An Unsettling Crime for Samuel Craddock

by Terry Shames

  “Affair? Courtship? Whatever you call it, we went at it pretty hot and heavy for over a year. I thought something was going to come of it. Then, all of a sudden, he upped and went back to Dallas.” She bites her lower lip.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up an old wound.” If anyone had asked me, I would have thought Bonnie was too independent to let a man into her life.

  She cocks her head. “Why did you ask me about him?”

  “He comes back here once a month. Do you ever see him?”

  Her color deepens. “I don’t know that it’s anybody’s business, but he occasionally drops by.” I’ve never known her to be a bitter woman, but her mouth twists. “Once a fool, always a fool.”

  She’s in love with him. “Then I’m not sure you’re the one I should be asking.”

  “Samuel, I’ll tell you the truth. I may be a fool for him, but my life has taken a different turn. The truth means more to me than any man could. Ask your question.”

  “Cato has connections with a couple of men I think had something to do with Duchess Wortham’s family being killed. The Texas Ranger I’m getting help from said he didn’t think they were directly responsible, but that they may have something to do with it.”

  “What men?” Bonnie gets up and begins to walk around as if she can’t sit still.

  “A real-estate developer by the name of Barton Dudley, who goes by the nickname ‘Blue,’ and his sidekick, Freddie Carmichael.”

  She comes to a stop in front of me with her arms crossed. “I’ve never heard of them.”

  “There’s one more you probably have heard of: Beaumont Penny.”

  “He’s like a bad penny. Turns up in all the wrong places. I never knew him to be violent, though. Just crooked.”

  I don’t tell her that he is connected with the drug trade in Houston. “Does it come as any surprise to you that George Cato might be involved in something that turned shady?”

  She takes a long time answering, during which she paces, staring at the floor. “I won’t say I’m surprised, but I don’t know anything specific. I know that George likes money, and if he thought he could make a killing by doing something a little shady, he wouldn’t hesitate.” She realizes what she has said. “I don’t mean a killing killing. I mean a get-rich-quick scheme.”

  When I leave, I think about the get-rich-quick aspect of what she told me, and for the life of me I can’t figure out how George Cato was going to turn letting Duchess Wortham live in a house on his property into a money-making proposition. Even if she was a prostitute and he got a cut, Jarrett Creek is not a place where anybody is going to find big money. More likely, he was doing somebody a favor. But why?

  It’s dusk, and I run by the house to make sure the cattle are okay. I wish Truly Bennett was here to look in on them, too. I don’t know much more than the bare minimum about how to keep cows. With that in mind, I resolve to drive over to San Antonio tomorrow to see Truly. But tonight I’ve got one more stop to make.

  It’s dark by the time I pull up in front of the Montclair farm. I’m relieved to see that George Cato’s car is here. He’s the man I want to see, and I was worried that he might have gone back to Dallas. The front of the house is dark, but there are lights on in the back.

  A youngster’s head appears at the window, looking to see who has come calling. I get out of the car as the front door opens, and the dog comes roaring out. I speak to him, and he quiets immediately and trots over for a scratch behind the ears.

  Owen Montclair comes out onto the porch. Even though the house is on a hill, there is no trace of a breeze. The norther that came through last week is a long-gone memory, and I’m sweating by the time I walk up the steps.

  “What brings you out here this time?” he asks.

  “I need to talk to your brother.”

  “You might as well come on in. We’re in the kitchen.” His voice sounds funny, and as he walks in front of me, he staggers. I smell alcohol on him.

  George is sitting at the kitchen table. There’s no sign of Judy or the children, but from somewhere I hear the sound of a TV. As sparse as their lives are, I’m surprised that they have one. There’s a bottle of Jack Daniels on the table and two glasses.

  Without asking, Montclair gets a glass out of the cabinet and pours me a healthy shot and then sags into his chair. He waves his hand airily. “Wife and kids are watching the TV that George brought in today, and I’m drinking the whiskey he brought.”

