Bill Crider - Dan Rhodes 20 - Compound Murder (13 page)

“Won’t do you any good, though,” Hack said.

“Why not?”

Rhodes didn’t expect a straight answer, but he got one. More or less.

“’Cause there’s nothing in ’em.”

“There has to be something in them if they’re reports.”

“The somethin’ is nothin’,” Hack said.

“You mean there’s no evidence or information that will help us.”

“That’s what I said.”

Rhodes said that was too bad. He’d hoped that either Ruth would find something in the cars or Buddy would get some information from Wellington’s neighbors. Anything that would help point the investigation in some direction or other would have helped.

“Any problems while I was out of touch?” he asked.

“More loose livestock. Duke and Alton took care of it. Seems like a lot of cattle are on the prowl today. Maybe we’ll get a change in the weather.”

“I thought it was turtles on the prowl that meant a change in the weather,” Rhodes said.

“Cows, turtles, doesn’t matter,” Hack said. “They get on the prowl, there’s gonna be a change. You’ll see.”

“I hope so,” Rhodes said. He was tired of the heat and the dryness. “That all?”

“That’s all. You want another killin’?”

“No thanks. One is more than enough. I’m going home. If you need me, you know where I’ll be.”

“Unless you’re somewhere else. You don’t hardly ever eat supper at home.”

“I’ll have my cell phone with me,” Rhodes said.

“You hate that cell phone.”

“I’m trying to join the twentieth century.”

“You’re one century behind,” Hack said.

“Story of my life,” Rhodes said, and he signed off.

*   *   *

Before Rhodes could do any more work on the investigation, he had to go home and face Ivy. It might have been a good idea to let her know that another resident had joined the household, but that would have spoiled the surprise. Rhodes hoped the new cat wasn’t too big a surprise. He supposed he’d find out.

He knew things had changed in the house as soon as he got to the door. Yancey almost always came to meet him, but this time he didn’t hear any little toenails on the floor or any excited yipping. He didn’t hear anything at all except a car that passed on the street. He was reminded of the old cliché about things being too quiet.

He opened the door and didn’t see or hear Yancey or anyone else. He knew Ivy was at home. He knew Yancey was in the house. It was too quiet, all right. Rhodes thought maybe he should have gone to the jail and locked the AR-15 up instead of leaving it in the car. Something at the jail might have needed his attention, and he could have stayed there for a while. He could have read the reports that Ruth and Buddy had turned in. Even if they’d told Hack they hadn’t found anything useful, Rhodes might spot something that would help.

He hadn’t gone to the jail, however. He’d come home, and now he had to face the consequences of his actions.

Rhodes walked into the kitchen. Sam was asleep near the refrigerator. Yancey was nowhere in sight. Ivy sat at the table. Something was asleep in her lap. Rhodes didn’t have to ask what it was, but he did anyway.

“Is that a cat in your lap?” he asked. He sneezed.

Ivy reached down and rubbed the cat’s back. “What do you think it is?”

Rhodes looked around the kitchen as if puzzled. “I wonder how it got in here.”

“I’ll just bet you do,” Ivy said.

“Hannah Bigelow thought she had a wild hog in her house today,” Rhodes said. “It came in through the pet door.”

“We don’t have a pet door,” Ivy said.

“I thought maybe you’d had one installed.”

“You might as well give up,” Ivy said. “I know you’re guilty, just like you’re guilty of several other things.” She rubbed the cat’s back. “I forgive you, but I’m not sure Yancey will.”

“Speaking of Yancey,” Rhodes said, “where is he?”

“Under the bed. What’s this cat’s name?”

Rhodes sneezed and admitted that he didn’t know. He explained how he’d come by the cat, not forgetting to add that if he’d left it in Wellington’s apartment it would have starved and if he’d taken it to the shelter it might not have been adopted.

“We couldn’t have that, could we,” Ivy said.

“No,” Rhodes said. “We couldn’t have that.”

“You’re sneezing. I thought you were getting better around Sam, but this new cat is going to be a problem. I suppose you’ll get used to him, too.”

Rhodes sneezed. “I’m sure I will.”

“I’m going to call him Jerry,” Ivy said.

“It’s a boy?”

“Yes. You didn’t even check?”

“I didn’t think about it.”

“He’s been fixed,” Ivy said. “He and Sam get along just fine.”

