by Bill Crider
“Little bigger market than Clearview,” Rhodes said.
“There was trouble, though,” Ruth said. “He had to leave.”
Rhodes wasn’t surprised. “What kind of trouble?”
“Wife trouble.”
Rhodes looked at Hack and Lawton, both of whom wore bland, innocent looks. They might have been innocent, but even if they were, Rhodes blamed them for Ruth’s making him draw out the story.
“What kind of wife trouble?”
“It wasn’t his wife. It was the station manager’s wife. I found a couple of stories about it in the archives of the local paper. Not on the front page, but hidden away. The station manager caught his wife out with Munday at some kind of club. There was what the paper called an altercation. Munday left the station, and he wound up here.”
That explained something Rhodes had wondered about. If people knew about Munday’s troubles, they wouldn’t be so eager to hire him, and Rhodes was sure the station manager had let people know. He might even have engaged in a little blackballing, so it was no wonder that Munday had taken a job in a small market like Clearview. He might not have been able to get anything else.
Still, Shreveport wasn’t far from Arkansas, which seemed to be the connection in all that was happening. Rhodes couldn’t write him off. It wouldn’t hurt to talk to him.
“I checked on Garver’s story, too,” Ruth said. “He was telling the truth, or something like it.”
“How much like it?” Rhodes asked.
“Enough. You know how eyewitnesses are.”
Rhodes knew more than he wanted to about that. Eyewitnesses were notoriously unreliable. One person would swear that one thing happened, while someone else at the same scene would swear just the opposite.
“You mean his wife might have a slightly different version,” Rhodes said.
“Right, but it’s basically the same story. More or less.”
“I’m still not ready to rule him out,” Rhodes said. “I doubt that Rapper is, either.”
“You think Rapper’s gonna cause any more trouble?” Hack asked.
“Sure he is,” Rhodes said. “He’s not satisfied. He hasn’t killed anybody yet.”
As he said it, he remembered that Rapper hadn’t tried to kill anybody, just injure them. He must have been saving the killing part until he was sure of who the guilty party was. Either that, or he was content to beat people up. Fowler had gotten away, so it would be his turn next.
As he thought about that, Rhodes realized that he hadn’t given enough consideration to Fowler and Winston as suspects in the murders. He’d seen them both at the end of the chase on the night Rapinski was killed, but he’d lost sight of both of them in the woods before they reached the bayed animal. Either one of them could have been separated from the others long enough to have killed the bounty hunter. Rhodes had concentrated on Garver because he was so obviously out of sight of everyone, and that had been a mistake.
“Duke’s on tonight, right?” Rhodes asked.
“That’s right,” Hack said.
“Tell him to keep an eye on Fowler’s place. Rapper might turn up there. Tell him I’ll see him later on.”
“Gotcha,” Hack said.
“Ruth, you check up on Arvid Fowler.”
“Hold on,” Lawton said. “Arvid’s lived around here for a long time. You don’t think he’s done anything wrong, do you?”
Lawton was right. Arvid had been in Clearview for at least fifteen years, but he’d kept pretty much to himself. Other than the hog hunters, he wasn’t involved with anybody else in the community as far as Rhodes knew.
Fowler had his own electrical business, and he was known to be good at what he did. Good enough for Ivy to call him when there was a problem with the air conditioner. He didn’t have a fancy house or drive a new pickup. If he was wealthy from some source of ill-gotten gains, there wasn’t any evidence of it in the way he lived.
Or was there? Fowler and his wife took several vacations a year, sometimes for a couple of weeks. Could he have done that on what he charged for electrical work? Considering his rates, it was possible.
“Ivy says he overcharged us for some work on our air conditioner,” Rhodes said.
“Get a rope,” Hack said.
“I don’t think we need to go that far,” Rhodes said.
“Ivy might.”
“I doubt it.”
“She can be mighty tough,” Lawton said, “but I guess you know all about that.”
“I know enough,” Rhodes said. “Ruth, while you’re at it, check on Len Winston, too. Short for Leonard.”
“Nothin’ wrong with Len,” Lawton said. “I’ve known him since he was a kid. You must really be outta leads when you go after somebody like Len.”