  Cato picks up his glass and turns it around and around with a pained look on his face.

  I take a sip of the whiskey and shudder. It goes straight to my head since I haven’t eaten for many hours. My headache had gone down to a dull throb, but the whiskey wakes it back up. I set the glass down. “George, I need to have a few words with you in private. You want to come out on the porch?”

  “Oh, hell no,” Montclair says. “This farm won’t be mine much longer, but while it is, I can show some hospitality. Make yourself at home. I’ll be watching the TV with my family.” He pours himself a half glass of whiskey and lurches out of the room.

  George watches the door long after Montclair leaves.

  “He’s going to regret the whiskey in the morning,” he says. Then he turns to me. “Why are you here?”

  I’ve become aware of the gulf of age and experience between Cato and me. Some things you can’t know from just observing, you have to live them, and I dread that Cato’s deal with Dudley and Carmichael is in that vast land of experience. “Tell me about your relationship with Blue Dudley and Freddie Carmichael.”

  Cato’s eyes are full of melancholy. Although I never saw any war action in my years in the air force, I was around men who had. They had that kind of look, like the world they looked at was different from the world other men saw. “I wouldn’t exactly call it a relationship. More like an understanding.”

  “What kind of understanding?”

  “About what I owe and how to pay it off.”

  I don’t have any training in psychology, but something tells me that Cato wants to talk, so I say the simplest thing I can think of. “Tell me about it.”

  He knocks back his bourbon, and I take a sip to show some kind of comradeship, even though I suspect I don’t really want to be his comrade.

  “It all comes down to family. When I was a kid, I lost my mamma and for a while it was just me and Daddy. When he remarried and he and his wife had Owen, I thought I would be pushed to the side. But my daddy held fast to me. He told me that no matter what happened, the two of us were joined forever. His wife’s people were from Dallas, so we all moved back there. She was a nice-enough lady, treated me okay, but of course she favored Owen, and then they also had a daughter.” His voice wobbles when he mentions the daughter.

  “When I got older, I decided to come back here and settle down. I liked it here. It’s a good town, and I knew a lot of people.” He pauses and looks off in the distance and takes another swig. “One in particular. I kind of thought I had everything going fine, but then all hell broke loose. Owen’s mamma ran off with another man, and a month later Daddy hit a tree coming home from work and was busted up real bad. And you know what?”

  “What?”

  “I called that bitch to tell her what happened, and she didn’t even bother to come see him. I couldn’t leave Daddy at home like that by himself, and Owen was in college and I couldn’t ask him to give up his education, so it was up to me to go home and take care of him.”

  “Did you think of bringing him back here?”

  “Of course I did. But I had my little half sister, June, to take into consideration. She was in high school and pitched a fit not to be taken away from her friends.”

  “Her mamma didn’t take her along when she left?”

  “She wanted to, but Junebug wouldn’t think of leaving Daddy. I decided I’d go back and take care of the two of them. I figured when Junie went off to college, I’d move Daddy down here and take up where I left off with my lady friend.
”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  He looks tired. “Oh, you know how it is. One thing led to another. I met a girl and we got married, had a couple of kids.” His voice trails off.

  “And you didn’t want to bring them here?”

  “It wasn’t that. It was June. She got into some trouble. Took up with a kid who was up to no good. She didn’t go to college, just . . .” He rubs his face. “Why am I telling you all this?”

  “Somewhere along the line, it’s going to lead to Blue Dudley.”

  His smile is tight. “And Freddie Carmichael.”

  I make the connection. “The boyfriend.”

  “Yep. Anyway, June got into trouble, and Freddie said he could make it go away, but it would cost me. Not right away, but somewhere down the line.”

  A deal with the devil. “June’s trouble was drug-related?”

  “In spades.” Suddenly he starts laughing. “Spades. Get it?”

  He doesn’t seem to want an answer. “What happened to June?”

