by Bill Crider
“Not you,” Rhodes said. “I’m looking for Ed Garver.”
Allison jumped down off the stool. Rhodes could see only his head and the engineer’s cap as Allison walked around the counter.
“What’s Ed been up to?” Allison asked when he was in front of the counter. He seemed nervous. “I hope it’s nothing serious, because he’s on a job that’s pretty complicated.”
“What kind of job is that?” Rhodes asked.
“Stopped-up pipe.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“Usually it’s not,” Allison said, “but this pipe’s stopped up because it collapsed. It’s that old clay pipe they used a long time ago, so there’s no telling what problems might crop up later on if it’s left there. We’re replacing all the pipes under the house and in the yard, all the way to the street. Lot of digging and tunneling.”
“I hope you have somebody who can finish it if Ed’s not available. Did he show up for work today?”
Rhodes half-expected the answer to be no, but Allison said, “Sure. He’s always here. Never been late, never missed a day of work. Best man I have on the payroll. I hope he’s not in any real trouble.”
“I just want to talk to him,” Rhodes said, wondering why Allison was overselling Garver. “For now.”
Allison took off his engineer’s cap, twisted it up, and stuck it in the back pocket of his jeans. “Look, Sheriff, whatever you think he did, I’ll bet he didn’t do it. He’s steady, and he’s reliable. I’d sure hate to lose him.”
“Where did you say he was working?”
“The old Prickett house. You know where it is?”
Rhodes knew. Dan Prickett had owned a radio shop and record store fifty or sixty years ago, and it must have been a pretty good business because he’d built a big house on the outskirts of town. He was long dead, and his family was gone. Someone else owned the house now.
“I’ll go on out there and talk to Garver,” Rhodes said. “Best he doesn’t know I’m coming.”
Allison looked shocked. “You know me, Sheriff. I wouldn’t call him or anything.”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t, but I thought I’d mention it just in case.”
Allison took out his cap, straightened it out, and pulled it onto his head. “You can trust me, Sheriff. I sure hope Ed’s in the clear, though.”
“Clear of what?”
“Whatever it is you’re going to talk to him about. That’s all. I don’t think he’d do anything bad.”
“That’s what I plan to find out,” Rhodes said.
* * *
The Prickett place was built of stone and had been kept up pretty well over the years, but it didn’t look so good now, what with a tunnel dug all the way from the house to the curb, with dirt piled on the side. Under a big oak tree there was another huge pile of dirt that Rhodes assumed had come from beneath the house. He could see the edges of a blue tarp sticking out around the bottom of the pile.
Garver’s pickup was parked at the curb, and so was another, larger pickup with a pipe rack on one side and all sorts of metal storage cabinets built into the bed with covered cubbyholes on the sides. Rhodes didn’t know who might be driving that one.
He stopped behind Garver’s pickup and got out. He could hear a radio playing loud country music, or what passed for it these days. The sound was coming from the back of the house, so Rhodes walked around there to see who he could find.
He didn’t find anyone, but he did find the radio. It sat on a box near a square hole about three feet deep. From the hole a tunnel ran beneath the foundation of the house. A lawn chair wasn’t far away from the hole, so Rhodes sat in it to wait. He wasn’t sure how long he could take the loud music, but at least it wasn’t Milton Munday.
Rhodes had been seated only a couple of minutes when someone slithered out from under the foundation. His clothes were covered in mud and so was most of his face, but Rhodes could see that he wasn’t Garver.
The man didn’t notice Rhodes sitting in the chair. He pulled a red cloth out of his back pocket and started to wipe his hands and face.
While he was doing that, Garver dragged himself out onto the lawn and stood up. Rhodes was surprised to see him. Even though the pickup had been out front, Rhodes couldn’t believe that Garver was still in town.
Garver saw Rhodes at once. He was as muddy as the other man, but he had a wide white cloth tied around his head. Or it had been white before it got muddy. Garver frowned and walked over to Rhodes.
“How’s the head?” Rhodes asked when Garver reached him. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the music.
