Murder of a Beauty Shop Queen (22 page)

Al wasn't so lucky, or so agile. When he tried to edge between the tractors, he stumbled and slipped. He fell against a tractor tire, bounced, and hit the ground. Before he could get up, Rhodes was right there with him.

Al wrapped his arms around Rhodes's legs and jerked. Rhodes fell backward, grabbing at the tractor to break his fall. He still hit the ground hard, and most of the air in his lungs whuffed out.

Al slid between the tractors. Rhodes stuck out a foot and tripped him.

Struggling to get his breath, Rhodes rose to his knees and lunged forward, managing to get hold of Al's foot. Al kicked at Rhodes's hand with the other foot, but Rhodes held on.

Al continued to kick, stirring up the dirt. Rhodes tasted grit and smelled dust. He sneezed and then pulled himself forward and got his other hand on the foot.

Al snorted like a bull and stopped kicking. He sat up and twisted around. Rhodes couldn't see very well from where he lay, thanks to the dust in his eyes, but he could see well enough to tell that Al had something in his hand, something heavy and hard, maybe a short length of pipe. That couldn't be good.

Al started to swing whatever it was at Rhodes, but Rhodes didn't let go of the foot.

Al didn't complete the swing, either, because Buddy said, “You better drop that pipe, punk, being as I'm holding a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world, which if I pulled the trigger would blow your head clean off.”

Buddy had been watching
Dirty Harry
again. Maybe Al had seen the movie, or maybe not, but he dropped his piece of pipe. Rhodes let go of his foot, stood up, and brushed himself off.

As he did, Jennifer Loam snapped his picture.

“Where did you come from?” Rhodes asked.

“I just happened to be passing by.”

“I'll bet.”

“When you said you were going to check things out, I thought I'd see what you were up to. So I just happened to be passing by.” Jennifer gave Buddy an admiring glance. “I got here just in time. This is going to be the best possible break for me and my Web site.”

“I can see how that might be. By the way, that's a .38 Buddy's pointing at my friend Al, not a .44 Magnum.”

Buddy grinned. “I know it, Sheriff, but .44 Magnum sounds a lot better.”

“You have a point,” Rhodes said.

Al was cowering on the ground between the tractors. The caliber of the pistol didn't seem to make any difference to him.

“Come on out of there, Al,” Rhodes said.

Al crawled out from between the tractors. Buddy kept the .38 pointed at him, and Jennifer snapped more pictures.

“Stand up and put your hands behind you,” Rhodes said.

Al stood up, but instead of putting his hands behind him, he dodged to the side so that Rhodes was between him and Buddy. Then he swung his big right fist at Rhodes's head.

Rhodes blocked the punch with his forearm and sent a short jab into Al's stomach, which wasn't as hard as Rhodes thought it would be. Or maybe Al just hadn't had time to prepare himself. At any rate Rhodes's fist sank a few inches into the stomach, and Al stumbled back until he hit the tractor, where he stood trying to suck some air.

“This is great, just great,” Jennifer said. “I wish I'd put on the video setting, Sheriff. You'd be all over YouTube.”

“It'd be like the screen test for the Sage Barton movie,” Buddy said. “Have you read the Sage Barton books?”

“They're a lot of fun,” Jennifer said. “Sage is a great character.”

“Just like the sheriff here,” Buddy said.

“In case you two have forgotten,” Rhodes said, “I have an arrest to make. Turn around, Al, and put your hands behind you.”

Al, still gasping, did as he was told, and Rhodes cuffed him. Buddy holstered his pistol. Jennifer took even more pictures.

“You won't be getting out of jail quite so soon this time,” Rhodes told Al.

“Yeah,” Al said.

They walked back to the office, where Mike was seated behind the desk. He was bent over and cuffed to the leg of the desk. Jennifer took a picture. Rhodes looked at Buddy.

“When I heard all the noise outside,” Buddy said, “I thought I'd better see what was going on.”

“I appreciate the help,” Rhodes said.

“You're welcome,” Buddy said. He gestured at Mike. “I couldn't just leave him here.”

“I guess not,” Rhodes said. “You can let him go now, though.”

“We're not going to arrest him?”

