An Unsettling Crime for Samuel Craddock

by Terry Shames

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Call in the parents of any kid that gets caught and tell them to contact me. I’ve got to find out who’s selling the drugs.”

  Gilpin is the picture of unhappiness, but he nods.

  “Let me know when you’ve had the meeting.” I start to walk out, but I come back to his desk. “One last question. Where have the kids been doing this? On school property?”

  “Out back of the gym.”

  “So right out in the open?” I can’t believe it. The gym is on the street.

  “Kids these days have no respect.”

  If they get away with everything short of murder, it’s no wonder they don’t.

  Chapter 15

  I don’t feel like talking to anybody at the moment. I need to think some things over. Usually when I want to be alone, I head up to Lakeside Park and stare at the water, but this time I go home and check up on my cows.

  I stand at the fence, and a few of the cows amble over to see what I’m up to. One stands in the middle of the pasture, bellowing. I hope there’s nothing wrong with her. She looks fine, just seems to be letting off steam. Kind of what I’d like to be doing.

  Between Bonnie Bedichek and Gilpin, I’m feeling raw. This is the first time I’ve been pushed to tackle a real crime. I’ve hauled in a few drunks and kept them in jail overnight. There’ve been some minor thefts and a couple of cases of vandalism. But how much trouble can a town of three thousand people get into? That’s what I told Jeanne when she protested my taking on the job.

  Now with Gilpin pushing for me to investigate, and Bonnie demanding that I act like a real chief of police, I wonder if I’ve got the gumption to stand up to Jeanne and let her know I’m fully committed to being chief. When I married her, her daddy gave me a stern lecture, admonishing me not to let my pride get in the way of accepting money so Jeanne could live the way she was used to under her folks’ roof. He said, “I’ve spoiled her, and it’s not her fault if she wants the finer things.”

  In our four years in the US Air Force, I was happy to find that Jeanne didn’t seem to mind living in shabby housing on the base. She swore she was happy with me, and I was sure as hell happy with her. It took some time for me to realize that the way she was spoiled was subtle: She’s used to getting her way.

  I’m not sure why she didn’t want me to be chief of police. She isn’t a snob, but I wonder if she thought the job was beneath a man she married. As I stand looking at the cows, I admit to myself that I’ve let her become the boss. Being brought up with a mother like mine, I prefer not to make a fuss.

  I took on the job to make a statement that I am a man and I can make my own way, and I haven’t lived up to that ideal. I have ignored the drug problem because I felt guilty taking on a job Jeanne didn’t want me to do. I’ve embarrassed myself, and it’s time to remedy that.

  Bonnie had some good suggestions this afternoon, and first thing tomorrow morning, I’m going to implement them. It’s only four thirty, and there’s one thing I can do tonight.

  In the house I find the note I got from the Montclairs farming the Cato land. I dial the number and get an answering machine. “You have reached the offices of Ronald Cato. Please leave a message and Mr. Cato will return your call at his earliest convenience.”

  “This is Samuel Craddock. I’m chief of police in Jarrett Creek. I’m sure Mr. Cato is aware there was a criminal act on his property a couple of days ago. I’d like him to call me back on that matter, if he doesn’t mind. I have a couple of questions to ask him.”

  As soon as I hang up, I’m annoyed with myself. Asking him to call “if he doesn’t mind” sounds like a wimp.

  I stare at the phone wondering if it’s a good time to call Jeanne, when the phone rings.

  “This is Ronald Cato. I’m calling for Chief Craddock.” He sounds like an old man. The property out there has been called Cato Woods for as long as I’ve been alive. I wonder if he’s the original owner.

  “This is Craddock. Thank you for returning my call. You heard about that bad business out on your acreage?”

  “Damn squatters. Not that I wanted anything like that to happen, mind you, but they shouldn’t have been there.”

  “So you didn’t know they were there?”

  A long pause. “How old are you? You sound mighty young to be holding down the job of police chief.”

  “I’m old enough.” I’ve had it with that line of inquiry. “Let me repeat the question: Did you know there was somebody living there?”

