Bill Crider - Dan Rhodes 20 - Compound Murder

by Bill Crider

  Seepy Benton had given him some people to talk to about the rumors surrounding Wellington, but Rhodes didn’t know where that would lead him. He didn’t have great hopes that he’d find out anything useful. On the other hand, Benton had mentioned once before that the faculty members loved gossip. Maybe talking to them would lead to something.

  “You have a lot on your mind?” Ivy asked when they reached the house.

  “No more than usual,” Rhodes said.

  “Maybe I can take your mind off those things and put something else on it.”

  “That sounds promising.”

  “You better believe it, pal,” Ivy said in her best Cagney voice. Or maybe it was her Bogart voice.

  Rhodes couldn’t tell the difference, but that didn’t matter. He believed it.

  * * *

  The next morning the phone rang just as Rhodes finished feeding Speedo. He was in the kitchen, watching the two cats sleeping by the refrigerator, perfectly at ease with each other. The animal who wasn’t at ease was Yancey, who wouldn’t come in the kitchen. He hadn’t even crossed it to go outside for a little romp with Speedo earlier. Rhodes figured that the dog’s feelings were hurt but that he’d get over it.

  Ivy answered the phone, then handed it to Rhodes.

  “It’s the mayor,” she said.

  Great, Rhodes thought. Just what he needed. The mayor, Clifford Clement, wasn’t one of Rhodes’s biggest fans ever since a previous case in which he’d been a suspect. It never paid to suspect the mayor, especially when the city contracted with the county to provide law enforcement. Rhodes didn’t know why Clement was calling, but he was sure it wouldn’t be to tell Rhodes what a wonderful sheriff he was and what a fine job the department was doing.

  Rhodes was right. At first, however, Clement wasn’t upset. It took him a while to work up to that state.

  “I understand you have someone in jail for the killing at the college,” he said after Rhodes took the phone.

  “There are several people in jail,” Rhodes said, “but I don’t think any of them killed Earl Wellington.”

  “I was told that you had one of the Terrells. Everybody knows they’re all crazy down at that compound.”

  “They aren’t crazy, just a little odd, and the one in the jail’s not a killer. I don’t think any of them are killers. They want to be left alone, that’s all.”

  “This is terrible publicity for the city and the college,” Clement said. “What if the college decides to pull out of Clearview? We can’t have that.”

  Like the dean, the mayor seemed more interested in how Wellington’s death would affect his own bailiwick than in seeing justice done. It was an attitude that Rhodes understood but didn’t appreciate.

  “You’d better get this wrapped up quickly, Sheriff,” Clement said. “If you don’t, the city council will have to reconsider Clearview’s relationship with your department.”

  Rhodes had to smile because it wasn’t much of a threat. The city was about as likely to create its own police force as Seepy Benton was to fly to the moon, though of course that was always a possibility.

  “The department is devoting all its resources to solving the case,” Rhodes said. That was the kind of phrasing that the mayor understood.

  “It had better, and while you’re at it, you might want to do something about that Web site the Herald’s ex-reporter has. She’s sensationalizing everything, and it’s not good for the town or anybody in it.”

  Rhodes wasn’t sure what Clement thought the sheriff’s department could do about a Web site. He looked across the kitchen at Ivy, who smiled at him. The cats slept on. Yancey had disappeared. Rhodes couldn’t count on getting help from any of them.

  “What should I do?” he asked. “Arrest her?”

  “Are you trying to be funny?” Clement asked.

  “No,” Rhodes said. “Just asking for some idea of what I should do.”

  “Never mind. I’ll talk to her myself.”

  Rhodes would have paid to be at that confrontation. Jennifer Loam could stand up to anybody, and would. Clement wasn’t going to win that one.

  “Great idea,” Rhodes said. “I’m sure she’ll be reasonable.”

  “She’d better be,” Clement said, “and you’d better get things wrapped up out at the college.”

  “Count on it,” Rhodes said.

  “I will,” Clement told him, and he hung up.

