Who is Raphael Garza? Pt. 06

Who is Raphael Garza? Part 6

Who was Jorge Montoya?

As exhausted as we were, neither of us slept well, and we were both awake by 8:15 Sunday morning. As we drank our coffee, we didn't speak about our adventure of the previous night. After eating breakfast, I went into my office with the three items I took from Garza, his keys, his cell phone and his wallet. Kathy followed me in with fresh cups of coffee for both of us. The keychain held the fob for the keyless start and another fob for his home security system. I opened Garza's phone, but it was locked. I tossed the phone on the desk and said. "That's no help."

"Check his wallet and see who he was yesterday," Kathy said.

I looked at her because of the way she phrased her statement, "See who he was yesterday." It was almost funny, but still appropriate.

The wallet held $150 in cash, two debit cards, and a Pennsylvania driver's license. The name on the debit cards and driver's license was Jorge Montoya.

"Another fucking name!" I yelled.

I showed Kathy the license and said, "His name is Jorge Montoya, and it has an address in Rydal, Pennsylvania."

The picture on the license looked more like his Garza character than Carlos, but it was easy to see that he could play both.

"You think that's his real name?" Kathy said.

"Who knows? This license was issued in 2010, so he has used that name for a while. Let me check out this address and see if it is real, and if so, we will need to find out if anyone else lives there that might come looking for him."

I Googled the address on the driver's license and looked up the property tax records. The tax records verified that the property was purchased in 2010 by Jorge Montoya.

"I am going to have to pay a visit to the late Mr. Montoya's house.

"Why?"

"I want to know if he really did live there and see if anyone lived there with him.

I would also like to get inside the house to see if there is anything there that could lead back to us."

"If you go, I am going with you."

I was going to say no, but I could see that she was determined. "Okay, go after lunch."

The drive from Princeton to Rydal took about an hour. My GPS led us directly to the house. From the street, you could not see the front of the house or the garage entrance. I drove around the block once before I pulled into the driveway and stopped in front of the garage. As soon as the car stopped, Kathy jumped out and went to the front door and pressed the doorbell. Kathy waited a minute then pressed the doorbell again. There was still no response, so Kathy came back to the car.

"What were you planning to do if someone answered the door?" I said.

"I would have said 'Hello, have you heard the good word of our lord and savior'?" Kathy said. "You wanted to know if anyone else lived there, didn't you?"

I was tense, but I had to laugh anyway. "I guess if someone did answer the door, you would be sent away pretty quickly."

Montoya's key chain had a fob with buttons to open the garage door and arm and disarm the house's security system. When I opened the door of the two-car garage it was empty. I pulled the car in and closed the door behind us. I listened for any sounds that would indicate an alarm, but heard nothing. I got out of the car and approached the door to the house. I pressed the button on the fob to disarm the alarm system and heard a beep and a recorded voice say "System Disarmed."

Kathy and I both put on latex gloves, I opened the door and we entered the kitchen of the silent house. Kathy gave the kitchen a quick appraisal and said, "Looks like he lives, I mean lived, here alone."

"What makes you say that?" I said as I opened the refrigerator.

"Look in the sink. There is one coffee mug, one plate, one fork, and one knife. It looks like he had breakfast for one yesterday."

"There's not much food in the fridge, I said. "Some ground beef, a block of cheese and some salad makings. There's also a half case of beer." I took two Dock Street Bohemian Pilsners from the fridge, handed one to Kathy and said, "I think we need to search the rest of the house to be sure he lived here alone."

We walked through the family room into the front foyer. To the right of the stairs leading to the second floor was Montoya's home office. I told Kathy that I was going to start in the office and asked her to check out the second floor. As Kathy headed upstairs, I sat down at Montoya's desk and searched through the drawers. In the top drawer, I found a new unused flash drive and a roll of tape, a couple of pens and an unused pad of paper. The lower drawer was full of file folders. There were many documents in the folders, but after looking through them, they didn't seem to have anything to do with the drug dealing or the money laundering, so I put them back where I found them and turned my attention to the laptop computer on the desk. When I moved the wireless mouse, the screen lit up and displayed the desktop. Apparently, he, I guessed I should call him Montoya now, wasn't worried that he would never be coming home again and left his computer on when he left the house Saturday morning. That thought gave me a chill. I guess you can never be sure of what might happen to you at any time.

