A Reckoning in the Back Country

by Terry Shames

  Maria and I decide to find out if his buddy Pete knows where he is. We get his address from the Bobtail PD and go over to have a chat with him. He lives in an apartment building. We would ring his doorbell, but the door is open and there’s loud rock music coming from inside. “Anybody home?” I holler.

  “Gabe?” A familiar voice calls out before Cal Madigan rounds the corner.

  “Oh.” He looks panicky. “Just a minute. I’ll get Pete.”

  “That’s okay,” I say. “It’s you I’m looking for.”

  “What do you need me for?” If he’s hoping to project innocence, this kid does not have a great acting career ahead of him.

  “I have a few follow-up questions for you. Shall we come in, or would you prefer to answer questions down at the Bobtail PD? I’m sure they’ll accommodate us.”

  “Um, I guess you can come inside.”

  Pete’s place is neater than I thought it would be. It’s cheaply furnished but looks like a grown-up lives there and not somebody wishing he was still in high school. Pete walks into the room and looks startled.

  “Nice place,” I say. “I hope you don’t mind if we talk to your friend Cal.”

  “I guess that’s okay.”

  “We need some privacy.”

  He shrugs and leaves the room.

  Cal plops down on the couch, and Maria and I sit in opposing chairs so that Cal can’t see both of us at once.

  “Let me ask you something,” I say. “Do you ever lend your truck to anybody?”

  He frowns. “I helped somebody move last summer, and he borrowed the truck for a while. Why?”

  “Anybody recently? Like right before Thanksgiving?”

  “No.”

  “Here’s my problem,” I say. “It appears to me that you didn’t tell me the truth when I talked to you at the jail.”

  “I told you everything I know.”

  “I asked you if you transported those dogs, and you said you didn’t. You were lying. Where did you take them?”

  “What dogs?”

  “You know what dogs,” Maria says. “Don’t act like you’re stupid.”

  He glares at her. “Don’t call me stupid.”

  “I didn’t say you were stupid,” she says with exaggerated patience, “I said you were trying to act like you were. We know you transported those two guard dogs. Where did you take them?”

  He seethes silently and then comes out with the only smart thing he’s uttered since I first laid eyes on him. “I need to call Jerry.”

  “You could call him,” I say. “But I think you’d be better off just answering the question. Where did you take those dogs?”

  He swallows. “If I can’t call my stepdaddy, I’m not going to tell you anything.”

  “Right. Let’s give him a call, then.”

  Cal takes out his cell phone and punches in some numbers, but then he stops. “I need to talk to him privately.”

  “Tell you what. Why don’t I call him?” I ask.

  Cal sighs and punches the call button on his phone. We hear only Cal’s side of the conversation, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Jerry Bodine is not happy. When Cal hangs up, he says, “Jerry’s coming, but it could take a few minutes.”

  “That’s all right. We have plenty of time.” I wait a minute or two, while Cal fidgets, and then I say, “Let me tell you what I think happened. I think Jerry Bodine told you to get those dogs and meet him somewhere.”

  “Wrong.”

  “Where did he say to meet him? Was it out in that area where we found Wilkins’s body?”

  “I don’t know anything about where his body was found.”

  “Was it at night?” Maria says. “Had to be. You couldn’t risk somebody seeing you.”

  “I told you, that didn’t happen.”

  I lean back and lace my hands behind my head. “When you got there with the dogs, Jerry had Lewis Wilkins tied up, and he turned those dogs on Wilkins; and then they killed him.”

  He’s breathing heavily, and sweat has formed on his brow.

  “You know that bringing the dogs there makes you guilty of second-degree murder, right?” I say.

  “Oh, no, no, no. I took the dogs there. That’s all I did. Then I left. I don’t know what happened after that.”

  Bingo. We’ve got him. And he knows it. His face loses color.

  “Where did he tell you to take them?”

  “I . . . I don’t remember the exact place. And I’m not saying anything else until Jerry gets here.”

  “How can you not remember? It wasn’t that long ago,” Maria says.

  “Well, I just . . .”