  “Great way to start the day,” Rhodes said as he hung up his own phone.

  “How about some Mr. PiBB to keep that feeling going,” Ivy said.

  “You’re not any funnier than I am,” Rhodes said.

  When he left the kitchen, Yancey looked up at him with big, sad, accusing eyes.

  “You need to get used to having another cat in the house,” Rhodes said. “It’s not like you haven’t learned to deal with Sam. You’ll figure out Jerry, too.”

  Yancey hung his head, and he didn’t even bother to yip.

  Chapter 13

  Before he went to the jail, Rhodes stopped by the courthouse. He had an office there as well as his desk at the jail, but he didn’t spend much time at the courthouse. He wasn’t there to visit his office. He was there to talk to the judge, the prosecutor, and Ike’s court-appointed lawyer. Rhodes recommended to them that Ike Terrell be released on his own recognizance. Ike had no record of any previous run-ins with the law, and Rhodes left the meeting convinced that Ike would get a break.

  When he got to the jail, Hack and Lawton were ready for him. He could tell by the way they looked that something was going on. He put off letting them get started on him by securing Wellington’s personal effects in the evidence room.

  When he got back to his desk, he avoided looking at Hack and Lawton. Instead he checked to see if Ruth had examined Wellington’s laptop. She had, and Rhodes looked over her report. She’d found nothing of interest other than the fact that Wellington must have liked games. He hadn’t even searched any porn sites.

  Rhodes put down the report. Having put it off as long as he could, he asked Hack and Lawton what they had for him.

  “Had some more copper thefts last night,” Hack said. “Just like the others this week. They got the air conditioner at the Baptist church. Pulled all the coils out. Duke’s on it already. He’ll check by the recycling center, too, after he’s finished at the church.”

  The recycling center’s actual name was the Blacklin County Environmental Reclamation Center. Rhodes was pretty sure that any criminal activity had stopped there after his last run-in with the people in charge. It wouldn’t hurt for Duke to pay them a visit, however.

  Hack’s straightforward answer had been encouraging. Rhodes thought he might get through the day without having to listen to any of Hack and Lawton’s complicated tales of wrongdoing in the county. Then he made the mistake of asking if anything else was going on.

  “Got a water problem,” Hack said. “Over at Mr. Murphy’s house. Dwight Murphy. You know him?”

  Rhodes never knew where Hack was going when one of these conversations got started, but this time he was more puzzled than usual.

  “I know Mr. Murphy. He used to deliver the mail on one of the rural routes.”

  Murphy had retired from his job with the postal service several years ago, maybe ten years. Rhodes wasn’t sure.

  “Did he call the Water Department?” Rhodes asked.

  “Nope. He says this is a job for the sheriff.”

  Like Hannah Bigelow’s wild hog, Rhodes thought. Everything was a job for the sheriff, no matter what else he was dealing with at the time.

  “It’s his water heater,” Lawton said, picking up the story.

  “Okay,” Rhodes said. “I can see that a water heater’s not a job for the Water Department. It’s a job for a plumber. I’m not a plumber.”

  Truer words had never been spoken. The last time Rhodes had tried a “simple” plumbing job was when he’d bought a new faucet for the kitchen. After a couple of hours, with Ivy offering helpf
ul advice and commentary throughout the process, Rhodes had given up and called a plumber. He’d felt lucky that the plumber hadn’t charged him extra for the job after the mess Rhodes had made of it.

  “Mr. Murphy doesn’t think a plumber can handle this job,” Hack said. “It’s not like the water heater’s leaking or anything.”

  Rhodes had never heard of any other kind of problem with a water heater, though he supposed if it was a gas heater, it could’ve exploded.

  “Did the thing blow up?”

  “Nope,” Hack said. “It’s all in one piece, far as I know.”

  “I give up,” Rhodes said, and he meant that in more ways than one. “What’s the problem with the water heater?”

  “It’s talking to him,” Hack said.

  “Talking to him?”

  “That’s what he said.”

  “Is it speaking a language he can understand?”

