A Reckoning in the Back Country

by Terry Shames

  “How’s that working out?”

  “We’re doing okay. It was rocky for a while. Chuck had good business sense, and he left it in good shape, but . . . well, it takes time for new people to settle in.”

  “I understand he kept his son-in-law on as the manager.”

  “Yep.” I can’t read anything from his face.

  “And he’s still here in that capacity?”

  He nods, but his expression has turned wary.

  “Is he a good manager?”

  “He, uh, he does okay. Last summer we came to a mutual agreement with him that he would only be manager of the warehouse operation, not the whole shebang. I mean, he was fine, the board just thought maybe some new blood was needed.”

  “And I assume that meant a salary cut.”

  “I’m not at liberty to talk about that.”

  “Assuming it did, I imagine that didn’t go over so well.”

  His face has gotten red, and he shrugs. “I’m wondering if maybe it’s not better for you to talk to the chairman of our board.”

  “Who is the chairman?”

  “The way Chuck set it up, we have a banker who oversees everything. That will continue for a couple of more years, and then we’ll be on our own. I can give you his name.”

  “That’s not necessary. I appreciate what you’ve told me. None of it will leave this room. But it’s helpful.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” Relief is in his voice.

  “I do have one more question. It doesn’t have to do with Bodine. Did you ever have guard dogs on either of the sites?”

  “Funny you ask that. Chuck got it in his head a while before he died that we ought to have the warehouse protected. It had been broken into a couple of times, and he decided to get some guard dogs from a security firm.”

  “You still have them?”

  “As far as I know. But I don’t get over to the warehouse.”

  “Could you do me a favor and call over there and ask somebody?”

  His uncomfortable look returns. “There’s nobody there today.”

  “Why is that?”

  “It’s an internal matter.”

  “Meaning?”

  “I really think it’s better for you to talk to the head of the board.”

  “It’d save me a lot of trouble if you told me what’s going on. I’m not going to blab to anybody.”

  “It’s not a big deal.” He drums his fingers on his desk, deciding. Then he says, “We’ve had a sort of work slowdown.”

  “You mean like a strike?”

  He flinches. “Don’t say that word. That’s not exactly what I meant.” He leans forward across his desk. “Listen. The people at the warehouse aren’t happy with Mr. Bodine, all right? We’re trying to figure out the best way to ease him out of there.”

  “I see. I imagine with his wife being Chuck’s daughter, it’s delicate.”

  “You got that right. Some people want him to be cut off entirely, but I’m of a mind that a nice severance could work to move him along, and that it’s the right thing to do.”

  I get him to call one of the men from the warehouse who is not at work today and ask about the guard dogs. When he hangs up, he says, “Those dogs disappeared a couple of weeks ago.”

  So Bodine’s company leased the dogs that killed Lewis Wilkins, which connects the dogs to Bodine. And according to Dooley’s wife, the Bodines are having money trouble. Not only that, Bodine thought Wilkins won his expensive boat by cheating. For the first time I admit that it’s a real possibility that Bodine had Wilkins killed in order to get the boat back. But if he wanted the boat back that badly, why didn’t he simply tell Wilkins he was going to expose him as a cheat if he didn’t return it? Why kill him?

  Bodine’s stepson is a possible link to all this. I’m still not convinced he and his friend Pete didn’t attack Margaret. I just don’t know why. Maybe a talk with him will shake something loose. I thank G.T. for his time and then head over to the Bobtail PD.

  The duty officer at the jailhouse tells me I’m just in time; that Jerry Bodine is coming down soon to bail out his stepson. My first thought is, why did it take him so long? I’m glad I got here before he did.

  Cal doesn’t look like he missed any sleep or any meals, unlike his buddy, who practically flings himself at the bars when he sees me.

  “I’ve got to get out of here,” Pete says. “If I don’t show up for work before long, I’m out of a job.”

  “What is it you do?”

  “I work at the warehouse.”

