by Bill Crider
“She would’ve been if she were making more money,” Abby said. “We all need more, I guess. I’m just lucky Eric has a good job. The way things are these days, it takes two incomes just to get by.”
“Lynn had … friends,” Rhodes said.
“I don’t think she ever took money from them,” Abby said. “Besides, I’m not so sure she had as many friends as people seemed to think. She never talked to me about any of them.”
Rhodes thought about that. Lonnie hadn’t been able to give him any names, either, and Lonnie was supposed to be Lynn’s best friend.
Rhodes talked to Abby a while longer, but she didn’t have anything useful to offer. Rhodes finally told her to call him if she thought of anything that might help.
“I sure will, Sheriff.” She walked him to the door. “You sure you can’t stay for supper?”
“I’m sure,” Rhodes said, “much as I’d like to.”
Before he got out the door, Jeremy came scuttling back into the room. He hid behind his mother and looked around her at Rhodes.
“’Bye, Jeremy,” Rhodes said.
Jeremy didn’t say a word.
* * *
It was getting dark, but Rhodes had one more stop to make. He wanted to look at Lynn’s house and see if there was anything there that might give him a clue to what had happened. He couldn’t do a thorough search, but he could at least check the most obvious things. He’d have Ruth do a complete job the next day.
Before he went to Lynn’s house, however, he stopped at Nora Fischer’s. She’d lived in Clearview all her life, and Rhodes had been in her American history class long ago. In fact, that was one of the classes in which he’d sat next to Sandra.
Nora came to the door, but before she opened it, she said, “Who’s there?”
“Sheriff Rhodes, Ms. Fischer.”
“That sounds like you, all right, Danny,” she said, and Rhodes felt almost as if he were back in the tenth grade again.
The door opened. Nora Fischer was a small woman, not over five four, but she had seemed formidable to Rhodes when he was in her class. He wondered if she’d shrunk. She still wore her gray hair in a bun on top of her head, and she peered at Rhodes through thick glasses.
“You’ve put on a little weight, Danny,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am, I expect I have,” Rhodes said.
“That’s good. You needed it. You were such a skinny young man.”
Rhodes didn’t know what to say to that, so he said nothing.
“You must be here about my neighbor,” Nora said.
“That’s right.”
“You come on in, then. I don’t know that I can help you, but I’ll be glad to try.”
Rhodes followed her into a living room that was furnished a bit like Lonnie’s, the difference being that in Nora’s case the furniture hadn’t come from thrift shops. It had all been there for fifty years. It was worn but not badly, and unlike Lonnie, Nora had a rocking chair. She went over to it and sat down.
Rhodes sat on the couch. He was afraid she might ask him to explain the Articles of Confederation or the Missouri Compromise or something along those lines, but she said, “Lynn was a good neighbor to me. She checked up on me now and then, and she didn’t make noise or have any barking dogs like some I could name.”
Rhodes was about to say he couldn’t do anything about barking dogs, but she didn’t give him a chance. She said, “She didn’t visit much, though. I like having a little company now and then.”
She gave Rhodes an accusing look.
“I’m sorry not to drop by more often,” he said, not that he’d ever dropped by. “I know Lonnie Wallace came by now and then.”
“He’s a sweet boy,” Nora said. “He and Lynn were good friends.”
“Yes,” Rhodes said. “They were. I was wondering about her other friends.”
“You don’t think that I pay any attention to the people who come and go in this neighborhood, do you?”
“Ms. Fischer, I remember how you were in history class. There wasn’t anything that went on that you didn’t see. You remember that time in history class when I tried to pass a note to Jennifer Stubbs?”
“I remember a lot of things, Danny, but I don’t remember that.”
“I was sitting in about the middle of the back row,” Rhodes said. “You were writing something on the blackboard, so your back was turned to the class. I didn’t think you could possibly see me. So I passed the note, and you said, ‘Danny Rhodes, do you want me to read that to the whole class?’ I thought you had eyes in the back of your head.”