There were no interesting files or folders on the desktop, so I opened his email account. There was nothing in his inbox, but there was a note he sent out Friday to a theater group in Paducah, Kentucky, which included his headshot using the name. Alonzo Jackson. In the email, Montoya inquired about the prospect of auditioning for any upcoming projects. Apparently, he could not give up the acting bug.

The picture he attached to his note showed him with medium length light brown hair and no facial hair. Montoya looked very different, but not enough that I couldn't tell that it was the Weasel.

There were no emails to friends or business associates, and the trash file was empty. There was only one name in his contacts list. When I put the cursor over the name, Maggie, the email address that came up was 'margaret.robertson@xxx.com' I wondered if Margaret was a business contact or a personal friend.

With nothing else in the emails, I went to the files on the hard drive. There were no music files or picture files, but there were about twenty files in the Documents folder. Two of them caught my interest. The first file I opened was labeled 'Business.' The file was a spreadsheet with about 125 names with street addresses, email addresses, and phone numbers followed by three columns of numbers. There was nothing to indicate what the numbers represented. The names were in alphabetical order, and there were five lines with no information. I had no idea what this file represented or if it was important. The other file labeled 'PWs' was just what you might expect it to be. It was a spreadsheet listing the web addresses for several businesses along with sign-in IDs and passwords, phone numbers, and in some cases, account numbers.

The list started with the IDs and passwords for three different email accounts, followed by insurance companies for his car and homeowner's policies and a few other internet sites that didn't interest me, but what followed did. First Bank of Brodricksburg was next on the list, followed by Bank of America and the Cayman National Bank. These bank listings included sign-on IDs, passwords, and account numbers. I sent the 'PWs' spreadsheet to Montoya's printer and then opened each of the three email accounts.

The first one was the account that he used to send out his headshot. JMontoya@xxxx.com.

The ID for the second account I found was carl0s@xxxx.com. The notes in this account were all sent to or received from Montgomery and Farrell. The emails dated back to the first of the year. There were only thirteen notes, and I downloaded them all to the flash drive I found in Montoya's desk drawer.

The third account with the ID, cagomez, concerned me. When I opened it, all the notes were in Spanish. There were only five notes in the inbox and three in the sent file. I added these notes to the flash drive. I took three years of Spanish in high school, but that was a long time ago, so I knew it would take me a while to translate those notes.

When I found nothing else of interest in the office, I went back into the hallway and opened the hall closet. There was only one thing in the closet. It was a big safe, five feet tall, and maybe three feet wide. I went back to the office and looked at the spreadsheet, and on the last line was the word "Combo" followed by the numbers 37, 96, and 14. Could it be that easy? I spun the dial to the numbers, and the safe opened.

The contents of the safe presented a whole new set of problems. I am not a weapons expert, but it appeared that Montoya had two AR15 assault rifles and five different handguns in the safe, with several boxes of ammunition for those weapons. In addition to the guns, there were stacks of hundred dollar bills totaling $50,000 and a large envelope containing what I assumed to be the missing $240,000 in bearer bonds. There was also a Pendaflex accordion file full Montoya's legal papers. Behind the Pendaflex folder, I found a box on the floor of the safe. The box contained twenty DVDs in individual cases.

I was using the computer to look at one of the DVDs when Kathy came back into the office.

"I checked out the master bedroom and found only men's clothing all the same size, same with his dresser drawers. But in the master bathroom, I found a woman's bathrobe. Maybe that's for guests. I also looked in the other rooms up there, and I can say that no one else lives in this house,' Kathy said, "There is one other room I think you should see before we leave."

"We can't leave yet," I said, and I led Kathy over to the closet and showed her the safe. She looked at the guns, money and bearer bonds and shook her head.

"What do you think we should do?" Kathy said.

"I've got something to show you over here," I said, and moved over to the desk and motioned for Kathy to follow me.

I pointed to the twenty DVDs in their plastic cases and picked one up, and I indicated the writing on the DVD case. 'Julia Paxton, May 28, 2005.' I picked up another DVD. This one said, 'Laura Nelson November 4, 2011'.

