A Nose for Justice

by Rita Mae Brown

  “I learned that the hard way but, Aunt Jeep, some people are motivated by lust, some by greed, some by power. Seems to me the ones who are greedy, the ones who want power, win.”

  “They do, but can they hold on to it once they get it? How long did the Wall Street boom last? Twelve years? Even states with huge internal machines of oppression like the old Soviet system didn’t last a century.” She paused, then her voice rose. “This is a fight worth fighting. It’s a fight not just for the physical space we know as Nevada, it’s a fight for the soul of Nevada.”

  “Do you think people have souls?” Baxter asked King.

  “Sure. Most of them forget it, though.”

  “I think so, too.” Baxter stiffened his legs. “King, there are headlights coming right for us.”

  Mags, with quick reflexes, dropped a wheel off Red Rock Road, so they teetered on the snowy shoulder.

  The SUV just missed swiping them. The driver slammed on the gas and sped away.

  “Damn, he was headed right for us!” Mags exploded. “I couldn’t see who it was but it was a white SUV.”

  “Looked like a Toyota 4Runner.” Jeep inhaled, grateful they hadn’t rolled off the road.

  Mags wisely did not turn the wheel sharply to the left. She eased her foot off the gas and kept steering along the road, then gently turned the wheel left until they were fully back on the road.

  Mags turned around. “You guys okay?”

  “Yep,” they replied.

  “Drunk!” Mags exclaimed.

  “I don’t think so, sweetie. That was deliberate.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “Anything?” Pete asked Lonnie, who was hunched over a department computer.

  “Checked out all the local green groups. Not one of them advocates violence, at least not on their websites. Pretty much what you’d figure.”

  “What about the list of water rights transfers over the last six months?”

  Lonnie pointed to four papers to the right of his computer. “Names, prices—information kindly provided to us by Sam Peruzzi’s research.”

  “Good.” Pete scooped them up and read them. “Here’s someone in Portland, Oregon, who bought water rights down in what will become Horseshoe Estates.” He ran his finger over the list of other names. “Silver State Resource Management. Another one sold to Silver State Resource Management in the soon-to-be development. Here’s one sold to a man in Fallon. He must have had megabucks. That price for ten acres was two hundred thousand dollars. Jeep Reed picked up some water rights along Dry Valley Creek. Tomorrow I’ll run out and talk with her. She’s a deep well, that one. I think she may be able to help us with Sam Peruzzi. She knows everyone.”

  Lonnie looked as if he were about to break out laughing. “You expect me to believe that?”

  “What? That Jeep knows everybody?”

  “You want to see Mags.” Lonnie smiled slyly.

  “Uh.” Pete blushed. “I wouldn’t mind, but I really do want to talk to Jeep. You can come along.”

  “No. You can be the big bad cop.” Lonnie spoke in a falsetto voice. “Oh, you’re so big and strong. Can you shoot that gun?”

  Pete pushed him on the back. “Anyone ever tell you you sound good as a girl?”

  “You interested?”

  Pete shook his head and returned to his desk. He dialed the Portland number and got an answering machine. “Hello, this is Deputy Pete Meadows in Reno. If you’ll call me collect, I’d like to ask you some questions about the water rights you bought outside town. We’ve had an incident in which some pumping equipment was vandalized, and I wanted to ask a few questions relating to your recent purchase.”

  “Liar.”

  “Hey, there could be a connection to the pump explosions. No point starting off with murder and by the way, Mr. Ranculli, your name was found on the victim’s computer.” Pete leaned back in his chair, then sat up straight. “Lonnie, what about Peruzzi’s computer? Evans, the officer in Susanville, took it off Peruzzi’s computer, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Jesus Christ. Come over here and hit me. I am so bloody stupid.” Before Lonnie could reply, Pete dialed the Susanville Sheriff’s Department. “Hello, this is Deputy Pete Meadows down in Reno. Could I speak to Sergeant Evans?”

  Randall Evans got on the line. After they exchanged greetings, Pete asked, “You combed through Sam Peruzzi’s computer?”

