Survivors Will Be Shot Again (30 page)

BOOK: Survivors Will Be Shot Again
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“I got into a little tussle in a creek,” he said. “Is Billy here?”

“He just got in from work, and he's having some iced tea. Do you need to talk to him?”

“Yes, I do.”

Nadine gave Rhodes a dubious look. “Why don't you go on around the house to the patio. We have a table and chairs back there, and it's a good place to talk.”

“Good idea,” Rhodes said. Nadine and Billy weren't going to be happy with what he had to say, and he didn't want to add ruining their indoor furniture into the bargain. “I'll meet you two back there.”

“You want to talk to me, too?”

“Yes, both of you.”

“All right. You go on back, and I'll get Billy. Would you like some tea?”

“No thanks,” Rhodes said, and started around the house.

The lawn looked so good that Rhodes almost hated to walk on it, but he did. The concrete patio was covered with a metal roof, and a glass-topped table sat in the middle of it. Four white metal chairs with a lot of scrollwork stood at the table. Rhodes pulled one back. It was heavier than he'd expected. He sat down and waited.

In a minute or so, the sliding glass door from the house opened, and Billy and Nadine came out. Billy was holding his glass of tea in one hand. The glass was beaded with moisture.

“You look like you've had a bad day, Sheriff,” Billy said.

“You should see the other guy,” Rhodes said.

Billy set his tea on the table and held a chair for Nadine. When she was seated, Billy sat down, too. “Nadine says you wanted to talk to me.”

“That's right,” Rhodes said. “Both of you. First thing, I want to tell you that we have Gene Gunnison in custody. I believe he killed Melvin Hunt and Riley Farmer.”

Billy had been about to pick up his glass of tea. Instead, he nearly knocked it over. He grabbed it with both hands to steady it and looked at Rhodes.

“Gene Gunnison?”

“That's right. The man who was growing marijuana on your place.”

“Really? And a killer, too? It's a good thing you caught up with him.”

“It is,” Rhodes said, “but that's not the end of the story.”

“It's not?” Billy said.

He reached for his tea and picked up the glass, but his hand was still shaky enough to rattle the ice cubes against the side.

“No, it's not the end,” Rhodes said. “I think you knew all along that Gunnison was growing the marijuana. You claimed you never went down to the creek, but you'd worn a path down there with your truck. I noticed that there were no weeds growing in the tracks you made. Now, I don't know if you allowed Gunnison to grow his crop there or if you asked him to do it, but you knew about it.”

“I don't know why you think that,” Billy said, “because it's not true.”

“Oh, it's true, all right. I'm not saying I blame you. I understand that Nadine's been doing a little better lately. Right, Nadine?”

Nadine looked at Billy, who looked away.

“I'm doing better, I guess,” she said.

“Breaking away from the benzos isn't easy,” Rhodes said. “Some people say that cannabis can be a help.”

“I … don't know.”

“I do.” Rhodes looked at Billy. “I have a good source of information. Cannabis can help a man who's under a lot of stress, too. More than iced tea can, and it might even relieve the pain from an old football injury for a little while.”

“Did Gunnison tell you I knew about the marijuana?” Billy asked.

“He's not in any condition to talk,” Rhodes said. “He was the other guy.”

“I see.” Billy set his tea back on the table. “Is he dead?”

“No, not dead. Just a little torn up from his run-in with the alligator that he had guarding your cannabis patch.”

“It's not mine,” Billy said.

“It was yours and Gunnison's. Gunnison shot two men to keep it quiet. He would've shot you by now if you weren't involved already.”

Billy relaxed a bit and leaned back in his chair. “It sounds to me as if you don't have any proof of anything you're saying.”

“That's true,” Rhodes said, “but when Gunnison's able to talk, he's going to implicate you. I just wanted to warn you.”

That wasn't true. Rhodes had hoped he might goad Billy into a confession, but Billy wasn't having any of it.

“I thought from the start that you might have been the one who cut the lock on your gate,” Rhodes said. “Nobody had come there that day in a vehicle, but you didn't want me to know that, so you had to do something to make it look like someone had. You hoped that would keep me from checking down in the bottom.”

“That's not true,” Billy said.

“Don't think I'm not sympathetic to your situation,” Rhodes said, ignoring him. “I am, but growing marijuana is still illegal in this state. Even worse is failure to report a crime. The good news is that you didn't try to conceal it. Did Gunnison call you to let you know what he'd done, or did he just leave Melvin's body there for you to find?”