  “Jerry Bodine’s warehouse?”

  He nods.

  “What do you do there?”

  “I’m on the loading dock. Why do you care?”

  “How come petty criminals worry about everything but their own behavior?”

  “I’m not a petty criminal. I was along for the ride. Tell him, Cal.”

  Calvin sneers. “You were going to make as much money as I was.”

  I raise my eyebrows at the friend. He’s backing the wrong horse, and I expect he knows it.

  “Pete, have you called somebody to put up bail?”

  “I called my daddy. He told me to go whistle for it.”

  “Maybe spending time in here will give you a chance to reconsider your choice of friends and activities.”

  “Dammit.” He bangs the flat of his hand against the bar.

  I get an officer to bring Cal to a room where I can talk to him in private.

  “You want me to cuff him to the chair?” the officer asks.

  “I’ll be all right. You don’t plan to attack me, do you Cal?”

  “No. That would be stupid.”

  “You haven’t exactly shown me your brilliant side so far.”

  He sighs and slumps down into a chair. “Can I at least get a Dr. Pepper?”

  The officer says he’ll get one.

  “Cal, your driver’s license says you’re twenty-eight. Did you go to college?”

  “I went to the JC for a year. College wasn’t my thing, so I decided to go to work.” Translation: he could have gotten a college education on his folk’s dime, and instead he was too lazy to do the work and most likely flunked out.

  “Where do you work?”

  “I’m at the warehouse, too. Jerry thinks it’s a good idea for me to learn the business from the ground up.”

  “Now, Cal, as I understand it, your stepdaddy wanted you to take that boat out of the water. Where were you going to take it?”

  “I was supposed to take it to his house, and he was going to have a broker come and make an offer for it.” So much for Jerry’s claim that he was getting the boat back for his wife.

  “You’ve done other jobs for Jerry, haven’t you?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “What was the latest?”

  He squirms around. “I don’t remember. I guess hauling some stuff.”

  “Did Jerry have you do a job transporting some dogs?”

  “Dogs?” He has a way of screwing up his face when he’s lying that makes him look nearsighted. “The only dogs I had anything to do with are those dogs you made me give up. And Jerry didn’t know anything about that.”

  “You sure it wasn’t Jerry who had you stealing those dogs? I’m thinking if he was paying you boys fifty dollars a dog and getting five hundred apiece for them, he’d turn a tidy profit for no outlay.”

  “I told you, we were supposed to call a guy. Wait. What do you mean five hundred?”

  “That’s how much a lab pays for a dog. You didn’t know that?”

  “Hell no. That guy was cheating me.”

  “You sure it wasn’t Jerry screwing you out of the money? I hear he’s having financial problems.”

  “No, I gave you the phone number of the guy. It wasn’t Jerry.”

  “But Jerry did pay you to transport a couple of big dogs, didn’t he?”

  “No, I never had anything to do with those dogs.”

  The officer comes back in with a Pepsi. “
We didn’t have Dr. Pepper.”

  Cal frowns and opens his mouth to protest, but thinks better of it and pops the top.

  “You said you didn’t have anything to do with those dogs. You mean those two guard dogs?” I ask.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says. “What guard dogs?”

  “The ones that were at the warehouse. Did Jerry handle them? I understand they’re pretty hard to handle. Did you notice that?”

  “Damn right they were.”

  “Where did you see them?”

  He looks to the corners of the room. “Just at the warehouse.”

  He’s not ready to admit that he transported the dogs, so I change tactics. “Did Jerry ever have you follow somebody in your pickup?”

  He has just taken a swallow of Pepsi, and he chokes on it. It takes some coughing to clear his throat. “Went down the wrong pipe,” he says, when he can talk again.

  “Who did you follow?”

  “He didn’t say who it was.”

  “Did he say why?”

  “He said the guy had something of his, and he wanted to know where he went so he could get it back. So me and Pete followed him.”

  “What kind of car was the man driving?”

