His voice lowered. “Mags, be as fascinated as you like but be careful. Once again a few people will cream billions off the top. Billions. It’s one thing if they do that with money earned, but this is under-the-table government money, your money. It’s a different ball game, more cynical, with political careers at stake, as well as the careers of bankers on top. Mags, people have killed for less.”
“I’ll be careful.”
“Come on out and visit me sometime. Charlotte and I just love it here. We’re like a couple of kids. She’s even got me riding with her.”
“I will.” Mags liked Carl’s wife.
After hanging up, she sat for a time, then returned to her computer to look in the Congressional Record and read what Nevada’s congressman and two senators had said on the floor of Congress, regarding the foreclosure crisis in the state.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
It’s incredible what people steal.” Pete shook his head as he climbed back into the squad car.
“They were expensive tires.”
Pete smiled. “I guess he didn’t take more than he needed. Four.”
A thief had broken into Reno Tires, an immaculate large building filled with product.
It had been determined that four Goodyear Eagle F1s had been taken. These were high-performance tires hardly suited to the current weather conditions. Someone was already planning for warm weather.
“Close to one thousand dollars for a set of tires is a lot of money.” Lonnie was scribbling in his notebook. “Forgot to tell you, Amelia says hi.”
“Hi back at her.” Pete pulled the squad car out into traffic.
Amelia Owen, a high school classmate of Pete’s, was dating Lonnie. She was eight years older than Lonnie, which meant they both experienced a bit of teasing.
As it was near the end of their shift, the two men were headed back to headquarters. Neither Pete nor Lonnie much enjoyed sitting at a desk but sometimes one had to.
Just as Pete sat down to check his emails, a desk officer, Fergie, came by. “The ID came in on that fellow you found over in Cracktown. Name’s Robert Dalrymple. Thirty-five. Unemployed. He worked at Truckee Amalgamated until they went under. That’s it.”
“It’s a long way from Truckee Amalgamated to Cracktown.”
“He wouldn’t be the first guy to turn to drugs to forget his troubles.” Fergie shrugged.
“Report back yet on what was in his system?”
“No.”
“Something doesn’t compute.” Pete rubbed his brow.
“The manner of the murder was brutal, like a warning. That’s consistent with the way drug lords leave messages. Also, the department was tipped off, that’s also part of the M.O., although not always. I don’t know why I can’t quite buy it.” He exhaled, then looked at Fergie. “You have a point, people do stupid things to forget their troubles. Losing your money is big trouble.”
At his desk, Lonnie looked up. “I thought people jumped out of windows when they lost their money or when banks went bust.”
“Amalgamated’s only two stories high.” Fergie laughed.
“Well, he could fling himself off a curbstone,” Lonnie thought out loud.
“Instead he got murdered.” A warning light went off in Pete’s head. “Let’s hope this isn’t the beginning of a trend.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
I feel responsible for this.” Babs spoke to Jeep on the phone in her office.
“I can understand how you’d feel that way but Bunny did the right thing.” Jeep, also in her office, enjoyed the glow and aroma of the fire blazing in the simple fireplace. “I doubt it would do any good for me to talk to Darryl Johnson.”
“I wonder if news coverage will help,” Babs said. “The tough part will be getting some people on Spring Street to talk. They’ll be scared. The attention could backfire, I suppose. It could draw the immigration people there as well as men from the Sheriff’s Department.”
“I expect immigration will be the biggest problem. You know, Babs, let’s rethink this news story idea. I’m not saying we shouldn’t do it, but we’d better be prepared for unintended consequences. Everything is a political football today.”
“Patrick Wentworth will somehow make the most of this,” Babs grumbled.
“What an ambitious little asshole he is.” Jeep didn’t mince words.
“He’d lump everyone down in that neighborhood with drug dealers, illegal immigrants, maybe even the national debt.”
Jeep sat up straighter in her chair. “He’s clever, though. His focus is on urban decay, crime, and the need to clean up before as I believe he said, ‘the contagion spreads.’ He’s also building a war chest.”
