According to a review by the State Auditor’s Office, the salaries of state law enforcement officers in DPS, the Alcoholic Beverage Commission and other agencies lag as much as 20 percent behind those of big-city police.

The sheriff of El Paso County on how his job has changed in the wake of rampant violence in Juárez, whether National Guard troops are needed on the border and the practical effect of an immigration law like Arizona's.

Efforts to salvage the problem-plagued Driver Responsibility Program ultimately may not shield it from the wrath of its many detractors, including at least one lawmaker who believes we "shouldn't hesitate in getting rid of it."

For years, the sister cities of Presidio and Ojinaga watched jealously as other border cities prospered. Now when they look east to the Rio Grande Valley and west to El Paso and Juárez, they see fear and bloodshed, and the envy fades to thankfulness. The poverty and isolation that have held them back keep the violence at bay. But for how long?

For decades, residents of impoverished Mexican border towns have toiled in the cotton and alfalfa fields or in the giant factories of Juárez. Those seeking more than paupers’ wages worked for the cartels. Yet their communities remained peaceful until the horror of the drug war bled into the farmland. As the violence worsens, law enforcement has rushed to both sides of the Rio Grande — but greater security brings little comfort and little hope.

Law enforcement and school officials discuss the changes that have happened in Fort Hancock as its sister city in Mexico, El Porvenir, has been overwhelmed with cartel violence.

As the savage drug war rages on in Juárez, both the fun and the business have fled, bringing to El Paso, its sleepy sister city, a vibrant new culture and an economic boost. In a tragic irony, a measure of El Paso’s recent fortune results directly from the suffering of Juárez. But experts warn that El Paso leaders rely on Juárez’s decline at their own risk. Ultimately, as Juárez goes, so goes El Paso, they say.

Judge Sharon Keller has been pilloried as the villain of the Texas criminal justice system, but supporters credit the chief of the state's highest criminal court with working to ensure fair trials for impoverished defendants.

After a series of investigative reports revealed serious problems with the quality of legal representation for indigent defendants on Texas death row, lawmakers created the Office of Capital Writs. California lawyer Brad Levenson will be moving to Texas to open the new office and attempt to restore some confidence in the state's busy system of capital punishment.