  “Died of an overdose couple of years back.” He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. “She was the cutest thing you ever saw.” He coughs a couple of times. “Now do you understand?”

  “Not completely. When she died, that didn’t cancel out the debt?”

  “No, sir, not by a long shot. Right after her funeral, Carmichael talked to me and said a debt is a debt and when he called on me for help, he expected me to follow up.”

  “What did he ask you to do?”

  “I don’t suppose it will hurt to tell you. Last fall, he came and told me he needed a place to stash the family of this man he did business with. I didn’t ask him what kind of business, but he told me anyway. Said it was June’s drug dealer, man by the name of Clyde Wortham. He told me it wouldn’t cause me any trouble, all I had to do was provide the land.”

  Chapter 36

  There’s a light on in the Bennett house. Alva Bennett comes to the door, peeking around it when she answers it, as if she’s terrified of who might be coming to the door so late at night.

  “Alva, I was hoping to talk to your daddy,” I say.

  “He’s not back from San Anton’ yet. He stays there most days, keeping vigil.”

  “How is Truly? I’m sorry I haven’t gotten over there to see him.”

  “He’s passable. At least nobody has beaten up on him, but Daddy says his spirits are low.” She’s hanging onto the door, obviously reluctant to invite me in. “Alva, I need to ask you something, and it seems too silly to do it with you half in and half out of the door. Come outside, and we’ll sit on the steps.”

  She scoots out the door, but before she sits down she says, “Can I get you a Coke?”

  “No, I’m fine.” She probably smells the alcohol on my breath, but there’s nothing I can do to fix that.

  As soon as we sit, a mosquito lands on my arm, and I swat it. The air is so sultry, this could be the Gulf Coast.

  “Alva, tell me what you know about Beaumont Penny.” Since she’s the one who put me on his trail, I’m sure she knows something.

  She makes a humming noise deep in her throat. “Everybody knows Bee.”

  “Then you know he’s involved in the drug trade? Does he sell drugs?”

  She hugs her legs up to her chest. “I don’t know nothin’ about that. I know he got in some trouble over in San Anton’ and he left in a kind of hurry.”

  “Does he come back here often?”

  “You know, Chief Craddock, I don’t keep up with people like him. I’m trying to make enough money to get to college next year at Bobtail JC, and I work two jobs. I don’t have time to fool around much.”

  “Two jobs?”

  “Yes sir, I work over at the motel in the mornings; and then on the weekends I work at the barbecue place over in Bobtail where Beaumont’s daddy cooks sometimes.”

  “Has Beaumont ever come around there?”

  “I ain’t never seen him, but like I said, I work weekends.”

  Ezekiel’s pickup drives up, and Alva jumps to her feet. “I got to get inside and warm up some supper for Daddy. He’s hungry when he gets back at night.”

  I step down to greet Ezekiel. “I’m glad you came home before I left. How’s Truly?”

  He takes his hat off, gets out a big handkerchief, and mops his head. “About like you’d think. He’s looking at hard time and he’s in despair. He feels like the Lord has deserted him.”

  I never was much for religion, so I don’t know about whether God has deserted Truly, but I know the law has.

  “I’m going by tomorrow to see him. It might help him to know that I’m working hard to get him out of jail.”

  Bennett grunts. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate that,” he says. But he’s being polite. I doubt he sees much possibility in my efforts.

  “Is Albert Lamond still leading protests?”

  He chuckles. “You know as well as I do that wasn’t going to last. That man has no real interest in Truly. He only wants to get his name in the paper.”

  “At least he was of use in getting Truly transferred to San Antonio.”

  “Yessir. I suppose I should be thankful for that.”

  I head home to my solitary state. I don’t have the heart for a big meal, so I heat up a TV dinner, feeling sorry for myself. Finally I call Jeanne. She comes to the phone laughing, which helps my spirits.

  “Mamma and I were playing gin rummy,” she says. “For money. She owes me $8.25.” I hear her mamma laugh in the background.

