Two Bits Four Bits (13 page)

“No, and that’s the other
thing. We always require everybody who gets access to a safe
deposit box to sign our log showing the date and the box number
they’re getting into. And, if the clerk letting the customer into
the box doesn’t know them they’re supposed to ask for a photo ID,
even if they’re with somebody who’s on the signature card. Dayton
Clark showed his ID with no problem, but when Beth Ann asked the
other guy for his, he just gave her this weird look and laughed. He
was a big scary looking guy, and it spooked her. Then, Dayton Clark
tells her that it’s okay, he’ll vouch for the guy. She doesn’t know
what to do and is sort of intimidated, so she goes ahead and lets
them in. But, I could tell the whole thing shook her
up.”

“Did the other guy sign
the log book?”

“He scribbled something,
but you can’t tell what it says.”

“Do you think it could
have been Darrell Swain?

“I thought about that, but
we looked back in the log to see what Darrell Swain’s signature
looked like and it was totally different. I got curious about who
had been getting into that box and how often, so I sat down with
the log to see. It looks like Darrell Swain has come in a couple of
times a month since the box was opened about a year
ago.”

“Did you see Dayton
Clark’s name in the log?”

“Not once. Not until
yesterday. And, I noticed something else. Darrell Swain opened
another safe deposit box of his own two months ago, a smaller one.
He got into it right after he opened it, but hasn’t been in it
since.”

“Could Beth Ann tell if
Dayton Clark and his friend took anything out of the
box?”

“She said they didn’t take
anything very large with them. She said Dayton Clark was wearing a
suit, so he could have put something in his pockets I guess, but he
wasn’t carrying a briefcase or anything. She said they kept the
privacy door closed, and were in there for a while, and then left
in a hurry.”

* * * *

CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE

After talking to Jay
Bradley, I got dressed and met Ray Garcia at Lita’s for breakfast.
The waitress took our orders and brought us tortilla chips and
salsa to keep us alive while until our food was ready. The salsa at
Lita’s had just the right balance of heat and flavor, including the
cilantro that so many Mexican food restaurants neglect to add. As I
was listening to Ray rattle on about his in-laws I noticed three
older men that kept looking in our direction from their table at
the other end of the room. I asked Ray if he knew them.

“Oh yeah, that’s Jake
Sutton, Louis Rogers and Sid Fuller. They spend all morning in here
every day, sitting around gossiping like a bunch of old ladies and
bullshitting like a bunch of old men.”

“Jake Sutton? He’s the guy
that has Sutton Tool, isn’t he?”

“Used to. Sutton Tool went
under during the last oilfield bust, while you were off fighting
crime in Austin. He had retired and turned the company over to his
sons, but I think he was still carrying the papers on it and lost a
pretty good chunk of change.”

“What about the other two
guys?”

“Sid Fuller used to sell
drilling mud for somebody, but I can’t remember who. Louis Rogers
used to be the Fire Chief. He’s retired too. Why do you
ask?”

“They keep looking over
here at us”

“Probably haven’t ever
seen anybody as nice-looking as me sitting with somebody as ugly as
you. It’s the contrast.”

“You could be right,” I
said. “But, I think it’s more likely they’ve never seen a human
with table manners like yours.”

The waitress brought our
food; huevos rancheros with green sauce for me and menudo for Ray,
along with a basket of freshly made flour tortillas. Ray finished
quickly, explaining that he had to meet with a client at his
office. It seemed a little fishy, a CPA meeting with a client on a
Saturday morning in July, but I let him slip out before the check
arrived anyway.

He hadn’t been gone more
than two or three minutes when one of the three older men who had
been watching us approached my table.

“Excuse me,” he said. “Are
you Buddy Griffin?”

“That all depends on who
you are,” I answered. “If you’re from the collection agency my name
is Ray Garcia.”

He laughed. “No, that
won’t work. Ray does my taxes and overbills me for it. I’d know him
anywhere.”

We shook hands and he
introduced himself as Sid Fuller. He nodded toward his
table.

“I told them boys you
wouldn’t bite, but they were too shy to come over here with me. Can
we buy you a cup of coffee?”

“Sure. It’ll help make up
for your accountant sticking me with the check.”

We moved to the table the
other men sat at and Sid handled the introductions.

“Lita calls us the Three
Amigos because we all spend almost every morning in here, unless
Jake has an early tee time or Louis had a hot date the night
before,” Sid said.

“Or, unless Sid has to
stay home and do chores,” Louis added.

“See, Sid and I are both
married,” Jake said. “So we’re only here on a temporary release
plan. Louis here is a widower, so he can do whatever the hell he
wants, including flirt with the waitresses without getting in
trouble at home.”

The three of them traded
barbs for several minutes before Sid leaned forward and lowered his
voice.

“Listen, Buddy. The reason
we wanted to talk to you is because we’ve heard that the police
might be looking at Kandy Chilton for shooting her husband. And,
we’ve heard that they brought you in special from Austin to
investigate the case.”

“That’s what you hear,
huh?”

The other two men
nodded.

“Yes sir,” Sid continued.
“We know that you’re a Texas Ranger here on special
assignment.”

“Wow, a Texas Ranger?” I
said.

Sid’s face fell. “You mean
you’re not?”

“No, sorry to disappoint
you, but I only came to town for a high school reunion. I grew up
here.”

“I told you he wasn’t a
Texas Ranger,” Louis said. “But you are involved in the
investigation, aren’t you?”

“I’m retired from the
police department in Austin,” I said. “That’s probably how the
mixup started.”

