Half in Love with Artful Death (24 page)

Yancey tried to nudge his nose into Speedo's food. Rhodes told him to wait his turn, but Yancey was too impatient. Speedo snapped at him, and though it had happened dozens of times before, Yancey acted surprised and hurt. He let out a sad little yip and moved over to his own bowl, where he sat looking at Speedo as if he'd just been betrayed by his best friend.

Rhodes put some food in Yancey's bowl, and after a few seconds Yancey decided to stop feeling sorry for himself and eat. When they'd both eaten and drunk some water, they ran around the yard for a while, and then Rhodes called Yancey to the door. They went inside, where Ivy had fed the cats and was cooking some of the turkey bacon. Rhodes told himself again that, while it didn't smell like real bacon, it wasn't too bad.

“I thought you'd sleep in today,” he said.

“So did I,” Ivy said, “but you woke me up with all your thrashing around.”

“I had a bad dream,” Rhodes said.

“I don't want to hear about it. Do you want eggs with your bacon?”

“Don't have time,” Rhodes said. “Crimes to solve and killers to catch.”

“Did you dream a clue?”

Rhodes thought about the dream, and suddenly he remembered that the Bee Gees had been riding goats in the rodeo arena.

“If it's a clue,” he said, “it'll be the strangest crime I've ever solved.”

*   *   *

When Rhodes got to the jail, the first thing he did was check on the prisoners that Andy had brought in from the meth house. They'd been treated at the hospital, but neither of them had a serious wound, so they were now guests of the county. They weren't happy about it, but that didn't bother Rhodes. He'd rarely had a jail inmate who was happy about his circumstances.

“They think the bunks are too hard,” Lawton said as he and Rhodes stood outside the cells and looked in on the prisoners. “I told 'em we were all out of those memory-foam mattresses. You reckon we'll be gettin' any more of 'em?”

“Nope,” Rhodes said. “We never had any in the first place.”

“Oh, yeah,” Lawton said. “I shoulda mentioned that to 'em.”

“We want our guests to be happy, though,” Rhodes said, “so I'll put in a requisition.”

“Ha ha ha,” Neil Foshee said. The other two said nothing.

“No sense of humor,” Lawton said. “Can't take a joke.”

“Well, it wasn't a very good joke,” Rhodes said.

He left the cellblock and went to his desk to do his report on the convenience store robbery. Hack hadn't asked him about it, which was a bad sign. It meant that Hack had something to tell him, and that meant that Rhodes would have to draw him out. In a few minutes, Lawton came out of the cellblock into the office. This was another bad sign. It meant that they were going to double-team him.

“You catch anybody last night?” Hack asked.

“Nope. Sent somebody to the hospital, though.”

Rhodes thought that at least he could have his own fun with Hack, but it didn't work out like that.

“Yeah,” Hack said. “I know all about it.”

Rhodes sighed. It was hard to get ahead of Hack. “How'd you find out?”

“Jennifer Loam heard the call for the ambulance on her police scanner. She was at the hospital when they brought Oscar in. They kept him overnight for observation, so she visited with him and got the whole story. It's up on her Web site this morning.”

Rhodes wasn't tempted to look at it.

“Made Oscar sound like the new Sage Barton,” Lawton said.

“Sure did,” Hack said. “Went after that robber with nothin' but a pistol. Shot at him, too.”

“Didn't hit him, though,” Lawton said. “Oscar's not much of a shot.”

“It was dark,” Rhodes said, “and there were trees. Besides, Oscar was running. Even a good shot wouldn't be likely to hit anybody under those circumstances.”

“You could,” Hack said. “You and Sage Barton.”

Rhodes didn't want to hear any more about Sage Barton. “We don't need citizens going after robbers and shooting at them. It's dangerous, and Oscar probably knows that now. Besides, if he'd hit the robber, he'd be in real trouble.”

“Yep,” Lawton said. “Robber'd get himself a good lawyer and sue Oscar's pants off. Robber'd wind up owning the store.”

“I think Oscar's learned a good lesson,” Rhodes said.