Rhodes had seen that for himself. “He and Yancey, on the other hand…”

“Yancey will come around.” Ivy paused. “Well, maybe not, but he’ll get used to things. Where are you taking me to dinner to make up for bringing in another stray?”

“Wherever you want to go,” Rhodes said.

“That’s the right answer,” Ivy said.

*   *   *

Ivy’s choice was Max’s Place for barbecue. Maybe she was getting as tired of meatless meals as Rhodes was. He tactfully didn’t mention the cheeseburger he’d had for lunch. As they drove, Rhodes told her about his day, making it sound a lot less stressful than it had been. She was more curious about Wellington than any of the other events, naturally enough, and she asked about the cause of death.

“We don’t know for sure,” Rhodes said. “I don’t have an autopsy report yet. We might stop by Ballinger’s after we eat and see if it’s ready.”

Clyde Ballinger ran a local funeral home, and since there was no county morgue, and since Ballinger was a civic-minded kind of guy, he let the county perform autopsies there free of charge.

“We won’t have to look at anything, will we?” Ivy asked. “Not right after we eat.”

“Just the autopsy report. And Clyde Ballinger. He’s not so bad, though. You can probably stand it.”

“I never know when you’re joking.”

“Join the club,” Rhodes said.

When they got to the restaurant, Rhodes could smell the tangy smoke. He could almost taste the barbecue. Max greeted them at the door. As he led them to a table, Rhodes asked how the barbershop chorus was doing. Max sang baritone in the chorus, and he’d been a bit involved in one of Rhodes’s previous investigations.

“We’re doing all right,” Max said. “I think I’ll invite the group to sing here some night. What do you think? Good idea?”

“You let Seepy Benton sing here,” Rhodes said, “so why not the chorus?”

Benton sang bass in the chorus, and he didn’t have a standard lead singer’s voice, but he did have his own YouTube channel. He played guitar and wrote his own songs, and somehow he’d persuaded Max to give him a regular gig at the restaurant. To say that Rhodes wasn’t a big fan of his alleged singing was a considerable understatement, but Ivy seemed to like it, and so did Ruth Grady. Maybe some of the other customers did, too. Rhodes knew there was no accounting for taste, but still …

“Might not be room on the stage for the chorus,” Max said, “but it wouldn’t hurt if we spill off onto the floor. I think I’ll do it.”

“What nights?” Rhodes asked.

They were at their table, and Max held Ivy’s chair for her. An old-fashioned gentleman all the way. Rhodes seated himself.

“Are you asking because you want to come or because you don’t want to come?” Max asked.

Ivy kicked Rhodes’s ankle under the table.

“I want to be sure to hear you sing,” Rhodes said.

Max handed him a menu. “I’ll let you know what I decide. Enjoy your meal. I still have the best smokers and the best sauce in Texas. Those are the two big secrets of the barbecue business.”

Max left the table, and as Rhodes watched him leave, Seepy Benton came into the restaurant. Max met Benton with a menu. Benton took the menu and headed for Rhodes’s table.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked.

Ivy kicked Rhodes again. He’d never worn boots because they hurt his feet, but he might have to consider buying a pair just to protect his ankles.

“Have a seat,” he said.

“Thanks.” Benton pulled out a chair and sat down. “Good evening, Ivy. How are you tonight?”

“I’m fine,” Ivy said. “And how are you?”

“Great. Life is good. It would be better if I were singing tonight, but this isn’t my evening for that.”

Rhodes waited for Ivy to kick him again. When she didn’t, he said, “How are things at the college?”

“We need to talk,” Benton said.

Rhodes thought that was a good idea. He had a lot of questions for Benton about the way things worked at the college and about Wellington’s relationship with the rest of the faculty and administrators. He wanted to know more about the rumors, too.

“I’ve been doing a little investigation of my own,” Benton continued.

“That’s not a good idea,” Rhodes said, but he didn’t explain why because the server arrived to take their order. Rhodes said he’d have a sliced beef plate with pinto beans and coleslaw with the barbecue sauce on the side. Ivy decided she’d just visit the salad bar, and Benton joined her. If that was what they wanted, Rhodes didn’t object, but he was sticking with real food.

When the waiter left to fill Rhodes’s order, Rhodes said, “I know that amateurs do just fine in the movies, but you could get in trouble nosing around at the college.”

Benton raised his eyebrows. “Amateur? I’m a deputy.”

“No you’re not.”

