METH MAKERS ARE THINKING ABOUT MONEY

Let's do the math.

Methamphetamine sells for $100 a gram.

There are 454 grams in a pound.

That's $45,400.

Now, let's imagine you could make 100 pounds.

That's $4,540,000.

When cops raided a Temecula home last week, they found a 2-pound stash and
more than $150,000 in cash. They also discovered enough chemicals and
equipment to manufacture 100 pounds of meth.

"We're seeing more and more of this," said Riverside County sheriff's Sgt.
Steve Rinks, who characterized the bust as one of the largest this year.
"These people are going into nice neighborhoods and either buying homes or
renting them for two or three months to cook and contaminate it. Then they
disappear," he said.

But in Temecula? In Redhawk?

A house down the block from the alleged Corte Lerma drug lab is on the
market for $265,000.

We've all heard the stories of businessmen who sprinkle a little pick-me-up
in their morning coffee, about tweakers in Beemers and about regular folks
who toot on their lunch hour.

But no matter how much we hear about meth -- about how people of all ages,
races and economic classes are strung out, about how easy it is the
manufacture, about how Riverside County is the methamphetamine capital of
the world -- you can't help but be surprised when a lab is taken down in a
neighborhood flanked by a golf course.

And what's even more incredible is that cops -- who also raided three other
Temecula homes looking for drugs -- said the scale of the operation and the
amount of cash on hand suggest it was being controlled by a Mexican drug
cartel.

Many neighbors were afraid to talk. They said they feared the cartel would
come calling if their names show up in the newspaper.

Neighbors living in fear from drug thugs.

In Temecula. In Redhawk.

Listen to one man, who requested anonymity for the best possible reason:

"You're messin' with the Mafia there, my friend. I'm not going to endanger
my family. All I can say is we need police protection, so instead of coming
into neighborhoods like this, they'll go into the hills."

A mother, standing in the shade of her doorway, looked uncomfortable as her
17-month-old daughter played at her feet.

"We heard cars screeching down the street and doors slamming and yelling,"
she said, describing the bust that went down about 9:45 p.m. on May 12.
"Before you know it, there were fire engines and sheriff's cars everywhere.
They were here until 9 the next morning."

None of the neighbors I talked to suspected a thing.

It's true, two young men lived together in the house. They drove nice cars,
Volkswagen Jettas and Club Cab pickups, but nothing that stuck out on a
street with SUVs and Volvos. And they weren't around much, maybe a couple
days each month.

Shoot, based on that information, I'd say the 27-year-old man who was
arrested sounds more like the CEO of an Internet startup. Police are still
looking for the second guy.

Rinks said it can be hard to tell, but signs were there.

Deputies wheeled off a 35-gallon trash can full of chemical byproducts used
in the operation. He said there was a distinctive smell inside the home and
on the back porch.

"I was surprised none of the neighbors suspected anything," Rinks said.
"There must have been a strong chemical odor. But when we walk up, we know
what we're looking for."

He also said neighbors probably are not in danger from the cartel.

"If I was somebody in the organization, or one of their friends, yeah, I
would be concerned," Rinks said. "But I can't see any risk of retribution
for the neighbors."

Richard Harvey, who lives across from the house with hazardous-materials
signs on the front door, said the entire episode reinforced his longing for
a slower and simpler time.

"Maybe if we knew our neighbors a little better, this kind of thing
wouldn't happen," he said. "Maybe if we had block parties on Memorial Day
and Fourth of July, we can avoid these problems."

I doubt it, and here's why:

$4,540,000.