“Can you think of a reason?”

“Harboring fugitives?”

“They were out on bail,” Rhodes said.

“Suspicion of running a theft ring?”

“That's a good one,” Rhodes said. “It might even stick. Let's haul him in.”

Mike and Al didn't say anything at all. Buddy uncuffed Mike, then cuffed his hands behind him.

“Ready?” Rhodes asked.

Buddy nodded, and they took their prisoners outside, put them in the county cars while Jennifer photographed them, and took them to the jail.

*   *   *

“What about those other fellas?” Buddy asked Rhodes after Mike and Al had been booked and printed. “You know they must've been working with those two, stealing things for them and such.”

“We suspect, but we don't know,” Rhodes said. “We'll keep looking for them, but surely this time they won't come back.”

“They seem to like it here,” Hack said. “Blacklin County must be like home to 'em now.”

“Here's what I think,” Rhodes said. “I think Buddy's right. They were part of a theft ring, and they thought Al, or whoever really runs the reclamation center, would take care of them. It's different now. We've pretty much put them out of business, and they don't have any support. They aren't likely to stick around any longer. If they do, though, we'll arrest them the next time we see them.”

“So they're not involved with the murders?”

“I don't think so,” Rhodes said. “The purse is a connection, and the fact that a couple of them were squatting across from the Beauty Shack is a connection, but that's all we have. It's not enough to convince me. I think the thefts are all they've been up to.”

“You want me to put out an APB anyway?” Hack asked.

“Good idea. Maybe we'll get lucky.”

Rhodes smiled, thinking of Buddy's Clint Eastwood impersonation.

“What's so funny?” Hack asked.

“Nothing,” Rhodes said.

*   *   *

Rhodes got home barely in time to give Speedo and Yancey a little exercise in the backyard before dark. After they'd romped for a while, Rhodes and Yancey went back inside.

“You're walking funny,” Ivy said when he came into the kitchen.

“You think so?” Rhodes asked. “I've been thinking I might give up sheriffing and try stand-up comedy.”

“Not that kind of funny. You know what I mean.”

“I had a little tussle this afternoon. I might be a little stiff.”

Rhodes was sore, too. Rolling around on the ground didn't agree with him.

“Are you all right?” Ivy asked.

“I'm fine. Ready for anything.”

“I didn't cook tonight. I thought we could go out. Is that okay?”

It sounded good to Rhodes. It meant no vegetarian chili.

“How about Max's place,” he said.

Max was Max Schwartz, who'd moved to Clearview and opened a music store and a barbecue restaurant. The restaurant had been successful, and the music store had closed.

“That sounds all right,” Ivy said.

“Wait a second,” Rhodes said. “Tonight's Friday night.”

“So?”

“So it might be a live music night at Max's Place. Seepy Benton might be singing. If you can call what he does singing.”

“I like his singing,” Ivy said. “Your deputy does, too.”

“Ruth is…”

Rhodes stopped. He'd been about to say
mistaken,
but that might have led to a discussion of Ivy's own musical taste, and Rhodes didn't want to get into that. It was a losing proposition.

“Go on,” Ivy said. “Finish the sentence.”

“I was going to say Ruth likes him.”

“I'll bet you were. Anyway, I like him, too. Shall we go?”

Rhodes was willing to put up with even Seepy's vocalizing as long as he didn't have to eat vegetarian chili again, so he said, “Race you to the car.”

Chapter 22

Rhodes liked the way Max's Place smelled. The odor of smoked meat mingled with the odor of freshly cooked cobbler, and while Rhodes knew he wouldn't eat any of the cobbler, he could at least think about it.

Max Schwartz had been involved in a couple of Rhodes's investigations and had gotten to know the sheriff well enough to seat him far away from the tiny stage in the rear of the restaurant when Seepy Benton was performing. However, as Schwartz was leading Rhodes and Ivy to a table near the front, Rhodes spotted Ruth sitting with Benton near the stage.

“When's the next show?” Rhodes asked.

“In a few minutes,” Max said.

“We'll sit with Seepy, then,” Rhodes said.

“You sure about that?”

“I'm sure. I need to talk to him.”

“Most of my customers really like his singing.”