  “It was a white SUV. A Chevy.”

  “You followed him out to a road between Cotton Hill and Burton, right?”

  “I guess.”

  “He parked, and then what happened?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know. I called Jerry and told him where we were, and he said to come on home.”

  “This man you followed. Did you ever see the guy again?”

  “No.” His voice is low.

  “When was this?”

  “Not long ago. Just before Thanksgiving.”

  “But Jerry didn’t get back what he wanted, so he sent you out to shake up Margaret Wilkins.”

  He denies it, but I don’t press him. I’ve heard enough for now.

  On the way to my car, I see Jerry Bodine walking over from the courthouse with some papers in his hand.

  “Imagine seeing you here,” he says.

  “I came to find out what your stepson had to say about his adventure last night.”

  “He filling your head full of stories? He’s got plenty of ’em and I’ve heard ’em all.”

  “He’s pretty subdued. I think he learned a lesson.”

  “And what lesson might that be?”

  “Either to be careful who he works for, or to be careful to do the job right.”

  Bodine fixes me with a look. I don’t think he can figure out whether I’m friend or foe, which is exactly what I’d like to leave him with. His chuckle doesn’t go with his sour expression. “Well, I wish I had that boat back in my hands, but I guess I have to let it go.”

  “Your wife will have to be content without the boat,” I say. “But you’ve got some dock repairs to pay for after last night’s fiasco. Dooley is none too happy.”

  “Oh, Dooley will be okay. He knows I’m good for it.”

  CHAPTER 29

  On my way home, I stop to pick up Dusty, calling Maria to let her know I’m on my way. She’s out on the landing outside her apartment with him. He does his little yodel when he sees me.

  “What have you been up to today?” She’s holding Dusty close to her, as if she doesn’t want to let him go.

  “Nosing around. It looks like Jerry Bodine has money problems.”

  “What kind of money problems?”

  “Apparently Jerry’s wife didn’t get the inheritance she was expecting, and instead of Jerry inheriting the family business, his father-in-law sold it to the employees. Jerry Bodine was manager of the business after that, but now the employees are trying to ease him out.”

  “Interesting. Do you think that has something to do with Wilkins being killed?”

  “I do, but I’m not sure of the details.” I hadn’t planned to hang around and discuss this with Maria, but before I know it, I’m laying out the facts. I tell her I discovered that Bodine’s father-in-law leased the guard dogs that we found dead. “They were used to guard the warehouse until they disappeared a couple of weeks ago.”

  She arches an eyebrow. “That’s an awfully big coincidence.”

  “That’s what I thought, too. Along with Bodine’s money problems, that starts to form a picture.”

  “Let’s go inside and talk. It’s too cold out here.” She’s wearing a sweat suit, but she hates cold weather. It’s at least sixty degrees, and she thinks that’s cold.

  I’ve only been in her apartment a couple of times. If Maria is buttoned up in public, she lets her personality out here. Color is everywhere—a bright blue sofa with splashy, blue-patterned cushions, and walls hung with posters from Mexican music festivals. I notice a dog toy for Dusty on the floor.

  She takes Dusty back from me and sits on the sofa with him in her lap. “You’ve got a connection between Bodine and the dogs, and Bodine needed money, so what does that have to do with Wilkins?”

  “Wilkins was into gambling. Maybe they played other high-stakes games and Wilkins ended up owing Bodine money. That could explain why he had that money on him that I found in the SUV. He was intending to pay Bodine back.”

  “But if he owed Bodine money, why didn’t he just give the boat back?”

  “Beats me. Maybe it was pride. Or maybe Bodine told him he had to have cash. We know Wilkins sold property for cash.”

  Maria’s eyes are gleaming. She loves a good puzzle. “When Bodine threatened him with the dogs, though, I wonder why he didn’t simply tell Bodine where the money was?” Dusty has turned over onto his back and is gnawing at Maria’s hand.

  “Maybe Wilkins didn’t think Bodine was serious, and by the time the dogs attacked, it was too late.”

