A Nose for Justice

by Rita Mae Brown

  “Plenty of gay ones.”

  “Yep.” He unhooked the seat belt and the annoying beep began.

  “I’ll pump.” Lonnie opened the door as Pete cut the motor.

  “I know you will.” Pete smiled.

  “Hey, no one’s complained yet.”

  “Well, that’s the point of the male prostitute, isn’t it? Women don’t complain and I guess there’s a bunch of us who aren’t very good at making them happy in bed. So whoever this guy is in Beatty, he must know his stuff.”

  Lonnie shut the door and thought about what Pete had said. Once tanked up, he took out the receipt as it came out of the slot on the gas pump, and climbed back in. He put it in the zippered bag they kept for receipts.

  “You read Men’s Health,” Lonnie said. “They have tips in there about how to drive women crazy in bed.”

  “Right.”

  They drove in silence until Lonnie piped up. “If she doesn’t tell you, how do you know?”

  “Beats me.” Pete sighed. “When I was married, I thought everything was terrific. Then Lorraine leaves me and tells all her friends, who, of course, told all my friends, how rotten I was in the sack.”

  “They all do that when it’s over. And they always say you have a little dick. Do we say they have shrunken breasts?”

  “Nope.” Pete sighed. “My magic member has never failed me but it failed Lorraine.”

  “Women make sex too complicated.”

  “It is for them. I can’t imagine it.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “At some point, buddy, you’ve got to think like they think. We can’t feel what they feel, but we can learn what works. Pretty much it’s physiological, but it’s emotional, too. What’s the best sex you ever had—with someone you cared about, right?”

  Lonnie thought about this. “If I’m in bed, I care.”

  “Liar.”

  “No, really. I can’t get it up if I don’t like her. Sure she has to be hot, but you’ve known hot women who were poison.”

  Pete blinked. “Strychnine.”

  “That’s what you should call Lorraine behind her back.”

  “It’s been a couple of years. I’d just as soon forget it. Strychnine killed Egon. You can’t buy it over the counter, but if someone has friends or knowledge it’s not that hard to make. Let’s check that out.”

  “Rat poison’s sure easy.”

  “Yeah, the rats love it,” Pete said sarcastically. “Back to work. All the buyers that are out of town, while not cooperative, don’t appear to be afraid.”

  “Haven’t reached Diamond yet,” Lonnie said. “But I called the place in Maui. He’s there.”

  “He’ll call back at some point. Cocky.”

  “Rich people usually are, in one way or another. Even Jeep. Maybe especially Jeep.”

  “She’s been powerful for a long time. Hey, Mags thinks the dead Russian may have something to do with Afghanistan.”

  “No shit?”

  “She’s a bulldog. Won’t let it go. It is fascinating, though, what she’s learned about politics at that time. 1902. She’s pretty sure that’s the year he was killed.”

  “She sure held it together when they found Oliver,” said Lonnie.

  “She did. When’s your next date with Amelia?”

  “Friday night. Second date. I’m praying the third one is the charm.”

  “Depends on your charm.”

  “Hey, I’m full of it. I overflow with charm.”

  “I wouldn’t put it that way.”

  “You wouldn’t. Hey, where are we going?”

  “Horseshoe Estates.”

  Within twenty minutes, they pulled onto the dirt road, stopped, and got out.

  “Damn, this weather feels good. After a while, I get tired of winter.”

  “Yeah. I keep my spirits up in the gym, and following the teams in winter camp in Florida. Okay, bearing in mind what Jonas said, how far are we from a two-lane paved highway?”

  “Mile. If that.”

  Pete squinted. “How far from three ninety-five?”

  “Five, six miles.”

  “Ultimately, the two-lane highway may need widening. Not yet. One thousand homes, all of them over a half a million dollars. Some way over that. Can you see it?”

  “All I see is sagebrush.”

  “And the water is underground.” Pete walked over the broken ground, which sloped off to the east. “A little creek—it’ll be dry four to five months out of the year. More if there’s a drought.” He turned to his partner. “How did they know?”

