by Bill Crider
Rhodes envied anybody who could wear a hat. Even Seepy looked okay in a hat, but Rhodes was probably the only sheriff in Texas who didn’t wear one. In a photo in the Texas Lawman, taken on the day nearly every sheriff in the state had gathered in Austin to visit legislators, Rhodes was one of only two sheriffs not wearing a hat. Now that his hair was getting thin in the back, a hat would provide him with some protection from the sun. It wasn’t in the cards, however. Western hats made Rhodes look more like a comedian trying to do a John Wayne impression than a cowboy. Baseball caps were even worse. There was no way he was going to wear a baseball cap.
A car pulled to a stop back across the street. Rhodes half turned and saw Jennifer Loam get out. Loam had been a reporter for the Clearview Herald until she’d been downsized out of a job. Now she had her own news Web site, which claimed to present A Clear View of Clearview. She had her own video camera, not much bigger than a cell phone, and probably not much better. She’d started using it as soon as she got out of the car.
“The videos might not go viral,” Rhodes told Andy with a nod toward Loam, “but that one will be on Ms. Loam’s Web site within the hour.”
Andy shrugged and put his hat back on.
“You wouldn’t want to try to talk her out of using it, would you?” Rhodes said.
This time Andy blushed a little. Rhodes knew that he’d had his eye on Loam for a while. Romance was in the air.
“I don’t think so,” Andy said. “I don’t want to use my authority to try to intimidate the press.”
“Good answer,” Rhodes said, and he turned to Seepy Benton. “What’re you arresting Mr. Collins for?”
“Destruction of property,” Benton said. “Malicious mischief. Or maybe vandalism. I’m not sure of the difference. We didn’t learn that in the academy.”
“I’m not a vandal,” Collins said, trying without success to jerk his arms free. “I didn’t do anything.”
“It was vandalism, all right,” Eric Stewart said. He was considerably taller than either Benton or Collins, and younger than either, probably no more than thirty. “We all just got back here from the morning session and found him. He defaced a lot of paintings before we got to him.”
“Spray paint,” Benton said. “He put it on one of the sculptures, too.”
Collins looked shocked at the accusation. “Me? I didn’t do that. Did anybody see me do that?”
It always helped when the culprit confessed, but that wasn’t going to happen. Some witnesses wouldn’t hurt.
“Anybody see Mr. Collins spray-paint on anything?” Rhodes asked.
Nobody spoke up. Rhodes waited. Finally Eric Stewart said, “No one else was inside when it happened. As I said, we were just getting back. We saw this man”—he jerked Collins’s arm—“coming out of the building.”
“He must’ve done it,” Benton said. “He tossed the paint can in the trash, and it’s still there. Should have his fingerprints all over it.”
“That paint’ll clean right off whatever it’s on,” Collins said. “Not that I had anything to do with it.”
“It won’t clean off,” Stewart said. “The paintings are ruined.”
“I’d say what they are is improved,” Collins said, “and if I’d done the spraying, I’d sure take credit for it.”
He seemed to be enjoying himself. Maybe it was all the cameras. Everybody wanted to be an Internet star.
“Why were you in the building?” Rhodes asked him.
“I was looking for somebody to complain to. You wouldn’t listen to me. I thought maybe I could talk sense into these people. Instead, they grabbed me.”
“We went in and saw what he’d done,” Stewart said. “We were lucky to catch him before he got away.”
“Now just a minute,” Collins said. “I wasn’t trying to get away. I was right here on the sidewalk when you came back out.”
“Is that right?” Rhodes asked.
Benton nodded. He looked a little sheepish, as well he should, Rhodes thought. Both Benton and Stewart released Collins’s arms, and Collins shook himself before stepping away from them.
“Let me see your hands, Burt,” Rhodes said.
“Huh?”
“Your hands. Palms out.”
Collins put out his hands. Rhodes took each one and looked it over. No paint traces were visible. A test might reveal paint traces, but not if Burt had been wearing gloves. Where were the gloves? That was a good question. There were plenty of places to hide them in the building.