“Yes I am. You forgot to undeputize me. I’m going to get my salad.”

Benton had made two trips to the salad bar by the time Rhodes’s meal arrived. Ivy was still working on the small bowl of salad she’d created on her first visit. Rhodes added some sauce to his sliced beef. Max was right: The secret was in the sauce. The meat was lean and tender, but the sauce was just the addition it needed. Not too much sauce, though. It wouldn’t do to overpower the smoky flavor of the meat. For good measure Rhodes put a little of the sauce in his pinto beans.

Between bites of his salad, Benton told Rhodes what he’d found out at the college. “I talked to a lot of people who don’t have to keep things confidential,” he said. “One of them was the bookstore manager, Mary Mason. She says she knows you.”

Ivy gave Rhodes a look, but at least she didn’t kick him.

“I wouldn’t say I know her,” Rhodes told Benton. “I know who she is.”

“Everybody knows who she is,” Ivy said with a little edge in her tone.

Who Mary Mason was was one of Clearview’s most eligible women. Mary had appeared in town a year or so earlier for unspecified, but widely speculated upon, reasons. She was from a college town called Pecan City, which Rhodes had never visited, though he’d met Boss Napier, the chief of police, once.

There were rumors that Mary had left town after a clandestine affair with someone at the college in Pecan City, possibly the president, but no one had ever confirmed it. She was blond and buxom, and she’d become quite popular with the young men about town, of whom there weren’t many. Wellington would have been one of them, though as far as anyone knew he wasn’t much interested in women. Or maybe it was that they weren’t interested in him.

“Does Ruth know you talked to Mary Mason?” Rhodes asked.

“I haven’t told her yet,” Benton said, “but she won’t mind. She knows I’m as pure as the driven snow.”

Rhodes hadn’t seen a lot of snow in his lifetime, most of which had been spent in Texas. He’d always wondered why driven snow was supposed to be so pure. Now probably wasn’t the time to get into that, however, though he knew Benton would have an opinion. Benton had an opinion on just about everything.

“Did she know Wellington?” Rhodes asked.

“I didn’t think to ask her about that,” Benton said.

Amateur
. “Did you get distracted?”

“No,” Benton said. “Anyway, there wasn’t any need to ask that. She worked in the bookstore, and Wellington was a teacher. She knew him, all right.”

“I didn’t mean being acquainted,” Rhodes said. “I meant did she know him well.”

“I didn’t find that out. I got what I wanted, though. I found out about Ike Terrell’s bookstore bill.”

Maybe not such an amateur after all. Rhodes wouldn’t have thought of that, but then he didn’t quite see what it had to do with anything.

“What did you find out?” Rhodes asked.

“Ike’s made only a partial payment for his textbooks. He’s not going to get his grades at the end of the semester if he owes the college money, and it looks like he does. He might owe even more. I’d have to check with the dean of students to find out. In a couple of days anybody who hasn’t paid his tuition is going to be forced to drop out of classes. Ike might not have paid up.”

Rhodes had figured out what Benton had been after, and it was a point in Benton’s favor that he’d thought of the bookstore bill.

“So you think Ike might have stolen that hair to help pay his bills,” he said.

“I’ve heard a little bit about his family,” Benton said. “Judging from what I’ve been told, Ike’s about as likely to be taking out any student loans or applying for a government grant as I am to fly to the moon under my own power.” He paused. “That’s not out of the question, you know. It could happen.”

Rhodes started to say something, but Ivy kicked him again. He looked at her. She was having trouble keeping a straight face.

“So I suppose Ike could pay his bills, too,” Benton said, “but I think he might have needed to get some money, fast, to pay them with. Hair extensions are easy to get cash for, according to the news reports. People are stealing them all over the country. Wigs, too.”

He was right, and Rhodes had to give him credit for coming up with a motive for the theft. It didn’t make Ike any less guilty, but it did help explain why he’d committed the burglary. He must have been desperate. Able didn’t appear to be withholding financial support from his son, but there might not have been enough money to pay for tuition and books. Ike would have had a tough time getting a job in town, not because nobody would hire him but because Able would’ve objected. Not that there were a lot of jobs to be had anyway.

Everyone had finished eating now, but Rhodes wasn’t ready to leave. He wanted to hear what else Benton had found out, and he wanted to hear it now. The waiter had come by and left their bills, separate checks without even being asked. He deserved a good tip.