“I'm not going to talk about this anymore,” Billy said. He stood up. “Come on, Nadine. We don't have to talk to the sheriff if we don't want to unless we're under arrest.”

“Are we under arrest?” Nadine asked, looking first at Rhodes and then at her husband.

“No,” Rhodes said. “You're not.”

“Then we're going inside,” Billy said. “You're welcome to sit out here and enjoy the evening if you want to, though, Sheriff.”

Rhodes stood up. “No, thanks. I think I'll just go on home.”

*   *   *

Rhodes didn't care that Billy hadn't confessed. It had been a long shot, but it had been worth a try. Even if Gunnison didn't implicate him, Billy was on notice. Rhodes was sure that all the puzzle pieces were in place now and that the picture was complete, or as nearly complete as it was likely to be. Gunnison might fill in some of the blanks. Will Smalls might fill in some of the others after he talked to his lawyer. Maybe even Billy would after he'd had time to think things over, but that was all in the future. For now Rhodes was satisfied.

When he got home he went in through the back door. Yancey ran to greet him but backed off almost immediately.

“What's the matter?” Rhodes said. “You never saw a creek monster before?”

Yancey came up to sniff at the cuffs of Rhodes's pants. While he was doing that, Ivy came into the kitchen.

“Oh, my,” she said. “It's the Legend of Boggy Creek.”

“I saw that movie on TV,” Rhodes said. “The legend's about a monster, not a sheriff.”

“I should've said the Legend of Crockett's Creek,” Ivy said. “The sheriff is the legend this time, but beating the monster. You're about the biggest thing on the Internet since Kim Kardashian.”

“Who?”

“Don't try to kid me,” Ivy said. “You know who she is.”

“Barely,” Rhodes said.

“Doesn't matter. You're a true hero in the Tarzan style, fighting a crocodile barehanded and saving a man's life.”

“It was an alligator,” Rhodes said, knowing for sure that Buddy had given Jennifer Loam the story.

“That doesn't matter, either. The headline is ‘The Crocodile Fighter of Crockett's Creek.' I like the alliteration.”

“Clickbait,” Rhodes said.

“See? You know more about the Internet than you pretend.”

Rhodes decided not to mention that he'd never heard the word until yesterday.

“I wish those stories would stop,” Rhodes said. Yancey started to growl and bite at one of his pants legs. “Stop that, Yancey.”

Yancey stopped and went to sit under the table, looking sad-eyed.

“If you want the stories to stop,” Ivy said, “you'll have to stop being so heroic.”

“I don't feel heroic,” Rhodes said. “I feel like I fought an alligator.”

“At least you won.”

“I don't feel like I won.”

“I know what you need,” Ivy said. “You need a day off.”

Rhodes thought about his most recent attempt to take some time off and all that had happened. He laughed out loud.

“You know what I think?” he said.

“No. What?” Ivy asked.

“A day off is the last thing I need,” Rhodes said.

 

A
LSO BY
B
ILL
C
RIDER

SHERIFF DAN RHODES MYSTERIES

Between the Living and the Dead

Half in Love with Artful Death

Compound Murder

Murder of a Beauty Shop Queen

The Wild Hog Murders

Murder in the Air

Murder in Four Parts

Of All Sad Words

Murder Among the OWLS

A Mammoth Murder

Red, White, and Blue Murder

A Romantic Way to Die

A Ghost of a Chance

Death by Accident

Winning Can Be Murder

Murder Most Fowl

Booked for a Hanging

Evil at the Root

Death on the Move

Cursed to Death

Shotgun Saturday Night

Too Late to Die

 

PROFESSOR SALLY GOOD MYSTERIES

A Bond with Death

Murder Is an Art

A Knife in the Back

 

PROFESSOR CARL BURNS MYSTERIES

 … A Dangerous Thing

Dying Voices

One Dead Dean

 

About the Author

B
ILL
C
RIDER
is an Anthony Award winner. His short story “Cranked,” which appeared in
Damn Near Dead,
was a finalist for an Edgar Award. Crider served for many years as chair of the Division of English and Fine Arts at Alvin Community College. He lives in Texas. You can sign up for email updates
here
.

 

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Contents

Title Page

Copyright Notice

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

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