  “I guess it is. He said it was using cuss words. You wouldn’t think a water heater’d know words like that.”

  “Didn’t have a good upbringin’,” Lawton said. “That’s what I think. It’s a shame what this country is comin’ to when even the water heaters can’t be civil.”

  “What does Mr. Murphy want us to do?” Rhodes asked, though he had a feeling that he knew the answer.

  “Wants you to come over and talk to the water heater,” Lawton said. “Maybe arrest it for abusive language.”

  “Scare it straight,” Hack said. “Tell it if it doesn’t shape up, you’ll lock it up and throw away the key.”

  Rhodes sighed. “I have other things to do.”

  “I know that,” Hack said. “That’s what I told him. You don’t need to worry about it. I sent Buddy over.”

  “Uh-oh,” Rhodes said. Buddy had a puritanical streak. “You know how Buddy feels about cussing.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that, either,” Hack said. “I told Buddy not to shoot it, even if it got smart with him or said a few bad words. He won’t let it get to him. You can rest easy.”

  Rhodes hoped so. Wild hogs were one thing. He could deal with those. Talking water heaters were something else entirely.

  “If Buddy blows up the house, it’s on you,” Rhodes said. “He has to be back here to escort Ike to the courtroom, too.”

  “Buddy’ll be fine. He’ll take care of Mr. Murphy and be here on time. Trust me.”

  Rhodes didn’t see that he had any choice.

  “I need to have a little conversation with Ike Terrell before he goes before the judge,” Rhodes said. “Is he okay this morning?”

  “As okay as anybody who’s spent his first night in the jail,” Lawton told him. “He’s not happy.”

  “Maybe he’ll be happier after I talk to him.”

  “You’re always a ray of sunshine,” Hack said. “Ever’body’s always happy to see you comin’.”

  “Not everybody,” Rhodes said.

  * * *

  Rhodes hoped he hadn’t made a mistake in trying to get Ike released on a personal bond, but he did have an ulterior motive. He thought that if he talked to Ike again, maybe he could use the bond as leverage to get some more information.

  Ike sat up on the edge of the bunk when Rhodes tapped on one of the bars of the cell door. Ike’s hair was a mess, and he didn’t look quite as chipper as he had the previous day. The night in jail seemed to have taken away a little of his cockiness, which Rhodes thought was most likely a good thing.

  “Ready to go before the judge?” he asked.

  Ike ran his fingers through his hair, but that didn’t do much for it.

  “I guess I am. What happens then?”

  “That depends,” Rhodes said.

  Ike perked up a little. “Depends on what?”

  “It might be that I can get you a personal bond. No money involved. All you have to do is swear before the judge that you’ll appear in court on the date and time he appoints.”

  “I don’t know if I can promise that.”

  “Sure you can. If it’s your father you’re worried about, there’s no problem. I’ve talked to him. He’s the one who suggested it.”

  Ike looked skeptical. “You talked to him?”

  “I went to the compound. Met with him and a friend of his called Duffy, who says he was your math teacher when you were being homeschooled.”

  “Duffy? I guess he tried. I learned most of my math off the Internet, but I needed somebody to help me with the stuff, and Duffy had trouble with most of the problems. That’s why I wanted to go to the college, to get some real help. Dr. Benton’s really good about that. He knows what he’s doing.”

  Rhodes didn’t know if he’d bother to pass along the compliment. Seepy’s opinion of himself was already high enough.

  “I didn’t meet your mother,” Rhodes said. “Duffy told me that she was your English teacher.”

  “They believe in keeping women out of sight,” Ike said. He was loosening up a little, and Rhodes hoped he could keep him talking. “Their opinions don’t amount to much.”

  “Your mother knows how to use a semicolon, though.”

  “She’s a good writer. Better than my father and Duffy, that’s for sure.”

  “I guess she taught you about plagiarism, then.”

  Ike frowned. “You’re not going to start about that, are you?”