  “Well, if you can’t remember where it was,” I say, “you can at least remember if you turned the dogs loose, or did you put them in a pen or in a shed?”

  He stares at me, face getting paler by the second.

  “Did you handle the dogs by yourself, or did you have your buddy with you? I can call him in here to ask him.”

  The apartment door swings open, and Jerry Bodine strides into the room like he owns it. “What the hell is going on here?”

  “Just a friendly talk,” I say.

  Cal says, “He’s asking me about . . .”

  “Don’t say another word,” Bodine says. “I’ve called a lawyer for you.”

  “A lawyer?” I say. I smile at Cal. “Why would your stepdaddy think you need a lawyer?”

  Cal’s eyes widen. “Jerry, what the hell?”

  “I told you, don’t say a word.”

  “He’s already said a good bit,” I say. “He tells me he transported those two guard dogs of yours and met you with them.”

  “I did not!” Cal yells.

  “Him and his friend Pete.”

  Cal’s eyes light up. “That’s right, it was Pete. Jerry was paying him, not me . . .”

  “You goddam liar!” Pete bursts into the room. “You aren’t going to pin this on me. I only went along to help you. Those dogs scared the crap out of me.”

  Cal leaps up. “You better keep your mouth shut. You were in it as much as I was.”

  “That’s not true. It was Jerry who . . .”

  “Shut up!” Cal yells. He lunges for Pete.

  I jump up, but Maria is faster. Maria unsnaps her weapon and yanks it out of the holster. She’s not big, but she has the ability to make herself look commanding.

  “Now hold on,” Bodine snarls.

  Cal holds his arm out as if to ward off Maria. “You can’t . . .”

  “I can!” She takes one hand off the weapon and points to Cal and then to a chair across the room, “Over there!” I’m by his side now, and I grab his arm, steer him away, and shove him down into the chair.

  Bodine steps toward Pete, his fists clenched. “Both of you shut up. Can you manage that for ten minutes?”

  “I want him out of my place,” Pete says, glaring at Cal. “He showed up here and said he needed to hang out for a while. I should have told him no.”

  Cal snorts and looks daggers at his friend.

  I look down at him. “So you came here to hide out?”

  “He’s lying.”

  Bodine’s phone pings, and he looks at it. “Lawyer’s on his way.”

  At that we all settle in to wait. Ten minutes later, there’s a knock on the door. Bodine yanks it open, and who walks in but Bodine’s poker buddy, Lonnie Casper.

  “Hello, Lonnie,” I say.

  Maria darts a glance at me.

  “Let me introduce you to Lonnie Casper, Maria. Mr. Casper, this is my deputy, Maria Trevino.”

  Casper smirks. “I’m afraid this little chat is over. Mr. Bodine has hired me to represent his stepson, and you no longer have the right to question him.”

  “Shame about that,” I say. “Cal, stand up.”

  He gets to his feet, looking confused.

  I pull out my handcuffs. “Hold out your hands, please.”

  He throws a desperate look at Bodine. “Jerry.”

  “No
w wait just a minute,” Bodine says. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m arresting Cal for the murder of Lewis Wilkins.” I spiel out the Miranda warning. All of this drama is having its effect. Cal looks terrified.

  “Casper, can he do that?” Bodine asks.

  “I’m afraid so. Not that he has any grounds to, but he can arrest anybody he wants to. Don’t worry, we’ll . . .”

  “I didn’t kill anybody,” Cal says, his voice shaking. “It was those dogs that did it. At least I heard that’s what happened.”

  “But you transported the dogs, which is all the evidence I need. Sorry, Pete, but you’re in this, too. Both of you are going to jail.”

  “No way,” Pete says. “Not me.”

  “I’m going to make the case that the two of you kidnapped Lewis Wilkins out of his SUV, took him back to where you had the dogs tied up, and set the dogs on him.”

  “This is ridiculous,” Bodine says. “A wild accusation.”

  Casper clears his throat. “We’ll get this sorted out. But for right now, you boys need to go with Chief Craddock.”

  “Hell no!” Pete says. “I’m not taking the blame for this. We took the dogs where Bodine told us to. That’s all.”

