marge will have to tell Van Horn about Montoya, and when they go to find him, he'll be gone, and so will all the money. Who was the old lady that sent the laptop for you, and are you sure you can trust her."

Kathy left the room and came back with her cell phone. She pulled up a picture from her gallery and handed me the camera. I didn't recognize the women in the picture. She looked to be near sixty with gray hair nicely styled, long dangling earrings, and a string of pearls around her neck. She dressed like she was on her way to play bridge with a group of her rich old lady friends. She was wearing too much makeup with bright red lipstick. Her satin gloves came up to her elbows, and she had a ring on every finger. She topped off the outfit with a large pair of glasses with tinted lenses."

"Where did you find her?"

Kathy giggled and said, "You're looking at her."

I picked Kathy up and headed to our bedroom.

"What are you up to?" a smiling Kathy asked.

"The old lady in the picture has got me hot, and since she isn't here, you will have to do."

After a very long lovemaking session, Kathy asked me the question I think most worried her. "Have you decided what you are going to do? Are you going to ask for a divorce, or are you going to give me a second chance?"

"I made my decision that cold dark rainy night when I was out on Grover's Mill Pond. It was simple. I am better with you than I could ever be without you."

Kathy climbed onto my lap and hugged me while she cried.

Two weeks after Kathy sent Montoya's laptop to the FBI, I got a call from Agent Van Horn. He said he was going to be in Princeton on business the next day and wondered if Kathy and I could meet with him for a few minutes. Kathy and I met Agent Van Horn at Starbucks, and over coffee, he said he had a couple of pictures he wanted to show us. He pulled out the first picture and asked, "Do either of you know this man?"

I recognized the picture as being a still from the video of Marge and Montoya. "That's Frank Lewis," I said.

Kathy looked at the picture and said, "He looks different, but I think that is Raphael Garza.

Van Horn didn't comment on our answers; he just pulled out another picture and said, "What about her?"

"That's Marge Robinson," Kathy said, and I just nodded my head in agreement.

"These two were lovers," Van Horn said. "It seems that we were all fooled by them. It turns out, Frank Lewis is not dead after all. Carlos and Frank Lewis are the same person, and his real name is Jorge Montoya. Apparently, Montoya decided to leave the country and leave Mrs. Robinson behind. We traced Montoya to the Cayman Islands, but lost his trail there. He's on the run from the La Morte Cartel us and the FBI. He better hope we catch him first."

"Where is Marge Robinson now?" I said.

Van Horn smiled and said, "She is back in the Federal Detention Center."

After that meeting with Agent Van Horn, we never heard from him again.

When we got home, Kathy led me into the living room, and we sat on the sofa. Kathy took both of my hands in hers and said, "How would you feel about us having a baby?"

I smiled at her and said, "When do we start?"