“That’s all,” Rhodes said. “You can go.”
“It’s about time,” Collins said. “I’m an innocent man, and you’re harassing me.”
At that moment, Lonnie Wallace came running up. Lonnie had on a Western shirt, jeans, and boots, which some people might have thought of as being odd for the owner/operator of a beauty shop, but it was Lonnie’s preferred attire. Rhodes could never wear boots, any more than he could wear a hat, and he envied Lonnie for being able to run in them.
“What’s happened?” Lonnie asked, panting a little from his run.
“Somebody fixed up some of your artwork for you,” Collins said. “Improved it, you might say.” He grinned. “Wasn’t me, though, and I didn’t see who did it.”
What happened next was a matter of some dispute later on, but in describing the video that she posted on her news site, Jennifer Loam used the words “donnybrook” and “melee.” Those seemed like heavy literary terms to Rhodes, who would have just called it a scuffle, and even though the whole thing was caught on video, it was still impossible to say exactly how it had started.
Lonnie Wallace claimed that he slipped, but Collins claimed that he’d been attacked. It was true that Collins was smirking, which might have been an instigation for a fight, but it did appear that Lonnie’s foot might have caught on the curb, causing him to stumble forward. No video that Rhodes saw later showed Lonnie’s feet.
Rhodes tended to think that Lonnie was telling the truth, since he knew it wasn’t easy to run in boots, but several people from the senior center swore that Lonnie had deliberately jumped on Collins. The fact that they were friends of Collins might have swayed their testimony, however. Others said it was clear that Lonnie had stubbed his toe on the curb. Those witnesses were all women who had their hair done at the Beauty Shack, Lonnie’s establishment, so that could have had something to do with what they claimed.
It didn’t really matter which set of witnesses was correct. The result was that Lonnie fell against Collins. Or attacked him. Lonnie said he merely grabbed Collins to keep from falling down, but the next thing Rhodes knew they were rolling on the sidewalk and there was definitely some slugging and kicking going on. And shouting. Lots of shouting.
Collins’s friends jumped to help him, and some of the artists tried to stop them. That was when the donnybrook or melee or brawl began, complete with pushing, chest bumping, fist swinging, and shouting. Lots of shouting.
Andy looked at Rhodes and said, “How do we stop it?”
Rhodes shrugged. It looked worse than it was, but there were already some bloody noses, and there’d be some bruises and black eyes eventually. Those who weren’t involved were taking video or watching with considerable interest. Some seemed to be cheering for one side or the other.
“I’ll get the bullhorn,” Rhodes said.
He went across the street, fetched the bullhorn from the county car, and used it to announce the presence of law officers. No one paid him the least attention. Rhodes put the bullhorn back in the car and turned on the siren and light bar. That slowed things down for a moment, and what happened next was the biggest surprise of the day for Rhodes.
Seepy Benton emerged from the heart of the brawl and started picking off the angriest and most aggressive fighters one by one. Rhodes didn’t know what Seepy was doing, exactly, but he appeared to be touching people up around their necks somehow or other. The people would then drop right where they were. They’d have hit the sidewalk if Don McClaren hadn’t
been right there to catch them and lower them gently down.
After Seepy had disabled three men, the fighting slowed considerably. Rhodes walked over and with Andy’s help separated Lonnie and Collins, who were still going at it. Rhodes pulled Lonnie to his feet, and Andy did the same for Collins.
“I’m really sorry,” Lonnie said to Collins. “I didn’t mean to fall on you.”
“Fall on me, my ass,” Collins said. “You were trying to kill me, you little—”
“Watch yourself,” Rhodes said. “You don’t want to start anything again.”
“Me start something?” Collins was boiling. “It wasn’t my fault. It was his.”
“He’s apologized,” Rhodes said. “You and Lonnie go stand over there out of the way. I’ll talk to you in a minute. And no fighting.” Without waiting for a response, Rhodes turned and looked at some of the crowd. “It would be a good idea for all of you to get back to what you were doing. We’ll investigate here and find out what happened to the artwork. I’d appreciate it if you’d wait a while in the building until I can come talk to you. You can put those cameras away now, though. The excitement is over.”