  “Shut up!” Cal screams.

  Pete says, “You and Jerry can rot in jail. It had nothing to do with me.”

  “No such thing happened,” Bodine says. “I don’t know what you were up to, Pete, but it had nothing to do with me.”

  Maria says to Pete, “Were you there when the dogs went after Wilkins?”

  “No. He told us to leave. We didn’t know what he was going to do.”

  “The kid’s lying,” Bodine says.

  I tune Bodine out. “And later Jerry told you to go back and get rid of the dogs’ bodies, is that right?” I ask.

  Maria chimes in. “Except instead of taking them off somewhere, you hauled them farther back into the thicket. You found a shed there and left them.”

  “That’s right,” Pete says. “We just thought Jerry had shot the dogs. We didn’t know the dogs killed somebody. Not until we heard later.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Bodine says to Casper. “Can’t you stop this?”

  “Jerry, I’m not representing Cal’s friend.”

  “What does it take? A deposit?”

  “Just your request that I represent him.”

  “Done. Now you boys are both under Mr. Casper’s care.”

  “I don’t want it,” Pete says. “I didn’t do anything.”

  “Well, until we can clear up exactly what happened, you two are going back to jail,” I say. “Maria, how about if you call the Bobtail PD and ask them to come get these boys?”

  Maria reads Pete his rights. “Do I need to handcuff you?”

  He shakes his head, and she makes the call to the Bobtail PD. It’s no time before a squad car arrives.

  “I guess that’s that,” Bodine says. He gives me a hard look and turns to Casper. “You’re on this, right?”

  He shrugs.

  “We’ve got a lot of evidence to connect your stepson with the murder,” I say. “But I would like to ask you a few questions to clear up what Pete was talking about. Why don’t we sit and discuss it?”

  “Hold on a minute.” He looks around Pete’s apartment as if getting his bearings. “This whole thing has taken me completely by surprise.”

  “I understand. I’m giving you a chance to set me straight.”

  “I don’t think I have to answer any questions. Isn’t that right, Casper?”

  “What makes you think that?” I ask.

  “I’ve retained Mr. Casper to represent those boys, and since I’m paying the bill, I’m his client.”

  I catch Maria’s eye. A smile is playing on her lips. She knows the law on this matter as well as I do. It’s important that officers understand the laws on interrogation so that they don’t slip up and ruin their case. “I wish that was true,” I say, shaking my head as if I truly regret it. “But I believe Lonnie can set you straight.”

  “Lonnie?” Bodine says. His eyes have the look of a rabbit searching for a place to run.

  “Uh, I believe what Craddock is referring to is a ruling that there is an exception to the attorney-client privilege. True?” He nods to me.

  “That’s the one. Bottom line,” I say, turning to Jerry, “somebody paying another person’s attorney fees can’t hide behind privilege.”

  “That’s not exactly the way I would put it,” Casper says, pursing his lips. “But close enough.”

  “So let’s get to it,” I say.

  “I don’t have anything to hide,” Bodine blusters. “Ask away.” He eases onto the sofa. Casper looks like he’d rather be anywhere else.

  “Mr. Casper, you don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to,” I say.

  He shoots a calculating look at Bodine. He knows that Bodine doesn’t have the money to pay him. This is all on a buddy basis, and that’s wearing thin. He glances down at his watch. “I’m sorry, Bodine. I’m supposed to be in court. Remember, you don’t have to answer questions if you don’t want to. And you can call another lawyer.”

  “That’s probably not necessary,” I say. “We’re just going to get a timeline straight.”

  Casper meets my eyes. He knows that’s not true. But he also heard Pete’s claim, and he knows that his pal Bodine might very well have murdered Lewis Wilkins. If he was Bodine’s lawyer, he might dig in his heels. But that opportunity doesn’t exist anymore now that the attorney-client exception has been called up.

  Casper scoots out the door, and I turn a friendly smile in Bodine’s direction.

  “Can I get you a glass of water?” Maria asks.

  “I’d appreciate that,” Bodine says. He turns to me, “I told you Cal had some tall tales to tell.”

