Free Winning Texas by Nancy Stancill Page B

main building was a low, dirty-white stucco house with a few outbuildings behind it. He knew Jarvis had acquired the foreclosed property recently at a courthouse-steps sale. Spud had described it as his first and last Texas home. To Krause, it looked like a far cry from paradise.
    As he drove into the rutted driveway, he could see the balding figure of Jarvis puttering in the front yard. His elongated arms and legs always hung out of clothes that weren ’ t quite long enough and he had an old man ’ s protruding belly. Krause wasn ’ t sure why he ’ d been nicknamed Spud, but knew it had something to do with an impoverished childhood on an Iowa potato farm. He ’ d come to Laredo as a young man and quickly perceived that it needed a dose of fun. The first of his topless clubs was a hit and he followed up with several satellites, quickly saturating the small city. Across the Rio Grande, virgin territory beckoned and he was eager to plumb its heights – or depths – with adult entertainment. Nuevo Laredo was more than twice the size of Laredo with an even higher quotient of fun-loving visitors, so it was easy to establish outposts there. But the growth of violent drug organizations along the border had stopped Jarvis ’ s Mexican expansion. He ’ d reached a d é tente with several groups in the mid-1980s, and in a grudging sign of respect, they even paid him some go-away money.
    Krause had sought out Jarvis ’ s advice more than a decade ago after acquiring his first Texas Girls club. He ’ d gone down to Laredo to visit Jarvis ’ s Triple-X Clubs and adopted some profitable practices, including bringing in live bands on weekends and offering a premium menu to attract a higher class of customers. When Jarvis confided a few years ago that he was unloading a few clubs, Krause bought two, glad to get a foothold in South Texas. By then, the Laredo entrepreneur was pushing seventy, had met the love of his life and wanted to spend his declining years with his beautiful Salvadoran dancer. Daria del Fuego, now in her late thirties, remarkably had reciprocated his affection. They ’ d married and moved to the ranch.
    “ Welcome to Paradise, ” Jarvis said.
    “ Thanks, guy, ” Krause said, squeezing his liver-spotted hand. “ Great place. All you need is some Longhorns. ”
    “ Got me a half-dozen of those babies. We ’ ll drive out to the pasture to see them later. ”
    Krause thought his friend looked more ancient and cadaverous than ever. Jarvis had always reminded him of a sad mortician until something struck him as funny. Then he ’ d erupt in maniacal laughter that went on a shade too long for Krause ’ s comfort.
    The interior of the ranch ’ s house was almost as plain as the exterior, with a motley collection of furniture that looked like somebody threw it in with the sale of the property. But Krause was surprised to see that the landscape outside the back door was fancy. The newly constructed patio area was paved in multi-colored stone with an outdoor kitchen. A large, custom-built pool included a float-up, thatched bar at one end and several lanes for swimming laps at the other. A sprinkler system nourished palm trees, red-flowering plants and St. Augustine grass, the only variety hardy enough to flourish in the torrid climate.
    “ Fantastic patio, ” Krause said, settling into a shaded chair. “ Never pictured you as the sort of guy who ’ d hang out by the pool. Must be Daria ’ s idea, right? ”
    “ Yeah, that girl loves her swimming and grilling. Whatever Daria loves, Daria gets. ”
    As if on cue, his wife opened the back door, carrying a tray of beers and snacks. Through her lacy black cover-up, Krause could see a white bikini on Daria ’ s well-toned body. But he knew not to look for long, because Jarvis could turn jealous.
    “ Hola, Kyle, ” she said, extending her cheek for a kiss. “ Thank you for coming to pick up my women. Juliana will like them. ”
    “ Where are they? ”
    “