“Took a hard hit to the head to teach him,” Hack said. “We can't go hittin' all the citizens in the head just to teach 'em a lesson, can we?”

“Maybe we could start with just a few of 'em,” Lawton said.

“I can think of some that could use it,” Hack said. “I'd like to be the one to make the list of who gets hit.”

“Like that woman last night,” Lawton said. “She'd be on it.”

Rhodes knew they were about to get to it. Not that they'd get there directly, but the journey of a thousand miles had at least begun with the first step.

“She didn't need a knock on the head,” Hack said. “She just needed some help from the law. That's what she said, anyway. Said it was an emergency.”

Rhodes knew it was his turn, so he said, “Help for what?”

“Car trouble,” Hack said.

“We don't usually call that an emergency,” Rhodes said.

“This kind of car trouble is,” Lawton said.

“What kind was it?”

“The kind where she said somebody'd broke into her car,” Hack said.

“Cleaned it out,” Lawton said. “Took ever'thing.”

“Sure did,” Hack said. “She told me the stereo was gone, the radio was gone, the steering wheel was gone, and even the accelerator and brake were gone.”

“That's some serious trouble, all right,” Rhodes said, wondering how anybody could make off with all that. Why would anybody even try? Who would want a steering wheel?

“Who'd you send to investigate?” he asked.

“Sent Ruth. She was on patrol down around Thurston, and that's where this happened.”

“It must have taken more than one person to dismantle a car like that,” Rhodes said.

“Maybe not,” Lawton said, and Hack favored him with a hard look.

“What makes you say that?” Rhodes asked.

“Might not have taken even one person, that's why,” Lawton said before Hack could cut him off.

Rhodes didn't get it. He knew there was a catch. There was always a catch, but he couldn't figure out what it was. He told himself he wouldn't ask, but he knew he would, eventually, so why not get it out of the way?

“What did Ruth find?” he asked.

“She didn't find anything,” Hack said.

“Surely she found the car and investigated the complaint.”

“Well, she found the car. Found the woman, too. Turned out there wasn't any complaint. Woman apologized, and Ruth gave her a ride home.”

Rhodes was getting more confused than ever, but he tried not to show it. “I can see why she needed a ride. Hard to drive without a steering wheel or a brake. I don't see why there wasn't a complaint, though.”

“'Cause none of that stuff was missing,” Hack said. “It was all there.”

“Then why did the woman call us?”

“It looked like it was all gone to her,” Lawton said. “See—”

“I'm the one got the call,” Hack said. “Seems like when Ruth got there, she found out what the trouble was. Hadn't been anything taken after all. It was just a mistake.”

“How could anybody think all that was missing if it wasn't?” Rhodes asked.

“Easy,” Hack said. “She was in the backseat instead of the front.”

Rhodes finally caught on. “Alcohol was involved.”

“Right. I'm surprised she could even use a cell phone, bein' that impaired. That's why Ruth took her home. She'd been drinkin' at her boyfriend's house, and when it came time to go home, he wasn't in any shape to drive her. So she was goin' to drive herself.”

“Couldn't, though,” Lawton said, “not havin' a steerin' wheel and all.”

“Just as well she got in the backseat,” Rhodes said. “I don't like to think about what might've happened if she'd gotten on the road.”

“Maybe not much,” Hack said. “Hardly anybody out on the roads down in Thurston after dark.”

“Mighta been somebody, though,” Lawton said, “and she couldn't see 'em if they were there.”

“Sure couldn't,” Hack said. “Couldn't even see she was in the backseat 'stead of the front.”

Rhodes was reminded of what he and Ivy had been talking about the previous night, about the difference between seeing and observing. The woman in Thurston couldn't see where she was, much less observe anything. He thought about some of the things he'd seen during the past couple of days. Doris Clements had told him he was pretty observant when he'd talked to her on the phone at Frances Bennett's house. Rhodes wondered if he really was. He'd seen some things that he hadn't observed carefully enough. As he thought back on them now, some of them started to mean a lot more to him than they had at first.

“I have to go see Ella Collins,” he said.