  “Yes, I did. I think he might’ve been the only man whose hard drive I’ve emptied out who did not view porn.”

  “Is that right?” Pete was amused. “Thank you for making the call on his wife. I’m sure it was tough.”

  “He was a good guy. Good people. My wife’s over there every day. I hope you catch the bastard, then just give me five minutes alone in his cell.”

  “I’ll remember that, Sergeant Evans. What kind of computer did Mr. Peruzzi use?”

  “He had a Toshiba in his home office. And another one at the garage.”

  “Were these laptops?”

  “No. Sam traveled with his laptop, his pager, and his BlackBerry. He was the most in-touch person I’ve ever met. But I didn’t see the laptop. His wife thinks he had it with him.”

  “We didn’t find it. Thank you for your time. I promise when we catch the perp, you will be the second person I call.”

  “Who will be the first?” Sergeant Evans assumed it would be the sheriff of Washoe County.

  “His wife.” Pete hung up the phone.

  “I never thought about the laptop,” Lonnie said.

  “Walter De Quille mentioned it. It’s so damned obvious.” Pete slammed his hand on the desk.

  “What?”

  “We really need to know what’s on Sam Peruzzi’s laptop.”

  “Bet the killer has destroyed it by now. Once he got what he needed.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. Not everyone is as good with a computer as you are. He may not have cracked all Sam Peruzzi’s passwords.”

  “He can hire a fifth grader to do that.” Lonnie, a whiz at computers, couldn’t imagine someone who wasn’t.

  Pete checked the calendar on his desk, right next to his rodeo photos—he loved the rodeo. It was December 30. He dreaded tomorrow. On Christmas, people get overloaded, possibly cranky, but on New Year’s Eve they just get drunk.

  Lonnie swiveled in his chair to face his partner. “Let’s go back to the Jolly Roger. The manager and the maid were so upset at finding the body, maybe they overlooked something. They’ll be calmer now.”

  “Anyone ever tell you you have good ideas?”

  “Only the women in my life.”

  “You wish.”

  Within a half hour they were sitting in Kyle Kamitsis’s cramped motel office. Indeed, he was calmer.

  “Mr. Kamitsis, the night Sam Peruzzi died, did you notice any strange cars in your parking lot? I would guess you recognize the vehicles of young, long-term lodgers.”

  “Everyone who checks in that has a car or truck must register it. So I have the make, model, and license plate numbers.”

  “Could I have the records for that day?”

  “Sure.” At the file cabinet, Kyle pulled out the handwritten forms each guest filled out. He bellowed for his assistant, an extremely fat lady wearing a colorful silk scarf.

  “Shirley, will you copy these for the deputy?”

  “Right.” Shirley smiled at the two young men and then disappeared into a tiny room housing a fax, papers, office odds and ends, plus a shelf filled with bags of potato chips.

  “Now that things have quieted down, do you recall anything unusual about that night?” Pete continued his questioning.

  “It was cold. There’s a lot less partying when it’s that cold and the weather’s bad.”

  “Is there usually a lot of partying here?”

  Kyle shrugged. “Usually it’s just couples but a few times it’s been a real gang bang.”

  Pete laughed a little. “I imagine you’ve seen everything.”

  �
�That I have. I’ve seen guys dressed up looking just as beautiful as the most gorgeous babes you’ve ever laid eyes on. You can barely tell, although sometimes the hands and feet give ’em away. Bigger.”

  “Ah.” Pete acted as though this had never occurred to him.

  “They have electrolysis, the best ones. No hair. A few still have a prominent Adam’s apple, but a lot don’t. Tell you something, that plastic surgery works miracles.”

  “If policework ever fails, I suppose I might have a career as a chorus girl.” Pete joked, to put Kyle at ease.

  “You’d be one big girl.” Kyle enjoyed it. “Ah, thanks, Shirl.” He took the copies from her as she retreated into her tiny lair. A second later, they heard a game show blare out from a TV. “Here you go.” Kyle handed over the copied documents.

  “Thanks. You never know when something will turn up. Tiny leads can turn into big ones.”

  “Any luck so far?”

