Who is Raphael Garza? Pt. 05

Who Was Raphael Garza?

Back at home, my thoughts once again were focused on the Raphael Garza conundrum. When I tried to take the thirty-thousand-foot view of what I learned Saturday, it looked like a monkey trying to do obscene things to a football. There was a lot of activity, but none of it made any sense.

I needed to take more of a micro view of the facts as I knew them. I needed to look more closely at the things that bothered me most. Why did Raphael Garza tell me that Monty and Farrell hired him to seduce Kathy when it was Carlos who hired him? Why were Carlos and Garza sure that the seduction would work if they could get me out of town for a few days? Did Kathy tell me the truth about her relationship with Garza, or was there more to that story than she revealed?

As angry as I was with Kathy for what she did with Garza, I still hoped she told me the truth. It was Raphael Garza who I could not get out of my head. When Carlos came up with the idea of blackmailing Kathy, he had already hired Garza. How did he find an actor that would agree to the plan so quickly? Carlos must have known Garza previously, and knew that Garza could and would be willing to take on the job. Even with Garza dead, I still wanted to find out who he was and what relationship he had with Carlos. Mandy Briggs, the manager at the Broad Street Theater, told me that Franklyn Hawthorn started at the theater in 2006. I wondered where he was before that, and was there possibly a connection between Garza and Carlos before Garza came to Philadelphia.

I went to my computer, did a search on the Phoenix New Times newspaper and searched their files for stories about Alex Gomez. The story was dated August 14, 2006. At the top of the page, there were two pictures of Gomez standing in front of his house. The photos were captured by a Phoenix Police officer sitting in his unmarked car across the street. The officer was surveilling the residence to ensure that Gomez didn't leave before a detective showed up with an arrest warrant for Gomez.

The article said that Alex Gomez is suspected of smuggling drugs into the country from Mexico and transporting them to Los Angeles. The LA police knew of the smuggling ring, but hadn't been able to identify any members until they arrested Tomas Cruz after a bar fight. The young man had priors, an outstanding bench warrant for 'Failure to Appear,' in an assault case eight months earlier, and he was on parole. He was headed back to prison, so he told the prosecutor he had information about the drugs coming up from Mexico.

Cruz told the LA police that he and his buddy picked up the drugs from a man in Phoenix and drove them up to LA. Cruz said that he would get a call every couple of weeks and be told where and when to come pick up a shipment. Cruz named his contacts in LA, but was unable to identify the man in Phoenix. Cruz said that he was wearing a hat and sunglasses any time he met with the man, so he never got a good look at the man's face. The man never gave Cruz a name.

The LA police contacted the Phoenix police, and together with the DEA, worked out a plan to put a wire on Cruz and wait until the next time he received instructions to pick up a shipment. On July 30th, Cruz got a call to go to an old warehouse in Phoenix's rundown commercial section. Cruz and his buddy only had five minutes to get to the pickup point. When Cruz and his buddy went into the warehouse, the police and DEA agents were ten minutes away.

The only audio that the agents heard was an angry man's voice shouting in Spanish," Get the fuck in here." Then they heard a door close, followed by the angry voice again. "Did you really think you would get away with fucking me?" Then they heard four gunshots.

Cruz and his buddy were both dead when the police and the DEA agents arrived at the warehouse. The shooter was gone.

The bodies and the radio transmitter that Cruz had taped to his chest were the only evidence found. The police got a break when they received a video from a security camera on a neighboring building. The camera caught a blue Honda Civic pulling up behind the warehouse before the shooting and leaving immediately after. The video only picked up a portion of the car, so the driver did not appear in the video, but the camera did capture four numbers from the license plate.

The partial plate number led the police to Alex Gomez, and while they were scrambling to get an arrest warrant, they sent a couple of unmarked cars to watch the front and back of Gomez's house to keep an eye on him. When Gomez came out of the house to check his mail the officer watching from across the street snapped pictures of Gomez.

The officer said that Gomez went back into the house and didn't come out again, but when the detective arrived with the warrant, Gomez was gone. No one could explain how he got out of the house without being seen.