Nora laughed a dry little laugh. “I don’t know how I did it, either. Maybe I just knew your character and took a wild guess that something was going on.”
Rhodes grinned. “Maybe.”
“Did I read the note to the class?”
“No, ma’am. You took it up and put it in the middle drawer of your desk. I appreciated that.”
“So you owe me a favor.”
“Maybe so, but I’m hoping you’ll do me one. Do you want to take any wild guesses about Lynn Ashton’s character?”
“That’s a different kind of thing from knowing you were passing a note.”
Nora rocked a little, and a calico cat wandered into the room. It looked at Rhodes with disdain and walked over to Nora, who stopped rocking. The cat jumped into her lap, settled down, and started to purr.
Rhodes sneezed. Ivy had told him many times that he wasn’t really allergic to cats, that he just thought he was. It didn’t really matter. They made him sneeze either way.
“This is Clementine,” Nora said, rubbing the cat.
“Hi, Clementine,” Rhodes said, but the cat didn’t bother to look at him again. The purring continued.
“Are you allergic to cats?” Nora asked.
“Maybe,” Rhodes said. “I’ve never been to a doctor to find out for sure.”
“I’m not,” Nora said. “Clementine keeps me company when I don’t have visitors.” She glanced at Rhodes. “And even when I do.”
“What about those wild guesses?” Rhodes asked, trying to get back to the topic at hand.
“You always were impatient, Danny,” Nora said. She rubbed the cat and changed the subject again. “Do you remember what this town used to be like?”
“When?”
“When you were young and could walk downtown at night without anybody worrying about what might happen to you. When there was a downtown. When people didn’t have to lock their doors, even at night. When you could accidentally leave your purse on a store counter and before long you’d get a call from the clerk to let you know where the purse was and that it was just fine. That’s when.”
“Times have changed, I guess,” Rhodes said.
“Not for the better if you ask me,” Nora said, “but nobody ever asks me. They don’t ask me because I’m old, and all old people feel that way about the changing of the world. I’m sure my parents did, and theirs before them.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Rhodes said, stifling another sneeze.
“You didn’t come here to listen to me rattle on, though, did you.”
“I wouldn’t call it rattling on.”
“Well, it is,” Nora said. “As for those wild guesses, I can’t make any. I do know that Lynn had a few men visitors, but I didn’t see anything wrong with that. I have one or two myself. Hers were older than mine.” She looked at Rhodes. “Mostly.”
“Did you know any of them?”
“One of them was a county commissioner, the one who has that flashy little car and wears those awful shirts.”
“Mikey Burns,” Rhodes said, smiling a little at her opinion of Burns’s wardrobe.
“That’s the one,” Nora said. “He was only there once or twice. I don’t really remember any of the others. They were better dressed than Mr. Burns, I can tell you that.”
“Were there many of them?”
“Hardly any. She wasn’t home a lot in the evenings. When I said a fe
w visitors, that’s what I meant. A few. At least, that I saw. I’m not one of those nosy old ladies who sit on the porch and watch the neighborhood comings and goings.”
“I never thought you were,” Rhodes said.
He was beginning to believe that Lynn’s reputation had been exaggerated and that for reasons of her own she might have encouraged that. Maybe she liked having people talk about her. Some people were like that.
Rhodes stood up. “Thanks for your help, Ms. Fischer. I appreciate it. If you think of anything else, call the department.”
“Does that Hack Jensen still work there?” she asked.
“He does.”
“You tell him I said hello.”
“I’ll do that,” Rhodes said. “I’ll let myself out. Don’t get up and disturb Clementine.”
Nora rubbed the cat. “You were impatient, but you were thoughtful, too, Danny. I’m glad you haven’t changed.”
Rhodes wasn’t sure whether he should thank her for that observation, but he did.
“I’ll be next door having a look at Lynn’s house,” he said. “Don’t call the department when you see the lights come on.”
“I probably won’t even notice,” Nora said.