“Her sister's from Thurston, ain't she?” Hack asked.

“She is, but she wasn't the woman in the car last night.”

“Nope. That was Liz Corley in the car. That's what she told me, anyway. What you want to see Miz Collins about?”

“I'll tell you later,” Rhodes said, and he scooted out the door before Hack could say anything more.

*   *   *

It was still early, but Rhodes thought that Ella Collins would be up and about. He didn't think her sister would be there. She would've gone back to Thurston, having helped Ella make the funeral arrangements. The funeral would most likely be on Monday, and Ella would have a lot of last-minute things to take care of.

Rhodes went up on the porch and knocked on the door. Ella came quickly and opened it. She seemed a little surprised to see him.

“I thought you might be somebody bringing food,” she said. “I hope you didn't bring anything. I already have a kitchen full. Casseroles and vegetables and all like that. Lots of desserts, too. You know how it is.”

Rhodes knew how it was. When someone in Clearview died, people wanted to help somehow or other, and everyone seemed to believe that the best way to do that was to bring food.

“I didn't bring anything to eat,” he said, “but I'd like to come in if that's all right.”

Ella pulled the door all the way open. “Did you find out who killed Burt?”

“Not yet,” Rhodes said. “I have an idea or two about that, but I can't say for sure. Do you feel like answering a few questions?”

“I guess so,” Ella said. “Come on back to the kitchen.”

Rhodes followed her to the kitchen. Ruth had removed the crime-scene tape from the living room, but Rhodes could understand why Ella might not want to go in there to talk. Or to do anything. She might not want to go in there for a long time, or ever again.

When they walked into the kitchen, Rhodes saw that the counters were lined with pies and cakes, along with bowls and casserole dishes covered with foil or plastic wrap. He smelled coffee.

“You want something to eat?” Ella said. “I got plenty.”

Rhodes wasn't sure if she was making a joke, so he said, “No, thanks. Just some talk.”

“Cup of coffee?”

“I don't drink it,” Rhodes said.

“You one of them Mormons?”

“No,” Rhodes said. “I just never learned to like it.”

“You mind if I have some, then?”

“Not a bit. You go right ahead.”

“You just sit at the table there, and I'll pour myself a cup,” Ella said.

Rhodes sat down and waited while she poured a cup of coffee from the carafe in the Mr. Coffee. She put sugar in the cup, stirred it with a tablespoon, and sat across from Rhodes.

“You said you wanted to ask me something?”

“It's about Frances Bennett. Did you stay with her last night?”

Ella took a sip of the coffee. “No, I didn't. She's got other friends, and I didn't feel like it, not with Burt and all.”

“You were with her the night Burt was killed, though.”

“Yes, I was helping her that night. I thought I already told you that.”

“You did, and I called her, just to be sure.”

“I don't blame you. You're the sheriff. It's your job to do things like that.”

“Sometimes I don't like the things I have to do,” Rhodes said. “Like now.”

Ella drank some more coffee, then said, “You don't like talking to me?”

“It's not the talking I don't like,” Rhodes said. “It's the questions I have to ask.”

“I don't mind,” Ella said.

Rhodes thought she was going to mind a lot when he got started on the really important ones.

“Before I say any more, I'd better tell you what your rights are,” he said. “I want to be sure you understand them.”

“I don't know what you're saying.”

“I'm saying you have the right to remain silent,” Rhodes told her, and then he went through the rest of the Miranda warning. “Do you understand all that?”

“I understand it, but I don't know why you're telling me. I hope you don't think I killed Burt.”

“I don't think that. This is about something else.”

“I don't know what it could be.”

“Maybe it's nothing at all,” Rhodes said. “Just let me ask the questions, and you can answer them. If we don't get anywhere, we'll just forget I ever started.”

“That sounds all right to me.”

“You left Frances's house a little early the night Burt was killed, didn't you,” Rhodes said.

Ella's eyes narrowed just a little. Rhodes had questioned a lot of people. The eyes nearly always told him as much as their words.

“I don't think so. I came home about the usual time, and Burt … Burt was dead when I got here.”