He hoped his last statement was true, and maybe it was. Even if it wasn’t, everyone seemed to accept it. The people who’d come out of the senior center started to return to their domino games and Pilates classes. Some of them looked at their videos as they walked, and Rhodes hoped that nobody would trip and fall. The artists, still muttering, went back inside the gallery and antiques building.
Seepy Benton stayed behind, because Jennifer Loam was still there with her camera. Rhodes had a feeling he knew who the next big video star was going to be, and no one would enjoy the attention more than Seepy.
Rhodes was glad that Seepy was the momentary center of attention, as it would give him time for other things. He motioned for Andy.
“I’m going to have a chat with Lonnie and Burt,” Rhodes told the deputy. “You go inside and see if you can get a better idea about the damage that Burt … or someone … did.”
Andy looked over at Jennifer Loam, who was now doing a video interview with Seepy Benton.
“Don’t worry about Seepy,” Rhodes said. “You know he’s dating Deputy Grady. He’s not looking for a new romance.”
“You sure about that?” Andy asked. “He looks interested to me.”
“He just likes attention. Call Hack and have him send another deputy, and then check out that paint can and anything else you can find.”
Andy did as he was told, but not without a couple of glances back in Seepy’s direction.
Lonnie and Burt were already arguing again, so Rhodes went to calm them down. Or try to.
Chapter 3
Before Rhodes could get to the two men, Don McClaren came out of the building and joined them. He got in on the argument and shoved Burt Collins away from Lonnie.
“Hold on,” Rhodes said. “Let’s not get that started again.”
“He’s being offensive and insulting,” McClaren said. “I think somebody needs to teach him a lesson.”
The implication was clear that McClaren would like to be the one to do the teaching, but Rhodes wasn’t going to let it happen. Not right then, anyway, even though he had an idea of what Collins might have said.
“It’s over,” Rhodes said. “You go on back inside, Mr. McClaren.”
McClaren didn’t argue. He started back toward the building, but halfway to the door, he stopped, turned, and appeared about to return.
“Just go on in,” Rhodes said.
McClaren glared at Collins, but that seemed to satisfy him for the moment. He nodded and went back inside.
“Now,” Rhodes said, looking at Collins, “let’s get this all straight. Lonnie says he fell against you by accident. He’s apologized. Seems to me that ought to settle it.”
“I’m really sorry,” Lonnie said.
“Bull corn,” Collins said. “You did it on purpose, and you aren’t one bit sorry.”
Lonnie looked at Rhodes. “I don’t know what else I can say.”
Rhodes didn’t know, either. Collins had been taunting Lonnie, but that didn’t mean that Lonnie had deliberately jumped him.
“Tell you what, Burt,” Rhodes said. “You go on home. If you want to file charges on Lonnie, you come to the jail tomorrow and do it. Right now, I have to investigate the vandalism of the paintings and see if I can figure out what happened and who did it.”
“Nobody hurt anything in there,” Collins said. “Improved it, if anything. You go look. You’ll see.” He started to leave but stopped and turned. “You can expect me tomorrow. I’ll be filing charges for assault and battery.”
“You really think he’ll file on me?” Lonnie asked when Collins was out of earshot.
Rhodes shrugged. “Hard to say. He’ll probably get over it.”
“I hope so,” Lonnie said. “I guess I’d better go and see what he did to the paintings.”
“He says he didn’t do it.”
“Ha,” Lonnie said.
They started toward the door, but Jennifer Loam called out to Rhodes.
“Sheriff, could you just answer a couple of questions for me?”
Rhodes stopped. “If they’re quick ones.”
Jennifer came over to him, followed by Seepy, who was looking quite pleased with himself.
“It’s a little trick I learned when I was training with Professor Lansdale in Nacogdoches,” Seepy said. “It’s all about pressure points. You don’t have to use any fancy moves if you can just touch the pressure points. Not that I don’t have some fancy moves. Would you like to have me demonstrate a few on camera?”