“There's no accounting for taste,” Rhodes said.

Max didn't say anything to that. He just led them to the table.

“Mind if we join you?” Rhodes asked.

“Not at all,” Seepy said, rising to his feet as Max pulled out Ivy's chair.

Ivy looked at Rhodes as if to say,
See what nice manners Seepy has?

Rhodes pretended he didn't notice the look. He said to Benton, “Are you performing tonight?”

“Yes,” Benton said. “I have a new math joke that I was just about to try out on Ruth. You got here just in time.”

No,
Rhodes thought,
I got here about three minutes too early.

“Here it is,” Benton said. “Why wouldn't the icosahedron go on a date with the dodecahedron?”

“That's a riddle,” Rhodes said because he couldn't think of anything else to say, “not a joke.”

“It's the punch line that makes the joke,” Benton said. “Are you ready for it?”

“As ready as I'll ever be,” Rhodes said. “Let me have it.”

“Because their relationship was strictly Platonic!” Benton said and started to chuckle.

Rhodes didn't chuckle. He looked at Ruth and Ivy. They weren't chuckling, either, which made him feel a little better.

“What's the matter?” Benton asked. “Too esoteric? A little too inside for nonmathematicians?”

“That's it,” Rhodes said. “Too inside.”

Benton looked thoughtful. “I guess I won't use it, then. Anyway, I have a new song I'm debuting tonight. I don't want to hit my fans with too much new material at once.”

Rhodes kept his mouth shut.

“The song's about Gandhi,” Ruth said. “I've already heard it, and it's great.”

“I'm sure it is,” Ivy said, taking a menu from Max.

Rhodes waved away the menu. “I already know what I want.”

“I'll send over a server,” Max said, taking Rhodes's menu and leaving the table.

“Isn't anybody else eating?” Rhodes asked.

“I'm waiting until after the performance,” Ruth said. “Seepy can't eat before he sings.”

“It affects my voice,” Benton said. “Not for the better.”

“Oh,” Rhodes said.

Ivy kicked him in the ankle as she studied the menu.

“How's our case going?” Benton asked. “Ruth tells me she hasn't been able to find out much by questioning the Beauty Shack customers.”

“It's not that nobody wants to talk,” Ruth said. “It's just that they don't seem to know much about Lynn. It's funny that she was talked about so much but nobody really knew her. The murder of Tyler complicates things a lot because the two just have to be connected some way or the other.”

“Who did Lynn and Tyler both know?” Benton asked. “Find their mutual friends and acquaintances, and you'll find the killer.”

“Seepy learned a lot of investigation skills in the academy,” Ruth said.

Rhodes couldn't think of anything to say to that, but he didn't have to. He was rescued by a young woman who informed them that her name was Myra and that she would be their server. As if they didn't know.

Rhodes ordered the three-meat plate, the one with barbecued ham, beef, and ribs. That was a lot of food, so he ordered the small plate instead of the large one, feeling quite virtuous about his restraint. Ivy decided she'd just go to the salad bar. Rhodes wasn't surprised. He made it a point to stand up when she left the table, but so did Benton, so Rhodes wasn't one up on him.

“The thing of it is,” Benton said as they sat back down, “people don't like the idea of a crazed killer walking the streets. They want to be able to sleep at night without having to worry about things like that. They want the killer brought to justice.”

“First of all,” Rhodes said, “we're not dealing with a crazed killer. We're looking for someone who acted in anger once and with deliberation once. I don't think there'll be any more killing.”

“Why not?” Benton asked.

“Because of what he just told us,” Ruth said. “The second killing was a result of the first one, but now it's over.”

“How do we know that?”

“Experience,” Rhodes said, “and it's the only thing that makes sense.”

“So the second murder was to cover up the first one?”

“That's the way I see it,” Rhodes said. “Tyler knew something that someone didn't want him to know. Now he can't tell anybody.”

“What if he'd already told somebody?”

Rhodes didn't want to get into that. If Tyler had told Lonnie, Lonnie might be in danger if the killer knew, and Rhodes's experience might be leading him to a wrong conclusion. On the other hand, Lonnie might
be
the killer. Rhodes was still trying to work that out.