“I can do that tonight,” Ruth said.
Cox and Malvin weren’t too happy, but they had to be satisfied. It was the best they could do until either they had some solid evidence or they got hold of Rapper. They drove Rhodes back to the jail and dropped him off.
Lawton and Hack were having a laugh when Rhodes came inside, but they stifled it long enough to say that Dr. Sam White had called. Cullens had died just about exactly as Malvin had described it-several blows from a blunt instrument, probably the axe handle. The blow that had killed him was a particularly strong one to the back of the head.
“I don’t guess you two were laughing at a man being killed like that,” Rhodes said.
“You know us better than that, Sheriff,” Lawton said. He looked a little disappointed that the thought would ever have crossed Rhodes’s mind. “It was something else entirely.”
“I see,” Rhodes said, and waited. He knew that he was being set up again, and that it would be Hack’s job to finish the story. “What’s happened?”
“Old Lady Laughlin’s been arrested,” Hack said.
Rhodes looked at both men sternly. There was such a thing as carrying a joke too far. “In the first place,” he said, “ ‘Old Lady Laughlin’ isn’t as old as either one of you.”
Neither man looked ashamed. “Don’t matter,” Hack said. “That’s what ever’body calls her.”
“You’re talking about the president of the historical society, one of the best schoolteachers this town’s ever had, right?” Rhodes said.
“That’s the one,” Lawton said.
“The woman my daughter thought was about the only saving grace of the Clearview Independent School District?”
“You got it,” Lawton said.
“I just don’t believe it,” Rhodes said. “What’s the charge?”
“Squeezin’ the Charmin,” Hack said. Both he and Lawton broke into laughter.
Rhodes just looked at them until they stopped. “I can’t believe this,” he said. “Have you two been sniffing glue?”
Hack tried to look serious. “Swear to God, Sheriff. It’s the truth.” He put his hand over his heart.
“Squeezing the Charmin?”
“Over to the Safeway,” Lawton said helpfully.
“The manager called it in,” Hack said. “He caught ‘er in the act. I sent Buddy right on over. He’s the one wrote the ticket. Ask him if you don’t believe me.” He crossed his arms and looked righteous.
“All right, I guess I believe you. But there must be more to it than that,” Rhodes said.
“Nope,” Hack said. “That’s it. . well, that’s most of it.”
“I thought so,” Rhodes said. “Let’s have all of it.”
“Well, the manager saw her. She was squeezin’ the Charmin, just like I said. Or at least that’s what it looked like she was doin’ at first. Now that’s all right, the manager said. They see those ads on the TV and they just can’t resist. Nothin’ like a little advertisin’ to get folks’ attention. But then she just kept it up. Seemed like she was really gettin’ into it. When she finally stopped, he went to check it out. Seems like she’d ripped the label off the package, needed it for some kind of mail-in refund or somethin’. He figured that was theft. She was still in the store when Buddy got there.”
“He didn’t write her a ticket for theft,” Rhodes said. “I guess he has a little sense.”
“Nope,” Hack said. “I mean ‘nope’ he didn’t write her a ticket for theft, not that he doesn’t have a little sense. He gave her a ticket for criminal mischief. Maybe he threw in a little trespassin’. I’m not sure about that one. Anyway, the manager don’t want her back in there, least not for a while.”
Rhodes wasn’t really surprised. People would do strange things to save a dollar, or even less. He was sorry that it had to be Mrs. Laughlin, though, and he knew that although the incident was funny to Lawton and Hack, it wasn’t funny to her. It was very probably the worst thing she’d ever done in her life. She would pay her fine and worry about it for years. Meanwhile, Rapper and Nellie were out scot-free. Some days really got a man down, and it looked as if this was going to be one of those days.
Rhodes told Hack to take care of things, got in his pickup, and went home for lunch.
Chapter 15
Rhodes thought that his house had never seemed quite so empty. It was one of those times when he almost wished that Ralph Claymore had won the primary election, one of those times when being sheriff seemed to be a job that someone else could do better.
It wasn’t just the empty house-Rhodes had gotten nearly used to that, though that was probably part of it. It was mainly the fact that he couldn’t quite get a handle on what was happening. Rapper had gotten away from him twice, and unless Jayse talked, the chances for finding Rapper again looked dim. There was a chance that Ruth Grady’s contact would get Rapper the word that Jayse had talked and thus smoke Rapper out, but Rhodes couldn’t count on that.
To top it all off, there wasn’t even any bologna for a sandwich. Rhodes wondered briefly just how many bologna sandwiches he’d eaten since Claire’s death, but it wasn’t something that he wanted to think about for too long. He wondered if Ivy liked bologna. He needed to talk to her, having failed to call her last night. After his tussle with Rapper, he hadn’t felt like talking to anyone.
At least he had something for Speedo to eat. He went outside and got the sack of Ol’ Roy out of the pickup and carried it into the back yard. Speedo was there, sleeping in the shade of a native pecan tree. He heard the crackling of the dog food sack, or maybe Rhodes’s footsteps, and raised his head.
Rhodes put down the sack and went into the house to look for a bowl. He found an old Tupperware salad bowl in one of the cabinets and brought it out. Then he ripped the top off the bag of dog food. Speedo’s ears perked up at the ripping sound. He got to his feet, shook himself, and trotted over to Rhodes.
Rhodes poured some of the food into the bowl. He had intended to carry it over to the shade, but Speedo immediately poked his nose in and started eating. Rhodes set the dog food bag in the garage and rummaged around until he found an old watering dish. He filled it at a faucet and set it by the food. Speedo stopped eating and slurped the water noisily.
“Sorry I forgot about the water,” Rhodes said. “It’s been a while since I had a dog.”
Speedo didn’t seem to mind. He finished drinking, then turned back to the food. Rhodes stood watching him eat. The day had gotten hot, and Rhodes could feel the heat soaking through his clothes. A droplet of sweat ran down his ribs.
“You had the right idea, staying in the shade,” he said to the dog. “You go on and eat. I’m going back in.”
Talking to Speedo had cheered Rhodes up some, but not enough. He didn’t even feel like watching the Million Dollar Movie, a Hammer gem called Prehistoric Women. Any other day he would have watched it with amazement, but he had too much on his mind to be amazed or amused by an inept movie.
Who killed Bert Ramsey? Rapper? Why? The crop hadn’t been harvested, and Ramsey was growing more all the time. To kill him was to cut off the source. Cullens? Surely not. A government agent wanted information, not a man’s death. Wyneva Greer? She hadn’t even been living with Ramsey for months. Yet Rhodes felt that they were all somehow involved.
As for Cullens, Rapper could easily have tortured him for information and killed him either by accident or design. Or he could have watched cheerfully while one of the others tortured him. Rapper was that kind of man. The best thing that Rhodes could say for Rapper was that he’d never seen either Rapper or one of the others with a gun.
And that was another thing that really bothered Rhodes. He hadn’t found his own pistol the night before, and neither had anyone else. Rhodes had another pistol, and he was wearing it, but now he was pretty sure that Rapper had a pistol, too. That didn’t cheer Rhodes up at all.