I parked and went from hotel to hotel. They were all similar, two-story motels around a central pool, in an updated fifties style.
When I got to the Pride House All-Male Resort, I was impressed by the elegance of the lobby. A couple of couches that would have been at home in someone’s upscale living room, a coffee table that looked like an antique.
The man behind the desk didn’t answer my question right away. “What’s the problem?” he asked.
He was a beefy bear type with multiple piercings, including a silver ring in his nose. His name tag read “Gary.”
“I’m investigating some d**g thefts, and his name came up,” I said.
“Son of a b***h,” Gary said.
“So he works here?”
“He does. And things are starting to make sense.”
“What kind of things?”
“We cater to a high-class clientele here,”