“It’s okay. I got the bandage covered up. I told you I didn’t want to talk to you.”
Rhodes stood up. “I know you did. That was when you had a choice. Now you don’t have one. We can prove you aren’t Edward Alvin Garver, and all the fake ID in the world won’t change that. Clean yourself up a little, and we’ll go down to the jail.”
Garver tensed and took a deep breath. Rhodes thought he was going to yell or make a break for it. Instead, Garver let the breath out slowly and relaxed.
“Can I take my truck?” he asked.
“Sure. I’ll follow you.”
“Right.”
Garver walked over to the other man, who was now watching them with obvious curiosity. The two talked for a second. Then Garver started for the front of the house without a word to Rhodes. Rhodes followed him. He could feel the other plumber watching him, but he didn’t look back.
When Garver got in his pickup, he opened the door and got a towel. After he’d cleaned himself off a bit, he threw the towel back in the pickup and brought out a cell phone. Rhodes saw him punch in some numbers. Garver waited for a few seconds and then started talking. Rhodes couldn’t hear him, thanks to the music that still played. It probably didn’t bother the owner of the house, who would have checked into a motel that had good plumbing, but Rhodes wondered if the neighbors minded it. He wouldn’t be surprised if they’d called in a complaint to the sheriff’s department.
Garver talked for quite a while. Rhodes got in the county car and waited, making a little bet with himself about who Garver was calling.
Rhodes didn’t mind waiting. Garver wasn’t going anywhere because Rhodes had parked close to the pickup’s bumper. The plumber couldn’t pull out without Rhodes moving.
Finally Garver stopped talking and started the pickup. Rhodes started the county car and backed up so Garver could leave. Then he followed Garver to the jail.
Just as they got there, a shiny black Infiniti pulled up to park. Rhodes didn’t have to see the driver to know that it was Randy Lawless. Garver had called a lawyer, and not just any lawyer. Lawless was the best in the county, the man Hugh and Lance couldn’t afford to hire this time.
Rhodes had won his bet with himself.
Chapter 18
Randy Lawless wore a blue sports coat, gray pants, and an open-necked white shirt. His black shoes were polished to a shine.
“Hey, Sheriff,” he said, coming up as Rhodes got out of the county car. “I see you’ve arrested one of my clients.”
“And a recent one at that,” Rhodes said, “if you’re talking about Ed Garver, or whoever’s in that pickup over there. Although he’s not under arrest. Yet.”
“Good, good,” Lawless said. “Maybe we can keep it that way. I’ll be sitting in with him when you question him.”
Rhodes had been hoping for a friendly chat, and if Garver had been as innocent as he claimed to be, that was what they’d have had. Having Lawless around changed things. It meant that Garver was almost certainly guilty of something, but Rhodes wasn’t sure exactly what. It could be the murders, the stolen identity, or something else. Or all of the above.
“Let’s go on inside, then,” Rhodes said, “and see what happens.”
“I’ll just talk to my client first,” Lawless said. “If you don’t mind.”
“Far be it from me to stand between a man and his making a living,”
Rhodes said. “I’ll wait for you in the jail.”
Lawless went over to talk to Garver. Rhodes watched them for a couple of seconds. Garver talked and Lawless shook his head. Rhodes wasn’t learning a thing, so he went on inside.
Hack and Lawton looked up.
“Jennifer Loam called,” Hack said. “She wanted to know what progress you were making on those killings. I told her you were busy investigating.”
“That was the truth, too,” Rhodes said. He looked at Lawton. “Is the interview room ready?”
“Sure is. It’s always ready. You want to talk to Lance and Hugh in there?”
“No, Ed Garver. He’s outside, but he’ll be coming in shortly. Randy Lawless will be with him.”
“Oh, boy,” Hack said.
“My sentiments exactly,” Rhodes said.
“You think Randy knows anything about Garver?”
“I think they just met in person out in the parking lot. They met on the phone about five minutes before that.”
“So Randy’s as much in the dark as we are.”
“Garver’s probably filling him in right now,” Rhodes said.