Kathy looked at me and asked, "What are these?"

I pointed at the computer screen and hit play, and the video of Kathy in bed Garza appeared on the screen. Kathy didn't make a sound, and when I looked at her, tears were streaming down her face. "Turn it off, please," She said.

"These are all videos of women that Montoya or whoever he claimed to be at the time, seduced and then if Howard was right, sent proof of the seductions to their husbands."

Kathy was quiet for a minute, and then asked, "What are we going to do?"

"We'll take these DVDs home and destroy them and leave the rest for now. We should leave everything else the way we found it. We'll come back next Saturday, and if no one has been in the house between now and then, we will take a closer look at Mr. Montoya's files and decide what to do about the contents of the safe."

I locked the safe and followed Kathy up to what I assumed was the guest bathroom. I was surprised to see that Montoya converted the bathroom into what looked like a makeup artist's studio. There was an assortment of wigs, hairpieces, beards, and mustaches, along with different color contact lenses and theatrical prosthetics and makeup. With everything he had in his makeup studio, Montoya could be anyone he wanted to be.

"Holy shit, the guy was a human chameleon," I said.

Before we left the house, I went back to the office and grabbed the roll of Scotch Tape in the desk drawer. I went to the front door and ran tape from the bottom of the door to the door frame. Kathy asked me what I was doing, and I said, "This will let us know if anyone has been in the house between now and when we come back next Saturday."

I also taped the back door, and again in the garage on the door going into the kitchen.

Back home, Kathy and I flopped down on the sofa. "You want a drink?" I said.

"No, I just want to sit for a minute," Kathy said then she looked at me with a half-smile on her face and said, "So what do we tell people when they ask what we did this weekend?"

I laughed and said, "Just say it was a routine weekend for us. We shot a man, sunk his body in a millpond, then broke into the dead man's house and found $50,000 in cash and $240,000 in bearer bonds, several guns and ammunition."

"Don't forget that we also drank his beer," Kathy added.

"I think we need sleep. We're getting a little punchy. Let's go to bed."

When we got into bed, Kathy moved over close to me, wrapped her fingers around my cock, and began to stroke it while saying, "I don't want to think about anything. Will you please make love to me?"

With the erection that rapidly developed, Kathy's idea sounded great to me. As exhausted as we were, we both fell asleep as soon as we finished.

Monday evening, when I got home, Kathy was already there and in the kitchen starting dinner. I looked at her as she was busy cutting vegetables, and for the first time in four months, I felt like there might be a chance for me to get past what happened in June and be able to forgive her. The temptation to go into the kitchen, wrap my arms around her, and kiss her was strong. I would need to take things slow for now, but I felt better about us.

"Dinner will be ready in half an hour; do you want a drink first?" Kathy said.

"I'll get the drinks," I said.

We sat on the sofa with our drinks and tried to pretend that our life was completely normal.

"How was work today?" Kathy asked.

"You may find this ironic, but I got a call today from John Odem, from Gladstone. He was the class manager for the Gladstone Process class I started in June. He called to tell me he has an open seat in the class that starts October 19th," I said.

Kathy looked at me as she spoke. "That's the class you were supposed to be in before..."

"Yes." I decided not to say anything more about that. "So, how was your day?"

"Not easy. I kept thinking about what we did. It's so hard to believe that all happened over the weekend. And I am beginning to hate my job. I know I am good at it, but I feel like my manager thinks he made a mistake when he promoted me to supervisor. I feel like maybe I should find another job."

"I'll support whatever you decide to do."

Kathy looked at me with tears in her eyes and said, "That's nice to know. Thank you."

Later, when we got to bed, Kathy kissed me, slid her hand into my pants, and stroked me. I was still tired from the weekend, but when Kathy slid under the covers and took me into her mouth and cupped my ball sack in her warm hands, I was ready to go. I turned myself around so that I could get my mouth on her mound and split the cleft with my tongue. I concentrated on her clit, sucking it between my lips and flicking my tongue across it as fast as possible.

After she had a small orgasm, Kathy pulled my face to hers and kissed me deeply and whispered in my ear, "Please put your beautiful hard cock into me and fuck me slow and deep for as long as you can."