  “Tipoff,” said Lonnie.

  “Payoff. Whoever tipped them off didn’t do so out of the goodness of his heart. Kickback. Probably more than half.”

  “Yeah, but why hasn’t this happened before? SSRM works with developers.”

  “Because this is the most upscale development Reno has ever had. The payment for the land will be much higher. Think about it. Wade Properties has bought eight hundred acres. If they want the rest, they’ll have to pay whatever it takes.”

  “Maybe Teton took his share and didn’t want to give any back.”

  “Or maybe he’s trying to stay alive.”

  “Or both,” Lonnie offered.

  Pete’s cell rang. “Hello.” His face brightened upon hearing Mags’s voice. “How are you?”

  “Great,” Mags said. “Aunt Jeep thinks she’s found some connections among those people who bought at Horseshoe. She doesn’t know if it connects everyone. She wants you to come on out as soon as you can.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  “SSRM’s founder, Darryl Johnson’s grandfather, realized long before anyone else that Reno’s continual growth would require a consistent water supply. This was 1956, which I believe was the year Elvis Presley recorded ‘You Ain’t Nothing but a Hound Dog.’ ” Jeep paused and folded her hands around her knee. “Funny how one remembers things. Anyway, Archie Johnson studied hydrology at the University of Montana right after the war. Navy man. Guess he’d seen enough water. He was a strong man, survived the kamikaze attack on the aircraft carrier Enterprise. Like most of us, once the war was over he wanted to come home to Reno. By 1956, our population was edging up toward forty thousand. Archie believed Reno would bloom. He formulated a simple, clear plan: buy up water rights, especially on the eastern side of the mountains. He rounded up funding from individuals, who were then named to his Board of Directors. There was a recession right after the war so it was tough finding investors. People sold cheap, though, so he bought a lot of water rights. That was the beginning.”

  Lonnie shifted in his seat, writing in his notebook as fast as he could.

  Mags and Carlotta brought in hot tea and hot chocolate plus some cookies. Both women left, Carlotta because she couldn’t sit still longer than ten minutes and Mags because she’d heard all this already. She figured she’d pop in twenty minutes from now and then she might join them.

  Jeep continued. “Archie Johnson’s biggest backer was Tim Benson, who made his money in dry goods. There was always a Benson on the board.”

  “Why not now?” Pete inquired respectfully.

  “I’m getting to that. Took me a while to piece this together. While I know these people, I’m not close. Anyway, Archie’s son, Frank, took over. And Tim Benson’s son, when he stepped down, was put on the board. As I recall, Tim Benson sired three children, the oldest I think lives in Texas, teaches there. The middle one is the one you call Teton, real name Robert. And the youngest was a beautiful girl, Reno rodeo queen actually, Margaret. She married Frank Johnson’s son, Darryl. That’s Lolly. Robert, alias Teton, is her brother. That’s all I know.”

  “That’s a lot.” Pete thanked her. “If you’ll excuse me, we’d better get over to Lolly Johnson’s right now. Teton has disappeared.”

  Jeep sat upright, dropping her hands from her knee. “Not another one.”

  “We don’t know. He left his apartment, drove his truck to Beatty, Nevada, and he may have stolen
a 2003 Trailblazer there. He was smart enough to know we’d put out a call for the truck. ’Course now he’s in a stolen vehicle, I think. But he’ll just keep swapping vehicles. He may have enough money to buy one, but I don’t think he’ll risk it until he crosses a state line.”

  “Dear God.”

  “You’ve been a great help.” Pete said.

  “Hold on a minute. Mags will surely fuss at me if I let you go without telling her.” Jeep rose and walked down the hall.

  Within minutes she and her niece came back to the living room.

  “Done?” Mags asked.

  “Maybe just beginning. I hope so. Jeep has been wonderful.”

  Lonnie nodded. “What a memory. Wish mine were that good.”

  “Mind’s a muscle, use it. Your memory will stay sharp,” Jeep advised. “Well, good luck, gentlemen, and I truly hope Robert Benson or whatever his name is doesn’t show up dead.”