I compared the pictures in the newspaper to the person identified as Carlos in the video I shot at the Brodricksburg Athletic Park. Both men had long hair, but Gomez was clean-shaven while Carlos had a mustache and was wearing a hat and sunglasses, but I could still see that Carlos and Alex Gomez were the same man.

Freddy March

After I finished researching Alex Gomez, I then searched for Performing Arts centers in the Phoenix area and found a list of theaters. I went to the home page for each of the theaters and found an email address for inquiries and copied it down. I scanned the headshot of Franklin Hawthorn that I got from Mandy Briggs into my computer and attached it to an email addressed to each of the theaters I found. The email simply said, "I am looking for information on this actor. Has he ever worked in your theater? If so, would you please let me know how long he was there and when he left. Your assistance would be greatly appreciated." I knew it was a long shot, but I hit send anyway.

During my lunch break on Monday, I checked my email to see if I had any response to my email. There was only one response.

"No actor by the name, Franklyn Hawthorn nor has anyone that matches the man in the picture you sent, ever worked at this theater. Sorry, we couldn't be more helpful."

There were no more email responses until Wednesday. The email I received from The Phoenix Community Theater posted at 11:35 Wednesday morning.

"Mr. Martin, I think I have some information about the man in the picture you sent me. If you would like to follow up, you can call me at (602)-555-9246. Ask for Howard Simmons."

There were two attachments to the email. The first attachment was a headshot of a young man named Fredrick March. He had short blond hair and blue eyes and the second attachment was another photo of the same Fredrick March only in this photo March had long dark hair and a mustache.

I made the call. "Mr. Simmons, thank you for responding to my email. I assume from the attachments to your email that you believe that Fredrick March is Franklin Hawthorn? What can you tell me about him?"

"The man in the pictures isn't or at least wasn't Franklin Hawthorn when he was here. Back then, he called himself, Fredrick March."

"He changed his stage name?" I said.

"Oh, that's not all that unusual. Young actors spend a lot of time trying to find their perfect stage name," Howard said. "As you can see, he also likes to change his look."

"I noticed. Do you know March's real name?"

"Fredrick March is the only name we knew him by here."

"Do you remember when he left Phoenix?"

"It was 2006. We were having a casting call for a play, and the lead role would have been perfect for Freddy, but he never showed up to read for the part," Howard said. "Have you ever seen him perform? He is a very talented actor."

"I have seen him perform, and I can tell you I didn't enjoy the show," I said. "You called him Freddy?"

"I called him Freddy because I knew he hated it," Howard said. "Freddy was an outstanding actor, but as a person, he was a real bastard, and I didn't like him. So, are you looking for your Mr. Hawthorn for professional reasons or is your search of a more personal nature."

"It's personal," I said.

"I don't mean to pry, but would I be off base if I asked you if the reason you are looking for him has something to do with your wife?"

That question felt like a punch to the gut. "What do you know about it?"

"I am sorry, Mr. Martin, I don't know anything about your situation," Howard said. "What I do know is what Freddy is. Freddy is a real nasty bastard and a sociopath. He likes to hurt people."

"In what way?" I asked, already having a suspicion.

He gets his kicks seducing married women. He told me that he chose attractive married women in their thirties. He said that married women in their thirties that kept themselves looking good don't do that just for their husbands. They also do it so that other men would still find them attractive. Freddy said that he knew how to play these women and get them into his bed."

"He bragged about his affairs to you?"

"He loved to brag about himself and would tell anyone who would listen about his latest conquest, but that is not the worst of it. After the affair was over, Freddy would send videos of the naked wife performing sexual acts, to the husband. That probably doesn't surprise you."

"He sent me a streaming video as it was happening," I said.

"I asked him why he would do that to the husbands. He just laughed and said that the husband had a right to know that he was married to a cheating slut. I always thought that one day an angry husband would come after him. I thought that might be the reason he left here when he did.

"I hope that helps. If you catch up with Freddy be careful; I think he could be dangerous. You can't expect him to have any remorse for the damage he has done to your marriage, nor can you predict what he might do if you confront him."

I didn't bother to tell Howard that the actor he knew as Freddy was dead. I thanked Howard and ended the call.

