by Terry Shames
“If the bullets that killed those people came from the same gun as the bullets that gunned down Clyde Wortham, Truly Bennett couldn’t possibly have done it. Sutherland knows that, too. Of course, they might not match. But it’s up to Sutherland to check the ballistics.”
“I suppose I could call Sutherland and nudge him.” He doesn’t sound enthusiastic. “You said there were two things bothering you. What else?”
“Were there fingerprints taken from the dishes at the location of the murders? There were seven plates and five victims. Is it possible that undercover man in the photo might have been one of them?”
Wills sighs. “I was wondering the same thing. I’ll call Sutherland and get back to you, but I seriously doubt anything was done with either.”
“Why not? How can he justify letting evidence slip away?”
“Could be several reasons, but as I warned you, we may not be able to press him at this particular time. And I’m not sure anything will come of either for your friend Bennett.”
“Maybe not, but I don’t like loose ends.”
After we hang up, I think over one of the biggest challenges I have to deal with: what to do about my brother. Now that I know he has been involved in drug dealing, I have to decide whether to track him down and arrest him, or let him escape to Houston, where he’ll be someone else’s problem. From what Jeanne told me on the phone, the town hired me to make the problem of my brother disappear, not necessarily to arrest him. I’m not yet clear on how I stand on the issue.
I hear a car outside, and Ezekiel Bennett comes in, hat in hand, looking grave. I freeze, wondering if something has happened to Truly in the night. “Mr. Bennett, I thought you’d be in San Antonio.”
“I need to talk to you.”
“Let me get you some coffee.”
When we sit down, he says, “Chief Craddock, I was awake half the night, thinking. I want you to stop worrying about Truly and go back to your everyday business.”
“You mean catching boys speeding on the dam road? Finding lost dogs? Straightening out bar fights?”
“Yes, sir.”
I’m startled by his request. Does he think Truly is guilty? “Why would you want me to do that?”
“I appreciate what you’ve been trying to do for Truly. I do. But, Chief Craddock, people in this town aren’t going to put up with you going on a crusade for a black man. I have lived with prejudice my whole life because of the color of my skin. I don’t like it, but I’m used to it. And here you are, choosing to bear a burden you wasn’t born to bear. I don’t want that, and I believe my son wouldn’t either. So let it alone, and we’ll hope the Lord will see fit to work his wonders.”
He sits back like a man satisfied with what is probably the longest speech he ever made to a white man.
Bonnie was right. I have to decide what kind of man I am. I don’t have any idea whether Truly Bennett is worth getting myself in trouble for—maybe even killed. But I know that someone connected with the drug trade in Houston committed those murders. John Sutherland knows it, too, and yet he isn’t willing to let Truly go. It would hurt his pride and maybe smear his arrest record. If I don’t work to free Truly, I’m no better than Sutherland.
And I also know that as generous as Wills is with his time and his information, he hasn’t been willing to stick his neck out by pushing Sutherland to drop the charges. I’m not going to say any of this to Bennett. I’m not a hero. I’m not taking on the whole issue of black versus white. I’m just working to free one man I know is innocent.
“I appreciate your coming by. I’ll give it some thought.”
He sighs and gets to his feet. “I figured you’d say something like that. I’ve taken your measure, and I know what kind of man you are. You won’t let go.”
I stand. “I’m the chief of police. And that means chief of the whole town, not only the white part.”
He shakes his head and starts toward the door.
“I told you I was going to visit Truly today,” I say, “but I don’t think I’m going to get to it. My time will be better spent working to free him. Tell him I sent my regards.”
I get another cup of coffee and sit down with the list I made yesterday of all the people involved in the case. It’s as if now that I’m fully committed to seeing Truly Bennett released—whatever it takes—I finally see a pattern that leads to one man. My brother wouldn’t have had the initiative to approach drug dealers about selling drugs to high school kids in Jarrett Creek by himself. Somebody had to approach him. Clyde Wortham brought his family from Houston to Jarrett Creek because he knew somebody from here. He was a drug dealer, and the person he knew was surely someone involved with drugs, too. Both point to the same man: Beaumont Penny. I doubt he killed the people in that house, but he brought drugs and violence to this town. He’s the key. It’s time I tracked him down. I fish out the phone number that Alvin Penny gave me, but when I dial it, I find that it has been disconnected. I sit and think how I’m going to find him, and my first stop has to be his folks’. If they don’t know where he is, I expect they can find out.
Before I leave, the phone rings. It’s Curren Wills. “I’ve been thinking, and I’m going to lend you my deputy, Luke Schoppe. The two of you are young enough to have fire in your belly, and maybe between you, you have enough sense not to get killed.”
“How soon can he get here?”
“He can be there in an hour. We’re over in Bryan. It’ll take him a few minutes to get on the road.”
“I’ve got something to do. I’ll meet him back here in an hour.”
I’m pleased that Schoppe will be with me. He doesn’t say much, but he struck me as having some sense and as being alert. And, besides, I like him. He didn’t try to pretend that he wasn’t shocked that first day I met him, when we viewed the bodies of those poor kids killed in cold blood.
