Survivors Will Be Shot Again (7 page)

The big barn door was closed, but there was a regular-sized door next to it. That one was open, and Joyce went through it, the dogs at her heels. Rhodes was only a short way behind them. The inside of the barn wasn't entirely dark, thanks to a few holes in the roof. It was much bigger and airier than Billy's older one. The dogs would be comfortable enough there for a day or so. Joyce poured some dog food into a big pan that sat near another empty pan and a galvanized bucket. Rhodes picked up the bucket and said he'd get the water.

It had been a long time since Rhodes had drawn water from a well. He pitched the bucket into the well and the rope followed it down. When he heard a splash, Rhodes waited a while for the bucket to fill, then hauled it back up, the pulley squeaking a little. It could've used some oil. The bucket reached the top, and Rhodes swung it over the side of the well so he could pour the water into the bucket he'd brought from the barn.

Off to the left the roof of a storm cellar stood about a foot off the ground. Not many people in the county had a storm cellar, but Rhodes knew of four or five others. A tornado had passed through a corner of the county about thirty years ago, and the cellars had all been dug about that time.

Gus-Gus and Jackie were still waiting when he returned to the barn. He poured the water from the bucket into the pan, and both dogs turned to drink.

“Was Melvin afraid of storms?” Rhodes asked Joyce.

“No, he wasn't afraid of much of anything. The cellar was here when we moved in. I've never even been down in it. It has water in the bottom, Melvin says, about six inches, and there are spiders down there. I don't like spiders. Melvin says you never know if a snake might be down there, too. I'd rather face a tornado than a snake.”

Rhodes hoped he'd never have to make that choice, but he was pretty sure he'd pick the snake.

“Will the dogs mind being shut in the barn?” he asked, setting the bucket down.

“We put them in here all the time,” Joyce said. “They sleep on those raggedy old blankets over there. They don't mind it as long as they get outside once or twice a day.”

“Is this where Melvin kept his welding rig?”

“Yes, but it got stolen. We should've gotten a lock for the doors, but we thought people were honest.”

Rhodes wasn't sure anybody really thought that anymore.

“We have locks now,” Joyce said. “Melvin said we had to get them.”

“A good idea,” Rhodes said.

“I'll take the food to the house,” Joyce said. “I'll put it inside the back door. I'll have to give you a key if you come back to feed the boys. I can come back myself if it's too much trouble for you.”

“I don't mind doing it,” Rhodes said. “I'd like your permission to look through the house, too. Maybe it would help in the investigation.”

“All right, if it will help. I still can't believe Melvin's … dead.”

“It takes some getting used to.”

“I'm not going to get used to it. You'll find out who did it, won't you?”

“I'll do my best,” Rhodes said.

 

Chapter 6

On their ride to town, Rhodes asked Joyce a few questions about Melvin, hoping to get some useful information. He didn't get much, but he did find out that Melvin's best friend was Riley Farmer and that when Melvin went off on a binge, it was Riley he usually went with. Joyce insisted that Melvin hadn't been on a bender in a long time.

“He's been feeling better about things,” she said. “Even when the welding rig was stolen, he didn't go off and get drunk.”

She didn't have any explanation for why Melvin's bad habit had improved, but she was happy that it had. Rhodes also learned that Melvin had no enemies, at least as far as Joyce knew. No surprise there. Murder victims were always beloved by everyone, to hear their family and friends tell it.

“No enemies at all?” Rhodes said.

“Not a one,” Joyce said. “Unless you count Billy Bacon. He wasn't an enemy or anything like that, but those two just didn't get along.”

Billy hadn't mentioned that little tidbit.

“What was their trouble?” Rhodes asked.

“Melvin got turned down for a loan. He really needed the money at the time. We were gonna fix up the house, get the place looking better. Billy said no, said that Melvin didn't have any collateral. Or a job except what he could get fixing things up or welding a little now and then.”

Rhodes could see how Billy would think that way. As a loan officer, he had to be sure about the risk he was taking.