“Not right now,” Jennifer said. She turned the camera on Rhodes. “Sheriff, do you have any statement to make about what happened here today?”
Rhodes had learned a lot about the Internet in the last year or so. He hadn’t realized how many people in Clearview, and the whole county for that matter, looked at their computers or their phones or their tablet devices every day to check on the latest news. Now he knew, and he knew he had to be very careful about what he said because it wasn’t just the citizens who checked out Loam’s Web site. It was the mayor and the city council and the county commissioners, too. Loam would have the video up on the site within minutes after leaving the scene, and the commissioners would be looking at it soon afterward. Rhodes suspected that they all told their administrative assistants to check it hourly, if not even more often.
“I haven’t formed an opinion yet,” Rhodes said, feeling a little like a real politician. “I haven’t looked over the whole scene to check out the possible vandalism.”
“What about the donnybrook we just witnessed? Will there be any charges filed?”
“It was more of a little scuffle,” Rhodes said, “and it’s all settled now. I don’t think it will go any further.”
“Mr. Collins didn’t seem to feel that way.”
“I can’t speak for him. I’ll just have to wait and see.”
“Would you say that Dr. Benton saved the day here?”
Rhodes nodded. “He sure helped calm things down.”
“Thank you, Sheriff Rhodes,” Loam said. She turned off the camera. “You’re getting more noncommittal every day, Sheriff.”
“I’m learning,” Rhodes said. “You’ll have to excuse me now. I need to check on things inside.”
“I’ll be right behind you,” Loam said.
Seepy Benton fell into step beside Rhodes and said, “I hope you’re not going to blame me for the donnybrook.”
“More like a tussle,” Rhodes said, “and I don’t blame you even if you did rush to judgment.”
“I hope your deputy bagged the paint can,” Benton said. “I’m sure Collins’s fingerprints are on it.”
“Even if they are, he can just claim that he saw the can and picked it up out of curiosity. That won’t convict him of anything.”
“It would help, wouldn’t it?”
“Maybe,” Rhodes
said.
They entered the store, which, although it wasn’t air-conditioned, was cooler than the outside thanks to its high ceilings and the old electric fans with slow-turning wooden blades. The building had much better lighting than when it had been solely an antiques shop, but the old wooden floors were the same.
“Show me the damage,” Rhodes told Seepy.
Seepy pointed. “Right over there.”
Rhodes should have known. Everyone except for Andy Shelby was gathered along one side of the room, looking at two of the paintings. Andy, who had on a pair of nitrile rubber gloves, was poking around in a trash can, or what Rhodes supposed was a trash can. Given the surroundings, maybe it was some kind of art. Rhodes saw that Andy had already bagged the spray can and set it on a desk near the door, so he left him to his job.
Some of the art displayed on the walls and on little stands in various locations around the big room didn’t look much like anything to Rhodes. He knew that art didn’t need to be realistic and that his tastes, which ran more to Scrooge McDuck, were far from refined. Still, a blob was a blob. Or maybe not. Maybe if he looked at some of the tags, he’d learn differently.
He didn’t get a chance, however, because Lonnie Wallace looked around and saw him. Lonnie walked over and said, “The damage is just terrible, but I can’t stay to talk about it. I have to go back to the Beauty Shack. Mrs. Freeman’s coming in about five minutes from now, and she’s very picky. She won’t let anybody do her hair but me. I’ll be there if you need me. Just give me a call.”
“Sure,” Rhodes said. Lonnie hadn’t been there when the paintings were vandalized, so he wouldn’t be needed for a while. “I might need to see you later. In person.”
“Come on by,” Lonnie said. “You know where I’ll be.”
He left, and Rhodes and Seepy went over to the damaged artwork. Loam was already there, documenting everything with her camera. The woman with the orange hair was pointing at a painting and talking.
“You can see that it’s ruined,” she said.
She moved a little to the side so that Loam could get a closer shot. Rhodes saw that the painting, which had a lot of yellows and pinks and blues and greens and might have represented a field of flowers for all Rhodes knew, had a long diagonal gray line painted on it, from top right to bottom left.