Half in Love with Artful Death (15 page)

“That's true of a lot of things,” Rhodes said, thinking of Burt Collins. “A whole life can end that quickly.”

Nobody had anything to say to that, so Rhodes left them there. He snagged another chocolate chip cookie on the way out to cheer himself up.

*   *   *

When Rhodes arrived at the jail to put the bust in the evidence locker, Hack was on the phone. He was writing something on a note pad, so Rhodes didn't bother him. He logged in the bust and got it put away.

After he'd finished with that, he went to his desk. Hack was ready for him.

“Got a problem for you,” Hack said.

“I'm working on a murder investigation,” Rhodes told him. “That's a big enough problem right there.”

“I know that, but you might want to handle this one that was just called in. Nobody else is close enough. Andy's in Milsby on a domestic spat, and Ruth's in Thurston to check out a break-in at the community center. Somebody's got to take care of this one right now, and you're right here. Ivy might not like for you to do it, though.”

“She knows the sheriff has to do the tough jobs. What is it?”

“Naked woman,” Hack said.

“You're right,” Rhodes said. “Ivy might not like it. What's going on?”

“Don't know for sure. The caller said he didn't know. Just said there was a naked woman at that rest area out on the highway to Railville, just before you get to the county line.” Hack looked thoughtful. “Just about fifty yards away from the line, I think. Maybe she's in the other county, but I guess you'll have to check since we got the call. You know where it is?”

Rhodes knew. It wasn't much of a rest area, really, just one old concrete table with cracked concrete benches on either side, looking like an old WPA project from way back in the previous century. There was a trash can made out of a fifty-five-gallon barrel, too, but that was about all.

“What's she doing?” Rhodes asked.

“Runnin' around, the man said. He said he didn't pay her much attention, but he thought he'd better report it.”

“That's it?”

“That's all. Except he said she's about thirty, maybe five-seven, red hair, around a hundred and twenty-five pounds.”

“Didn't you say he didn't pay her much attention?”

“Yeah, but I was just repeatin' what he said. I didn't say I believed him.”

“Is he still at the rest area?”

“Nope. Said he had to leave. He'd done his duty as a citizen, but he couldn't stay. Sounded like he wanted to, though.”

“He didn't try to help her?”

“Said he tried, but she just ran off into the bushes.”

“I'd better check on it, then,” Rhodes said. “Unless you think he was joking.”

“He didn't sound like he was joking. Gave his name and address in Railville if you want to get in touch with him. Stanley Eckerd.”

“Nobody would make up a name like that, I guess.”

“What I thought,” Hack said. “You go on out there. I won't tell Ivy about it.”

“There's nothing to tell her.”

“You ain't got there yet.”

“Never mind. When Ruth comes in, tell her to get hold of Judge Fleming and get a subpoena for Burt Collins's phone records.”

“It's Saturday. Judge'll be playin' golf.”

“Ruth knows where the golf course is. I'd like to see those records. I've been thinking that I pay too much attention to cell phones. Burt didn't even have one of those.”

“I'll tell her. May not work. Gettin' the phone folks to cooperate on Saturday's not easy.”

“Ruth can do it. That's not all. Have her check the head I just put in the evidence locker for fingerprints.”

“Head? What head?”

“It's a bust,” Rhodes said. “You know, like a statue, but just the head.”

“Oh. The one from Burt's place?”

“I don't know, but the odds are that it is.”

“I'll have her check it. I hope I don't have to get that redhead checked for prints.”

“You won't find mine on her,” Rhodes said.

“That's what I'd say, too, if I was in your place.”

“I wouldn't blame you a bit,” Rhodes said.

 

Chapter 13

Rhodes pulled into the rest area behind an old Chevy pickup with rust spots on the tailgate. He got out of the county car and looked around. He hadn't been in this rest area in years, but it looked pretty much the same as ever. It was a pleasant day, plenty of sunshine, cool but not cold, not much of a breeze to speak of. Rhodes thought it might not seem so pleasant if he didn't have any clothes on.

