Bill Crider - Dan Rhodes 20 - Compound Murder

by Bill Crider

  “My parents were fans,” Able said. “I grew up with the music.” He shrugged. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  “Lots of things do,” Rhodes said, having had some experience along those lines. “Tell me about Duffy. What happened here?”

  “I’m not sure,” Able said. “I guess it’s your fault. He came in here this afternoon, nice as pie, and asked me if I’d do him a favor. I said, sure, what was the favor? He said something like ‘Look over there,’ and I looked. He hit me in the back of my head and tied me up. That’s all I know about it.”

  Rhodes thought about that for a minute or so. “Let’s get back to Duffy’s money. Tell me about it.”

  “I told you already. He supposedly had an inheritance. That’s what he said. His uncle or somebody had died and set up a little trust fund. Now and then he’d go to the post office and pick up a check.”

  “So he wasn’t like you. He left the compound now and then.”

  “People aren’t prisoners here. I never leave. This is my little patch of ground, and I’m sticking to it. Anyone else can leave as he pleases. Ike does. You know that.”

  “I got the impression that he didn’t leave for a lot of years.”

  “That’s because he didn’t have any transportation. When he could drive without getting arrested, he could leave, and he did. Not often, until lately, but he left.”

  “Didn’t it strike you as funny that Duffy went out at night so much?”

  Able shook his head. “He didn’t go out that much. Once or twice a week. Alf would go with him some. They said they felt cramped in here.”

  Rhodes would have felt cramped, too. “Didn’t they share your ideas?”

  “They don’t like the government any more than I do, if that’s what you mean. They liked having a safe place to live when the time comes and things fall apart.”

  Rhodes didn’t want to get into that discussion. He said, “Duffy didn’t have any trust fund. He was stealing copper from air conditioners and abandoned houses. Probably stealing tailgates, too, and selling them. That’s where he got his income. You’ll need to find another source of money.”

  “The Lord will provide,” Able said, but he didn’t sound convincing. “I want to thank you, by the way, for what you did for Ike. He was really happy you got him out on that personal bond. It was the right thing to do.”

  Rhodes didn’t want to talk about that. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  “It’s just as well he wasn’t in on this,” Able said.

  “For sure,” Rhodes said.

  He was convinced that Able didn’t know about Duffy’s illegal activities or what had happened to Wellington. Duffy might have a different story to tell, but Rhodes would deal with that when the time came. For now it was enough that Duffy was in jail.

  “I don’t know what came over Duffy,” Able said. He ran his hand over the gray streak in his hair. “He could’ve asked me to help him instead of tying me up and dumping me in a closet.”

  “If he’d asked for help, what would you have done?”

  Able looked at the floor. “I’m not sure.”

  “I hope you’d have given me a call. Duffy must have thought you would.”

  “Maybe I would have. I don’t know. It’s still hard to believe this has happened. I thought we were safe here.”

  “You can’t fence out the world,” Rhodes said.

  “I have for a long time.”

  “Yeah,” Rhodes said. “I guess you have.”

  * * *

  Rhodes had one more thing to do before he went to the jail to check on the prisoners. He drove out to Wade Campbell’s house. The county road was still damp from the rain, but it would be entirely dry before long. Rhodes thought it hadn’t rained enough to do much more than green up the grass for a few days, but that was better than no rain at all. Not much better, but at least it was something.

  He parked in the driveway behind the same maroon Camry he’d parked behind the first time. He went to the door, rang the bell, and heard the Aggie War Hymn. Sandi Campbell came to the door. Ike was with her. Rhodes had thought he’d be there.

  “Come in, Sheriff,” Sandi said. “We’ve been wondering how things went.”

  “Ike told you about that?” Rhodes asked.

  Sandi nodded. “He said you were going to arrest somebody at the compound. He said it wouldn’t be easy.”

  “He was right about it,” Rhodes said.

  Sandi stepped aside from the doorway. “Come on in. We can sit down while you tell us.”

  They went into the spick-and-span den. Rhodes let Sandi and Ike sit down. Rhodes loomed.

  “Is my father okay?” Ike asked.

  “He’s fine,” Rhodes said. “Duffy and the other two men are in jail.”

  “I’m kind of surprised you got them. I didn’t think you could get inside the compound.”