“Did Melvin ever try to get back at Billy?” Rhodes asked.

“If you're thinking that Melvin would steal, you'd be wrong. Melvin was as honest as the day is long.”

“I'm sure he was,” Rhodes said, though he didn't necessarily believe it. Whoever had kicked down the well at Billy's place could have done it because of a grudge rather than from just pure meanness.

“Anyway,” Joyce said with a catch in her voice, “things were getting a little better. We got the insurance from the welding rig, and that helped some. Money wasn't so tight. Maybe that's why Melvin wasn't drinking.”

The fact that their finances had improved wouldn't matter if Melvin was the type to hold a grudge. “And Billy was the only one he had a problem with?”

“Well, there's Gene Gunnison.”

Gunnison lived just off another of the county roads not far away. Rhodes knew of him but had never met him. His house was back in the woods, and he was considered by some to be a kind of outlaw who hunted and fished on the property of others without bothering to ask permission. There had been a few calls to the department about him, and Rhodes had sent a deputy to check things out each time, but no solid evidence of his trespassing had ever turned up. Supposedly his grandfather had been a bootlegger who'd sold illegal whiskey and avoided capture for years before winding up in prison.

“What was Melvin's problem with Gunnison?” Rhodes asked.

“Melvin thought Gene was sneaking around the property. He thought he might've been the one that stole the welding rig.”

Rhodes had been wondering about that theft. Something wasn't right about it.

“How could anybody get by the dogs?” he asked.

“The boys knew Gene. He used to visit now and then, back when we first got them. He'd bring treats for them. Melvin says he was probably just getting friendly with them instead of us, just waiting for his chance to steal something.”

“Do you think he stole the rig?”

“I don't know. Anyway, he and Melvin patched it up, I guess. They get along all right now. I hear it's the Terrells that are stealing things. That's what Melvin told me.”

“Everybody's heard that,” Rhodes said. “That doesn't mean it's true.”

“It doesn't mean it's not true, either.”

Rhodes had to give her that point. “So Melvin had a problem with Able Terrell, too.”

“I wouldn't call it a problem. He just didn't hardly ever see him. Nobody does 'less he wants 'em to, and he doesn't want 'em to. He knew Able before he moved into that compound of his. Didn't like him much then, and never changed his mind.”

It was true that nobody ever saw Able Terrell unless he wanted them to, which would make it hard for Rhodes to talk to him. It had to be done, though. Later.

“What about a gun?” Rhodes asked. “Did Melvin have one?”

“He had a deer rifle and a shotgun,” Joyce said. “They're in a rifle cabinet in our bedroom. I saw them when I was packing.”

“What about a pistol?”

“He had one. It's in the bottom of the rifle cabinet.”

“Did you see it when you were in the bedroom?”

“No. It's in the bottom. There are doors on that part.”

Rhodes wondered if Melvin had left it there or if he'd had it with him. He'd check when he went back to the house. For now, that was all the questions he had.

*   *   *

Rhodes dropped Joyce off at her sister's house. By that time the fact of Melvin's death had begun to sink in, and she was sobbing quietly. Rhodes told the Smallses a little about the situation and left them to give Joyce what comfort they could. It wouldn't be much, not in her position.

Rhodes drove to the jail. It was late afternoon, and his day off hadn't gone at all the way he'd planned. Instead of relaxing, he'd averted a robbery and started a murder investigation. Now he just wanted to write up his report and get something to eat. It wasn't going to be that easy, however. As he walked in the door, Hack started in on him.

“You been gone awhile,” Hack said.

“Trouble at the Billy Bacon place,” Rhodes said.

“Trouble is right, but nobody told me about it. Nobody ever tells me anything.” Hack paused and shook his head. “That's all right, though. I'm just the dispatcher. I'm like the furniture. Don't matter if I know what's going on or not.”

“I tell you everything,” Rhodes said. “Eventually.”