He didn't see a naked woman, but he did see a man sitting at one of the tables. It was shaded by cedar elms with some green leaves still on them. Most of the leaves were yellow, and the ground was littered with them.

The man at the table was eating a sandwich. A brown paper bag and a can of Dr Pepper sat on the table near him. He took a bite from the sandwich and laid it down on some waxed paper. He chewed for a second and then took a swig from the Dr Pepper can. Rhodes walked over to him, briefly envying him the Dr Pepper.

“Been here long?” Rhodes asked.

The man was about sixty, Rhodes thought. He had a seamed face and close-set eyes. He wore an Astros cap, a floral shirt, and faded jeans. He looked at the badge holder hanging from Rhodes's belt.

“Been here 'bout five minutes. Just got started on my ham and cheese sandwich. That against the law in this county?”

Rhodes eyed the sandwich. It looked pretty good to him. So did the Dr Pepper. “Not in the least.”

“If it's not, then you must be looking for the naked woman.”

“That's right,” Rhodes said. “You seen her?”

“You bet. My name's Gates. Jerry Gates. No relation to Bill, more's the pity. Wouldn't mind having some of that money of his. I'm from Waco. Going to see my cousin over in Palestine. Thought I'd stop here and eat my sandwich.” The man shook his head. “Never thought I'd see a naked woman, though, not that I have any objections. Woman wants to go naked, I say let her go. You, now, being a sheriff, you might not feel that way.”

“She could be in trouble,” Rhodes said.

“Probably is. Probably going to get arrested for public indecency.”

“I'm not talking about that kind of trouble. Usually somebody without clothes in a rest area is in some other kind of trouble.”

Gates nodded. “I see what you mean. Drugs, assault, that kind of thing.”

“Yes,” Rhodes said. “That kind of thing.”

“Maybe so,” Gates said, “but when I asked her if she needed help, she just headed for the bushes. I figured I'd better back off.”

Now they were getting somewhere, Rhodes thought. Thick bushes grew at each end of the rest area, and they were even thicker across the barbed wire fence that separated the rest area from privately owned land.

“Which bushes?” Rhodes asked.

Gates pointed. “Across that fence.”

Rhodes didn't see how anybody without clothing could cross the fence without some difficulty. Then he saw that someone had built a wooden stile that provided a way over the fence.

“Not any restrooms in this rest area,” Gates said. “You can get a little privacy over across the fence.”

“You sure she's over there?”

“That's where she went. Can't say if she's still there, but she didn't come back by here.”

“I'd better take a look.”

“I'm gonna eat my sandwich,” Gates said. “If you need any help, you just holler.”

“I'll be sure to do that,” Rhodes said.

Before he crossed the fence, he went back to the car and looked in the trunk. He had some blankets, but a blanket wasn't really what he needed. He moved the blankets aside and found what he was looking for, a long raincoat with a hood. That would do it. He took out the raincoat, shut the trunk, and headed for the stile.

Gates was finished with his sandwich. He wadded up the wax paper and put it in the paper bag. Picking up the Dr Pepper can, he said, “No place to recycle around here, I guess.”

“No,” Rhodes said. “Sorry about that.”

“Doesn't bother me much.” Gates put the can in the bag. He slid off the bench and carried the bag to the trash can. “If you don't think you'll need any help, I'll be going. My cousin's expecting me. We're going fishing this afternoon at some secret place he's got staked out. Never been fished before. Supposed to be some nice fat bass in it.”

Rhodes hadn't been fishing in far too long. The thought of an unfished lake with fat bass in it was very appealing, but he knew he'd never get a chance at it.

“You can go on,” Rhodes said. “I wouldn't want to keep a man from a fishing spot like that.”

“Well, all right, I guess I will, then,” Gates said. “I hope you can find that woman. She was kind of pretty. Wouldn't want her to catch a cold, running around out here in the woods without any clothes on.”

They weren't exactly in the woods to Rhodes's way of thinking. The bushes were thick around the rest area, but there weren't many trees. Cars passed by on the highway every now and then, their tires droning on the pavement.

