by Bill Crider
“I don’t. You probably had classes here yesterday, so you have the perfect alibi.”
“How exciting.” She didn’t look excited. “I’ve never needed an alibi before.”
“You don’t really need one now,” Rhodes said. “What about those conflicts?”
“Just the usual kind of thing. Students came in all the time about things he’d said in class, little sarcastic comments, things he thought were jokes but that came across as crude and insensitive.” She paused. “Earl was a bit crude and insensitive, but I don’t think he was aware of it. He lacked social skills. Maybe he had a mild case of Asperger’s syndrome. Do you know what that is?”
“It means lacking in social skills,” Rhodes said.
Janet laughed. “This time I know you’re kidding me, Sheriff. I’m sorry if I sounded condescending.”
“You didn’t. It was a logical thing to ask.”
“Maybe. Anyway, Earl had problems, but they weren’t terrible ones. He could get by, and he was a conscientious teacher. He kept good records—excellent records, in fact. He never missed his classes, and he turned his grades in on time. You might be surprised to hear that not everybody we hire for adjunct work is like that. There’s a good reason. We pay them very little, and we demand a lot. It’s hard to blame them if they’re a little lax, but Earl never was.”
“So you didn’t have any hesitation in recommending Wellington for a full-time job.”
“That’s right. He’d worked for several years here, and this was his chance to get paid an amount commensurate with his degree. He deserved it.”
“You were getting rid of a problem, too.”
Janet bristled. “That never entered into it.”
Rhodes believed her, or he believed that she believed herself. He nodded and stood up.
“Have I been any help at all?” Janet asked.
“You have,” Rhodes said, “and I appreciate your talking to me.”
“Before you go,” Janet said, “I have a favor to ask.”
Rhodes couldn’t imagine what sort of favor he could do for her, but he said, “I’ll help if I can.”
“I hoped you’d say that.”
Janet opened the top drawer on the left side of her desk and took out a book. Rhodes’s heart sank when he saw the title. Piney Woods Terror Attack.
“I know you didn’t write it,” Janet said, laying the book on her desk and opening it to the title page. “I hoped you wouldn’t mind signing it, though. Everybody says you’re the model for the main character.”
“You must be disappointed that I left my pearl-handled .45s in the car,” Rhodes said.
“Now you’re making fun of me again.”
“Not at all. I’ll be glad to sign the book.” That wasn’t entirely true, but Rhodes didn’t think he had any choice. “How do you want me to sign it?”
Janet handed him a pen. “Just your name and title would be great.”
Rhodes wrote “Sheriff Dan Rhodes” in the book and returned the pen.
“These books are really well written,” Janet said. She put Piney Woods Terror Attack back in the drawer. “Not that I plan to teach them in my classes, but I enjoy reading them. So do a lot of other people here.”
“I’m not anything like Sage Barton,” Rhodes said. “Just so you know.”
Janet looked him over. “You’re much too modest, Sheriff Rhodes. Much too modest.”
“Now who’s kidding whom?” Rhodes asked.
“Whom?”
“I’m not just some uneducated jerk,” Rhodes said.
Janet smiled. “You really are a kidder, Sheriff.”
“Not always,” Rhodes said.
Chapter 15
Driving back to Clearview, Rhodes wondered if his trip had been worthwhile. He decided that it had. While what he’d learned about Wellington hadn’t been entirely new, it had helped him fill in his ideas about the man. It had already been clear that Wellington had problems with students and administrators, but added to that was that he seemed to enjoy the confrontations that resulted. Maybe he even encouraged them. He didn’t have the social skills that would have helped him get along better with his colleagues and students, but he was a conscientious worker. He was more strict than most teachers and didn’t mind speaking to his students when they did the least thing he considered wrong. He was exactly the kind of person who might get into an argument that turned violent.
Wellington had even mentioned Ike Terrell to Francie Solomon and had said he was going to “get” him. Rhodes didn’t know what that meant, and Welllington was no longer around to tell him. Rhodes would have liked to ask him. It would have made things a lot easier.