  “I’m glad you’re having fun. Are you all set to go to Disneyland?”

  “We leave tomorrow at noon. Tom is so excited that I almost never got him to sleep.” She lets silence stretch for a minute and then says, “You would tell me if you are in danger, wouldn’t you?”

  “Probably not. What good would it do?”

  “Does this have anything to do with Horace?”

  “What makes you ask that?”

  She sighs. “I was trying to talk to you the other night. Remember when I asked why Tom didn’t seem to miss his folks, and I wondered how they could just take off without him?”

  “I remember.” Of course she doesn’t know the half of it; that Horace and Donna have disappeared.

  “I mentioned to Mary Lee that I thought it was odd. Samuel, she told me there have been rumors for some time that Horace and Donna have been involved in something illegal. And I think she meant drugs.”

  “When did she tell you this?”

  “A few days ago,” Mary Lee Bosco is her best friend. She’s the doctor’s wife, our only GP in town. “You know that friend of hers, Loretta Singletary? She’s the one who ought to run a newspaper. She knows everything that goes on in the whole county. Anyway, she told Mary Lee that the reason the city council hired you to be police chief was so you could do something about Horace and make it go away without a lot of fuss. Did you know that? Have you been keeping all that from me?”

  “No, it’s news to me.” I sigh. I’m glad she can’t see me. My cheeks are most likely fire-red, not out of embarrassment, but because I’m furious at my brother for putting me in this position, and furious at Hazel Baker for neglecting to tell me the real reason I was hired. “Or at least I didn’t when I took on the job. I guess I ought to tell you, I recently discovered what he was up to.”

  “You sound mad. Don’t be mad long-distance, Sammie. You know I can’t stand that.”

  “I’m not mad. Frustrated, that’s all. How could Horace be so stupid? . . . Don’t answer that.”

  “You know what I think?”

  “What?”

  “I think the reason you wanted me to take Tom out of town is so you could deal with Horace without involving us.”

  “That’s part of it.”

  “Are you going to arrest him?”

  “I haven’t decided what to do.”

  “Be careful.”

  “Jeanne, Horace won’t hurt me. At least not physically.”

  “I wish I co
uld be there.”

  I wish she was here, too. Before I hang up, I tell her I love her, but it’s not the same as being able to pull her close physically.

  I walk to the fireplace and look at the painting she brought back last week. It has grown on me. When all this is over, I’m going to take her to Houston to look at art galleries there.

  In college we dated for several months before I even knew she had more money than most of the people I went to school with. Before we went to Dallas to meet her family, she warned me, as if it were a guilty secret.

  Her folks live a bit grander than we do, but as her father pointed out to me, “As you get older, you get to enjoy the fruits of your labor more. We raised Jeanne and her brothers to understand that they were fortunate to have nice things, but not to feel like they’re something special just because my daddy and I were lucky in business.”

  I’ve had some worries along the line about not being able to provide for her in the same way, but she always swears that she only wants a regular life with me.

  Chapter 37

  As soon as I get to work the next morning, I call Curren Wills.

  “You’re up and at ’em mighty early,” he says. “I was going to call and check to see if you’re still alive.”

  “Check back tomorrow.”

  “Have you made any plans based on what we talked about yesterday?”

  “I’d like to tell you that I have a plan, but all I have is a vague idea of shaking bushes until something jumps out.”

  “Just be sure that whatever jumps out isn’t carrying a gun.”

  “I got some interesting information last night.” I describe my conversation with George Cato, and his connection with Freddie Carmichael.

  “That’s of interest,” he says, “but I don’t know what good it’s going to do your boy Bennett.”

  “A couple of things have been bothering me,” I say. “I never heard what kind of gun was used in those murders. I know they recovered bullets at the autopsy, because I was there. Did Sutherland ever follow up on that?”

  “You know, I haven’t heard a word about that, but even if you know what kind of gun it is, I don’t know what you’re going to do with the information if the murders were committed by drug dealers from Houston.”