  “It isn’t just Cal, it’s also his friend Pete. You heard him tell me they delivered those two guard dogs to you, and that they don’t know what happened after that. But they also said they followed Wilkins. I’m betting they delivered Wilkins to you, too. So how about if you tell me exactly what happened.”

  “Pete can’t be trusted. His hide is on the line. Of course he’s going to lie.”

  Maria comes back with the water, and he gulps down half a glass.

  “The problem is,” I say, “I believe him.”

  Bodine leans forward, forearms on his legs, and speaks as if in confidence. “You know he and Cal get up to a lot of mischief. There’s no telling what they did with those dogs.”

  “I think what happened is that you lost a lot of money to Wilkins in those high-stakes poker games. He demanded the money, and you paid him off. But it was money you didn’t have, so you decided you had to get it back.”

  “I don’t know where you got that idea.” He sits back, watching me like I’m a rattlesnake.

  “Here’s what I think you did. You told your high-stakes buddies, including Lewis Wilkins, that there was going to be a poker game on Sunday night. But then you called the other men and told them the game had been changed to Monday night.” I continue spelling out the way I think it happened.

  “That’s ridiculous! That is the craziest story I ever heard.”

  “Well, the problem is, one of the guys you play cards with told me you had switched the game from Sunday to Monday.” I don’t mention that the guy who told me was Lonnie Casper.

  “That doesn’t mean a thing.” His reply is fast, and he’s breathing in gasps.

  “I suppose there’s another possibility. It’s possible you were too much of a coward to take care of Wilkins yourself, so you sent your stepson and his friend to do it.”

  “No.” He gets up and takes a few steps toward the door before he turns back to us. “Casper said I don’t have to answer questions, and I don’t have to listen to idle speculation.”

  I stand up, too. “You heard it for yourself. The boys admitted that they transported the dogs, but they said they delivered them to you. Are you saying tha
t’s not true?”

  “You can’t prove a thing,” he says, marching for the door.

  “We can prove one thing. We have solid evidence connecting your stepson and his friend Pete to the dogs. And we have their word about what they did.”

  He has his hand on the doorknob and stands frozen.

  “Do I need to remind you? Pete also said you wanted them to haul the dead dogs away. But all they did was take them to a shed farther into the back country. That’s where we found them.”

  He’s shaking his head.

  “And one more thing. When I talked to you earlier and mentioned that the dogs had been killed, you slipped up.”

  “Slipped up how?” His voice is a croak.

  “I didn’t say how they had been killed, but you said they had been shot.”

  “It—it’s the only thing th-that made sense.” He’s stuttering.

  “So somewhere between the boys bringing the dogs to you and the dogs being shot, Wilkins was killed. You going to let them take the blame for that? I imagine your wife wouldn’t be thrilled to find out you were pointing the finger at her son.”

  He lowers his head. I see all the fire go out of him. “No, I don’t suppose she would be.” He turns back around to face me.

  “We didn’t find the gun used to kill those dogs, and I suspect you still have it in your possession. You never thought it would come back to you, right? If you have it, a ballistics test will point right to you. I’ll have a team out there with a search warrant within the hour. And if we don’t find it, I’ll be charging your stepson with the murder.”

  He staggers over to a chair and sinks into it, putting his head in his hands. “Wilkins was a cheat. He cheated me out of everything. He deserved what he got.”

  Once he says that, there’s no turning back. He comes clean and admits that he owed Wilkins the two hundred thousand, and after he paid off the debt, he decided to steal it back.

  “I’m still curious how those boys came into the equation. You knew on Sunday Wilkins was going to be carrying that two hundred thousand you paid him. You had your stepson follow him to the canceled poker game. The boys admitted that. Did you have them bring him to you, or did they meet you somewhere?”

  “This has nothing to do with them.”

  “At Bobtail PD, Cal told me they followed Wilkins and then called you to tell you where he was—but that didn’t make sense. It would have taken you a while to get there, and by then Wilkins would have been in the house where the game was usually held. So I expect they delivered him to you.”