by Bill Crider
Except that Brant hadn’t been armed in either case, and both the other men had been. It was possible that Brant wouldn’t have expected that, but surely he hadn’t thought his accusations would cause the men to go to Rhodes and confess. There was something else about Brant’s accusations that Rhodes couldn’t quite put his finger on, but it would come to him sooner or later. He hoped.
A the moment it was all too complicated for Rhodes, but he knew that more was going on with Brant than anybody could see on the surface.
Brant and Jennifer were talking, but Rhodes heard only the buzz, not the words, because he was wondering what Brant might have done if Mrs. Harris had somehow found out that he wasn’t a colonel. And if she’d confronted him with his imposture. Judging from the way he’d gone after Truck and Thorpe, he might have reacted violently.
Why face up to Truck and Thorpe, then? To prove to Rhodes that he couldn’t possibly have killed Mrs. Harris because of his high regard for her?
While Rhodes was thinking it over, the conversation began to register with him again.
“I’m not ashamed of what I did or didn’t do about the rank,” Brant said, “but it wouldn’t happen again the way it did, not if I could do it over.”
“Nobody gets do-overs,” Jennifer told him. “It doesn’t work like that.”
Brant said he knew it didn’t and that Jennifer could interview him again on the next Veterans Day. “I’ll come clean about it. I’ll say I made a mistake and that I just let it go on and on.”
Jennifer told him that there wasn’t any real need for that, but she’d think it over.
“What’s your opinion, Sheriff?” Brant said. “Should I apologize to the community?”
“It might not be a bad idea. Sometimes people are quick to forgive things.”
“And sometimes they’re not,” Jennifer said, as if she knew what she was talking about.
“That’s a discussion for another time,” Rhodes said. “I think we’d better leave now and let Mr. Brant think things over.”
If Brant noticed the omission of his title, he didn’t show any sign of it. He stood up and apologized for any trouble he’d caused Jennifer and Rhodes.
“You didn’t cause any trouble for us,” Rhodes said. “You might have caused it for yourself.”
“I’m afraid you’re right,” Brant said.
Rhodes left it at that, but he figured he wasn’t through with Brant. Not yet.
Chapter 23
RHODES KNEW THAT IF HE WENT BACK TO THE JAIL, HACK WOULD try to find out what Jennifer had told him. Rhodes wasn’t ready to face that interrogation yet, so to put off the inevitable he decided to do some more investigating.
First, however, he got on the radio to Hack and asked if there’d been a report from the hospital about Leo Thorpe’s condition.
“Sure has. You can bet he’s not fakin’ this time. You don’t have to worry about him gettin’ away, either. He might not ever be leavin’ at all. They didn’t come right out and say it, but Thorpe’s about as likely to die as to live. Even if he lives, he might not wake up. That bullet did some real damage. His brain’s swelled up.”
That didn’t sound good. Rhodes wanted Thorpe alive even if he was guilty.
“You through with Miz Loam?” Hack said, getting to the subject he had a personal interest in.
“Yes. I’m going to talk to somebody else now.”
“You gonna tell me who, or is that another big secret? We’re supposed to kind of keep up with you. Part of the job.”
“It’s no secret. I’ll be at Thelma Rice’s place.”
“I’m glad you trust me enough to let me in on things like that.”
Rhodes didn’t bother to answer. He signed off and drove to Thelma Rice’s house, located on a quiet street in an old neighborhood not too far from the cemetery where Helen Harris would soon be buried.
Thelma didn’t have on her red hat or purple dress. She was sitting on a stool in her front yard, working in a flower bed, digging out early weeds. She’d pull them up and toss them into a galvanized bucket by her side, and she was so intent on her work that she didn’t hear Rhodes park at the curb, get out of the car, and walk up to her.
She was talking to herself as she yanked out the weeds.
“One more of you sorry suckers gone,” Rhodes heard her say as his shadow fell across her. She jerked a little in surprise, then looked up at him from beneath the brim of the blue-and-white sunbonnet she wore.
“You ought not to sneak up on innocent women in their yards, Sheriff. You might scare them to death. You wouldn’t want that on your conscience.”
“I wasn’t trying to scare you. I just didn’t want to interrupt.”
She took off the cotton work gloves she was wearing and hung them on the side of the bucket. “You must think I’m crazy, talking to the weeds.”
Rhodes grinned. “They probably listen better than some people I know.”
“You and I must know some of the same people.” Thelma stood up. She wasn’t much taller than she’d been while sitting down. “I need a drink.”
In Clearview, that comment didn’t mean the same thing as it might have in a bigger city. It just meant that Thelma was thirsty. She walked to the end of the flower bed near the driveway where a bright yellow hose lay coiled on the ground. She turned the handle of a faucet that protruded from the wall of the house, then picked up the end of the hose. When the water flowed from it, she put it up to her mouth and drank.
“Not very elegant,” she said when she’d finished. She offered the hose to Rhodes. “You need a drink?”
“No, thanks. What I need is to talk to you a little more.”
“About Helen?”
“Yes. I don’t seem to be getting anywhere with finding out who killed her, and I need to know more.”
“Can’t help you there. I told you all I know already.”