Another thing that Rhodes had discovered was that Wellington’s chairperson at the main campus had given him a good recommendation because she believed he deserved it. The question was, had she been telling the truth? Rhodes thought she had. She seemed like someone who could handle the kind of problems that Wellington caused without too much difficulty, so she might have expected someone else to have the same capability. Not everybody did, however. Harris seemed to have a little trouble handling things, or at least he was building up resentment because of the problems in his department.
That reminded Rhodes that Francie Solomon had mentioned something about Wellington having a problem with Harris in Clearview. There had been the plagiarism thing, but she appeared to have been talking about something else, even if she didn’t know what it was. Wellington had trouble with everyone, though, so just one more might not make much difference.
It was a little before noon when Rhodes got back to Clearview, so he thought he’d stop by the college and see if he could talk to some people before they all left for the afternoon. He knew that lots of the instructors had evening classes, and those who did seldom spent much time on campus between lunch and the start of the later sessions. Also, there was no cafeteria in the building, so even the instructors who were there in the afternoon might leave the building to go home for lunch or to go to a restaurant.
Rhodes thought that Seepy Benton usually brought his own healthy lunch, whatever that might be. Green tea to drink, maybe, and vegetables to eat. Rhodes wasn’t into healthy lunches himself.
He got to the building just as the eleven o’clock class was ending, and the hall was full of students, most of them already chatting or texting on their cell phones as soon as they cleared the classroom door. Rhodes wondered if they were telling someone what they’d learned that day or how awesome their instructor was. He didn’t think it was likely, but anything was possible.
He went up to Seepy Benton’s office. The door was shut, so he waited, hoping that Seepy would show up soon. He did, only seconds later. He was followed by a student who was asking something about a chain rule and spatial variation and functions. Rhodes didn’t understand a word of it.
Benton evidently did, however. He greeted Rhodes, opened his office door, and invited Rhodes and the student in. Before they could get through the door, Benton was at the dry-erase board, writing something that looked like fractions, except with letters. As far as Rhodes was concerned, he might as well have been writing in ancient Greek. As he wrote, he talked, and the student was jotting things down on a pad that he held.
When Benton was finished, he asked the student if he understood. Evidently he did, and he left with a smile.
Benton watched him go. “That’s why I’m awesome,” he said. “Well, that’s one reason why I’m awesome. I can explain things so students understand them.”
“Can’t every teacher do that?” Rhodes asked.
“Could all of yours?”
“Maybe,” Rhodes said. “It’s been a long time. I can’t remember. That’s not why I’m here, though.”
“You’re here on our case,” Benton said. “I haven’t done a lot of investigating, but—”
“Stop right there,” Rhodes said. “You’re not supposed to be investigating. You’re not a deputy. You’re a college math teacher. You stick to that. It’s better
for everybody.”
Benton looked pained. “But you need my help. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.”
“You can help me by not getting in the way of the investigation.”
“I wouldn’t do that. Didn’t you want to talk to some of the faculty members who were here when Wellington died?”
“Yes, but I didn’t want you to talk to them first.”
“I didn’t plan to.”
The words were hardly out of Benton’s mouth when Mary Mason appeared at his office door.
“Am I interrupting anything?” she asked.
“We were just talking about you,” Benton said.
“You were?” she asked.
“We were?” Rhodes asked.
“You wanted to talk to some of the people who hang out in the lounge in the mornings,” Benton said. “Mary’s one of them.”
Mary wore a light blue blouse and navy slacks, with a blue turquoise pendant and earrings. She had blue eyes, too, not that Rhodes was really paying attention.
“Let’s talk,” Rhodes said.
Benton cleared books and papers off the two office chairs for Rhodes and Mary to sit in. Benton sat at his desk and tried to be unobtrusive, which didn’t come easily for him.
Rhodes told Mary that he’d heard about Wellington being one of the early-morning visitors to the faculty lounge. She was one of those people who liked to talk, and that was enough to get her started.