He didn't add that
eventually
was how Hack and Lawton told him things. Hack was no doubt well aware of that. Rhodes had the sign from the post and other things that he'd taken from Billy Bacon's ranch. He took them into the evidence locker and filled out the forms. He came out and sat at his computer.

“No, sir, you don't tell me everything,” Hack said, picking up as if there had been no interruption. “You still haven't told me what happened out there at Billy Bacon's place. That's all right, though. You don't have to tell me. I got ways of findin' out what's goin' on. I got my sources.”

Rhodes ignored him, put on his reading glasses, and started working on the report.

“See, you don't give a rip about me and whether I'm in the loop or not. Me and Lawton do all the work around here, but we don't get any respect. It's a shame, is what it is.”

Rhodes turned in his chair. “You get a lot of respect, and you already know what happened. So I don't really need to tell you, do I?”

“You don't even care who my sources are.”

“I'm just guessing here, but I'd say that Deputy Grady finished up at the crime scene and came by here a little while ago. Did she have anything for you to tell me?”

“Not a thing except she didn't find any clues.”

Rhodes hadn't expected her to. It had been his experience that clues didn't turn up as often in Blacklin County as they did on TV.

“Then she went to check on Oscar Campbell,” Hack said.

Oscar was a regular caller to the department. “Naked people coming through his windows again?”

“Third time this year. They like this warm weather.”

“How many this time?”

“He said three, same as usual.”

“What did he want Ruth to do about it?”

“Chase 'em out of the house. You know that.”

Oscar Campbell was in most respects a normal guy, friendly to his neighbors, able to function quite well in what passed for society in Clearview. He just had one little quirk. He didn't see dead people; he saw naked people, and they were coming through his windows. He'd call the sheriff's department about the problem now and then, and once the deputy who responded to the call had checked the house and assured him that the naked people were gone, he'd be just fine until the next time.

“I'm sure Deputy Grady will do a good job of clearing out the house,” Rhodes said. “Now I need to finish this report.”

“Ruth has herself a new idea for those naked people,” Hack said. “Just been waitin' for Oscar to call.”

Rhodes did a bit of the report, waiting for Hack to continue and knowing he wouldn't. Rhodes kept on working until he was about half through before he gave in.

“What new idea?” he asked.

“Made it up herself,” Hack said. “More or less. She told me Seepy helped out.”

If Seepy Benton was in on the new idea, Rhodes wasn't sure he wanted to hear about it.

“Is it legal?”

“Bound to be. I figger it'll work, too. Seepy's a professional.”

“A professional what?”

“Ghost hunter. You know that.”

Rhodes took off his glasses, closed his eyes, and squeezed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “What do imaginary naked people have to do with ghosts?”

“Not a thing,” Hack said.

Rhodes put his glasses back on and leaned back in his chair. “Hack, just tell the story.”

“You're mighty impatient lately.”

“I have a murder investigation to work on. That makes me impatient. Tell the story.”

“All right, if you're gonna be that way about it. See, Seepy got the idea from an ad he saw for some ghost repellent. He thought it might be something he could offer his customers.”

“He's not working the ghost-hunting job right now,” Rhodes said.

“Nope, but he's always thinking. You know how he is. That mind of his is workin' all the time.”

Rhodes knew. “Does ghost repellent work?”

“Don't matter if it does or not, according to Seepy. As long as somebody believes in it, that's as good as if it works.”

Rhodes was beginning to catch on. Seepy had solved a similar problem once before. “So Seepy made some kind of repellent?”

“Nudist repellent,” Hack said. “Got him a big spray bottle at Walmart's and printed up a label. Ruth showed it to me. Looks real professional, like it's the real thing. She's gonna spray some of the stuff around all the windows at Oscar's house and leave the bottle with him. She figgers that'll solve the problem.”

“What's in the bottle? Water?”

“Water that Seepy fixed up with some colorin' and odor. Smells pretty good.”

Rhodes thought it might work. It would depend on Oscar. He turned his chair back to the computer and said, “I need to get this report done.”