by Dave Stanton
The day grew late, and I busied myself with yard work. Then I lifted weights in my garage and responded to an e-mail from a restaurant owner who suspected his employees of theft. At five thirty, my cell rang. It was Marcus Grier.
“Sawyer’s not going to jail,” he said.
“What?”
“Half of the force is at his house. His wife shot him, then killed herself. A murder-suicide. A first for South Lake Tahoe, I think.”
“Are you there?”
“No. Plainclothes is handling it. I’m at home, and that’s where I’m staying tonight. This is over, thank god.”
“That’s too bad,” I said slowly. “I was looking forward to going to the trial.”
“Really? Well, if you’re such a glutton for punishment, you can go to his funeral instead.”
After Grier hung up, I sat at my picnic bench and stared out at the landscape. I don’t know how long I sat there. Finally, when the sun dropped from its high perch in the sky and fell behind a band of clouds along the ridgeline, I went inside and finished my final report and bill for Ryan Addison. I double-checked the math and spent a few minutes scanning over the case details. Then I mixed a drink and finished it before I went back to my desk and hit the “send” button.
Epilogue
Cody called the following afternoon. “Sorry I’ve been off the air for a bit,” he said. “I’ve been on a roll, and I just picked up my liver from the lost and found at the Last Call.”
“You dried out yet?” I asked.
“Oh, yeah. Back in training, nothing but good, clean living for me. Listen, I just had lunch with Ryan Addison and Lindsey. Ryan’s broad, Ramona, the one with the big knockers, was also there.”
“What’d they have to say?”
“They seem like one happy family. Lindsey says she thinks she’s worked all the negative emotion out of her system, and she’s ready to start dating and move on with her life.”
“That’s good to hear. What are the Addisons still doing in San Jose?”
“They’ve been visiting Duante the last four days. Addison told the hospital they were there to pray over him. He claimed the only way they could cleanse themselves was to forgive Duante.”
I laughed out loud. “Do you believe that?”
“I may be a drunk, but I’m not an idiot. It’s a moot point anyway, because Duante Tucker expired this morning. The Addisons were in his room when he died.”
“You don’t think—”
“That they killed him?” said Cody. “No, not that anyone could prove. I doubt their words provided him much comfort, though.”
“They probably threatened to torture him to death after his release,” I said.
“Or something like that. Anyway, I got your share of the money from Addison.”
“What money?”
“The hundred grand cash he offered if Tucker ended up dead.”
“I told him I wanted nothing to do with that, Cody.”
“Yeah, I know, you’re a pillar of ethics. You want me to keep it all? I’ll probably booze myself six feet under with all that dough, and it will be on you.”
“That’s the dumbest rationale I’ve ever heard.”
“I’ve got your share in a briefcase in a safe deposit box at the bank down the street from my office. You can pick it up when you’re in town next. Forty-five grand.”
“I thought it was fifty.”
“That was before I put aside five to cover a week vacation at a luxury resort down in Cabo. I hooked up again with Heidi-ho. You remember her, right? We want to go next week. Tell Candi to pack her bags.”
“How did this all come about?”
“It was the result of deep contemplation. Like, I worked hard and got shot and finished a case, and now I deserve a vacation. Profound, huh?”
“Did you hear anything on Landers?” I asked.
“Oh, yeah, my good buddy,” Cody said. “He’s on unpaid leave, and the FBI is building condos in his colon. I doubt he can talk his way out this time. He’s circling the drain.”
“I guess that’s another reason to celebrate.”
“Fuckin’-A, brother. We’ll see you in Mexico.”
• • •
And that’s how things worked out that summer in California. I may have had some brief illusion that the world was a better place with people like Duante Tucker, Lawrence Tucker, and Russ Landers either dead or out of commission. But one look at the evening news put that farce to rest. Suicide bombings were still a daily event in Iraq, Iran was moving forward with plans to develop nuclear weapons, civil war was raging in Syria, and with the departure of US troops, opium cultivation in Afghanistan had flourished to the point that the country had become “the world’s first true narco-state.”
But those problems are on the other side of the globe, right? It’s easy to think the strife that exists in underdeveloped countries doesn’t apply to the United States. Until you turn on the television and learn that two young Russian immigrants detonated bombs at the Boston Marathon finish line and killed three (including two eight-year-old children) and maimed scores more. There was no evidence the bombers were connected to any known domestic right-wing terrorist organizations. No affiliation to neo-Nazi militias or White Nationalist or Holocaust Denial groups. Nor were they linked to black separatists, gay hate, or racist skinhead factions. For twenty-four hours, the nation wondered what could have possibly motivated two young men to commit such an atrocity. The authorities then announced they’d linked the bombers to a radical brand of Islam. All indications were the pair had become radicalized without any direct support from al-Qaida; instead, they’d acted independently, planning and executing the bombings on their own.
And that’s the way it is these days. Even though I live in a country where the most grievous crimes seem trivial compared to the genocide and mass killings commonplace in less fortunate regions of the world, there’s no shortage of evil here. There will always exist a percentage of people who are driven by greed or hate or insanity or some diabolical combination of those traits. These individuals cause most of the world’s grief, and in doing so, they provide me both a paycheck and job security.
