Free Death on the Mississippi by Richard; Forrest

balloon landings, it was age-old custom for descending balloonists to offer wine to those in their landing areas. Most people were pleased at the diversion.
    When the balloon broke one hundred feet and continued a rapid descent, Lyon saw men and women playing volleyball in the field below. He instantly realized why Bea was concerned, and he gripped the sides of the basket tightly. He hoped the champagne would assuage their feelings.
    The balloon basket made a bumpy landing and Lyon levered a small propane burn to keep the gondola upright. He popped the champagne cork and leaned over the basket with wine foaming over his fingers. “We balloonists have an ancient landing rule,” he said as he held up the bottle.
    â€œWe have rules too, creep,” the largest man in the group of naked people said.
    â€œStart shucking clothes, corn pone,” his feminine companion added.

6
    The Governor’s voice was unctuous. “It’s only because of past favors that they came to me with the information first.”
    â€œWhat was said?” Bea asked. His gratuitous offer of confidential information meant that she was probably on the brink of utter disaster.
    â€œUnimpeachable sources inform me that your husband was seen cavorting in the nude with that bunch at Victorian Acres.”
    Bea hadn’t seen Lyon cavort since the twist went out of fashion, but then she had refused to drive the chase car inside the confines of the nudist camp. “Cavorting, Governor?”
    â€œYou know there’s been talk of sexual orgies out there.”
    â€œThere’s a rather complicated explanation for what happened,” Bea said.
    â€œI’m sure there is, Senator. Perhaps we can discuss it over lunch tomorrow?”
    â€œYes, we’ll do that.” She had already replaced the phone in its cradle when she realized that she had neglected the obvious question. Who had observed Lyon’s antics within the fenced, guarded, and heavily wooded colony? She sometimes felt that she wasn’t nearly tough enough for cut-throat politics. “Lyon, have you been cavorting again?” she called out. “One of the Governor’s spies saw you at Victorian Acres in an orgy.”
    He wandered into the room. “It was volleyball. Volleyball is evidently de rigeur, the same as taking off your clothes. Someone’s in the drive, it must be Gary Dorset.”
    â€œPlease, no more expensive plane rides.”
    â€œI’m not going up,” he said as he went to the front door. He saw that Dorset was driving a Jeep with a large FOLLOW ME sign on its rear. That was a good omen. When the pilot got out of the Jeep, he carried a leather briefcase and wore his going-to-the-Federal-Reserve banker’s suit. That was a bad omen.
    Pan, Lyon, and Bea sat quietly in the study while Dorset opened the briefcase that straddled his knees. He carefully pulled out an invoice. “As I understand it, you want an aerial map of the area you outlined for me? Good aerial photography requires a stable platform, so I’ll have to take the two-engine Cesna. We’ll also need an experienced copilot to operate and load the cameras. There are extra costs for the camera rentals, film, developing, and so forth.”
    â€œDo you have any numbers?” Lyon asked.
    â€œIt’s all included in the estimate,” Dorset said as he handed the bill to Lyon.
    â€œDo it,” Lyon said. “I need that aerial map as soon as possible.”
    Dorset strode to the door. “I fly at dawn!”
    Bea looked at the pilot’s estimate. “Do we have to do this?” Lyon nodded. “We’ll have to sell my soul to pay for it. I wonder what state senator souls go for these days.”
    â€œDon’t be Faustian, dear,” Lyon said.
    â€œFaust? You’re talking Faust and the devil! I’m talking really serious trouble—the Governor.” She started up the stairs. “I have to get ready