“Somebody is good at fund-raising.”
Jeep laughed. “That’s a nice way to put it. Listen, don’t worry about Bunny and Twinkie just right now. I’ll call Darryl. The worst he can say is no. Those two good men shouldn’t be fired because one made a mistake. Now, to switch gears, let’s talk about our deliveries. We can box up food from the casinos and supermarkets that are dry goods near their sell-by date—cereals, cookies, stuff like that. Where we run into trouble is with meats, vegetables, and fruits—exactly what they need most down there. Mags has been checking into the laws. The only way we could deliver that kind of food is if we do it on the sell-by date, and the supermarkets aren’t going to give it to us then. They’re hoping to sell it. And we can’t take anything like that from the casinos since they aren’t food purveyors. In other words, tons of good food goes to waste every day in Reno and no one benefits.”
“It’s all so contradictory, wasteful, and stupid.” Babs felt her face flush.
A long, long silence followed. “Let me think this through, Babs. You’re right. It is wasteful and stupid. I know we’re pushing a stone up the hill facing off against the utilities and now the food laws. We need more time to dig out facts, lean on people. Sometimes in order to do the right thing, you have to ignore the law. Know what I mean?”
“Like Nelson turning a blind eye at Trafalgar,” Babs reasoned to Jeep’s great delight.
After talking to Babs, Jeep called Darryl Johnson. Of course he took her call, everyone did.
She took responsibility even though she hadn’t been the one to talk to Bunny and Twinkie. “Darryl, Babs Gallagher and I made an unwise suggestion to Twinkie and Bunny, moved by the plight of people on Spring Street.”
“I didn’t know that, Jeep. I just knew that they’d been fired for disregarding a company policy. Our new head of that department is a trifle overzealous and he probably wanted to prove he was boss.”
“May I prevail upon you to hire them back? I really feel responsible. They are good men and you won’t find any better in the field. But Darryl, if you could go down there and see what’s happening, you’d know why we behaved as we did.”
“Jeep, I’ll take care of it. George W. is pretty upset, too. We’ll bring them back in a way that saves John Morris’s face.”
“That’s the new guy?”
“Right.”
“I appreciate you hearing me out. I know this is a small matter.”
“Jeep, anything in which you become involved is rarely a small matter.”
“I don’t know about that but I do thank you. And give that beautiful Lolly my best.”
After hanging up on the call, Jeep allowed herself the glow of triumph. Lolly Johnson would be the one to get down to Spring Street. She’d need to wait a bit on that but it wasn’t a bad idea. If Lolly got on board, getting water service to Spring Street might be easier.
The back door swung open. King stood up but didn’t bark.
Within seconds, Baxter was scrambling down the hall, the long carpet runner bunching up behind him.
“Strange cattle tore through our fences!” Baxter announced his great news.
King, ruff up, hurried to the back door.
“Wait a minute, big boy.” Mags, who’d just come in, met him in the kitchen. “Aunt Jeep!” she called out.
Coat still on, Mags reached the open office door. “Cattle all over the place and they aren’t ours. Enrique is in town at the tractor supply.”
“Maybe we can round them up with the ATVs.”
“It’s cold.”
“Be colder on the ATV.” Jeep pulled on her workboots, threw a coat on, and wrapped a scarf around her neck. “Come on. We’ll do the best we can.”
Within minutes, they’d fired up the ATVs in the shed and were roaring across the frozen ground, dodging rocks and sagebrush. Good cattle, Baldies, were scattered in with Jeep’s Herefords. She cut her motor.
The dogs stayed with the humans.
“These belong to Howie Norris. It’s going to take more than the two of us to round them up and drive them back. They aren’t going to tear up the barns. We can leave them.” Jeep decided.
