Murder Unleashed by Brown Rita Mae

Author:Brown, Rita Mae [Brown, Rita Mae]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: mystery
ISBN: 9780345530172
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2011-10-04T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

We think of prostitutes as women. We’re wrong.” Patrick Wentworth—dressed in Wranglers, cowboy boots, a Western shirt and boots, and a lined leather vest for the cold—spoke to the camera.

230 Spring Street was behind him.

Knocking back their morning caffeine blast, Jeep and Mags, along with Carlotta, watched the tiny TV in the large kitchen. The huge old round clock read seven-fifteen A.M.

“Brad Heydt, twenty years old, was found dead yesterday by his neighbor, another squatter here in the Spring district. He was a rent boy, a male prostitute, and he died of AIDS. Spring Street is four blocks away from Yolanda Street, Cracktown. Vice is spreading over our city like a stain. Vote for me and I’ll clean up this filth.”

“I will kill that bastard. With my bare hands!” Jeep slammed the table so hard that coffee jumped out of the cup. “He died of starvation. This is an outrage. I will kill Wentworth!”

Carlotta, bracelets jingling, wordless, wiped up the mess and refilled her mother-in-law’s cup. She loved Jeep, had seen all her moods, and knew to keep quiet for a bit.

“Oh, Aunt Jeep, that poor kid.”

“Who did Wentworth pay off to find out that boy’s identity? And where are his next of kin? I will kill. I mean it.” The old lady’s face, now crimson, bore a frightening determination.

“Oh, Momma”—Carlotta twirled her hand upward—“make it slow. Swift death is too good for him.”

After this brought a bark of approval from Jeep, Carlotta winked at Mags while she patted her own heart. Carlotta feared intense emotion might set off a heart attack in Jeep. The fact that the Reed line was notoriously long-lived did not dissuade her from her worry. Carlotta lived to love, to nurture, to fret over everyone whom she cared about, which seemed to include just about the whole world. The moment she’d met someone, anyone, she knew, just knew, they would be good friends. She was right.

Jeep put her head in her hands, then picked it up again. “Mags, we’re shooting our appeal for food today at the TV station. I want to look good.”

“A hint of violet. Oh, she will be so beautiful.” Carlotta loved anything involving color.

“And your Wranglers,” Mags added.

“Bet Wentworth wears the relaxed size.” Carlotta poofed. “My husband still wears the same size he did when we were married and he looks good.”

Both Jeep and Mags smiled because a fellow with a tight butt did look divine in Wranglers. A girl could lose her composure way too fast.

“Should I wear a scarf to hide my wrinkled neck?” Jeep was now getting excited.

Carlotta shook her head vigorously. “No. Your silver necklace that the Navajo chief gave you years ago. The one with the square-cut lapis lazuli.”

“Chief Eddie.” Jeep beamed. “He would be proud of what I’m going to do.”

Chief Eddie, gone to his reward, entertained Jeep many times and vice versa. She adored his outlook on life, his fantastic sense of balance and proportion, and she discovered Navajos can do a lot more than make gorgeous jewelry.

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