“I’m not asking for facts this time. I’ll settle for gossip. It might even be preferable.”
Thelma walked back to her stool and sat down. She took her gloves off the bucket and put them back on, pulling them tight and stretching her fingers.
“A lot of people prefer gossip to the truth,” she said. “It’s a lot more fun, but it can also get people in a lot of trouble. Most of the time, they don’t deserve it.”
She started to pull the weeds again, but this time she did it in silence.
“You sound like someone who knows the effects.”
“I’ve never married, Sheriff. I inherited a little money from my grandparents, so I’ve never had to work.”
Rhodes remembered that she’d had a job for a while as a secretary at the elementary school, but that had been quite a few years ago.
“I tried working,” she said when he mentioned it. “I found out that a single woman with no interest in marriage, or even in dating, was in a precarious position.” She threw a handful of weeds into the bucket. If she’d been throwing a baseball, the Houston Astros might have considered giving her a tryout. “People talk about her. They don’t really want her working around their children. Do you know what I’m saying?”
Rhodes said that he thought he got the idea.
“You might get the idea, but you don’t know how devastating it can be. It was all untrue, of course. Gossip usually is. I’m as straight-arrow as anybody in this town, but I quit the school job anyway. The truth of the matter is that men simply never interested me except as friends or someone to talk to. I never even considered the idea of marriage. I like reading, sewing, and taking care of myself. I don’t have any interest in taking on a ‘life partner’ of either sex. I’m happy right where I am, doing what I like to do.” She pulled some weeds and threw them in the bucket. “Even if it’s just doing this.”
Rhodes said there was nothing wrong with that.
“There certainly isn’t, but not everyone sees it that way. Or they didn’t when I was young. They had to make more of it than it was. Now that I’m older, though, I’m not considered
much of a risk. Old people aren’t supposed to be interested in sex, you know.”
Rhodes knew. He’d been thinking along those lines not too long ago, himself. He remembered Francine Oates and her romance novel. Even Francine, lady that she considered herself, needed some romance in her life.
“I’ve aged a little,” Thelma went on, “and people don’t mind associating with me, maybe because they don’t think I’m dangerous anymore. It could be that they’ve forgotten the gossip, too. I’ve managed to make quite a few friends in the Red Hats and the OWLS.”
“Or maybe they’re a little more enlightened now.”
“I wouldn’t bet on it. Anyway, I don’t like talking about people. I know how hurtful that can be.”
Rhodes was beginning to get the idea. “That means you’re not going to tell me anything.”
“You catch on quick, Sheriff.”
Rhodes didn’t think so. It had taken him longer than it should have, and even though he’d caught on, he wasn’t going to give up.
“Wasn’t Helen Harris your friend?”
Thelma pulled a few more weeds and put them in the bucket before she looked up at Rhodes again. “Now, that’s not fair.”
Rhodes could look innocent when it served his purposes. “Just asking.”
“I’m sure. You know that Helen was my friend, and I’d like to help. If I can do it without being hurtful. What do you want to know about? Specifically.”
“Leonard Thorpe. I’ve heard he’s a romantic kind of guy, but I can’t seem to locate anybody he’s romanced.”
Not counting Mrs. Gomez, Rhodes thought, and she truly didn’t count because Thorpe had gotten nowhere with her.
“Do you mean recently? Or just any old time?”
Rhodes hadn’t given it any thought. “Any old time will do.”
“I did hear a few things about him years ago, when I worked at the school. He cut a wide swath there, so they said.”
“Any names?”
“I can’t remember any, to tell the truth. That was a long time ago.” She paused to reflect. “Well, maybe one name, but I hate to say.”
“It could help me find out who killed Mrs. Harris. You never know.”
“It’s nothing but gossip. Nothing factual about it. You remember when Lily Gadney was teaching at the elementary school?”
Rhodes said that he didn’t.
“She was younger than most everybody there. You know how this school system is. The pay is the state minimum. Either you leave after a year or two for a better job, or you stay forever for whatever reason you might have. That means a lot of young teachers coming in every year as the others leave. Lily was one of them, and Leo tried to move in on her.”
“He was a good bit older, though.”
Thelma made a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a snort of derision. “When did that ever make a difference to a man?”
She had a point. Rhodes said, “Did he put the moves on anybody else?”
“Several, or so I heard, but I’m not sure of the names. You could find out who was teaching there then. Helen could tell you, I’m sure, if only she were alive. Leonard’s behavior was humiliating to her. I remember that much.”
Rhodes spent five more minutes trying to get Thelma to remember something more, but Thelma insisted she’d told him all she knew. “And more. I don’t really know about Lily. It’s gossip, but that’s what you said you wanted.”
It wasn’t that he wanted it so much, Rhodes thought, as that he didn’t have anything else.
“You say you like living alone?” Rhodes said.
“Yes. It suits me. I’ve always been very self-sufficient.”
“Have you ever thought about a pet? I know a nice housebroken cat that needs a good home.”
Thelma stopped pulling weeds. She smiled under the brim of the bonnet. “I like cats. I’ve had two living with me for years. Frankie and Johnny. Like the song. They never come outside.” She went back to her weeding. “I couldn’t possibly take in another one. They’d hate that. They’re very spoiled.”
