by Bill Crider
One of the grocery stores was still there, however, and though it was more like a convenience store now, it also had a grill and served hamburgers, which reminded Rhodes that he didn’t want to miss lunch again. He’d stop by for a burger after he talked to the Reeses.
The Reeses had a ranch-style house that was about twice the size of the one the Hunleys had. It was spread out over an area the size of a football field, or that’s how it seemed to Rhodes. The Reeses had a large barn with a corral nearby, and Rhodes figured that Reese liked to live up to his cowboy image by riding a horse in the corral or maybe around the property, which was extensive.
The driveway beside the house led to a three-car garage, on which one of the doors was open. Rhodes saw a brand-new red Ford-150, the King Ranch edition. It wasn’t a horse, but it was something that Charlie Reese would be proud to ride around in.
Rhodes parked behind the new pickup and got out. He hadn’t gotten halfway down the walk to the front of the house before the door opened and Charlie swaggered out. Even at home he was decked out in his western garb: boots, jeans, western shirt with pearlized buttons, and a western hat on his head. He wasn’t wearing his revolver, which was a bit of a surprise.
“Hey, Sheriff,” Charlie said in a mellow baritone. “What’re you doing way down here in Thurston?”
“Just dropped by to talk,” Rhodes said.
Charlie looked dubious. “A friendly conversation? That doesn’t seem too likely to me, if you don’t mind my saying so.”
It was pretty clear from his tone that Charlie didn’t care whether Rhodes minded or not.
“I don’t mind,” Rhodes told him, “but I think it will be friendly. Just a few questions for you and your wife, and I’ll be gone.”
Charlie took a couple of steps toward Rhodes. “I was just about to go for a spin in my new truck. Don’t know as I have time for questions.”
If Charlie thought he was going to push Rhodes around, he had another think coming. Rhodes had to work hard not to grin at his ploy. “You can go for a spin later. Let’s go inside, spend a few minutes talking, and get it over with.”
Charlie didn’t give in that easily. He took another step forward, shoving his bulk toward Rhodes. “Like I said, I don’t have time for that stuff.”
“Make time,” Rhodes said, his tone hardening.
Charlie appeared to be thinking about taking another step, but if he thought of it, he didn’t do it. “Well, if you put it that way, I guess I can give you a few minutes.”
“Good. I need to speak to your wife, too.”
“Let’s go in, then. Arlene’s doing a little housework, though, and she might not want to be interrupted.”
“She won’t mind,” Rhodes said.
“Maybe not,” Charlie said, and he led the way into the house.
They went into a large den with a vaulted ceiling and a big stone fireplace at one end. Next to the fireplace was a gun rack that held a couple of rifles and shotguns. Rhodes thought it was a careless display of firepower, but he didn’t comment. He heard a vacuum cleaner roaring in another room.
“I’ll go get Arlene,” Charlie said. “Be right back. She’s not gonna be happy, though.”
Rhodes wasn’t concerned about Arlene’s happiness. He looked around the den, which was about the size of an aircraft hangar and was furnished in Early Cowboy. The couch and chairs had what appeared to be a cowhide covering, with some of the hair still on them. Western paintings hung on the walls, and near the fireplace there was a sculpture of a man on a bucking horse that sat on a small pedestal. Rhodes could tell that someone had been cleaning because he smelled furniture polish.
Charlie came back into the room. He wasn’t wearing his hat anymore. Arlene, a slim woman with a smooth face and big black eyes, was with him. She wasn’t wearing western clothes. She had on a plain blue housedress, and her dark hair was done up under a scarf like a housewife in an old magazine.
“Sorry for the interruption,” Rhodes told her. “I just have a few questions, and then I’ll be out of your way.”
“I don’t like vacuuming,” Arlene said. She didn’t look unhappy about the interruption at all. “You have a seat and take as much time as you want to.”
Charlie glared at her, but she didn’t notice. Rhodes sat in one of the cowhide chairs, and Charlie and Arlene sat on the couch.