Huge rolls of hay dotted the grazing areas. Good pasture only existed in Nevada if one irrigated. Jeep irrigated two thousand acres of pasture. If she needed to give those irrigated pastures a rest, she turned out the cattle in the rougher parts putting out plenty of hay. Since winter hung on seemingly forever the cattle needed hay. Howie’s cattle were tearing away at the huge hay rolls.
“Want me to call Enrique and tell him to hurry back?”
“Well, call him but he doesn’t need to hurry. So long as we have enough daylight left we can do the job. But let’s go back in. I’ll call Howie.”
Back in the house, Mags didn’t have time to remove her coat. Jeep came back into the kitchen.
“No answer. Better drive over.”
They had to drive on the roads to Howie’s as opposed to making a straight shot, which made it six and a half miles. As they pulled in to the ranch, from the passenger seat Jeep noticed the gates had been left open.
Mags parked the truck near the front door of the cozy old home.
They got out. It seemed colder at Howie’s. He was a bit closer to the base of the Peterson range.
Knocking on the door, Jeep called out, “It’s your neighboring goddess.”
No answer.
“He might be out looking for his cattle,” Mags suggested.
“Bet you’re right.”
The two women walked around to the back where big run-in sheds for the cattle had been built sixty years ago. Solid, they stood despite the winds and snowfalls.
Having heard the truck motor, Zippy ran up from over a small hill. King and Baxter ran toward him, and the dogs disappeared over a slight swell in the ground. Jeep and Mags soon heard them barking.
“Hurry,” Zippy called to the two dogs.
Mags ran ahead, Jeep more or less hopped behind.
Zippy led King and Baxter to Howie, who was facedown on the ground.
“He’s hurt,” Baxter called to Mags.
Zippy was licking the old man’s face, blood trickling down his temple.
Mags reached him quickly, knelt down, took his pulse. He still had one. She called out to Jeep, “Do you have your cell?”
Jeep reached into her coat, pulled it out, and punched in 911.
When she caught up with Mags, she knelt down. “Christ!”
“His pulse is strong but he feels cool.”
“He could have been lying out here for hours. Dammit to hell.” Jeep took off her coat to lay it over him.
“Aunt Jeep, put that back on. Let me do that. I’ve got a heavy sweater on. I’ll go back to the truck and bring another coat.”
The dogs stayed with Howie and Jeep.
The running warmed Mags. The old coat, which was stuffed under the seat, would work just fine. Before she pulled it on, a sheriff’s squad car came down the drive.
“You okay?” Pete’s voice was concerned.
Lonnie got out of the vehicle. “We picked up the distress call and were a lot closer than the rescue squad.”
“Come with me,” Mags said.
The three of them took off running, reaching Howie and Jeep in about five minutes.
Jeep stood up. “I can’t revive him, but he still has a strong pulse.”
Pete knelt down, then very carefully turned Howie over. The blood was from a gash on his head. The frozen ground was splattered with blood.
Ears pricked, the three dogs heard the ambulance.
“Someone’s coming,” King announced.
Lonnie said, “I’ll go back. They might need a hand.”
By the time they had Howie on the stretcher, another twenty minutes had passed. The rescue squad was extra careful, so it took more time.
After they drove off, Jeep, Mags, Pete, and Lonnie stood in front of the old ranch house.
Zippy spoke to King and Baxter, “There’s an old heifer who’s a fence walker. We went out to check her and sure enough she’d just torn down part of the fence. I heard a shot. I turned around and he was facedown. The other cattle all ran out, too. I hurried back and licked his face but he didn’t wake up.”
Wearing a serious expression, Baxter said, “Could you smell anyone?”
“Wind’s blowing in the wrong direction. I heard a car pull out but I was too worried about Poppy to pay much attention.”
“Why shoot Howie? All he has to steal are cattle,” Baxter sharply replied.
“He’ll be okay.” King nuzzled Zippy.
Jeep bent over, putting her hand on Zippy’s glossy head. “You’re coming home with us for a visit until Howie’s back on his feet.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Sitting in the hospital room, holding Howie’s hand, Jeep thought about their young days. Where did the time go? People had asked that question for millennia and no one had found the answer. All Jeep knew was it sure flew by fast.