“I’m not out of leads,” Rhodes said. “I’m just being sure I don’t overlook anything.”
“He’s outta leads,” Hack said to Lawton. “Next thing you know he’ll be gettin’ testy with us. He always gets testy when he’s outta leads.”
Rhodes glanced at Ruth, who seemed to be enjoying the banter far too much, but he resolved not to get testy.
Then Jennifer Loam came in.
“Sheriff’s got a bunch of leads,” Hack said before she could speak. “Ask him if you don’t believe me.”
“I was wondering about that,” Jennifer said. “You haven’t been in touch with me, Sheriff, and I’ve called here several times.”
“I told him you did,” Hack said. “He would’ve called you back, but he’s been busy runnin’ down all those leads.”
“I’ve been doing a little background work,” Jennifer said, ignoring Hack. “I thought you might like to know what I’ve found out.”
“Every little bit helps,” Rhodes said.
“It’s a little bit, all right, but I was wondering where Gary Baty stayed while he was in town. I checked the motels, and he didn’t stay in any of them.”
“We checked, too,” Rhodes said. “The way he turned up here and the little petty thefts now and then more or less indicated he was coming into town and then leaving again. I don’t think he wanted to hang around. He might have known he was in danger.”
“So you do have some leads,” Jennifer said.
“Just like I told you,” Hack said. “A whole bunch of leads.”
“Not leads,” Rhodes said. “Just ideas and speculations. Right now, that’s all I have.”
“Do you have anything you can act on?”
“I’m waiting for more information,” Rhodes said, without admitting that she’d just given him another idea for something to check on. It was something he’d do himself as soon as she left.
“You’re not holding out on me, are you?” Jennifer asked. “I don’t want Milton Munday to scoop me.”
They all had a little laugh at that, though Rhodes didn’t laugh as much as Hack and Lawton.
Jennifer said a few words to Ruth, and then she was gone.
“You really ought not to mislead the press,” Hack said.
“I wasn’t misleading anybody,” Rhodes said. “Maybe I do have some leads.”
“Humpf,” Hack said.
He started to work on his own computer, which he used mainly for writing up reports. This time, he went into the complaints received by the department. Sure enough, there was an interesting correspondence. Maybe it meant nothing. Maybe it did. He’d wait on some more reports before he decided.
He wished there was some way he could check on Arvid Fowler’s vacations and see if they matched up with the times of the bank robberies. He needed the information on the robberies first, so he asked Ruth to get that for him.
“Where you goin’?” Hack asked as Rhodes started to leave. “Gonna run down some of those leads?”
“No,” Rhodes said. “I’m going home and eat supper.”
* * *
Rhodes had missed lunch again, so he thought he deserved a night out. Ivy was willing, so they went to Max’s Place for barbecue. Seepy Benton had a gig per
forming at the restaurant on some nights, playing guitar and singing his own compositions, and sure enough, this was one of those nights, according to a computer-printed notice on the door.
“How lucky can we get,” Rhodes said.
“What do you mean?” Ivy asked.
Rhodes didn’t get a chance to answer because Max Schwartz came over to greet them as they entered. Schwartz had a music store as well as the barbecue restaurant, but neither one of them was doing well, or so Rhodes had heard. Rhodes wondered if Schwartz would be able to keep them going.
“Things are looking up,” Schwartz said when Rhodes asked him how business was. “Benton’s been packing them in. I think his students like to come hear him sing.”
Rhodes looked across the dining area. He did see a few young people in the sparse crowd. He also saw the Eccles cousins. It was nice of them to support Benton. After all, he’d gone their bail.
Schwartz led Rhodes and Ivy to a table and gave them a menu. He’d bought the building after the death of a man named Jerry Kergan, and since it wasn’t set up for cafeteria-style dining like a lot of barbecue restaurants, he’d decided to go for a more upscale approach.
“The sauce is the key,” he’d once told Rhodes. “The meat matters, but the sauce has to be good or nobody’s coming back a second time.”
