The whole thing was starting to get to me. Whoever had murdered Mama G and the two missionaries had announced themselves not just as an Aztlaner but specifically as members of that country’s priesthood. They’d done the killings with a deliberate signature, using a highly distinctive weapon and method of mutilating the bodies. It was too heavy-handed to be a frame. Instead it smacked of the deliberate arrogance of someone who felt as confident as if they were on their own turf. And that meant that the killer had nothing but contempt for the Lone Star’s ability to bring him or her to justice. Or for my own efforts.