“Ask your questions,” Charlie said. “I want to get on my way.”
Rhodes was tempted to drag things out just to get on Charlie’s nerves, but he decided it would be better to get right to the point. “I’m here about the murder at the schoolhouse.”
“That was awful,” Arlene said. “That poor young man. I read about it online.”
“That poor young man was Lawrence Gates. He was at the school to meet somebody about the local controversy about tearing it down.”
“Should’ve been ripped down years ago,” Charlie said. “Who’s this Gates guy, anyway, sticking his nose into our business. I never heard of him, so he wasn’t from around here.”
“No, he wasn’t,” Rhodes said. “That doesn’t matter, though. He’s dead now, and he died here. I’m going to find out who killed him.”
“It wasn’t me,” Charlie said, “and it wasn’t Arlene. You’re wasting your time here.”
“Maybe, but that’s what I’m paid for. Where were you and Arlene last night?”
“Right here. We don’t get out much.”
“Both of you in the house all the time.”
“Damn right.”
“No,” Arlene said, “that’s not right. You went out for a ride on Samson, remember?”
Charlie got red-faced. “So what? That’s the same as being right here. I just rode around the property for a while and came back in.”
“Well,” Arlene said, “you had to take care of Samson before you came in, rub him down and whatever else it is that you do.”
Rhodes thought about how long it would take someone to get to the school on horseback. Not long, and there were ways to get there from Charlie’s house that wouldn’t expose a horseman to any inquiring eyes.
“Are you trying to get me in trouble?” Charlie asked.
“Of course not,” Arlene said. “I’m just telling the sheriff what we did last night.”
“If I was out of your sight,” Charlie said, “you were out of mine. Think about that?”
Arlene just smiled. What Rhodes was thinking about was what interesting times she and Charlie must have when there were no visitors around.
“What about you, Arlene?” Rhodes asked. “Were you in the house all the time?”
“Yes, I was,” Arlene said.
“You can’t prove it by me,” Charlie said, “and you hate that damn school as much as I do. People never treated you well there. Even the teachers didn’t like you.”
“Some of them did,” Arlene said, though she didn’t sound confident about it.
“Not a one, and you know it. Maybe it was you that dead fella was going to meet. Maybe you were going to tell him all about how you were treated so bad there.”
“I wouldn’t kill him, though,” Arlene said. “I wouldn’t have a reason.”
“Neither would I,” Charlie said. He looked at Rhodes. “It’s stupid for you to be asking us about this. I’m going to complain to the commissioners.”
Rhodes stood up. “That’s a good idea. I suggest you call Mikey Burns. He’s the commissioner for this district, I think. He’d be glad to hear from you.”
Charlie stood as well. “Don’t get smart with me, Sheriff.”
The old school-ground bully was coming out in Charlie. Rhodes didn’t mind playing along for a round or two. “Smart? Me? I wouldn’t dare.”
Arlene giggled, and Charlie turned on her. “You hush up, Arlene.”
Arlene just looked at him. It was obvious that she wasn’t any more afraid of him than Rhodes was.
“I appreciate your answering my questions,” Rhodes said. “I told you it wouldn’t take long.
I’ll just see myself out.”
“Come by anytime, Sheriff,” Arlene said.
Charlie didn’t say anything to that, and Rhodes left them there, looking at each other.
Chapter 15
Once a man named Hod Barrett, who had been none too fond of Rhodes, had owned a small grocery store right in the heart of Thurston, not that the heart was any too big. Hod had passed on, and now the building was owned by a couple whose last name was Kingston. They were from Houston, and Rhodes had no idea how they’d come to own a convenience store and hamburger grill in a tiny Texas hamlet. He’d heard, however, that they made good hamburgers, so that was reason enough to stop in. Not that Ivy didn’t make the occasional hamburger, but she liked to make them from ground turkey. Rhodes preferred beef.