“You should see it in the morning,” she said. “People line up at the coffeemaker with their cups in their hands. Some of them are even shaking a little. They just can’t wait for that first jolt of caffeine.” She laughed. “I should talk. After all, I’m one of them. Usually the first one in the line.”
“What about Earl Wellington?” Rhodes asked.
“He wasn’t one of the bunch,” Mary said. “Not really. He tried to be a couple of times, but it just never worked out. You know?”
Rhodes thought he knew, but he said, “I’d rather you told me.”
“He was kind of standoffish, if that’s the right word. He didn’t have much to say, and when he did say anything, it was kind of … odd. Just … off. I can’t really explain it, but when he tried to say something funny, it was never funny, and when he laughed at something someone else said, it was always too loud. Mostly, though, he didn’t laugh because he didn’t get the joke.”
“No social skills,” Rhodes said.
“That’s the truth. I think he was never a part of the group because he didn’t know how to be part of a group. He just couldn’t fit in, and after a while he stopped coming by. There was more to it than that, though. Earl was a smoker, and there’s no smoking in the building. He’d get coffee from a machine and drink it outside while he smoked.”
“Everybody else got along just fine, though,” Rhodes said.
“That’s right. A very compatible bunch except for Earl.”
“So nobody liked him.”
“You could say that, but nobody disliked him, either. It was more like he was just a piece of the furniture. Mostly we ignored him.” She paused. “That sounds awful, like we drove him away and made him go outside, but that’s really not the way it was. I think that even if we’d all liked him, he’d have gone outside for that smoke. You know how people are about cigarettes if they’re hooked.”
“I’ve heard,” Rhodes said.
Mary laughed. She had a nice laugh. “You don’t look like a smoker. You’re probably a teetotaler, too.”
Rhodes thought about how much he’d like a cold Dr Pepper.
“Mostly,” he said.
“You’re not as much like Sage Barton as people say you are.”
“I’m not like him at all,” Rhodes said.
Mary gave him an appraising look. “I wouldn’t say that.”
Rhodes felt uncomfortable with the way the conversation was going, so he got it back on track.
“What about yesterday?” he asked. “Did Wellington come by the lounge?”
“No. He hadn’t been by for at least two weeks. The usual bunch was there, but I’d left when I heard the news. I have to get the bookstore open about fifteen minutes before eight in case someone needs something for the first class.”
Benton had told Rhodes that he was in his office when he’d heard the clamor in the hallway. The others had probably been gone from the lounge, too, when the body was discovered.
“Who was there that morning?” he asked.
“The usual bunch,” Mary said. She turned to Benton. “You were there, Seepy.”
Benton nodded. “I don’t drink coffee, though. I don’t do caffeine.”
Rhodes wasn’t surprised. “Who else was there?”
“I can’t remember for sure. I know Charlotte Wilson was there. She’s the volleyball coach. Beverly was there, too. Beverly Baron. She teaches accounting. I was talking to Tom Vance about mammoths, so he was there. He was telling me about one that was found around here a few years ago. You were mentioned, Sheriff.”
Rhodes remembered the mammoth, not to mention the Bigfoot hunters and their convention that had been held around that same time.
“That must have been exciting,” Mary said. “Not finding the mammoth bones, I don’t mean that. I mean that fight to the death you had.” She gave him an admiring look. “Just like Sage Barton.”
“I wouldn’t call it a fight to the death,” Rhodes said. “I didn’t kill anybody.”
“It was thrilling just the same, the way Tom told it. The discovery of an old crime, the unexpected killer, just like a movie.”
“It wasn’t like a movie,” Rhodes said. “Just another day.”
“You Sage Barton types are so self-effacing,” Mary said.
“Who else was in the lounge?” Rhodes asked.
Mary turned to Seepy again. “See what I mean? See how he changes the subject? Self-effacing.”
“Like me,” Seepy said, and Mary laughed.