I’m glad when Alvin Penny answers the door to his house. I didn’t want to resort to dragging the information I need out of Zerlene.
“I was afraid I’d see you again.”
“I need to know where I can find your son Beaumont. The number you gave me isn’t working.”
He clamps his lips together and nods for me to follow him inside. He closes the door behind me and asks, “You think he killed those people?”
“I don’t have any evidence pointing to him, but I think he knows who did.”
“If he tells you, it’s likely to get him killed.”
He’s right. “But If he doesn’t, an innocent boy is going to sit in jail for a long time.”
“Truly is a good boy. Known him my whole life.” He looks off into a corner of his tidy front room. “Wonder what causes one man to take the low road and another to turn out all right?”
His question hits close to home, with my brother in the same league with his son. “I wish I knew. But I don’t. Now I have to ask you for Beaumont’s whereabouts.”
“You’d go all the way to Houston to track him down?”
“I’m prepared to do that, yes.”
“So you’re not afraid to get yourself killed?”
“I’m going to do everything I can to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
He runs his hand along his jaw. “Young man like you. Willing to do what you can to get that boy out of jail. Different generation.”
I hold still, letting him come to his conclusion.
“Truth is, you don’t have to go all the way to Houston. Beaumont is around here.”
“Where?”
“He’s keeping with a lady over in Bobtail.”
“You know where? And why he’s staying here?”
“No, on both counts. But I can tell you that the lady goes by the name of Betty. And she’s a white woman.”
I head back to the station to wait for Schoppe. I’m grateful that I don’t have to root around in Houston to locate Penny. I have only the name Betty to go on, but Bobtail is a lot smaller than Houston. I should be able to track Penny down.
When S
choppe arrives, I tell him what led me to conclude that Penny is the man with answers—his drug connections in Houston and my suspicion that he brought the Wortham family here. I leave out that I think he’s supplying my brother with drugs to sell. “I appreciate that you’re willing to throw in with me.”
“I can tell my boss likes you, or he wouldn’t send me over here. Said he thought I might learn something.”
“Uh oh, I was thinking the same thing. Sounds like we’re quite a pair.”
We grin at each other. Part of me knows we could get ourselves killed, but if I don’t take that risk, I won’t be able to face myself.
Chapter 38
Schoppe and I head for the Bobtail Police Department. If there’s a white woman living with a black man, it’s likely the police are aware of it. Bobtail is bigger than Jarrett Creek, but it’s still small enough for word of a mixed-race situation to get around pretty fast. Not to mention that with Penny being in the drug-peddling business, his girlfriend is probably hooked on something, which the police might know about, too.
“You mean Betty Whitehorse?” The duty cop nods. “Sure I know her. She says she’s an Indian, but she’s only one by marriage and divorce. She just claims to be an Indian so she can get extra money from the government.”
The cop is leaning on his forearms and enjoying this gossip session. In the few months of training I had, one of our instructors told us that police departments have gossip lines that put old ladies to shame.
“Do you know if she has a black boyfriend?”
“Boyfriend? That’s a good one.” He looks closer at me. “Aren’t you the man who brought in that beat-up prostitute the other night?”
“That was me. Why?”
“You better look out. People are going to think you’re a regular over in that part of town.” He guffaws. Seeing that I don’t join in the merriment, he says, “As to your question, I haven’t heard anything like that, but anything is possible. If he has money in his pocket, she’ll be after it along with his pecker.”
He finally gets around to looking up her last known address and gives us directions. As soon as we get close to her house, I recognize the neighborhood for what it is. Bobtail is generally free of slum areas, but this qualifies, with little houses slumped close together like they’re trying to hold each other up.
The once-green exterior of Betty Whitehorse’s house has peeled off to gray wood. Luckily the front porch and steps are concrete, so they haven’t disintegrated like the rest of the house.
It’s ten o’clock, and Betty opens the door in a short robe, rubbing sleep from her eyes. She’s a big-boned woman with plenty of padding. Her long, black hair is in wild disarray, and her dark eyes are bloodshot. “What do you want? I’m off work.” The sweet smell of marijuana wafts out into the open air.
I identify myself and Luke Schoppe. “We’re looking for a man by the name of Beaumont Penny. It’s a matter of some urgency, and I understand he’s staying here with you.”
She runs her tongue over her teeth, an unattractive sight. “I don’t know who told you that, but I don’t know anybody by that name. What kind of a name is Beaumont anyway?” The way she smirks, I’m pretty sure Penny is listening and she’s jerking his chain.
“If I asked your neighbors, would they have seen him?”
“If they said they did, you couldn’t trust them. Not one of them wouldn’t lie for the hell of it. Jealous.” She reaches up and blots at perspiration glistening between her big breasts.
“I’m not looking to get Mr. Penny in trouble. I just need some information.” Speaking of lying.
“Trouble or not, he still ain’t here.”
Schoppe says, “Tell you what, Craddock. I’ll stay here and watch the place, and you go back to the police station and arrange for a search warrant. And while you’re at it, maybe get a warrant to look for drugs, too. I think I smell a little whiff of something on the air.”
“Hold on, now,” Betty says. “There’s no need for all that.”