Rhodes liked the sauce, which Schwartz had concocted himself from a now-secret recipe, but the brisket was lean and tender and sliced thin. It was so good it didn’t even need the sauce, though Rhodes never turned it down.
“I think I’ll have the ribs tonight,” Ivy said. “With all the fixings.”
“The brisket dinner for me,” Rhodes said. After all the vegetarian meals he’d had lately, he could use some beef. He handed Schwartz the menu. “Why isn’t Benton singing?”
“It’s his break. He’s right over there.”
Rhodes hadn’t noticed, but Benton was sitting at a table in a corner, and there was someone with him. Ruth Grady. Rhodes had seen them together before, and he couldn’t quite grasp the fact that Ruth would be interested in Benton, though he knew why Benton might be fascinated with Ruth. She was in law enforcement, after all, and Benton fancied himself a sort of unofficial deputy. The fact that she was smart, young, and cute might have had something to do with it, too.
“I wonder if it would be wrong to talk business with Ruth,” Rhodes said after Schwartz left their table.
“Yes,” Ivy said. “She’s busy.”
Rhodes had known she’d say that. He didn’t know why he’d even bothered to ask. He unrolled the cloth napkin beside his plate and arranged his silverware. He glanced over at the Eccles cousins, but they weren’t looking his way.
A waiter brought glasses of ice water to the table, and Rhodes took a sip. The ice cubes bumped against his teeth. When he set the glass down, Benton was standing at the table.
“I’ve been thinking, Sheriff,” he said, after greeting Rhodes and Ivy.
“Always a dangerous thing for you to do,” Rhodes said, and Ivy kicked his ankle under the table.
“It’s about that movie Avatar,” Benton said. “Have you seen it?”
Rhodes didn’t have any idea what the movie had to do with anything, but it didn’t matter since he hadn’t seen it and wasn’t likely to. From what he’d heard, it wasn’t the kind of film that would look good on a TV set, and he preferred lower-budget movies anyway.
“Haven’t seen it,” he said. “What have you been thinking?”
“Well, the word Na’vi used in the film is also the Hebrew word for ‘prophet.’ Its literal meaning is ‘mouthpiece,’ which is how people thought of the prophet in ancient times. He was an avatar of God’s voice. And Eywah, the name of the deity on Pandora, is an alternate pronunciation of the Hebrew Yahweh. Did you know there are no vowels in Hebrew?”
Rhodes admitted that he hadn’t known that.
“I did,” Ivy said, and Benton nodded his approval.
“Since there aren’t any vowels,” he said, “you can take the same spelling for Yahweh and pronounce it as Eywah or Yaywah, which happens to be the most sacred name for God in the Cherokee language. Only their priests were allowed to pronounce it, just as only the Hebrew priests were allowed to pronounce the name of their God.”
Rhodes looked over to where Ruth was sitting, waiting for Benton to return. She grinned and shrugged.
“I’m sure there’s a good reason you’re telling me this,” Rhodes said to Benton.
“Not really,” Benton said, “except that sometimes you can find spirituality in strange places.” He nodded toward the Eccles cousins, who were eating ribs and laughing at the same time. “Even Lance and Hugh have a spiritual side, and I think you’ll come to realize that they didn’t mean you any harm yesterday.”
“Don’t count on it,” Rhodes said.
“I’m a math teacher,” Benton said. “I count on everything. It’s been great to see the two of you. I hope you’ll stay for my show.”
Rhodes didn’t say anything, but Ivy said, “We’ll be here for a while.”
“Good,” Benton said. “I’ll dedicate a song to you. How about ‘Ghost Riders in the Sky’?”
“I thought you sang songs you wrote yourself,” Rhodes said.
“I usually do, but my version of that one’s pretty popular on YouTube. At least twenty-five people have looked at it. You should check it out.”
Rhodes tried not to look incredulous. “You’re on YouTube?”
“Isn’t everybody?” Benton asked.
He walked back to his table, and Rhodes said to Ivy, “Twenty-five?”
“Maybe he meant twenty-five thousand,” Ivy said.
“No, I’m pretty sure he meant twenty-five,” Rhodes said.
“He’s a little odd, isn’t he?”