“I bet it’s a good story,” Lawton said. “I bet Garver’s a bank robber. What d’you think, Hack?”
“You already took the easy answer,” Hack said. “You always take the easy answer.”
“That’s ’cause I’m quick-witted and speak up first.”
“Quick-witted? I guess that’s close. I’d say you were about half right.”
Lawton’s face got red. “You better watch how you talk about me.”
“I’m just sayin’.”
“I’ll show you who’s just sayin’.”
Lawton started toward Hack’s desk, but the dispatcher was saved from whatever Lawton had planned by the entrance of Garver and his lawyer.
“We’re ready to talk to you, Sheriff,” Lawless said. “Lead the way.”
Rhodes looked at Hack and Lawton, who had already calmed down. They were doing their best to look as if nothing had happened.
“Just follow me,” Rhodes said to Garver and Lawless, and he led them to the interview room, which was furnished with an old table and four wooden folding chairs. Rhodes pulled one of the chairs up to the table and sat down. Lawless and Garver sat opposite him.
A digital recorder sat in the middle of the table, and Rhodes turned it on.
“Now, then,” Lawless said. He nodded at the recorder. “Before we start serious talking, I want to know if you’re planning to charge my client. If you’re not, he doesn’t have to answer any questions.”
“Let’s hear what he has to say,” Rhodes said. “Maybe he’d like to talk. What about it, Ed?”
Rhodes used the name sarcastically, to see if it got a rise out of Garver.
It didn’t, but it did get a mild response. “I have something to talk about, I guess.”
“You know the consequences,” Lawless said.
“Yeah. You told me already.”
Lawless shrugged. “It’s your choice, then.”
“Yeah. Okay. Here’s the deal, Sheriff. I’m not really Ed Garver.”
“We’d already established that,” Rhodes said, not surprised in the least. “So who are you?”
“I’m William Dale Dalton.”
“Fine. Who’s William Dale Dalton?”
“Me.”
Rhodes looked at Lawless. Lawless just grinned.
“That’s not exactly what I meant,” Rhodes said. “Let’s try it this way. Why have you been posing as Ed Garver?”
“Because I got scared.”
It was just as Rhodes suspected. He was never going to get a straight answer from anyone ever again. He was, however, going to keep trying.
“Scared of what?” he asked.
“Scared of my wife.”
Rhodes didn’t know what answer he’d been expecting, but that wasn’t it.
“Your wife?”
“Sheila. That’s her name. Sheila Dalton. Well, Sheila Herndon Dalton, if you want the whole thing. She was a Herndon before she married me. I should’ve known better than to marry a Herndon, to tell you the truth. They’re all of them crazy. I wasn’t so much scared of her as of her brothers.”
“I don’t think I’m following you,” Rhodes said.
“It’s like this, Sheriff. Sheila and I got along real good before we got married, but after we lived together a few years, it turned out that we got on each other’s nerves. You know how it is.”
Rhodes didn’t know how it was, not precisely. He thought that couples learned to accept any little flaws they saw in each other and kept on going, maybe loving each other more because of the flaws. If it didn’t work out, though, there was always divorce.
“How bad was it?” Rhodes asked.
Garver, or Dalton as Rhodes thought of him now, put his arms on the table and leaned forward. “Bad. Real bad. She cussed me all the time, and she claimed I was running around with Marilyn Hendricks. I wasn’t, but after a while I wished I was. Marilyn’s kinda cute, and she doesn’t cuss, at least as far as I know.”
“That’s all?” Rhodes asked.
“No, I could’ve stood the cussing and the accusing. She hit me, too.”
Rhodes looked at Dalton. He wasn’t a big man, but he wasn’t small, either.
“Sheila’s a big woman, Sheriff,” Dalton said. “Arms like this.” He held up his hands and described a circle the size of a dinner plate. “She’s mean, too, mean as a snake.”
“You could have tried counseling,” Rhodes said. “Or even gotten a divorce.”