“Betty, let me talk to these men.” A man I take to be Penny steps up next to Betty. He’s as skinny as she is hefty, with his hair puffed up in an afro that makes his head look like a flower on top of a lean stalk. I have an uncomfortable picture of the two of them nestled up in bed together. Mr. and Mrs. Jack Sprat.
“You Beaumont Penny?” I ask.
“That’s me. I guess you’re Craddock, the man who has been bothering my daddy.”
“Did he say that?”
“He didn’t have to. I know what you small-town cops are like. You’ll do anything to pin something on a black man.”
“I think you’ll find I’m trying to do the opposite. Can we come inside?”
“I’d as soon you didn’t,” Betty says, settling her hands onto her hips.
“It’s Betty’s abode,” Penny says. “If she doesn’t want us inside, we’ll sit out on the porch.”
We sit on three rickety, wooden folding chairs.
“You know Truly Bennett?” I ask. “He’s from Jarrett Creek.”
He makes a show of looking out at the sky with a puzzled look on his face. “Don’t recollect anybody by that name,” he says.
“His daddy is Ezekiel Bennett, and his sister is Alva. They live down the street from your daddy in Jarrett Creek.” At the mention of Alva’s name, his eyes twitch.
“Now I know who you mean. He’s a nice young man. I understand he got himself into some trouble, though.”
“He didn’t get into it by himself. He’s been wrongly accused of a crime.”
“That’s no surprise. Like I said, it’s easy for a black man to find trouble.”
“Trouble you can get him out of.” It’s hot on the porch, and I’m sweating. The street is deserted except for a dog sprawled in the middle. I suspect many of the women and men who live here work nights.
“If I’m not mistaken, he’s in jail for killing those people in Jarrett Creek. I don’t know what you think I can do for him. I was in Houston at the time of the murders.”
“You know Horace Craddock?”
He’s startled by the quick change of subject. “The name sounds familiar.”
“I’ll bet it does.” I glance at Schoppe and see that he’s wondering the same thing Penny is, except that he doesn’t know Horace has been running drugs. “Because you’ve been supplying him with drugs to sell to the high school kids around here.”
“Whoa now, that’s a mighty high-flyin’ accusation. Where do you get an idea like that?” He sits up tall. His jovial manner has turned suddenly menacing. “If he told you that, he’s lying.”
“I’m not at liberty to tell you where I got the information.”
“An accusation of that kind could get a man killed, you know.” His smile could freeze blood.
“Is that a threat?” Schoppe asks. His voice has steel in it.
“Statin’ a fact, that’s all.”
“Let me state another fact for you.” I move my hand to my gun. Although I’ve always been a good shot, I don’t often carry the Colt, but I figured it might be a good idea until things settle down. “I can always see to it that you spend a little time in jail on suspicion of murder and selling drugs. Even if it doesn’t stick, I can make your life difficult.”
“You can’t do that. You don’t have a thing to go on, and I’ll make a claim against you for false arrest.”
“I’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. It ought to be interesting to find out what your Houston drug connection will do when he finds out you’re in jail.”
“They won’t do nothing because there’s no such animal.” He stands up. “Matter of fact, I need to call my lawyer before I say another word. I was trying to help you out, but this has gone too far.”
Schoppe and I stand up, too. Schoppe says, “You can make the call at the station. Right now, you need to come with us.” He nods to me. “You want to read him the words?”
“I guess I ought to.” I get my card out and read the Miranda word
s to him. He looks bored.
When I’m done, he says, “At least let me tell my lady where I’m going.”
“I’ll tell her myself when we get you safe inside the squad car,” Schoppe says.
We escort Penny down the steps between the two of us and secure him in the backseat of the squad car. Schoppe goes back up to tell Betty Whitehorse what’s going on, although I expect she has been listening.
I’m sweating fully now. I’m way out of my depth. I thought maybe the fear of arrest would shake something loose from Beaumont Penny, but he’s a lot slicker a character than I am. I know I can’t hold him long, but at least I can rattle the cage of his dealer.
Schoppe motions that he wants to speak to me out of range of Penny’s hearing. We walk down the street a ways. He grins at me. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Not a clue.”
We laugh.
“What next?” he asks. “He looks like a hard case to me. Not likely to volunteer much.”
“I agree. He’s a decoy. I said before that all I’m after is getting Bennett released. But that’s not completely true. There’s more. We’ve got a drug problem in Jarrett Creek. I believe whoever killed those people are connected to the drug trade as well. I hope that bringing Penny in will put them on notice that I’m not going to tolerate illegal drugs.”
“I thought you were steering clear of the Houston drug business. That’s a nest of hornets.”
“I don’t expect a bunch of big-time drug dealers from Houston to descend on Jarrett Creek and shoot up the place, but they’ve extended their territory this way, recruiting no-account people out to make a buck to sell drugs to school kids. What I hope is that if they think the law in this county gets stirred up enough, they’ll back off.”
For the first time, Schoppe looks worried. “I hope you’re right.”
When we get Penny back to the station in Jarrett Creek, he’s all bluff and swagger. Tilley stands up when we walk in, and he eyes Penny with alarm. “What’s he doing here?”