He’d suffered a slight concussion from when his hard head hit the frozen ground. He’d lain out there long enough to suffer slight hypothermia, as well.
The doctors and nurses fixed him up and cleaned off the blood.
Jeep had been sitting beside him since she’d arrived after leaving Mags and Zippy back at Wings Ranch. With Howie’s wife, Ronnie, gone, Jeep wanted an old friend to be there when he awoke. It’s upsetting to find yourself in a hospital room not knowing why you’re there.
Eyelids fluttered, then opened. His pale blue eyes stared at the ceiling, then he felt Jeep squeeze his hand. Howie looked at his childhood friend.
“Jeepy,” he whispered.
“Howie, thank God you’re okay.”
He struggled, trying to recollect what wouldn’t come. “What happened?” He thought more. “I heard a shot.”
“You’ve got a crease in your head but no real damage. It’s a bullet wound.”
“It hurts like hell.”
“Plus, you got cold. You’re in great shape other than that.”
“All the people who wanted me dead are dead themselves.” He smiled weakly.
“Zippy is with me. Don’t worry about a thing.”
He sat up slightly, so Jeep plumped pillows behind him.
“Couldn’t live without my Zippy.”
“She led us to you.”
“Zippy?”
“Yes, she did. She loves her daddy.”
Tears rolled down Howie’s cheeks at the thought of his dog. “My baby.”
“If you don’t feel like it, we don’t have to talk.”
“My head hurts but I can see. I remember one time playing football years and years ago. I took a pop and I saw a lot more men on the field than the normal number. Made me sick to my stomach, too.”
“And you didn’t leave the field, did you?”
“Hell, no. Nobody did back then.”
“Well, blessed are the cross-eyed for they shall see God twice.”
He smiled, reached for her hand again. “I owe you.”
“You’d do the same for me. You don’t owe me a thing.” She took a breath, smelling the hospital disinfectant. “Your cattle showed up at my ranch. All of them. I called you. No answer, so Mags and I drove over. Couldn’t reach you on the phone s
o I figured you were outside.”
“I was. I’ve got a heifer that’s a fence walker. She gets bored and just plows through the barbed wire. Anyway, I was checking the line and then I don’t remember anything.”
“Well, don’t worry about your cattle. I’ll keep them until you’re back on your feet. Don’t hurry. A little rest will do you good.”
“I could get out of here now.”
“Don’t even think about it. Give yourself a day, then I’ll pick you up.”
He nestled back onto the pillows again. “Damn place is about falling down around my ears. I need new fences. After Ronnie died I couldn’t get in gear, you know.”
“That’s all over now.”
“It is and I thank you and your boys for coming over and fixing stuff up as a Christmas present. I went out and worked with them and realized I needed to work. That and Zippy brought me back.” He touched his bandaged head. “I’m lucky whoever did this wasn’t a better shot.”
“It couldn’t have been an accident, you know, target practice on your property.”
He rubbed his chin, the white stubble rough on his palm. “I’ve been missing a steer or a heifer now and then. I chalked it up to someone needing food. Never found any bones so I know it wasn’t the coyotes. That, and the carcass is so big one coyote can’t drag it off too far, so I figured it was a rustler.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted to make sure. And you have lots of folks around. Anyone’d be a damned fool to mess with your herd. But someone knows I’m alone. It’s not that hard to cut a cow out in the middle of the night, especially if they’re up in the back. Even Zippy won’t hear them. I’ve been out checking every day. Maybe someone was going to rustle more than one heifer.”
“It’s rough territory.” She leaned closer to him. “They’d have a hell of a time cutting cattle out of the herd, driving them to a safe place without leaving an easy trail to follow.”
“You know with the price of beef the highest it’s been in half a century, I’m surprised there hasn’t been more rustling. Whole herds, I mean, although it’s harder to do in Nevada than Montana.”
Murder Unleashed Page 6