  “I know,” Rhodes said. “Especially if somebody warned them that I was coming and told them why.”

  “What do you mean?” Sandi asked.

  “Exactly what I said. Somebody called Duffy and told him what was up.” Rhodes turned to Ike. “Why’d you do it?”

  “I didn’t,” Ike said. “Not me.”

  “All we have to do is check your cell phone records,” Rhodes said. “It’s easy. Duffy knew we were coming. He was all set for us. Only one person could’ve told him, and that was you.”

  Sandi looked at Ike. Ike avoided her eyes and didn’t say anything.

  “I made a mistake about you,” Rhodes told Ike. “I believed you, and I was wrong. Here’s what I think happened. I think you and Duffy went to the college to confront Wellington about your paper. I don’t know if you plagiarized it or not, but it doesn’t matter. You were still angry about it, and Duffy didn’t mind doing a little strong-arming for you. What happened to Wellington was probably an accident. A little intimidation and then a scuffle that got out of hand. If Wellington had hit his head anywhere else on the trash bin, he might not have died, but that corner was sharp and punched in his skull a little too far. Bad luck for him. Bad luck for everybody.”

  Sandi looked horrified at what Rhodes had said. Ike still wasn’t talking.

  “Or maybe you did it yourself,” Rhodes said. “I think you were on some of those copper-stealing trips with Duffy, too. If you were, he’ll tell me. He’ll tell me if he was with you that morning at the Beauty Shack. You can be double sure he’ll tell us if he didn’t scuffle with Wellington.”

  Rhodes stopped talking and waited. After a few uncomfortable seconds, Ike looked up at him.

  “It was Duffy,” Ike said. “I was afraid to tell you. I didn’t mean for it to happen, not any of it.”

  “So you warned him we were coming because you were afraid he’d tell us your part in everything.”

  “Yeah. I didn’t think you could get to him in the compound, not if he was ready for you. I thought everything would be all right. I thought the compound was built to keep out an army.”

  “You were wrong,” Rhodes said.

  * * *

  After Rhodes booked Ike on the new charges and Lawton got him in a cell he questioned Duffy. When he returned, Hack asked if he’d seen Jennifer Loam’s web site that evening.

  “No,” Rhodes said. “I’m not sure I want to.”

  “She just got it updated,” Hack said. “Me and Lawton took a look.” He tapped his computer. “You wanna see?”

  Rhodes was feeling a little low. He’d misjudged Ike Terrell and believed him about too many things. At least Duffy had admitted that he’d killed Wellington when Rhodes questioned him. So lke was off the hook for the murder. It didn’t matter a bit to Wellington, however.

  “I have to call Able Terrell,” Rhodes said, “and give him the bad news.”

  “You oughta look at this story first,” Lawton said. “It’s real good.”

  Rhodes knew that the quickest way to quiet Hack and Lawton down was to humor them, so he stepped over to Hack’s desk to
see what Jennifer Loam had to say about the day’s events.

  “Look at that,” Hack said. “‘One-man army storms compound.’”

  “Yeah,” Lawton said. “‘Heroic local sheriff puts Sage Barton to shame.’”

  Hack tapped the screen. “It’s got a video of the heroic local sheriff ’bout to blow some guy away with a shotgun. Wanna watch?”

  Rhodes had seen enough. “I have to make that call now.”

  “Able’s gonna be mighty disappointed about that boy,” Hack said.

  “So am I,” Rhodes said.

  * * *

  It wasn’t until he got home that evening that Rhodes thought about having missed lunch again. He mentioned it to Ivy as she was getting ready to make dinner.

  “I’ll fix you an extra burger,” Ivy said.

  “Burger? A real one? With meat?”

  They were in the kitchen. The two cats were asleep, and Yancey was looking in from the doorway. He looked a little more cheerful than he had that morning, Rhodes thought. Rhodes wasn’t too cheerful himself, not with all that had happened that day, but the idea of a real hamburger made him feel a little better.

  “I thought a hamburger might be all right just this once,” Ivy said. “I got some fresh ground sirloin on the way home.”

  “Did you get any cheese?” Rhodes asked.

  “As a matter of fact, I got some sliced cheddar. Will that be all right?”

  “More than all right,” Rhodes said. Thinking about it made his mouth water.

  The phone rang, and Rhodes got up to answer it. It was Clifford Clement, who started off with a simple question, “Well?”