Well, Rhodes thought, at least I tried.
He left Thelma working in the flower bed and started back to the jail.
On the way he pulled off into the drive-through lane at McDonald’s and got a Quarter Pounder with cheese. He told himself that he needed some nourishment and that he’d eat a light supper to make up for his indulgence.
While he sat in his car and ate the burger, he thought about the connection between Lily Gadney and Leo Thorpe and wondered what it meant, if anything. The connection to Helen Harris was tenuous at best, other than that Thorpe’s antics had humiliated her. That was something Rhodes needed to know more about. After he finished the burger, he put all the paper and cardboard into the bag it had come in and put everything into the big trash can in the McDonald’s parking lot.
If he went back to the jail, he’d have to talk to Hack, and he still wasn’t ready for that. He thought it might be a good idea to have another talk with Alton Brant.
Brant wasn’t happy to see Rhodes again, but he was polite, inviting him in and offering him a seat in the den. “That is, if you don’t mind sitting this time. I wouldn’t want to force anything on you.”
Rhodes sat on the couch, which was just as uncomfortable as he’d thought it would be.
“I hate to bother you again.”
“Right,” Brant said.
“I wouldn’t have come back if I hadn’t heard a few things I hoped you could help me with. You really seemed to have it in for Leonard Thorpe, and it started before he got after you with that chain saw.”
“I’ve already told you that.”
Rhodes looked over at the heavy glass paperweights. Put one of those things in a sock, he thought, and you could hit a person in the head with it and cause a lot more damage than you could with a wooden stool.
“I don’t think you did tell me,” Rhodes said, looking back at Brant. “It doesn’t matter. I want to know what the problem was between you and Thorpe.”
“It wasn’t just me who had a problem. It was Helen.”
“It was mainly you, though, wasn’t it.”
It wasn’t a question, and Brant didn’t bother with a denial. “Thorpe seemed to have it in for me. I don’t know why. He goaded me and tried to make my life miserable.”
“Why would he do that?”
“He didn’t want me going out with Helen. He hated the idea of it. I don’t know why. I asked him about it, but he wouldn’t even talk rationally. He took every opportunity to cuss me out and tell me what he thought of me, though. None of it was flattering, believe me.”
“You went over to his trailer now and then to get cussed out.”
“I was just trying to be friendly. I’d go by to see how he was doing, mainly because Helen asked me to check on him. They didn’t get along all that well, but she felt responsible for him, in a way. All I ever got out of it was a good cussing. It was almost as if he was trying to force me to do something to him, get into a fight or insult him. Up until lately, I was able to overlook things like that. Now I seem to get mad about nearly anything. I think it could be some kind of chemical imbalance. The ‘grumpy old man syndrome, ’ I guess. I’m not getting any younger. I’ll ask the doctor at my next checkup.”
“When Thorpe was younger, his womanizing bothered Mrs. Harris. It still did. Was he seeing anybody in particular these days?”
“I don’t know.”
Rhodes didn’t believe him. He said so.
Brant bristled. “I’m telling you the truth, Sheriff. I don’t know who he was seeing. Oh, he was seeing somebody, all right. Helen told me. I don’t know how she found out, because Thorpe and whoever it was managed to keep it a big secret. Helen wouldn’t say who the woman was, but you’re right about the way she felt. She was bothered. A lot.” Brant paused and his eyes took on a distant look as he recollected something. “And then she wasn’t upset anymore. She was more cheerful than she’d been for a good while. I d
idn’t know why because she wouldn’t tell me, so I decided the smart thing to do was to enjoy her good mood. I assumed that it came about because she and Thorpe had worked things out, but now I don’t believe that.”
“Why not?”
“Because she cheered up right after that metal-detecting trip. Thorpe didn’t have anything to do with that.”
It occurred to Rhodes that Brant hadn’t heard about Thorpe’s recent adventures and their result. He explained the situation.
“Thorpe was out there at the Tumlinson place,” Rhodes said after he’d finished sketching in the events of the previous night. “Maybe that metal-detecting trip did have something to do with him.”
Brant said he couldn’t imagine what because Mrs. Harris hadn’t mentioned Thorpe lately. “Whether that metal detecting had anything to do with him or not won’t make any difference anyway. Not if he’s as bad off as you tell me he is. I can’t say that I feel sorry for him, and I don’t even feel bad about it.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I think he might have killed Helen. If he didn’t kill her, why did he run?”
There was the little matter of assaulting the sheriff with a chain saw, Rhodes thought, among other things.
“You never know about people,” Rhodes said. “You thought Truck Gadney was guilty, too. Did Helen ever mention his wife, Lily?”
Brant thought about it and said that he recalled something about how they’d taught school together. “Helen didn’t seem too fond of her, if that’s what you’re looking for. I got the impression that they weren’t friendly. What does Lily have to do with all this?”
Rhodes said that he wasn’t sure.
“If Thorpe’s guilty, you can quit investigating, can’t you?”
“I could if Thorpe were guilty, but I don’t know that he is, and he can’t tell me.”