Garza, the Weasel, was a triple threat: a sociopath, a talented actor and a seducer of married women. I felt like I had at least found the nexus between Carlos and Garza. Both were in Phoenix at the same time, Carlos calling himself Alex Gomez and Garza using the name Fredrick March. They both left Phoenix in 2006 and ended up in Philadelphia. I didn't believe that it could be a coincidence.

Carlos probably knew Garza and was aware of his penchant for seducing married women. That would explain why he hired Garza to seduce Kathy and why he was confident that Garza would be successful. It still didn't tell me why they streamed the video to me, and with Garza being dead, I doubted that I would ever get an answer to that question.

Why did Carlos kill Garza? Was it because of the video, or was Carlos just getting rid of loose ends? When I was thinking about that, another thought came to me. I went and took a closer look at all of the pictures of the Weasel.

Kathy Comes Home

On Thursday, I was able to put the thought of Carlos and Garza out of my mind and concentrate on my job. Friday was a different matter. Kathy would be coming home, and I wasn't sure I was ready for that to happen. I made it until four o'clock and then decided to go home, hoping to get there before Kathy.

When the garage door opened, Kathy's car was not there, but my kayak was lying on her side of the garage where it had been sitting since July 4th, when I returned home from my visit to Monty's house.

I was trying to decide what to do with the kayak when I heard Kathy's car pull into the driveway.

Kathy stopped short of the garage, got out of the car, and pointed to the kayak she said, "Why is that still there? Is this your way of telling me you don't even want my car in the garage." She was smiling when she said it.

"My shoulder still hurts too much to left it up high enough to get it back on the roof rack. Help me get it up there now, and we can drive it out to the barn tomorrow."

"I have some groceries in the car. Let me put those away first, and then we can load up the kayak," Kathy said.

After we got the kayak secured on my roof rack, Kathy pulled her car into the garage, then went into the house and stated dinner. After dinner, Kathy went upstairs to unpack while I cleaned the kitchen.

When Kathy came back downstairs, she was only wearing a tee-shirt and panties, a look I always liked, and she knew it. It seemed that she was trying to seduce me, which made me angry and aroused at the same time. She sat next to me on the sofa, and she took my hand and moved it between her legs and pressed it against the crotch of her panties. I could feel the moist heat through the thin strip of cotton.

I was pissed and horny. I stood up and grabbed Kathy's hand, dragged her up to our bedroom and threw her on the bed. I climbed on the bed between her legs and yanked her panties off. Kathy just lay there without moving. I stared down at her and asked, "Is this what you want?"

I attacked her sex with my mouth. I wasn't gentle about it. I sucked hard on her clit and bit on it hard enough that Kathy let out a pained yelp. I was pressing my mouth against her so hard that my jaw began to ache. I quit my oral attack on her and forced Kathy to roll over onto her stomach. I pushed my pants down to my knees then pulled up on Kathy's hips to get her into position so I could enter her from behind. Again I was not gentle. I rubbed my painfully erect cock against her opening, and then in one fast hard motion, I slammed myself into her, almost knocking her into the headboard.

Having been celibate for almost four months, it didn't take long to reach an intense climax. Afterward, I collapsed on top of Kathy, knocking her flat on the bed. After I recovered, I pulled my pants up and went downstairs, where I poured myself three ounces of bourbon and sat on the sofa. When I finished that drink, I went back for another.

When I woke up Saturday morning, I was lying on the sofa with a blanket over me, and I could hear Kathy moving around in the kitchen. After the way I treated her, I was surprised that she would bother to put a blanket over me. I knew that I had a right to be angry with Kathy, but I felt guilty for treating her the way I did.

I found Kathy sitting at the kitchen table with a coffee in front of her and a sad expression on her face. I got a coffee, sat down across the table from Kathy, and looked at her. I didn't know what to say, so I kept quiet.

"I know you are hurt and angry, and I accept that I am responsible for that," Kathy said. "What you did to me last night hurt and humiliated me, but if that helps you burn off some of your anger, I will accept it. Just know that I won't be able to take that kind of treatment for very long before it starts to kill my love for you."

I felt like I should apologize to Kathy, but I didn't. I just sat and drank my coffee. Kathy looked at me sadly, then got up and headed upstairs. I was pouring my second cup of coffee when I heard the shower running.