  Maria shivers. “What a horrible thought.”

  “There’s one other possibility that would be a better explanation. Bodine’s stepson said he followed Wilkins out to where we found the SUV and that he called Bodine to tell him where Wilkins was. Suppose he’s lying? Suppose he and his pal took Wilkins out of the SUV and never asked about the money?”

  “Right!” Maria says. She’s excited now. “Bodine might not have even told them what he wanted with Wilkins, because he didn’t want them to know how much money was involved.”

  “Exactly.” I get up. “Only problem with all this brilliant guesswork is proving it.”

  I find Dooley watching the two carpenters tear out planks so they can repair the dock.

  “Ain’t I lucky,” he says. “Getting a visit twice in one day.”

  “You may not feel so lucky when you hear what I have to say.”

  He gives me a startled look, puzzled by the steel in my voice. “Sure thing. Let’s go inside and have a cup.” In the café, he asks me if I want a sandwich. I’m hungry. It’s past my lunchtime, but I don’t feel like sharing a meal at the moment.

  “Cup of coffee will do me.”

  He sits down with two cups. For the first time, he looks nervous. “You sound serious.”

  “You haven’t been square with me.”

  He goes still. “What do you mean?”

  “You said you didn’t arrange any more poker games after the one when the boat changed hands, but you knew there were other high-stakes games, didn’t you?”

  He picks up his coffee and takes a meditative sip. “I didn’t want to tell tales. Some people like to keep it quiet that they do a little gambling. You understand.”

  I nod. Playing poker for money is technically illegal, but the only games likely to cause problems with the law are ones with high stakes.

  “The only reason I told you about the one game was to explain how Lewis came by that boat.”

  “Did you personally attend any more games where Jerry Bodine and Lewis Wilkins were both there?”

  “No. I got asked a couple of times, but I didn’t like the sound of it. They were pushing up the stakes too high for my blood.”

  “I need to k
now the names of the other men who played in those games.”

  His expression is grim. “I don’t want to rat on anybody. I don’t see the point.”

  I sit back and study him. He’s a jovial guy, and I’m sorry I have to push, but that’s the way it is sometimes. A lawman doesn’t always have the advantage of being a nice guy. “Here’s the way it works. You can either give me the names and I can have a friendly, off-the-record chat with them, or I can find out where the games are held—and I’m pretty sure I know where that is—and take a pack of law officers out there and bust up a game, arrest people, and cause a big stink. It’s your choice.”

  He pulls his lower lip. “Craddock, I never figured you for an S.O.B.”

  “I don’t need to be one unless people don’t cooperate when I’m investigating a murder.”

  “The hell you say?! You telling me one of these fellas had something to do with Lewis getting killed? That’s crazy.”

  “Dooley, sometimes we have to follow a lead wherever it goes. And if that means I’m an S.O.B., then that’s the way it is.”

  He lets out a long sigh and runs a hand over his head. “I don’t mean to be uncooperative with you,” he says. Then he gives me the names and phone numbers of the two men he told me about earlier, the two who were there the night the boat changed hands.

  “Dooley, I expect you to keep this whole thing quiet. And that means don’t talk to anybody about it until I say you can.”

  “Why would I tell anybody?”

  “Just don’t.”

  Dusty seems glad to be back in his own house, or maybe it’s just me glad to have him back. Zelda walks in and sits at the edge of the room and glares at both of us, but she’s bluffing.

  I heat up some enchiladas, but I could as easily be eating cardboard. My mind is chasing my suspicions and not finding a solution for how to find out whether they are true.

  I’m almost done when Loretta comes to the door. She’s bundled up in a winter coat and has gloves on. Before she’s even inside she says, “I came by to tell you we solved the situation with Jenks’s wandering.”

  “That was fast.”

  “I don’t mind saying I feel pretty smart. It was easy, once we realized we were looking at it the wrong way.”

  “What do you mean?”