“Well Hell’s bells,” Sid
said. “Everybody in town has seen you talking to the police and
talking to John Donnelly and asking around about things. You can’t
tell me you’re not involved in it somehow.”

I shrugged. “Think what
you want, I guess.”

“Sid has a theory about
the murder,” Jake said. “He thinks it was one of the city
commissioners, but he’s not sure which one.”

Sid looked at Jake with
annoyance. “Well, when you say it like that it sounds crazy,” he
said. “I just think that things got pretty heated over the vote on
that zoning ordinance last November and Russell Chilton was right
in the middle of it. Emotions were running pretty high back then,
and people have been known to hold a grudge.”

“That’s an interesting
theory,” I said. “Which side of the issue was Russell Chilton
on?”

Sid gave a blank look.
“I’m not really sure. I just remember hearing his name a lot back
then.”

The appearance of my
waitress cut off any further discussion of the theory when I
flagged her down to ask for my check. I excused myself and told The
Three Amigos what a pleasure it was to meet them.

On the drive home after
leaving Lita’s I called my ex-wife Peg to listen to her concerns
about our daughter Adrienne.

“She’s just moving too
fast with this boy Rodney,” she said. “He’s a nice kid and all, but
they’re getting really serious and I’m afraid she’s going to quit
school before she finishes.”

“Has she talked about
quitting?” I asked.

“No, but you know how that
goes. She’ll say she’s going to finish, but then when money gets
tight she’ll want to quit school to get a job, or she’ll get
pregnant and not be able to finish. And, she can’t be married
during her residency.”

“Wait a second. Is she
talking about getting married?”

“Not yet, Buddy. But do
you know how many hours she’ll be working when she finishes medical
school? She won’t have time to eat and sleep, let alone have a
relationship. And, as much time as she’s been spending with this
Rodney, it isn’t the relationship that will suffer.”

“But, she hasn’t said
anything about getting married yet?” I asked.

“Not to me. Has she talked
to you about it?”

“No,” I said. “But it’s
been a few days since we talked.”

“Well, don’t be surprised
if it’s Rodney who calls you next, asking for your daughter’s hand
in marriage.”

“Do they still do that?
Ask the father’s permission?”

“I don’t know, but if he
does ask you, tell him to come back in five years and maybe have a
heart to heart with him about birth control.”

“Peg, I think you’re
getting yourself worked up over nothing. Adrienne’s always been
level-headed when it comes to school and her goals. She’s wanted to
be a doctor since she was a little girl. I don’t think she’s going
to let anything keep her from that, even a boyfriend.”

“God, I hope you’re right,
but I want you to ask her about this and make sure she understands
what a mistake it would be. Daddy would be devastated if she
dropped out of medical school.”

Peg’s father was a retired
doctor and had provided the money for Adrienne to attend the
medical school at Texas Tech, something I could have never done on
my salary.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll ask
about Rodney the next time I talk to her.”

“And you really should be
talking to her more,” she said.

“Peg. Adrienne and I are
both pretty busy these days but we talk to each other on a regular
basis.”

“I’m just saying you’ve
never really been that involved in her life. Even when she was a
little girl.”

I took a deep breath and
resisted the urge to let Peg steer the conversation onto the same
old path we’d taken together so many times before.

“Okay, Peg. I’ll talk to
her and let you know if she’s set up a bridal registry
anywhere.”

“That’s not funny, and you
know it.

“Goodbye, Peg.”

* * * *

CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX

When I got back to the
house I spent some time organizing what I had learned about the
Russell Chilton murder over the last few days. Spreading jotted
notes out on the kitchen table, I found myself wishing for one of
the big whiteboards that I’d used to organize cases when I was back
in the Homicide Division of the Austin Police Department. There was
plenty of room in Mom and Dad’s house, but I really missed having
the resources of the APD at my disposal.

I set up my new laptop
computer and printer and began trying to organize my scribbled
notes into a kind of outline, but I soon abandoned that and began
using the colored note cards I’d picked up in Odessa.

On a shelf in the garage I
found the next best thing to a whiteboard, a roll of white butcher
paper. I spent the next few minutes jotting names and drawing lines
to indicate connections. When I looked at the overall picture of
what I’d learned so far, the area with the most questions, and that
lent itself to the possibility of leading somewhere, was Eva Trout.
It was pretty evident that if I could locate Eva, it would either
help me find out what happened to Russell Chilton or tell me if I
were going down a blind alley.

I found my listing from my
review of Eva Trout’s phone bill and called the one for Monica and
Frank Kendricks. I was hoping that Monica Kendricks was the same
Monica that had written on the back of the picture I’d found at Eva
Trout’s home.

A woman
answered.

“Monica?”

“May I ask who is
calling?” she answered.

“My name is Buddy Griffin.
I’m calling about Eva Trout.”

There was an extended
pause on her end of the line.

“What about her?” she
said, in a low voice.

“I’m trying to find out if
she’s okay. She hasn’t shown up for work in a few days, and we were
worried something may have happened to her.”

“I don’t know anything
about her. Please don’t call here again.”

“Monica, wait. Before you
hang up. I know you’ve talked to Eva in the last couple of weeks.
She may be in some kind of trouble and—“

“I really can’t talk about
this on the phone,” she whispered.

“I can be there this
afternoon if we could meet somewhere,” I said.

She was less cautious than
I would expect a woman to be when phoned by a total stranger,
agreeing to meet with me quickly. We settled on a meeting place at
the Mall of Abilene.