  “Well. You’re a feisty one. I have to admit, I did know there was somebody squatting out there.”

  “Do you have a name?”

  “I sure don’t. I wish I could help you, but I turned a blind eye to the squatters, thinking they weren’t going to cause me any trouble. Now look what I’ve got to put up with.”

  “When are you going to be in town next? I understand you come down once a month.”

  “Who, me?” His laugh is harsh. “I’m in a wheelchair. I’m not the one who comes. That would be my son, George. Named after my daddy. He takes care of most of the business these days.”

  “I understand he’s trying to get the tenants on the farm to leave.”

  This time his voice has a steel edge. “Like I said, my son is handling the business. He’s got a good business sense, so if he wants them to clear out, he must have good reasons.”

  “You happen to know when he’ll be here next?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t.”

  I wonder, is there a problem between him and his son, or is he protective of George? “You have a number where I can reach him?”

  He’s quiet for a moment. “I’ll tell you what. How about if I have him call you? This number okay?”

  I give him the number at headquarters in addition to my home number. He hangs up before I can ask when I might expect a call.

  I get a beer out of the refrigerator and check to make sure there is a frozen beef pot pie in the freezer for later. Jeanne can’t stand them, so the only time I get to eat one is if Jeanne is out playing bridge or at a church meeting.

  I’m of two minds about spending an evening without Jeanne. I miss her, but there’s a certain freedom to it. I can leave manners out of the equation and put my bare feet up on the coffee table if I want to, and I might even have a second beer.

  Beer in hand, I stroll onto the front porch and sit down to mull over how to implement Bonnie Bedichek’s idea of a reward for information about the fire.

  Chapter 16

  I wake up feeling uneasy, as if I’ve had a bad night’s sleep. I remember waking in the night and thinking I heard a fire siren, but it was far away, and since no one called me, I must have been dreaming. But when I step outside to go down to the pasture, I smell a hint of smoke in the air. It could be from the Cato Woods fire, but I haven’t noticed it before. While I’m feeding the cows, I think about Tom coming this weekend. I haven’t told Jeanne. She’s going to be happy.

  I don’t expect George Cato to call me back, so if I’m going to talk to him, I have to catch him. When I get to headquarters, I call Judy and Owen Montclair to ask when they expect him to show up for the rent money. There’s no answer. I’ll have to call this evening. I doubt I’ll get much out of George Cato anyway, and that discourages me. There’s a good reason the highway patrol and the Texas Rangers investigate crimes. They have the manpower, the training, and the experience.

  Still, I could put together a flyer advertising the reward. Is five hundred dollars enough? That’s all the money I’m going to get from the state, and the town coffers are always on the brink of empty. I could toss in some money, but I’m not part of some private law-enforcement agency. I’m still mulling it over when I hear the crunch of gravel outside and the sounds of an engine. It’s Truly Bennett’s old pickup parking. One of the men I wanted to see today.

  But when the door opens, it’s Truly’s daddy, Ezekiel, looming in the doorway. His hat is in his hand and his eyes are w
ide open and wild-looking. “Mr. Craddock, you’ve got to help Truly.”

  “Come on in here.”

  He shuffles in, looking lost and bewildered.

  “Let me get you a cup of coffee.”

  “No, sir, that’s okay. There’s no time for that. They have my boy and I don’t know what they’re going to do with him.”

  “Who has him?”

  He blinks. “You don’t know?”

  “Know what?”

  “They arrested him early this morning. The highway patrol sent four men out to the house.”

  “Arrested him for what?”

  “They say he’s the one that killed those people out there. He wouldn’t do that. He’s not like that. He didn’t know those people, and he had no reason to kill them.”

  My heart thumps so hard I could pass out. What the hell does Sutherland think he’s doing? “There’s got to be some misunderstanding. I’ll make a call. Did they say where they were taking him?”

  “No, sir. They wouldn’t tell me nothing.”

  “Did you get their names?”