The inside of the store smelled like grilled meat, french fries, and onion rings, which Rhodes thought was an encouraging sign. There were a couple of booths on the right-hand side for people who wanted to dine in. The grill was in the back, behind a high counter, and a beverage cooler and groceries lined the left-hand wall. Rhodes was the only customer when he walked in and was greeted by Kingston, whose first name, Rhodes learned when he introduced himself, was Manny.
“Really, it’s Manford,” Kingston said, “but everybody calls me Manny. Come out here, Gale.”
His wife came out from behind the counter that concealed the grill and shook hands with Rhodes. “What brings you to our place, Sheriff?” she asked.
“Hamburgers,” Rhodes said. “I hear you make good ones.”
“Cheeseburgers are even better,” Gale said. “Want to try one?”
“Sounds good,” Rhodes said.
“All the way?”
“Cut the tomatoes,” Rhodes said. They made a burger too gooshy to suit him.
“How about onion rings or french fries or both?”
“Just the fries,” Rhodes said. No need to give in to every temptation.
Rhodes and Manny sat in one of the booths while Gale grilled the burger. After a couple of seconds of conversation about the weather, Rhodes asked Manny what he knew about the school situation.
“Being a new resident here,” Manny said, “I don’t know a lot. You understand that by new I mean anybody who wasn’t born here. That’s the way the people in town look at it. We moved here because we wanted to get away from the city, and we saw a little business opportunity that we could handle. We’re still not thought of as a real part of the community, but we’re working on it. Part of that is not taking sides in arguments.”
Rhodes heard the sound of meat sizzling on the grill and smelled the french fries. His mouth watered. “Avoiding arguments is generally a good thing, new resident or not, but surely you’ve heard about the school and the arguments about whether it should be torn down.”
“Oh, yes,” Manny said. “We’ve heard about that. People like to talk about it. I try not to listen.”
Gale brought out the burger and fries. She set it on the table and asked Rhodes if he’d like something to drink.
“Dr Pepper if you have the kind with real sugar,” Rhodes said. “Or water if you don’t.”
“It’ll have to be water, then,” Gale told him. “We can’t get the kind with real sugar.”
“Few people can,” Rhodes said. “Water will be fine.”
“You go ahead and eat, Sheriff,” Manny said. “It’s a little early for me.”
It was about eleven, which Rhodes didn’t think was too early, but then he had to take advantage of the opportunity to eat, no matter what time it was. He picked up the cheeseburger from out of its cardboard boat. The paper that wrapped the burger had a bit of grease on it, another good sign.
Rhodes bit into the burger. It was delicious, and he could tell by the crisp underside of the bun that it had been warmed on the grill, where it had absorbed some of the burger’s grease. Rhodes didn’t care how that might affect his heart. What he cared about was how good it made the burger taste.
Gale set water in a paper cup on the table and said, “Well?”
Rhodes finished chewing and said, “Great. I’ll tell all my friends.”
Gale laughed and went to the back of the store. Manny said, “We don’t really listen to what people have to say about the school even though they like to talk about it. If you’re interested in that kind of thing, we won’t be any help.”
Rhodes took another bite of his burger and ate a couple of fries, then said, “What about some of the locals who come in here from time to time, then? Do you know Kenny Lambert or Noble Truelove?”
Manny snorted. “Those two. Yeah, I know them. I’ll sell a burger or some beer to anybody. I don’t have much to say to them or about them, though.”
“Would you recognize Kenny’s pickup if you saw it?” Rhodes asked.
“That rattletrap?” Manny snorted again. “He parks it out front when he’s here. I’m surprised it even runs.”
Rhodes drank some water and ate more of his burger and fries. Then he said, “How late do you stay open?”
“In the summer, like now, when the days are long, we stay open until eight-thirty or so. We get a good bit of business in the late afternoon and early evening.”
“Kenny come in yesterday?”
“As a matter of fact, he and Noble came in and bought a twelve pack.”
So Kenny had been lying about being in Thurston, just as Rhodes had suspected. That made things a bit more interesting.