I took my coffee upstairs, intending to take my shower after Kathy finished. I was sitting on the bed when the shower stopped. I could see Kathy drying herself. She had her back to me, and when she bent down to dry her legs and feet, I had a view of her heart-shaped ass with her pussy peeking out between her thighs. That erotic view gave me an instant erection. I couldn't help myself. I went into the bathroom and picked Kathy up, carried her into the bedroom, and was about to drop her on the bed when I saw her fearful expression. I held her for a few seconds, and then I gently placed her on the bed. She stared at me while I got undressed, and she seemed to resolve herself to accept whatever I was going to do to her.

I got on the bed next to her, leaned in close, kissed her ear, and moved down to nuzzle her neck. My first kiss on her mouth didn't receive any response from Kathy, but by the time I kissed her for the third time, she opened her mouth to accept the tip of my tongue. I pushed her right arm up over her head, then kissed and licked her armpit, then did the same with her left arm. Those were very sensitive areas for Kathy, and it always got her aroused when I kissed her there. From her arms, I moved to her breasts. I had her left nipple in my mouth, and I was squeezing her right nipple between my fingers when Kathy reached down and started to stroke my throbbing cock.

I kissed and licked my way down over her stomach and pubic mound into the junction of her thighs. As I flicked my tongue across her nether lips, Kathy moved into a position where she could take me into her mouth. "I don't think you want to do that right now," I said. "I haven't bathed yet."

"I don't care," was all she said before stuffing as much of my cock into her mouth as possible.

I was nearing orgasm when Kathy stopped her oral attention as her body stiffened in reaction to a powerful orgasm. When she recovered, she said, "Please, I want you inside me now."

Kathy moved up, put her head on the pillow I moved between her legs and rubbed the head of my cock up and down the slick opening of her sex before slowly penetrating her. I stopped moving when I was in as far as I could go and just lay still. Kathy put her hands around my neck, pulled me down and gave me a deep tongue kiss. I began to stroke in and out of her while she kissed my face and neck. We made slow and tender love, and as I started to climax, Kathy tensed up and let out a long low moan as she had her second orgasm of the morning. Afterward, we stayed in bed for a while, just holding each other.

Making love to Kathy again after being apart for the last four months was great. I knew that I still wasn't ready to put Kathy's night with Garza behind me, but I felt much better about things. The anger I had felt Friday night was gone, and I thought I was now ready to work on our problem.

After about twenty minutes, Kathy got out of bed. "I think I need another shower, care to join me?" I did, and that was fun.

Later as we ate breakfast, Kathy said, "Thank you for this morning. It was wonderful to be with you that way again. I know that it didn't mean that you have forgiven me, but I hope it means you're willing to give me a chance to earn your forgiveness."

"I do feel better about things this morning, but I think we still have a long way to go," I said.

"Can we put all that behind us just for the weekend and just enjoy each other for a while before we have to deal with the mess I made again:" Kathy said.

"Okay, we'll call a truce," I said. "Let's eat, and then we'll go down to the farm to put the kayak in the barn."

When we left the house, I was in the best mood I had been in since before my trip to California.

The Barn

My grandfather bought one hundred acres, about one-third of the former Grover's Mill Dairy, in 1952. The portion of the farm that he purchased included the farmhouse and the barn and about 200 yards of frontage on Grover's Mill Pond. My grandfather used the land to grow tomatoes that he sold to local markets, and he also had a large vegetable garden for the family. As a child, I spend many summer days inner tubing on the millpond. In 1997, one year after my grandfather died, the house was struck by lightning and burned to the ground. My grandmother

moved in with my parents, and I inherited the property when my grandmother died in 2001. The property has a beautiful view of Grover's Mill Pond, and I hoped one day to build a house on the site of the original farmhouse. At the moment, I just used the barn for its workshop and storage. I usually grew a vegetable garden behind the barn, but I didn't plant one that year.

The barn had three floors. The lowest level used to be the cow barn and was entered from the barn's downhill side. In its day, the cow barn had the fifty cow stanchions where the cows were brought in for milking, fifty at a time. There hasn't been a cow in there in over 60 years. I kept my grandfather's old farm tractor down there with its mower attachment, the old hay wagon and other farm implements.