“I'll do what I can to help her,” Rhodes said.

Gates pitched the bag into the trash and walked to his pickup. Rhodes went on to the fence and climbed the stile. He'd started down the other side when he heard a door slam. Then the pickup started. Rhodes looked back and saw it drive away. He hoped he wouldn't need any help. Then again, Gates might have been as much of a hindrance as a help.

Standing at the bottom of the stile with the raincoat folded over one arm, Rhodes called out, “Ma'am, can you hear me? I'm Dan Rhodes, sheriff of Blacklin County. I have a raincoat here that will cover you, and I can take you home or to a hospital or anywhere you need to go.”

No answer.

“Ma'am?” Rhodes said, a little louder. “Can you hear me?”

He thought he saw the bushes move over on his right.

“I'm not here to hurt you,” he said. “Just to help.”

He waited. After about half a minute a woman's voice said, “How do I know you're who you say?”

“I have a badge,” Rhodes said.

He unclipped the badge from his belt and held it up. A woman's head peeked over the top of some bushes about ten yards away. She had red hair, just as Hack had said. The bushes were so thick that Rhodes couldn't see the rest of her. Just as well, he thought.

“Are you going to arrest me?” the woman asked.

“Can't say for sure. I don't know what's going on here, so right now I just want to help you.”

“You need to arrest Neil, that's who you need to arrest.”

Rhodes peered at the bushes. He thought he could see a hint of human flesh through the leaves.

“Who's Neil?” he asked.

“He's the one who took my clothes.”

Rhodes thought about the circumstances under which a woman might be naked in a rest area so that someone could take her clothes.

“It's not what you think,” the woman said.

Rhodes had to smile. All too often women seemed to know what he was thinking.

“I'll tell you what,” he said. “I have a raincoat here. I'm going to walk over there and pitch it over those bushes. You put it on, and then you can come out. We'll talk things over, and you can tell me about Neil.”

“He wouldn't like that.”

“Do you care?”

The woman didn't say anything for a while. Rhodes waited. A little breeze had come up. It blew the fallen leaves around the rest area and made even more of them drop off the trees.

After a minute or so the woman said, “All right. You can bring me the coat.”

Rhodes walked over to the bushes. “Here it comes,” he said, and he tossed the raincoat over the bushes.

The woman didn't try to catch the coat, and it fell out of Rhodes's sight. She rustled around in the bushes while she put it on.

“I'm coming out now,” she said.

“I'll just go on back to the table,” Rhodes told her. “I'll wait for you there.”

He climbed back over the fence and sat on one of the concrete benches. He didn't watch as the woman came over the stile. He wasn't sure how much coverage the raincoat would provide.

As it turned out, it provided plenty. When she neared the table, Rhodes looked up and saw that she'd zipped it all the way up and that it hung down below her calves. She hadn't put the hood on. She was wearing white canvas shoes. Rhodes had wondered how she could traipse around barefooted. Now he knew she hadn't had to.

She sat across from Rhodes at the table, and he decided that the description Hack had been given was accurate. She was no older than thirty, and she definitely had red hair. Her eyes were brown. She had freckles, which the caller hadn't mentioned. Maybe he hadn't gotten close enough to see them.

“I'm Dan Rhodes,” Rhodes said. “Sheriff of Blacklin County.”

“You already told me that.”

“That's right, I did. You haven't told me who you are, though.”

“Vicki Patton. Vicki with an
i
, not a
y
.” She paused. “I'm not from around here.”

“How about Neil?” Rhodes asked. “Is he from around here?”

“Neil Foshee,” the woman said. “That's his name.”

“I know of some Foshees,” Rhodes said. “From out around Milsby.”

Milsby had been a town once, but there wasn't much of it left now. There were still houses in the area, however, and people still lived in a lot of them.

“He's one of those Foshees,” Vicki said.

That wasn't a recommendation in Rhodes's opinion. The Foshees who lived in the Milsby area weren't the most upstanding citizens in Blacklin County. Rhodes didn't know one named Neil, however.