Chapter 11
If this had been the old days that Nora Fischer had talked about, Rhodes could have gotten into Lynn Ashton’s house easily enough because the doors wouldn’t have been locked. Of course, that was then and this was now, and as Rhodes had already discovered earlier that day, he needed a key to get inside. He hoped that Lynn had been the kind of person who hid a key outside in case she locked herself out and that if she was that kind of person she had hidden the key in a place that would be easy for him to find.
He tried the garage first, but like the house, it was closed and locked. A key hidden inside it would do him no good. Rhodes looked around. The house had a small concrete entranceway with a flower bed on each side. There were no flowers, but there were a couple of rosebushes, one with red roses and one with yellow ones. A big rock lay beside the one with the yellow roses. It was the rock that Rhodes thought was his best bet.
It was easy to see that it was a real rock, not some hollowed-out fake. Rhodes picked it up and saw nothing under it but sandy dirt. He set the rock aside and pushed his fingers into the dirt. They encountered something hard, and he dug around until he’d uncovered a brown plastic box. He opened the box and found a key. He tried it in the front door. It fit, and so he opened the door, flipped a light switch on the wall just inside it, and went in.
The floor plan wasn’t much different from Nora’s, a small living room, a kitchen/den/eating area, two bedrooms, a bath and a half.
Rhodes figured that anything interesting would be in Lynn’s bedroom, so he went there first. He always felt like an intruder when he searched a room, and even more like one when he searched someone’s bedroom. It made no difference that the former occupant was dead and had no privacy left.
Rhodes didn’t know what he expected to find, but it would’ve been nice if he’d run across a photo of Lynn with someone special. Or a diary, or a phone message from someone threatening to kill her.
He didn’t find any of those things. The only photos he saw were of a younger Lynn and her parents. A book lay on a nightstand beside the bed, but it was a romance novel, not a diary. The drawers of the dresser held sweaters and underwear but nothing unusual. The jewelry box was full of costume jewelry. The closet held clothes, naturally enough, and shoes. Lots of shoes. Nothing unusual about that. The medicine cabinet of the adjoining bathroom was almost empty, and the strongest drug it held was aspirin.
Rhodes went into another bedroom, one that served as Lynn’s computer room. He saw a desktop with a computer tower, monitor, scanner, and printer. The computer and monitor were turned off.
He could think of a few things that might be on the computer’s hard drive, but that was something he’d get Ruth to check. It was clear that he wasn’t going to find any obvious clues just lying around.
It was time for him to go home.
* * *
As soon as he stepped up onto his porch, Rhodes heard the scrabbling of doggie toenails on the floor as Yancey, the little Pomeranian, ran to greet him. Rhodes opened the door, and Yancey went into a veritable frenzy of joy.
“If everybody were as glad to see me as you are,” Rhodes said, “life would be sweet.”
He went on to the kitchen, with Yancey capering around his feet. Ivy stood at the stove, holding a lid in her hand and looking into a pot of something that smelled a little like chili.
Sam, the black cat, was in his favorite place in front of the refrigerator. He raised his head and gave Rhodes a slow once-over with his yellow eyes before settling back down to sleep. Rhodes resisted the urge to sneeze.
Ivy put the lid back on the pot, turned to Rhodes, and said, “Late again.”
“Yancey’s glad to see me, though,” Rhodes said.
Ivy smiled. “So am I. Are you hungry?”
“Sure. What’s cooking.”
“Chili,” Ivy said.
Rhodes knew that technically she was telling the truth, but only technically. He was pretty sure that whatever might be in the pot, it wasn’t chili. It might look like chili, it might smell like chili, and it might even taste a little bit like chili, but it wasn’t really chili. That was because Ivy was currently watching his diet and was on a vegetarian kick.
The alleged chili would have beans in it, three or four kinds, probably, and tomatoes and corn, but there wouldn’t be any meat. The contents might include something that resembled meat, but it wouldn’t be the real thing. It would be something that Ivy had once told him was called “textured vegetable protein,” which to Rhodes meant soy. He was glad he’d had the cheeseburger for lunch, not that he was going to mention that to Ivy.
