Over the span of four years, federal investigators estimated millions of dollars stolen from Mexican taxpayers passed through one South Texas bank. When they followed the trail, it led to real estate, cars, and airplanes. But in 2018, those investigations suddenly stopped.

In 1910, East Texas saw one of America’s deadliest post-Reconstruction racial purges. One survivor’s descendants have waged an uphill battle for generations to unearth that violent past.

On the suicide crisis in rural East Texas.

Unregulated dams across Texas are increasingly failing—putting people and property in jeopardy.

Inside the Rio Grande Valley’s amputation crisis.

How Texas’s decade-long border security operation has turned South Texas into one of the most heavily policed and surveilled places in the nation.

An investigation into the mass graves in Texas that contain the remains of migrants.

A dispatch from Eloise Woods, a natural burial ground where bodies are consigned directly to the earth.

The informal network of volunteers that keep abortion access open in Texas.

Turning down the huge amounts of money a fracking contract can offer is always the beginning of a fight.

The mysterious death of Alfred Wright in the shadow of a town’s history of racial violence.

Jeffrey Holliman was deep in debt and out of options. So he took to the woods outside his small East Texas town. Then he started taking from his neighbors.

An essay on those who don’t get caught by health care’s so-called safety net.

How the heir to a horse racing empire became an informant on the Zetas cartel as they pushed their money laundering operations into the lucrative quarter horse trade.

A look back at the 2008 raid on Warren Jeffs’ polygamous Mormon sect.

Murder in the Juarez Valley:

A few weeks after Saul Reyes and his family fled Mexico, I drove to an immigrant shelter in downtown El Paso to see him. As the former city secretary of Guadalupe, Saul had once been in charge of recording the births and deaths of everyone in his hometown. He’d taken it upon himself now to collect every single name of those who had died or disappeared in Guadalupe since the killing began in 2008. Through media reports and meetings with the many valley exiles now living in Texas, Saul had compiled a list of the town’s dead and disappeared. Showing me the book, he turned page after page of names. So far he had counted 180 dead, 26 disappeared, and eight unknown bodies dumped in his small town of 3,000 people. “There are a lot more, but these are the ones I’ve been able to collect,” he said. In his careful, spidery script, he had written on one page the names of his six family members.

The low-key swingers of sleepy Amarillo, Texas find themselves relentlessly harassed by a militant Christian group.