“You don’t know her brothers,” Dalton said. “They blamed me for the trouble. She’s their little sister, and they’re even bigger and meaner than she is.” Dalton paused. “Well, meaner, anyway.”
“So you left,” Rhodes said.
“So I left. I looked around on the Internet and found out how to get somebody else’s name, and I did it. I don’t know what else you think I did, but that’s the only thing.”
“Where did you leave from?” Rhodes asked. “I don’t think you mentioned that.”
“Ozark,” Dalton said. “Ozark, Arkansas.”
“Satisfied, Sheriff?” Lawless asked. “He’s guilty of running away, but it’s not a big deal. I think we can work something out, don’t you?”
“Not right now,” Rhodes said. “He still hasn’t told me the main thing I need to know.”
“There’s more?”
“Just one thing,” Rhodes said. “You were hunting hogs on the Leverett place two nights ago. I know you were there, and I know something happened that nobody’s talking about. I want to know what it was.”
Dalton looked at Lawless. The attorney said, “You don’t have to tell him.”
“That’s right,” Rhodes said. “You don’t have to tell me, but you should.”
“You’re not threatening my client, are you, Sheriff?” Lawless asked.
“Me? I never threaten people,” Rhodes said. “I’m just saying that he should tell me. He’s admitted a criminal act, and I thought he might want to mitigate it by telling me something I need to know.”
“What criminal act would that be, Sheriff?”
“I don’t have a copy of the Penal Code right here with me,” Rhodes said, “but it’s an offense if somebody uses the identity of a deceased person without legal authorization.”
“That’s true enough,” Lawless said, “but you left out the part about intent to defraud. Can you prove that Mr. Garver, uh, Dalton, had that intent?”
“I’d say he was defrauding his wife, his employer, and even me, but I don’t have to prove it. That’s up to the courts. I’m sure you can mount a fine defense for him if he’s got the money to pay you.”
“I don’t want to get into a court fight,” Dalton said. “That way those Herndon brothers will find me for sure.”
Dalton had lived in Clearview as Garver for a couple of years. Rhodes doubted that the Herndons were still looking for him, if they e
ver had been. Rhodes hadn’t entirely bought the story.
“We might be able to avoid any court fight,” Rhodes said. “If you tell me what happened out there that night.”
Dalton didn’t say anything. He didn’t look at his attorney, either. He just stared at the table in front of him.
“What my client’s done doesn’t qualify as a felony,” Lawless said. “He didn’t defraud anybody for gain. He wouldn’t have to do jail time.”
“We’ll see,” Rhodes said. “It would still be better if he’d talk to me.”
Dalton looked up. “I promised I wouldn’t say anything to anybody. You might think I don’t know you got Hugh and Lance in jail here because they wouldn’t tell you, but I know, all right.”
“It’s no secret they’re here,” Rhodes said, “but it’s not because they wouldn’t tell me what I wanted to know. It’s because they assaulted me.”
“Well, they just did that because you tried to make ’em talk.”
Rhodes didn’t respond to that. He leaned back in his chair and waited. Sooner or later, somebody was going to tell him. Rhodes thought it would be Dalton.
“What happens if I don’t tell you?”
“Nothing much,” Rhodes said. “Unless you’ve been cheating the tax man. The IRS doesn’t like it when that happens.”
“I’m no crook. I told Mr. Allison the whole story. He knows who I am, and I’m paying taxes as Dalton.”
That explained why Trey had been so nervous, Rhodes thought.
“Well, at least the IRS won’t be after you, but whether you talk or not, you’re not going to be Ed Garver anymore. Do people call you William or Bill?”
“Neither one. Willie’s what I used to go by. Willie Dalton.”
Rhodes excused himself and left the room. He went out to where Hack was and told him to get Ruth on the radio.
“Have her check on William Dale Dalton, a.k.a. Willie Dalton, from Ozark, Arkansas. See what she can come up with.”
“Okay. Anything else?”
“That’s it. I’ll check with you later.”
Rhodes left Hack and went back to the interview room. Lawless and Dalton were talking, but they stopped when he came in.