  “No, sir.” His breath is coming hard. He has good reason to be terrified. Young black men don’t fare well in custody, especially if they are suspected of a capital crime.

  “Calm down. It won’t do Truly any good if you have a heart attack.” My heart is pounding, too. It’s not like Truly Bennett and I are friends, but I’ve known him my whole life. Everybody knows him, and everyone knows he wouldn’t hurt anybody, let alone kill them. “I want you to sit down.” I point at the straight-backed, metal chair next to my desk. He shakes his head and stands there, miserable, terrified for his son.

  The first person I call is John Sutherland. I’m told he’s out of the office.

  “I need to reach him right away. Can you patch me through to his patrol-car radio?”

  “Hold on a minute.”

  It’s longer than a minute, but it gives me a chance to consider my approach to Sutherland. I want to do the best I can for Truly. Eventually a woman comes on and says she’s the dispatcher and she can patch me through to him.

  “Sutherland? This is Samuel Craddock over in Jarrett Creek.”

  The line is crackling. “What do you want?”

  “There’s seems to be a misunderstanding. Somebody who said they were Texas Highway Patrol came out and arrested one of our residents. I figured that can’t be, because protocol says I should be notified if one of our residents is picked up.”

  “That’s a damn shame,” Sutherland says. “I guess somebody forgot to call you. Anyway, it’s all taken care of.”

  “What’s taken care of? Where is he?”

  But the line is dead. Fury rises up in me. I dial the number again. My inclination is to spit fire at the man who answers, but I figure I’ll get farther if I keep my temper. “I was talking to John Sutherland and we had a bad line. He was going to tell me where he was taking a man he arrested. Wonder if you can help me out with that.”

  “What’s the prisoner’s name?”

  “Truly Bennett.”

  “Just a minute.” He doesn’t put me on hold, and I hear him ask somebody for a list. A minute later he says, “I don’t have anybody by that name. He must not have been processed yet.”

  “Where do they usually take prisoners?”

  “Pretty much always to the closest county jail, and then, depending on the crime, they may be taken to a more secure facility.”

  I thank him for his information and hang up. My ears are ringing. I’ve known of cases where black men were taken away and never seen again. In my mind’s eye I can imagine Truly in the back of a squad car, taken out to a wood somewhere and beaten. Even killed.

  Ezekiel Bennett stands over my desk. I hope he doesn’t see my hands shaking. “Did you locate him? Can we get to him?”

  “Hold on. I’m not sure. I have to think for a minute.” I get up and pour two cups of coffee and bring Bennett one. My mind is working furiously. I need to get this right. It occurs to me that the former chief could tell me what is likely happening. And then something else occurs to me. It wouldn’t hurt to have Bonnie Bedichek on my side. I phone her and it’s obvious I’ve woken her up.

  “I only got to bed at four,” she grumbles.

  “I’m sorry, but I need you here.”

  “What for?”

  “I don’t have time to tell you, but I’ve got the makings of a hell of a story. Don’t stop for coffee. I’ve got a pot made.”

  She coughs. “Is it really urgent? Never mind, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  “Make it ten.”

  I call former chief Eldridge. He listens to what I have to say. “I don’t know what you’re so fired up about,” he says. “If they arrested somebody, they must have a pretty good reason.” He talks so slow that in my current state of agitation, I want to tell him to hurry it up.

  “Eldridge, I know Truly Bennett, and I don’t believe he would do something like this.”

  He chuckles long and low. “You think you know him, but you can’t really know what a colored boy is thinking. I understand there was some young girls out there. He probably got a notion to bed one of them and she wouldn’t have anything to do with him, and the rest followed.”

  He isn’t saying anything that half the people in town aren’t thinking, so there’s no use arguing with him. “Do you know where they’re likely to take him?”

  “Over to Bobtail, or maybe San Antonio. But I’d try Bobtail first.”

  Sheriff Newberry is a good man, but normally the whereabouts of a man arrested by the highway patrol would not be of much interest to him. However, this is a high-profile case. I don’t know whether he’ll take me seriously when I tell him they’ve arrested the wrong man.

