The guard shack at the entry of the club’s parking lot was attended by a man who recognized Armando. Lifting the gate, he waved him through. Taking in the outside of the Emerald Club, I tried my best to have an open mind. It wasn’t like the cartel didn’t have the same type of businesses. While I’d heard stories about Wanderland, I’d never been inside.

Armando parked the SUV, got out, and opened my door.

“Are you going to walk me inside?” I asked. ...