So did Rhodes, but not for long. He asked again who was in the lounge. Maybe this time he’d get an answer.
“That’s all I can remember.” Mary said. “Wait. Will was there. Will Tracy. He teaches history.”
“Anybody else?” Rhodes asked.
Mary shook her head. “That’s really all I can think of.”
“What about you, Seepy?” Rhodes asked.
“I think that might be all,” Seepy said. “Those mornings all run together after a while.”
Rhodes could see how that would happen. “None of those people could have had anything to do with Wellington’s death, then. Nobody liked him, but nobody disliked him. The only people he clashed with were Dr. Harris and Dean King.”
“Don’t forget his students,” Benton said.
“He had a lot of students. The only one who seems to have had it in for him was Ike Terrell, and I don’t think he got into a fight with him. Wellington had plans for Ike, though. He told someone he was going to get him.”
“Maybe he just meant he’d find a way to fail him,” Benton said. “He could have worked something out, some kind of extra-hard test or a pop test on a day when Ike didn’t show up for class.”
“You have a devious mind, Seepy,” Mary said. “I don’t think a dedicated teacher would do that kind of thing.”
“I wouldn’t,” Benton said, “but I’m not so sure about Wellington.”
Neither was Rhodes, but he had something else on his mind.
“You two probably want to eat lunch,” he said, “and I have some things to look into. Thanks for your help.”
“I’m brown-bagging it,” Seepy said. “Anyone care to join me in some sprouts and baked tofu? I just need to warm the baked tofu in the microwave in the lounge. It’s great on sandwiches. There’s plenty for everybody.”
“No thanks,” Rhodes and Mary said at the same time.
Chapter 16
Mary Mason walked down the hall with Rhodes. She told him that she was going to eat at Max’s Place.
“It has a great s
alad bar,” she said, “and Seepy doesn’t sing there at noon.”
“That’s something in its favor,” Rhodes said, “but I have a few things to do. I’ll eat later.”
Mary smiled at him. “Some other time, then,” she said and went on her way.
Rhodes didn’t think there would be another time. Ivy wouldn’t approve. He went looking for Harold Harris’s office, and when he didn’t see it, he went back to Benton’s just in time to catch Seepy as he came out the door with a cardboard container in his hands.
“I’m looking for Dr. Harris,” Rhodes said.
“I was hoping you’d had second thoughts about the baked tofu. You’re sure you don’t want some?”
Rhodes thought about the vegetarian meat loaf that Ivy made. “I’m sure. What about Dr. Harris?”
“His office is on the first floor. Number one-sixteen. He usually eats at home, though.”
“I’ll have a look,” Rhodes said, and he left Benton to his baked tofu.
* * *
Harris’s office was closed and locked. Rhodes went outside to his car and checked in with Hack.
“How long you been back in town?” Hack asked. “We might’ve needed you.”
“I have the cell phone,” Rhodes said. “I didn’t get any calls while I was in Derrick City, and you didn’t try the radio when I was driving back, so you must not have needed me.”
“Might’ve thought it wouldn’t do any good to call you.”
“Never mind that. Is anything going on that I need to know about?”
“Just depends on what you need to know about.”
“I’ll leave it up to you,” Rhodes said.
“Then you might wanta drop by the recycling place. Duke’s there now, and you know how those people are.”
“Tell him I’m on the way,” Rhodes said.
* * *
The recycling center was only a couple of blocks in back of the Beauty Shack, but it looked as if it existed in a different world, a world like something in a postapocalyptic movie, with piles of scrap metal behind a rusting metal fence, and on the outside containers full of scrap and a number of huge empty metal tanks.
A new sign stood beside the opening into the center. It read, UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT. WE PAY CASH FOR YOUR SCRAP METAL. That was interesting. Rhodes hadn’t known that the previous owners were selling out. Duke might have known, however, and that would explain why he was visiting. The new owners might not be as worried about the sheriff’s deparment as the previous ones had been after Rhodes had gotten finished with them.