  “What can I do for you?” Newberry sounds distracted, which isn’t good.

  I tell him that the THP arrested someone without notifying me and that I don’t buy the claim that Bennett is guilty.

  He doesn’t say anything for a minute. “I know you’re worried there will be a repeat of what happened up in Georgetown a couple of months ago, but I run a better jail than that. I hate to say it, but I didn’t have much regard for Sutherland when we met the other day. Still, it’s his call. All I can do right now is make sure your man is treated fairly when he’s here.”

  “I trust you. I’m worried that they’ll take him somewhere else.”

  “Let me call and find out if they’re bringing him here. I’ll get right back to you.”

  “I don’t want you to think I’m horning in on your territory, but I’d like to come over and talk to Truly if they bring him there.”

  “That may take some doing. It’s Sutherland’s call. But I tell you what. Come on over here and we’ll see what we can do.”

  When I hang up, I tell Ezekiel what’s going on. “It’s the best I can hope for. Newberry is a fair man, and I’ll get as close to Truly as I can.”

  The door bangs open and Bonnie charges in.

  “Don’t you ever just walk into a room?” I ask.

  “Not when I’ve been told my presence is needed urgently,” she says. Her eyes are puffy and her hair could have used another lick with the comb.

  “Now you’re here, let’s get going. I’ll explain on my way.”

  “Wait a minute. You promised me a cup of coffee.”

  I pour the last of the coffee into a cup and hand it to her. “Drink it on the way,” I say.

  I introduce her to Ezekiel Bennett. “Mr. Bennett, I think maybe it’s best if you don’t come with us.”

  “I understand. But I’m going to follow you over to the jail. I’ll feel better if I’m near my boy.”

  Chapter 17

  In the car I tell Bonnie what I know so far. “Oh, my Lord. I wonder what they have on him?”

  I’ve been wondering the same thing. There hasn’t been enough time for an in-depth investigation, so Sutherland must have some strong evidence to stick his neck out far enough to arrest Truly.


  I glance off to the east and notice a haze on the horizon. “Looks like there was a fire somewhere,” I say. “I smelled it in the air this morning.”

  “That’s where I was until early this morning,” Bonnie says. “The Bobtail Fire Department handled it. I guess they didn’t see any need to call Jarrett Creek volunteers.”

  “Where was it?”

  “Cato Farm. Up on the hill.”

  “What? You mean the place the Montclairs are farming?”

  “You know them?”

  “I just met them. Was anybody hurt?”

  “No, they lost part of their cotton crop. They were pretty shook up. It’s a financial blow.”

  I’m reminded that George Cato is trying to run them off the farm. Suddenly my desire to meet him ramps up a notch. “Any idea how it started?”

  “Not that I heard. Why?”

  “No reason. Seems strange, two fires on the Cato property within a few days.”

  “Hmm. Now that you mention it, it is strange. I guess I wasn’t thinking about the fact that that’s all part of the same property.” She’s got her journalist look on her face. Her eyes are sharp and she seems more awake than she was five minutes ago. “Do you think there’s a connection?”

  “I don’t know. I’m just wondering; that’s all. Right now my mind is on what we can do for Truly.”

  By the time we’ve driven the fifteen miles to the courthouse, I’m no better off than I was before we left headquarters. This is new territory for me and I don’t have any idea what to expect when we arrive. “Have you ever covered a murder arrest?” I ask.

  “I was here a couple of years ago when they brought in that guy from up in East Texas who was hiding out here. You may not remember it. He killed a couple of hitchhikers up around Nacogdoches.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t remember hearing about it.”

  “Oh, wait a minute. It was four years ago. You weren’t back here then.”

  I drive slowly past the front of the courthouse. Somehow I had it in my head that there would be crowds gathered, patrol cars and TV vans parked all over the place, reporters at the ready. As far as I can see, there’s nothing going on. My heart sinks. Maybe they’ve taken Truly somewhere else. I glance back and see Ezekiel’s old truck behind me, and I wonder what he’s thinking.