  “We know a great deal more about the deceased. He was a good, well-liked family man.”

  “You’d be surprised at the number of people who come through here who say they have good marriages and then wind up with the chorus girl or boy.” He grinned mischievously.

  “I don’t think Mr. Peruzzi had time for chorus girls, if he was so inclined. Back to the cars. Anything strike you as odd? Maybe a vehicle that was here for a few moments but not a guest?”

  “A Suburban unloaded some people, then left. The other one, I think it was a Toyota SUV, maybe a Lexus. Didn’t look too closely, plus by then, the snow was coming down fast.” Kyle blinked. “Come to think of it, that driver was a little odd. Couldn’t see who it was, male or female, nothing like that. Sometimes the girls meet up here with a trick. But this SUV drove slowly around the lot, then left.”

  “Might be important.” Pete wanted Kyle to focus. “Do you belong to any conservation or environmental groups?”

  “Me, no, but I believe in all that stuff.” He rolled his fingers, a habit. “We’ve got to do something.”

  “I agree. You’ve been very helpful. Do you think I could talk again to the maid who found Mr. Peruzzi?”

  “Sure. Shirley, find Tandy will you?” Kyle called out, then turned to Pete. “I can’t pronounce her name so I call her Tandy. A sweet kid.”

  That she was, and quite a pretty one, too. Pete didn’t ask to see her papers. Why cause the girl to panic if she was here illegally, plus that wasn’t his task. He actually hated the Board of Immigration.

  Pete stood up when Tandy entered the room, quite nervous. Lonnie also stood up.

  “Tandy? May I call you Tandy?” he asked, his deep voice reassuring.

  She nodded and took a seat where Kyle directed her. “Tandy, don’t worry yourself, you’re fine. These were the officers who answered the call when you found that man’s body.”

  Pete’s voice was gentle. “Tandy, now that you’ve had some time since your unfortunate discovery, is there anything that comes to mind that you might have overlooked due to the shock?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Little things like was the bathroom a mess? Was he a neat person instead? Did you see a laptop plugged in anywhere?” He turned to Kyle. “Does this place have wireless? Can people get on the Internet?”

  “Ah, no. But if they bring their own extension cord, they can get dial-up service. We don’t provide it, though.”

  Pete smiled at Tandy. “Anything?”

  “Señor Peruzzi was very neat. He had not taken a shower.”

  “Did you see him enter the room after he checked in?”

  “No, sir.”

  “If you think of anything, you call me.” Pete handed her his card, as did Lonnie. “Oh, one more thing. Tandy, do you believe in conservation, environmental control?”

  She looked puzzled, so Shirley hollered out in Spanish.

  Tandy nodded vigorously. “Sí. Yes.”

  Pete smiled again. “I do, too. The reason I’m asking is that the man you found was a hard worker for these causes. We think there may be a connection.”

  “You do?” Kyle’s eyes widened. From the next room, Shirley turned down the sound to her game show. She appeared at the door, leaning against the doorjamb.

  Pete looked at the three motel employees intently. “For some industries, there are millions at stake.”

  “Pigs.” Shirley put her hands on her hips. “They’re all pigs. I think we should bomb Wall Street.”

  “The terrorists were damn close,” Pete replied. “Mr. Peruzzi cared about wildlife and about sustainable agriculture. He rubbed some people the wrong way. He seems to have been an idealistic and committed man. One liked by many. He would have been glad to know you all care about the environment,” Pete said genially.

  “Boy, isn’t that something?” Shirley replied. “We figured it was the usual, drugs or a heist.”

  “His wallet had money in it,” Kyle said, as he was quite accustomed to Shirley’s many opinions.

  “But you don’t know what else he brought to that room,” Shirley fired back. “Something else could have been stolen.”

  “Ma’am, you’ve got a point there. It could have been a simple robbery, but we suspect it’s much more than that.” He smiled at Tandy, who stared into his handsome face with rapt attention. “Every so often, a tiny detail pushes us in the right direction. Well, thank you all. I hope you have a happy and prosperous New Year.”

