A Nose for Justice (34 page)

“Mr. Larkin.” Pete touched his hat with his forefinger.

Jonas yelled, “Becca, be a minute.” He turned to Pete. “It must be important because you’ve driven way out here to find me.”

“You didn’t return my call.” When Jonas remained silent, Pete continued, “A man was killed Thursday night and another man has disappeared. Both of them purchased land in Horseshoe Estates.”

Jonas’s face stayed impassive—too impassive. “Could be coincidence.”

“We don’t think so. Everyone who purchased land in that development with water rights may be in danger.”

A slight twitch at Jonas’s mouth was his only facial response. “I’m not worried.”

“Let me ask you something. Did you go to school or college with anyone from Wade Properties or SSRM?”

“No.”

“Do you have friends in either company?”

“I know a few people. I wouldn’t call them friends.”

“Who?”

“Roger Malmed, Wade Props. I’ve seen Darryl Johnson a few times, but I can’t say I know him. That’s about it.”

“What about George W. Ball?” When Jonas shook his head, Pete asked, “Craig Locke?”

“Yes—again not well, but he’s all over the map, looking at land.”

“Elizabeth McCormick?”

“No.”

“Teton Benson?”

A long pause followed this. “Knew Tets in the old days, right after he changed his name.”

“Mr. Benson wasn’t exactly living high on the hog. Do you know where he came by the land? Anything you can tell me about him may save his life.”

Jonas scuffed the loam. “He was a drug dealer back when I knew him. Had good stuff. We were all wild.” He stared up at Pete. “Long gone, those days.”

“Given that it’s illegal, that’s a good thing.”

“Hell, Deputy Meadows, you can’t stop drugs in America and if you think you can, you’re smoking opium. And you know it.”

Pete did, so he didn’t respond to that. “Is there a chance Teton sold to or partied with someone at Wade Properties or SSRM?”

“I wouldn’t know. Like any good dealer, Tets never spoke of his other clients. I know he had a lot of rich ones; there’s easy money in Reno. But I expect they’ve all gotten older. I heard he did the rehab number.”

“Word is, he’s clean,” said Pete.

“Can you think of anyone who might have lent him money?” Lonnie piped up.

“For all I know, he stashed what he made in the old days.”

“Seems strange he’d live on Fourth Street,” Pete said.

“Not if you know Tets. He’s a rebel.”

“Did you ever talk to him about Horseshoe Estates?”

A wrenching pause followed. “Yes. He called me and told me to buy out there.”

“Who tipped him off?”

“He didn’t say.”

“Mr. Larkin, you weren’t honest with me during our first interview. Why should I believe you now?”

“I didn’t outright lie.” He sounded surly. “And thanks to my work, I do see places that I think will eventually be developed. Once you know what to look for, it’s obvious: how close to a major highway, school district, surrounding area, population density, and, of course, water. Carson City has the road plan for the next ten years and even beyond. All you have to do is go down to the department and see what roads are planned. Same with the state engineer. His department must give you maps of aquifers, wells. You pay a small amount for them. The information’s there for the asking if you know where to look.”

“An insider tip is even better.”

“You’d have to ask Tets that one.”

Driving back to Reno, Lonnie tapped the notebook in his chest pocket. “Larkin wouldn’t put his money down on the word of an ex-dealer who he says he hasn’t seen in a long time.”

“He’s lying about that as well. Damn, we can’t get it out of him. Son of a bitch.”

“He thinks he’s safe, so maybe he is.” Lonnie shrugged.

“Maybe he’s closer to whoever is behind this,” Pete said.

“Hey, you know what else is in Beatty?”

“I have no idea.”

“Shady Lady.”

“Oh, yeah, prostitution place.”

“Well, they’ve got a male prostitute, a gigolo who was a porn star and is an ex-Marine.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No. He gave an interview in
Details
magazine. Maybe you and I are in the wrong line of work.”

“I’ll pass.” Pete thought a minute. “Can you imagine what the women have to service? Fat guys, ugly ones, ones who can’t get along with anyone, including their dog if they have one. Jesus, it must be revolting.”

“You against prostitution?” Lonnie asked.

“No. It’s a good way for someone to make money and if you’re smart you get out in time. I just don’t know how they do it. I expect that ex-Marine will have to do his duty and service some unappealing types. It’s easier for a woman.”

“Maybe he has secrets. Or he closes his eyes.”

“I guess.” Pete pulled into a gas station. “We’re low.”

“Why shouldn’t a woman pay? Beats pretending you want to know someone. Sometimes all you want is relief.”

“But all a woman has to do is wait,” said Pete. “Sit on a bar stool or go to a party, there’s almost always a man who’s ready and willing. Why pay?” He thought a minute. “Then again, you’re right, why pretend you want a relationship when all you want is sex? Maybe there should be more men in that line of work.”

“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.”

“S
SRM’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.