If in some small way I contribute to the greater good, then I’m glad for that. I’ve read the human mind will eventually evolve into a form that universally embraces peace and rejects all things evil. The projected time frame for that process is thousands of years. In the meantime, I don’t see any shortage of work on the horizon.
Regardless, I wake every day and walk out my front door and gaze over a landscape that I consider as beautiful as any on this planet. The cool, clean mountain air fills my lungs, and in those moments, I never think about anything except how lucky I am to be alive.
Overall, I’d say that’s a pretty good deal. So why complain?
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Born in Detroit, Michigan, in 1960, Dave Stanton moved to Northern California in 1961. He attended San Jose State University and received a BA in journalism in 1983. Over the years, he worked as a bartender, newspaper advertising salesman, furniture mover, debt collector, and technology salesman. He has two children, Austin and Haley. He and his wife, Heidi, liv
e in San Jose, California.
Stanton is the author of five novels, all featuring private investigator Dan Reno and his ex-cop buddy, Cody Gibbons.
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More Dan Reno Novels:
STATELINE
Cancel the wedding–the groom is dead.
When a tycoon’s son is murdered the night before his wedding, the enraged and grief-stricken father offers investigator Dan Reno (that’s Reno, as in no problemo) a life-changing bounty to find the killer. Reno, nearly broke, figures he’s finally landed in the right place at the right time. It’s a nice thought, but when a band of crooked cops get involved, Reno finds himself not only earning every penny of his paycheck, but also fighting for his life.
Who committed the murder, and why? And what of the dark sexual deviations that keep surfacing? Haunted by his murdered father and a violent, hard drinking past, Reno wants no more blood on his hands. But a man’s got to make a living, and backing off is not in his DNA. Traversing the snowy alpine winter in the Sierras and the lonely deserts of Nevada, Reno must revert to his old ways to survive. Because the fat bounty won’t do him much good if he’s dead…
Available on Amazon.com: http://bit.ly/Stateline-Amazon
Dying for the Highlife
Jimmy Homestead’s glory days as a high school stud were a distant memory. His adulthood had amounted to little more than temporary jobs, cheap boarding houses, and discount whiskey. But he always felt he was special, and winning a $43 million lottery confirmed it.
With all that money, everything is great for Jimmy—until people from his past start coming out of the woodwork. First, his sexy stepmother, who seduced him as a teenager. Then his uncle, just released from Folsom after a five-year jolt for securities fraud, a crime that bankrupted Jimmy’s father. Mix in a broke ex-stripper and a down-on-his luck drug dealer, both seeking payback over transgressions Jimmy thought were long forgotten.
Caught in the middle are investigator Dan Reno and his good buddy Cody Gibbons, two guys just trying to make an honest paycheck. Reno, straining to keep his home out of foreclosure, thinks that’s his biggest problem. But his priorities change when Gibbons and Jimmy are kidnapped by a gang of cartel thugs out for a big score. Fighting to save his friend’s life, Reno is drawn into a mess that leaves dead bodies scattered all over northern Nevada.
Available on Amazon.com: http://bit.ly/TheHighlife
Speed Metal Blues
Bounty hunter Dan Reno never thought he’d be the prey.
It’s a two-for-one deal when a pair of accused rapists from a New Jersey-based gang surface in South Lake Tahoe. The first is easy to catch, but the second, a Satanist suspected of a string of murders, is an adversary unlike any Reno has faced. After escaping Reno’s clutches in the desert outside of Carson City, the target vanishes. That is, until he makes it clear he intends to settle the score.
To make matters worse, the criminal takes an interest in a teenage boy and his talented sister, both friends of Reno’s. Wading through a drug-dealing turf war and a deadly feud between mobsters running a local casino, Reno can’t figure out how his target fits in with the new outlaws in town. He only knows he’s hunting for a ghost-like adversary calling all the shots.
The more Reno learns more about his target, the more he’s convinced that mayhem is inevitable unless he can capture him quickly. He’d prefer to do it clean, without further bloodshed. But sometimes that ain’t in the cards, especially when Reno’s partner Cody Gibbons decides it’s time for payback.
Available on Amazon.com: http://bit.ly/SpeedMetalBlues
Dark Ice
Two murdered girls, and no motive…
While skiing deep in Lake Tahoe’s backcountry, Private Eye Dan Reno finds the first naked body, buried under fresh snow. Reno’s contacted by the grieving father, who wants to know who murdered his daughter, and why? And how could the body end up in such a remote, mountainous location? The questions become murkier when a second body is found. Is there a serial killer stalking promiscuous young women in South Lake Tahoe? Or are the murders linked to a different criminal agenda?
Searching for answers, Reno is accosted by a gang of racist bikers with a score to settle. He also must deal with his pal, Cody Gibbons, who the police consider a suspect. The clues lead to the owner of a strip club and a womanizing police captain, but is either the killer?
The bikers up the ante, but are unaware that Cody Gibbons has Reno’s back at any cost. Meanwhile, the police won’t tolerate Reno’s continued involvement in the case. But Reno knows he’s getting close. And the most critical clue comes from the last person he’d suspect.
Available on Amazon.com: http://bit.ly/DarkIce