  “Prosperous?” Shirley snorted. “Those bastards on Wall Street took all the money.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Mags jumped down into the trenches of the dug-out barn. Enrique had at last finished digging. The pipes, neatly stacked against the inside wall, would be laid below the stalls after New Year’s.

  King hopped down after Mags.

  “Come on, little guy.” From below, she picked up the wire-haired dachshund and set him down in the large hole. “Let’s go over this once more.”

  “Why are beads so important?” Baxter wondered.

  “Think that’s what they have to find out,” King replied.

  Using a bright LED flashlight, Mags slowly paced the area. She’d already sifted the piles of dirt using a four-foot-square sieve that Enrique had built for her. Set on cinder blocks, she would dump dirt on it and go over the pile with a cutoff 2×4. She’d found old halter buckles, bits of horseshoe nails, a brass fitting off a horse collar. The only human detritus that had turned up was a Zippo lighter.

  “All right. I guess there’s nothing more to be found.” She lifted Baxter back out of the dug-out section.

  King jumped out. “Mice in the pipes.”

  Baxter dashed after him, scooting right into one of the pipes. King excitedly watched as a mouse and Baxter emerged from the other end. The mouse quickly darted into a hole by the side of the barn.

  “Nearly had him!” Baxter exulted.

  “Next time I’ll know to stand at the other end of the pipe,” King said.

  They returned to the house to find Jeep and Pete sitting at the kitchen table.

  Pete stood up when Mags walked in. “Hello.”

  “Hi.” She looked from Pete to her aunt. “Has he found out?”

  “Found out what?” Pete continued standing, looking at Mags inquiringly.

  “My Aunt Jeep’s a wild woman,” Mags replied as she hung up her coat.

  “Jeep, is this true?” he asked.

  “I hope so,” Jeep answered.

  “Is this business, or can I join you?” Mags inquired.

  “A little bit of business, but sit down, both of you,” her great-aunt said.

  Trying not to look at Mags, it took Pete a moment to remember why he’d come. “I’ve been chasing down sales of water rights in the last year and saw that you bought the rights to three hundred acres along Dry Valley Creek.”

  “I did,” answered Jeep.

  “Did anyone else try to buy these rights that you know about?”

  “Craig Locke for Silver State, but the land’s owner b
elieves, as many of us do, that we should hold on to our rights for agriculture. He just ran into money problems.”

  “I can understand that,” Pete replied ruefully.

  “Aunt Jeep, tell him about getting run off the road last night.”

  She hesitated, so Mags continued. “We were deliberately run off Red Rock Road last night by I think a Toyota 4Runner. It was dark and we couldn’t see the driver.”

  Pete frowned. “Anyone come to mind?”

  “I have my detractors.” Jeep raised her eyebrows.

  “This was more than a detractor!” Mags said.

  “You think it wasn’t just a drunk driver?”

  Mags shook her head. “My great-aunt has been buying and renting water rights for decades. There are people out there who would sure like to make her sell or surrender them.”

  “Now, Mags, don’t overstate the case. Yes, Silver State has been consistent in asking. Every now and then a politician for environmental control or sustained development cites me as a good example. The other side cites me as a selfish rich bitch.”

  Pete laughed. “There’s always someone out there ready to throw a mud-ball.”

  “But—” Mags hesitated, then said, “Pete, given that two pumps have been blown up, I’m a little worried about Aunt Jeep.”

  “I’m fine,” Jeep objected. “Don’t forget, I’m a fine shot. I trust my Smith and Wesson. Don’t worry.”

  “But I do worry. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Mags meant it.

  Jeep shook her head. “You have Enrique, Carlotta, and now the grandchildren. When I cycle off this spinning planet, you’ll be just fine.”

  “Won’t be nearly as much fun without you.” Pete smiled. “Excuse me for a moment. I just have a few more questions. You knew Sam Peruzzi?”

  “Yes, I did. He studied the wildlife here last summer. I didn’t know him well but of course his murder was terrible. He was very passionate about the environment.”

  “It’s possible his murder has something to do with that. He had collected quite a lot of information on local water use issues.”