  “That’s a deep subject,” Rhodes said.

  “Don’t get flip with me, Sheriff. You know what I’m asking about.”

  “We have someone in custody for Wellington’s death,” Rhodes said. “We’ve even solved the copper thefts, or some of them. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m about to have dinner. You can take a look at Jennifer Loam’s Web site. She has the whole story.”

  “I’ll do that,” Clement said, and he hung up.

  Thinking about Clement reading what Jennifer had written made Rhodes smile, mainly because it wouldn’t make Clement smile. Rhodes might be able to develop an appreciation for the Web site after all.

  “You’re smiling,” Ivy said. She was kneading the ground meat into patties. “Are you thinking about that extra burger?”

  “That’s part of it,” Rhodes said.

  “I just want you to know that I’m proud to be married to the heroic local sheriff,” Ivy said.

  “You heard about that?”

  “I know how to use a computer,” Ivy said, “but I knew all along you were heroic. That’s the real reason you’re getting the extra burger.”

  Yancey came into the room and yipped. Hearing him lightened Rhodes’s mood even further. Yancey walked over to the cats and growled. The cats ignored him, and Yancey pranced away. He sat down by Rhodes’s chair.

  “I’m glad to see he’s recovered,” Rhodes said.

  “I read him that article on Jennifer’s Web site. I think that helped. He was inspired.”

  Rhodes gave Yancey’s head a light rub. Yancey lay down and rolled over to let Rhodes rub his tummy, too.

  “I might be a heroic local sheriff today,” Rhodes said, “but tomorrow I’ll be chasing wild hogs out of somebody’s house again.”

  Ivy dropped the ground sirloin into the hot pan. The meat hissed and popped. Yancey jumped up and ran out of the room.

  “Still a little skittish,” Rhodes said.

  “Unlike you,” Ivy said. “Always ready for anything.”

  Rhodes thought that over. He smiled. “It’s not a bad job. There’s always something going on. I think I’ll keep going to work for a while.”

  “Good,” Ivy said. “Now get out the hamburger buns.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Rhodes said, and he did.

  ALSO BY BILL CRIDER

  SHERIFF DAN RHODES MYSTERIES

  Murder of a Beauty Shop Queen

  The Wild Hog Murders

  Murder in the Air

  Murder in Four Parts

  Of All Sad Words

  Murder Among the O.W.L.S.

  A Mammoth Murder

  Red, White, and Blue Murder

  A Romantic Way to Die

  A Ghost of a Chance

  Death by Accident

  Winning Can Be Murder

  Murder Most Fowl

  Booked for a Hanging

  Evil at the Root

  Death on the Move

  Cursed to Death

  Shotgun Saturday Night

  Too Late to Die

  PROFESSOR SALLY GOOD MYSTERIES

  A Bond with Death

  Murder Is an Art

  A Knife in the Back

  PROFESSOR CARL BURNS MYSTERIES

  … A Dangerous Thing

  Dying Voices

  One Dead Dean

  Dead Soldiers

  About the Author

  Bill Crider is the winner of two Anthony Awards and an Edgar Award Finalist. A college English professor for many years, he’s published more than seventy-five crime, Western, and horror novels, as well as a number of children’s books. He lives with his wife in Alvin, Texas.

  Visit his Web site at www.billcrider.com.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  A THOMAS DUNNE BOOK FOR MINOTAUR BOOKS.

  An imprint of St. Martin’s Publishing Group.

  COMPOUND MURDER. Copyright © 2013 by Bill Crider. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

  www.thomasdunnebooks.com

  www.minotaurbooks.com

  Cover design by David Baldeosingh Rotstein

  The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:

  Crider, Bill, 1941–

  Compound Murder: a Dan Rhodes mystery / Bill Crider.—First Edition.

  p. cm

  (Sheriff Dan Rhodes mysteries; 18)

  ISBN 978-0-312-64165-8 (hardcover)

  ISBN 978-1-250-02046-8 (e-book)

  1. Rhodes, Dan (Fictitious character)—Fiction. 2. Sheriffs—Fiction. 3. Texas—Fiction. I. Title.

  PS3553.R497S45 2013

  813’.54—dc23

  2013018425

  e-ISBN 9781250020468

  First Edition: August 2013