  “We do, too, ma’am,” said Lonnie. “Tets knows something.”

  An hour later, no thanks to traffic, Pete and Lonnie pulled into the drive to the Johnson home, an impressive manse. Lonnie called ahead, had gotten Lolly on the phone, so she was expecting them.

  She opened the grand front door before they’d even knocked. “It’s not Darryl, is it? I know you’d never tell me that on the phone. Please tell me he’s safe.”

  “Mrs. Johnson, your husband’s fine but we need your help.”

  “Please, please come in. I am so relieved.” She shut the door behind them and walked them into her sunken living room, much more modern than Jeep’s.

  Lolly must have kept decorators happy. Her home was as immaculate as she was. Now in her mid-forties, she may have given in to some “work,” but a woman in her position must literally keep up appearances. For all their money the house still exuded homely warmth. So many don’t. Lolly had warmth and charm, too.

  “Oh, do sit down.” She perched on a chair, so they sat, too. “Now what can I do?”

  Pete tried to approach carefully. “Mrs. Johnson, this may be sensitive but you may be able to save lives.”

  Not knowing what to expect, she tensed. “Go ahead.”

  “Your brother.”

  “Not again.” Her hand flew to her face.

  “Ma’am?” Pete asked.

  “He hasn’t been picked up again, has he? He can’t stay straight. He tries. He’s been to rehab a few times.” She paused, a look of concern swept her lovely features. “Oh, God, he’s not dead, is he?”

  Pete said consolingly, “No. We think he’s alive.” On seeing the distress on her face, he continued, “We’re sorry to trouble you, but I believe Teton, as he calls himself, knows we’re looking for him and he’s doing his best to steer clear of us. When was the last time you saw him?”

  “Four months ago. Don’t tell Darryl, please. My husband is finished with Robert. Look, he has a problem, he can’t get a handle on it. I just don’t understand it at all. He blazed through a lot of Mom and Dad’s money until they gave up on him. Then Darryl, at my urging, lent him ten thousand dollars to go to a fancy rehab. After that, Robert stayed clean for maybe a year, then he went right back on. Darryl can usually keep his temper in check, but that sent him right over the edge.” She paused. “We have money, that’s obvious, but no one wants to lose ten thousand dollars to a relapsed drug addict. I’m sorry to say it, but that’s what he is. Darryl swore we should have given the money to a charity. We might as well have burned it and, of course, I felt just awful. Guilty, you know? Still feel that way even though my husband is good about it. He said, ‘It’s got to be hell to turn your back on your own brother,’ which I did up to a point. But four months ago I—I don’t know—I had to see him.”

  “Where did you see him?”

  “I went to his apartment. Fourth Street isn’t my favorite and I was even reluctant to leave my car parked there. His apartment, while very basic, was spotless. Robert was clean, too. You know how people take on a gray pallor when they do drugs? He looked in the pink, as they say.”

  “Did he ask for money?”

  This surprised her. “No. He knew I was taking a chance to see him, that Darryl would be angry. Robert told me he was working on something to make a nice little nest egg. I’d heard that before, but I let him rattle on.”

  “Did he say what it was?”

  “You know, Officer, I didn’t ask. I’d heard so many cock-and-bull stories I couldn’t stomach another. I was just glad to see him and I didn’t know when I would see him again. I hope he’s alive. He has struggled so much, and he has made a hash of his life. He’s weak, I guess. Maybe we all are in some ways. His way is just obvious.”

  “Would you say that your husband and Robert will never talk again?”

  “If they do, it will be a few words, foul ones most likely.” She half smiled. “Darryl was tolerant for years. He said we have to practice tough love. He’s probably right so, really, in my way, I’m weak. I don’t want to give up on Robert. My sister in Texas got stung, too. She lent him the money for his last rehab stint. They are sort of locked up for one month. The place was here in Reno.” She named an upscale rehab center.

  “Did your brother know Egon Utrecht?”