  “It’s important,” Rhodes said. “If you’re going to get that personal bond, you need to convince me that you didn’t have anything to do with Earl Wellington’s death. From all I’ve heard, you’re the only one with a motive.”

  “I knew I shouldn’t have started talking to you. I don’t even have a lawyer. I was an idiot.”

  “We’re just having a friendly conversation,” Rhodes said. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. I’m just trying to help you out.”

  “Maybe. My dad says I shouldn’t trust any representative of the government, and that’s what you are.”

  “The county pays me, all right, but you have to remember that your father trusted me. He even invited me to his house to talk.”

  “He didn’t come to town, though. He never comes to town. That’s because he doesn’t trust you or anybody else.”

  “If that’s the way you feel…”

  “I didn’t cheat on that paper. I wrote it all myself. I’m a good writer, and Dr. Wellington just didn’t want to admit it. He thinks that because I come from an unusual family and was homeschooled that I can’t write. He’s wrong about it, though.”

  Rhodes remembered enough from his own English classes to know that Ike was using the wrong verb tense. Maybe that was because the reality of Wellington’s death hadn’t sunk in on him yet because he hadn’t been involved in it.

  Or maybe Rhodes was just reading way too much into verb tense. He wished he could be sure about Ike.

  “What about those other problems you have?” Rhodes asked. “The hair, for example.”

  “What hair?”

  Rhodes wasn’t going to play that game anymore. “You know what hair, and here’s what I know. I know you hadn’t paid your bookstore bill and your tuition for the semester. I know you were about to have to drop your classes because of that. So what I think is that you stole the hair because you thought you could sell it somewhere and make some quick money. Why didn’t you get it from your family or get a job?”

  “You really think my father would let me work in town? Do you really think he has enough money to send me to college? Even if he would let me work here, do you think anybody would give me a job? Everybody knows whose son I am. They don’t trust me because of that, any more than my father trusts them. Even if I get out of here on a personal bond, I still don’t have a job. I still don’t have any money, and I’m going to be in all kinds of trouble about what happened yesterday.”

  It was a bad situation, all right, but there had to be a way out of it. Rhodes couldn’t think of what it might be, but he’d work on it if Ike would cooperate.

  “Are you going to m
ake that statement to the judge?” he asked.

  “I guess I am. I don’t want to stay in jail.”

  “Good. I want to talk to you again about all this. I’ll be in touch.”

  Ike didn’t appear to be thrilled at that idea. Rhodes left him there to mull it over.

  * * *

  Rhodes thought it would be a good idea to have an expert look at Wellington’s cell phone, but since there were no experts at hand, he’d have to do it himself. He got the phone from the evidence room and checked it out.

  All the voice mails, if there had been any, were deleted. So were all the recent calls. The contacts included only the college in Clearview and the main campus in another county. No help at all. Rhodes wrote down the number for the main campus and put the phone back in the evidence room.

  Rhodes liked having a community college branch in Clearview. He liked it that the local students had a place to get an associate’s degree without having to pay the high tuition and room and board costs at a university. So he didn’t want the main campus to consider pulling out of town. He didn’t think Wellington’s death would give them any reason to do that, but it wouldn’t hurt to have a talk with the college president and reassure him. That might even be a way to find out a little bit more about Wellington.

  He made a call to the main campus number he’d gotten from Wellington’s phone and got the switchboard operator, who put him through to the president’s secretary. The secretary said that the president was in a meeting, but she was happy to give Rhodes an appointment to see him in an hour. That was fine with Rhodes. He could make the drive in a little more than half that time, so he could stop by the local branch first.

  He told Hack where he’d be, and Hack made the usual protests.

  “You oughtn’t get too far out of pocket. You never know when we’ll have an emergency around here.”

  “If we have any more wild hogs, call Alton Boyd,” Rhodes said. “For talking water heaters, Buddy’s the man.”

  Hack was going to protest further when Buddy came in.

  “I’m here to pick up Ike,” he said.

  “What about that water heater?” Rhodes asked.

  “Yeah,” Hack said. “Did it cuss you?”