“Did we get any mail today?” Rhodes asked.
“You mean, did we get a book in the mail today?” Ivy asked back.
“You’re reading my mind.”
“I’m not reading your mind. I’m sure you’ve already seen a copy of Terrorist Terror at the jail. Am I right?”
“You’re right.”
“I get to read it first.”
“That’s fine,” Rhodes said. “I can wait.”
“Good,” Ivy said. “Because I can’t. I want to see what your alter ego is up to now.”
“He’s not my alter ego.”
“So you say. You can go out and see Speedo if you want to. The chili will keep.”
Rhodes went on outside. Yancey went with him. The heat of the day had drifted away with sundown, and it was almost pleasant. Rhodes sat on the top step of the little porch while Yancey bounded on into the dark yard to harass Speedo, a border collie Rhodes had acquired on a case a few years ago.
Speedo was considerably bigger than Yancey, but the smaller dog either didn’t know or didn’t care. After barking at Speedo, Yancey grabbed up a chew toy and ran away with it. That was enough to rouse Speedo, who went after him. It always cheered Rhodes up to watch them, but he couldn’t help thinking about the two murders.
Ivy came out and sat on the porch beside him, and he went through it with her. When he’d finished, she said, “So who do you think is the killer?”
“I wish I knew,” Rhodes said. He watched as Speedo ran right over Yancey, who bounced back up without relinquishing his grip on the chew toy. “It could’ve been anybody I talked to, or somebody else entirely. What I need is a motive. That would be a big help.”
“Mikey Burns and Clifford Clement have motives.”
“I know, but I’m not sure how strong they are. Clement has an alibi. Mikey does, too, but not much of one.”
“What about Lonnie?”
“I didn’t even ask about his alibi, but considering that Jeff Tyler’s dead now, I should have.”
“You think Lonnie’s capable of murder?”
“Just about anybody is,” Rhodes said, “in the right circumstances.”
�
�What about those two men you chased?”
Ivy grinned when she said it. Rhodes thought she’d enjoyed that part of the story entirely too much.
“They could have done it, but if they did, why would they hang around? They could have been miles away before the body was discovered.”
“Maybe they didn’t think you’d look in that old building.”
“Unlikely,” Rhodes said.
“But possible,” Ivy said.
“Jeff’s the real problem,” Rhodes said. “I don’t see how his death ties in. The method was different, too.”
“You’ll figure it out,” Ivy said.
“That’s what I keep telling myself, and everybody else. I don’t know that anybody believes it.”
“I do,” Ivy said.
The dogs came running up to Rhodes. The chew toy had disappeared. Rhodes patted Speedo, and Ivy said, “Be sure to wash your hands before we eat.”
“When will that be?”
“Right now,” Ivy said before going inside with Yancey close behind her.
Rhodes got up and looked at Speedo. “Do you think you need a bath or anything?”
Speedo thwacked his tail on the dry grass.
“That’s what I thought,” Rhodes said, and he went into the house to wash his hands and eat the supposed chili.
* * *
The chili wasn’t bad, Rhodes had to admit. He was even enjoying it, along with some saltine crackers, when the telephone rang.
Ivy answered it. She stopped talking after she said hello, listened for a second, then handed the phone to Rhodes.
“I’m in hot pursuit,” Benton said. “Battery thieves. Headed for the overpass in an old green Chevrolet pickup. No time to explain.”
Benton hung up. Rhodes handed the phone to Ivy.
“Emergency?” she said.
“Of the Seepy Benton kind,” Rhodes said, pushing back his chair. “Give Hack a call and let him know what’s going on.”
“I will,” Ivy said. “Be careful.”
“I always am,” Rhodes said.
Ivy looked at him and laughed.
“Well, nearly always,” he said, heading out the door.
* * *
Rhodes turned on the siren and light bar as soon as he got out of his driveway. It was dark, and he didn’t want to run into anybody or have anybody run into him, not that there’d be much traffic to worry about on the residential streets, or even downtown if they went there.