“A little?”
“Just a little, and he’s a very smart man. You should listen to him.”
“That’s what he tells me,” Rhodes said.
Their food came then, and Rhodes forgot about Benton as he dug in. The sauce was tangy and sweet, and Rhodes was about half finished with the meal when Benton started his program. He strummed his guitar, tapped the microphone with his index finger, and announced that his first number would be “Ghost Riders in the Sky,” dedicated to Sheriff Dan Rhodes.
“He’s not going to make anybody forget Gene Autry,” Rhodes said, as Benton started to sing.
“Much less Riders in the Sky,” Ivy said. “The group, I mean, not the song.” She paused. “Do you think the Eccles cousins are spiritual?”
Rhodes looked over at the two men, who both seemed to be listening intently to the song. Their apparent absorption didn’t change his opinion of them.
“Not in the least,” he said.
Chapter 22
Rhodes dropped Ivy at home after they’d eaten and listened to a couple of songs by Seepy Benton. Then he drove out toward Arvid Fowler’s place, thinking all the way about spirituality and the Eccles cousins. It hadn’t been too long since Rhodes had experienced something strange with some turtles, something he’d never mentioned to Benton and never would. It had been close enough to a mystical experience to baffle Rhodes, however, so maybe Benton had a point about Lance and Hugh. Not that Rhodes would ever admit it.
While they were driving home from Max’s Place, Rhodes had told Ivy about Arvid Fowler’s vacations and asked if she had any thoughts about how to find out when Fowler had left town.
As usual, Ivy had come up with a good idea. “I can just call Bennie Fowler and ask her. I’ll tell her that you and I are thinking about taking some time off, and we’d like to know where she and Arvid went.”
Rhodes had said he didn’t know how that would help.
“I’ll tell them that we’d like to know the best time of year to go to those places.”
That would work, Rhodes thought. Even if the Fowlers hadn’t gone where they said they’d be going, Bennie would give away the times when they’d left town. The times might not be exact
, but they’d be close enough to give Rhodes something to work with.
He got Hack on the radio and asked where Duke was.
“He just checked in about five minutes ago. He was about to drive by Fowler’s again. He says it’s been clear the last couple of times.”
Rhodes looked at the green glow of the dashboard clock. It was three minutes past eight. Rhodes didn’t think Rapper would do anything so early in the evening, and maybe he wouldn’t do anything at all. It didn’t hurt to be careful, however.
Fowler lived out toward Milsby, just outside the Clearview city limits. Beside his house he had a little shop building made of sheet metal where he did minor electrical repairs and stored parts. There were other houses nearby, but in the back there were open fields. It would be simple for Rapper to find a way to get to the house or the shop without being seen. He’d be heard, of course, if he rode his motorcycle, but Rapper was sneakier than that. Rhodes knew he’d figure out a way to get there without being detected if he wanted to get at Fowler.
Rhodes saw the red taillights of a car just ahead of him. It was Duke’s county car, so Rhodes popped his flasher. Duke pulled over. Rhodes parked behind him and got out.
“I swear I wasn’t speeding,” Duke said as Rhodes approached.
It was an old joke, but Rhodes smiled anyway. Duke Pearson was an experienced cop who’d come back to Clearview so his wife could care for her mother, who had some form of dementia. He’d been looking for a job, and his experience made him a perfect fit for the sheriff’s department.
“How’s your wife’s mother?” Rhodes asked.
“About as well as can be expected. Callie’s helping out with her tonight.”
Callie was Callie Swan, a local woman who sat with the sick or helped out around the house or did whatever needed to be done. She was a good person to know.
“Seen anything around Fowler’s house?”
“It’s all quiet as far as I can tell the couple of times I’ve been by. Haven’t heard or seen anything unusual.”
“Let’s drive past and take a look,” Rhodes said. “I’ll ride with you.”
He got in on the passenger side, and Duke drove down the road past Fowler’s house. A light glowed in one of the rooms, and Rhodes caught a glimpse of a TV screen through the window. Everything seemed normal, but Rhodes thought it wasn’t quite right. It took him a second to figure out why.