I pushed myself all the way in, and Kathy wrapped her legs around me and pulled me tighter against her body. As I slowly worked in and out the way she asked me to, Kathy kept kissing me and biting my ears and neck. Kathy had another small orgasm just before I filled her with my hot seed, and two minutes later, she was asleep.

What we did that night was repeated every night that week. By Friday, I was beginning to worry that Kathy was trying to use sex to manipulate me into forgiving her, which bothered me.

Montoya's Emails

Friday night, I plugged the flash drive into my computer and pulled up the emails I copied from Montoya's laptop. All of Montgomery and Farrell's emails went to carl0s@xxxx.com. They took care when writing the notes so that the intent was not apparent to anyone unfamiliar with their activities. The notes mentioned business meetings with dates and times, but no mention of the reason for the meetings. None of the emails mentioned Kathy or, Monty's concerns about her discovering their operation. After reading all of the notes, I hadn't learned anything I didn't already know.

After I finished Monty and Farrell's communications with Carlos, I started working on the email notes written in Spanish. The Spanish used in those notes was not the Spanish I learned in high school. A lot of it was idiomatic, and in some cases, I think some words were codes that I couldn't decipher. I got from the notes that La Morte wanted to know what happened to their $750,000 and their bearer bonds. In one response, Montoya told La Morte that Monty and Farrell refused to tell him what they did with the money. In another reply, he said that he thought the FBI had the money, but La Morte accused Montoya of taking the money and killing Monty and Farrell, which Montoya denied.

In another exchange, La Morte told Montoya that if he didn't come up with the $750K and the $240K in bearer bonds, they would cut him into little pieces. In his response, Montoya said, "Sé quién tiene los paquetes y los recibiré este fin de semana." I translated that to be "I know who has the packages, and I will get them this weekend."

That note got my attention. The next email from La Morte read, "Mientes, Nosotros venimos por ti." Translation, "You lie; we are coming for you."

I worried that Montoya might have told La Morte that he thought I took the money. Montoya's final note to La Morte was defiant. Me rio de ti. Tu no puedes encontrarme. No podías encontrar tu propio culo con ambas manos." Translation, "I laugh at you. You couldn't find your own ass with both hands."

When I finished, I showed the notes to Kathy.

"Do you think there is any way they can find out about us from anything in Montoya's house?" Kathy said.

"I don't know, but we will make sure there isn't anything there tomorrow."

That night when Kathy started to kiss me, I held her back and asked her why she was after me every night.

"I'm scared. I can't stop thinking about what we did Saturday. We killed a man and dumped his body in a pond. We don't know if we are in danger or not, and I am terrified that I might lose you. Making love to you when we come to bed each night allows me to forget everything for a while, and then I can sleep."

I didn't say anything. I pushed Kathy down on the bed and made slow passionate love to her, and afterward, I told her she could have that anytime she needed it.

What was Jorge Montoya Up To?

Saturday October 3^rd

When we arrived at Montoya's house Saturday morning, I checked the tape I left on the doors and was relieved to see that it was still where I stuck it. No one had been in the house. We went straight to the office and Montoya's laptop. I checked the email accounts first to make sure there were no new notes in any of those accounts. There was nothing new. I opened his bookmarks file and found links for the three banks listed on his spreadsheet. I clicked on the First Bank of Brodricksburg link, put in the ID and password from the spreadsheet and the account opened, showing a checking and a savings account.

Kathy said. "Let me do this." I got up and let Kathy take my place. Before joining Princeton Accounting Associates, Kathy spent three years as a forensic accountant under the attorney general for the State of New Jersey. That made her better qualified to make sense of Montoya's banking activities than me, so I watched over her shoulder as she examined the account.

"Did you see the name on this account? C&M investments, what do think those initials stand for?" I shook my head, and Kathy continued. "I'm looking at the account activity for the last eighteen months and found something interesting. The current balance in the checking account is $5.00, and the savings account is just over five dollars. The checking account shows several small debit card transactions and two different deposits of $250.00 transferred in from the savings account. The savings account is a different story. The beginning balance eighteen months ago was $211,337.