IN SEPTEMBER 2011, JASON HODGE FINALLY RECEIVED HIS AUTHORIZATION to transfer out of the Laredo RA. He could scarcely hide his joy as he began packing up his desk. Lawson still hadn’t gotten a sense from Villarreal on what he planned to do about Hodge’s replacement. He was worried that he’d appoint someone else besides Perez, who had already been working the case with him for several months.
At home, Perez had talked with her husband, Juan, and his aunt Lydia and deliberated over what to do. Signing on as co-agent would mean long hours away from home. Her husband, an accountant, knew she was excited about the case and encouraged her to do it. But ultimately it was Lydia’s approval that would matter most, since she lived with them and looked after their three kids, ages six, three, and ten months, which was no easy task. Perez knew she owed much to the older woman who had been essential in helping her have both a career and a family. Without her it would have been nearly impossible to work those long hours on the violent crimes squad. Now Perez was asking her for even more time away.
Finally, one night after dinner, Lydia took Perez aside. “If you feel it’s the right thing to do, then do it,” she said. “Don’t worry about the kids. I’ll be here.”
With her blessing, Perez felt a sense of relief. She knew her kids would be in good hands at home while she plunged further into the pursuit of José Treviño and his brothers.
With Perez now fully committed to taking on the case, Lawson knocked on the door of Villarreal’s office. By now Hodge was also advocating for Perez to replace him. All Lawson had to do was convince Villarreal. The blinds were open, as they usually were when his boss was at his desk. Villarreal motioned through the window for him to come inside.
Lawson glanced at the front-page news story in Spanish framed on the wall above Villarreal’s desk. As a street agent in the 1990s, Villarreal had cracked open a major police corruption case in San Juan, Puerto Rico, his crowning achievement. Despite whatever issues Lawson had with his boss, Villarreal was an agent’s agent, and Lawson gave him much of the credit for putting them back on the streets, where they could do real law enforcement work again.
Lawson sat down in the chair across from Villarreal’s desk.
“What’s up?” Villarreal said, looking up from a stack of papers.
“Well, Jason is transferring out of Laredo, which means we’ll need another agent to sign on to the Treviño case,” Lawson said.
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that,” he said. “What about Raul, he’s got SWAT training.”
“I was thinking Alma Perez,” Lawson said.
Villarreal shook his head in the negative. “She’s got kids, and you need someone who’s willing to do the travel.”
“She’s willing. We’ve talked about it, and she wants to do it.”
“Well,” Villarreal said, shrugging. “The case agent knows best. It’s your decision. But what about Juan? He’s worked some cartel cases before. He’d be good.”
“We’ve already been working the case together for a few months,” Lawson said, growing annoyed that Villarreal was refusing to entertain the idea of Perez being his co-agent.
“Well, you know best,” Villarreal said, adopting a conciliatory tone. “But consider Raul or Juan.”
Lawson sensed that he was being dismissed. It had been a frustrating round, with neither one of them conceding in the ring. But he wasn’t about to give up yet. He knew sooner or later Villarreal would see that Perez was the right choice.
He got up from the chair. “Thanks for your time,” he said.
Villarreal nodded, and Lawson closed the door behind him.
Perez’s desk was in view of Villarreal’s office. Lawson wondered if she’d been able to tell that the conversation hadn’t gone well.
“How did it go?” she asked, looking doubtful.
“Let’s just say he didn’t say no.”
“What’s the big deal?” she said. “We’re already working it together anyway.”
“He’ll come around,” Lawson said.