  “I didn’t know his friends. How would he know a celebrity chef?” She paused. “Well, it is Reno. Anything’s possible.”

  “What about Oliver Hitchens?”

  She shook her head. “Oliver would never have even spoken to my brother.” She clasped her hands. “I don’t wish to speak ill of the dead, but Oliver was very ambitious. He would never have done anything to offend my husband.”

  “So you think Mr. Johnson was aware of how Oliver played up to him?”

  “Yes. Darryl knows how to get the best out of people for SSRM. He is a company man, it’s in the blood. Actually, and again I shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, he thought Oliver a toady, but one who was excellent at his job. Oliver wanted George W.’s job when he retired.”

  “Can you think of anyone who would want to kill Oliver?”

  She half smiled, as so many loathed Oliver, then her voice rose slightly. “You don’t think Robert killed him, do you? I mean, he had no reason.”

  “No, we don’t, but we do think your brother knows a great deal about what is going on. That’s why we must find him. Let me ask you something else: Was Robert angry with Darryl?”

  “Can’t stand my husband. As the years passed and Robert spiraled downward, that’s when the hostility came out. Darryl, never one to mince words, used to berate Robert before he hit the bottom, telling him to snap out if it. Pick himself up. Others have done it. Robert, who can be self-involved, really resented it.”

  “Do you think your brother would want to get even with your husband, say, through SSRM?”

  This stopped her cold. She thought, then struggled to answer. “When Robert is at his worst, yes, I don’t put it past him.”

  “Was there anyone else in the company with whom he was friendly?”

  “I don’t believe so. It would be hard to imagine, because if Darryl got wind of it they’d be in hot water, excuse the pun.”

  “But those who had been with SSRM know who Robert is?”

  She nodded. “As time went on, he didn’t come to our parties. They knew him from the summer picnic at Lake Tahoe, events like that.”

  “Can you think of anyone who might be in contact with him, either from SSRM or from his former life?”

  “No.”

  “Did he know anyone from Wade Properties?”

  This also surprised her. “I don’t think so. That’s a fairly new company. Robert was already sliding by the time they started up.”

  “Do you know any of his current friends or associates?”

  “Not personally, but he has a few. His last stint in rehab, he made friends. He mentioned a nurse, Kelly, Carrie? I don’t recall, but he said another ex-addict is the only person who truly understands.”

  “We’ve taken up so much of your time. Thank you very
much.” Pete stood up. “When we find your brother, we’ll call you.”

  “Please, if the news is bad, let me break it to Mom and Dad.”

  “I’ll do what I can.”

  “Thank you, Officer.” She also stood. “I pray he’s alive.”

  “So do I.” Pete meant it, but for different reasons.

  She walked them both to the door. As she opened it, she said to Pete, “That was a wonderful thing you did Thursday night, taking Pauline Winters out on the dance floor. That horn on her wheelchair just cracks me up. She was a beautiful woman. Jeep was a looker, too. Both of you danced with our lady vets and then other men did, too. You won every woman’s heart that night.”

  Pete blushed and Lonnie did, too—unusual for him.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” he stammered.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Kylie Prentiss’s face curdled when Pete and Lonnie walked through the door of the small medical center where she worked. Fishing out a color-coded file from behind the desk, she stopped, hand in midair.

  “Miss Prentiss, if you’d give us a few minutes. It’s extremely important,” Pete said quietly but forcefully.

  Kylie nodded and pressed a button on the phone, “Jennifer, can you take a file back to Dr. Zacharis for me?”

  Jennifer appeared from down the hall within seconds, took the file from Kylie’s hands, looked at the two officers, then said to Kylie, “I’ll cover for you.”

  “Could we step outside?” Kylie asked.

  “Sure.”

  She grabbed her coat. Pete and Lonnie flanked her in case she decided to bolt.

  Once outside on the sidewalk, Pete said, “Three people have been killed. Teton Benson has disappeared. We don’t know whether he’s alive or dead. We think you may be able to help us find Mr. Benson. He’s in danger.”

  She took a deep breath. “Okay.”