“What’s this all about, Sheriff?” Manny asked. “You haven’t mentioned the murder, but I’ve sure heard about that. Any connection?”
“Don’t know,” Rhodes said around a mouthful of burger. He finished chewing and added, “It’s just something I was wondering about. Did you see any horsemen pass by?”
Manny laughed. “I see one every now and then, but not yesterday. You think there was a cowboy involved in the murder?”
“You never can tell.”
Rhodes wadded up the paper that his burger had been wrapped in and dropped it in the cardboard boat. He drank some water and set the paper cup back on the table.
“Best burger I’ve had in a long time,” he said. “I’ll stop by again when I’m in town if I get the chance.”
He stood up to go, and Manny stood as well.
“Glad you liked it, Sheriff. You said you’d tell your friends, so don’t forget to do that.”
“You can count on it,” Rhodes said. He picked up his trash.
“We’ll try to get you some of that Dr Pepper you like, too.”
“You probably can’t,” Rhodes said, “but I appreciate the thought.”
“If I hear anything about that murder,” Manny said, “I’ll let you know.”
“You be sure and do that,” Rhodes said, as he tossed his trash into a big round plastic barrel and left the store.
* * *
Rhodes thought things over as he drove back to Clearview. He’d learned more than he thought he would from his conversations, but he wasn’t sure he was any closer to finding Lawrence’s killer.
He was puzzled about what had happened to Lawrence’s car, phone, and wallet. It was possible that robbery was the motive for the killing, but somehow Rhodes couldn’t convince himself of that. Maybe Seepy Benton had found out something from his examination of Lawrence’s computer, and it was possible that Seepy had talked to Roger, who might have thought of some things that would help. If that wasn’t the case, Rhodes would talk to Roger himself. Now that Roger had absorbed some of the shock of Lawrence’s death, he could have remembered something relevant. Probably not, but it had to be checked out.
Rhodes was about halfway to Clearview when the radio crackled, and Hack came on. “Where are you, Sheriff?”
Rhodes told him, and Hack said, “You’re in the right place. Just had a daylight robbery at the Pak-a-Sak.”
“Not again,” Rhodes said. The Pak-a-Sak was a favorite place for daylight robberies and nighttime robberies.
“Yep, again,” Hack said. �
�Perp is headed your way. Drivin’ a white Ford Crown Victoria. Should be easy to spot.”
The perp could’ve turned off on any number of side roads, but if he was trying to get out of the county, he’d still be on the highway.
“Did I mention that it’s a woman?” Hack asked.
“No, you didn’t mention that,” Rhodes said, feeling guilty about his sexist thinking.
“Well, it is. Short but pretty cute, according to Ferris.” Ferris was the clerk at the Pak-n-Sak. “How many times now has he been robbed, anyway?”
“Too many,” Rhodes said. “Is she armed?”
“Ferris said she had something that looked like a gun. He didn’t look too close. You be careful.”
“I will,” Rhodes said. He looked out his windshield at the road ahead and saw a white Ford barreling down on him. “Here she comes now.”
He racked the mic without signing off and didn’t hear Hack’s reply. As the Crown Vic blew past him, he made a U-turn, using both shoulders, and turned on the Charger’s siren and light bars. He wasn’t going to have time to think over his conversations, after all. People who thought he worked on one case at a time had no idea of the interruptions he had to deal with and the other tracks he had to take every single day.
The Crown Vic had been speeding, but when the driver spotted Rhodes, its speed increased. Rhodes wondered if it was the Police Interceptor model. If it was, even the Charger might have trouble keeping up. Those old Crown Vics had a lot of power. Rhodes pushed the accelerator down and the Charger jumped forward.
Rhodes wasn’t fond of chasing people in cars. It was too dangerous for all concerned, including innocent motorists or people in the path of the chase. He was especially dubious of chases inside the city limits where the dangers to others were double or triple. That said, he sometimes had to engage in a chase, and this was one of those times. The only good thing about it was that it was taking place on a straight road with few hills and little traffic.
