by Bill Crider
“She was wrong,” Rhodes said.
“Luckily, I had my guitar in the car,” Benton went on. “I played her some songs, and she even sang along on ‘Go Tell Aunt Rhody.’”
“That’s a sad one,” Schwartz said.
“I’ll bet Deputy Grady would like it,” Benton said, giving Rhodes a sideways look. “Especially the way I sing it.”
“Maybe she would,” Rhodes said. He wasn’t going to play Dr. Phil for Benton. “I appreciate your helping out.”
“I’m always happy to assist my local law enforcement.”
“There’s a right way and a wrong way to do that,” Rhodes said, looking at Schwartz. “The wrong way would be to go after someone with a gun because they’d insulted your wife.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Schwartz said. “I didn’t do anything like that.”
“You thought about it, though.”
“Look, those Crawfords are dangerous.”
“One of them’s not,” Benton said. “He’s dead.”
“Yeah, but the other one’s still around, and we’re talking about when they both were. They were running some kind of a scam up there on that hill, even if they didn’t have a meth lab. Somebody needed to do something.”
“Somebody did do something,” Rhodes said. “And now Terry’s dead.”
“I’ m not saying that’s a good thing.”
“They won’t be bothering Jackee anymore,” Benton said. “They won’t be selling whiskey, either.”
“It’s up to me to take care of that,” Rhodes said. “Not citizens. I have to congratulate you about what you did for Mrs. Owens, though.”
“You’re welcome,” Benton said.
“I hope you don’t think I killed Terry Crawford,” Schwartz said. “I couldn’t do anything like that. And there’s something else.”
“What else?”
“Jackee and I have talked it over. We don’t think it was Terry who bothered her that day. We’re pretty sure it was Larry. They’re hard to tell apart.”
“It doesn’t matter now. I don’t think you killed Terry, and I have a pretty good idea who did.” Schwartz relaxed a little, and Rhodes went on. “I do believe you wanted to make some kind of move against the Crawfords. It’s a good thing you didn’t. You might have been the one who got hurt.”
Schwartz looked sheepish. “You’re right. I did think about it. I wasn’t going to do anything on my own, though. I was going to get some help. The trouble was, nobody wanted to help me.”
“Good for them,” Rhodes said.
“You don’t have to worry about me,” Benton said. “I promise I’ll stick to helping widows with possum problems, or whatever comes up along those lines.”
“Me, too,” Schwartz said.
Rhodes nodded. “That’s good, because I have something I want you to help me out with.”
“We’ll be glad to,” Benton said, as if speaking for both of them. “What is it?”
“It has to do with flying saucers,” Rhodes told them.
Chapter 26
AFTER EXPLAINING ABOUT DAVE ELLENDORF, RHODES USED Schwartz’s phone to call Burns’s office. When Mrs. Wilkie answered, Rhodes said, “I’ll be coming back by there to take Ms. Muller home.”
“That might be a good idea,” she said.
Rhodes didn’t know what she meant, and he didn’t get a chance to ask, because she’d already hung up.
“Is that Mel Muller you’re talking about?” Benton said.
It wasn’t any of his business, but Rhodes told him that it was. He added that she was building a Web site for the sheriff’s department.
“I’ve heard that she does that kind of thing,” Benton said. “So do I. It’s just a sideline, but I’ m really good at it. You should check out docbenton dot com sometime. It’s a sample of what I can do.”
“Maybe I’ll do that,” Rhodes said, though he didn’t have any intention of following through.
“I’m pretty good with a computer,” Benton said. “I teach math, but I’ve done a lot of work with databases and mathematical software.”
If there was one thing Rhodes had no interest in, it was mathematical software, so he turned to Schwartz before Benton could elaborate.
“Do you think you can rig something up for Mr. Ellendorf?” Rhodes asked.
“Easy,” Schwartz told him. “I have some old electrical components around here that’ll make a good hum and buzz.”
“Fine. The sooner you get it to Mr. Ellendorf, the better. Be sure to show him how to turn it on.”
“What if it doesn’t work?” Benton asked.
“It’ll work,” Rhodes said. “I guarantee it.”
“No doubt about it,” Schwartz said. “There won’t be any more flying saucers in the neighborhood once my saucer repeller’s on the job.”
“That’s what I thought,” Rhodes said. “I knew that the academy would produce some graduates who’d do some good in this community.”
“By repelling flying saucers?” Benton said.
“That, and by helping out with some other things. With possums, for example. You’ll be going back to see Mrs. Owens, I hope.”
“I said I’d drop by now and then. She likes my music. You could have Deputy Grady check on her, too.”
Rhodes didn’t mind playing Cupid for Mikey Burns, but he wasn’t interested in getting involved in the love life of one of his deputies.
“You might want to talk to her yourself,” Rhodes said. “I don’t know if she likes guitar players.”
“Some people don’t,” Schwartz said, as if he knew from experience.
“What about banjo players?” Benton said.
Schwartz shook his head. “Don’t ask.”
“Maybe you should wait out here a few minutes,” Mrs. Wilkie said when Rhodes got to the commissioner’s office.
Rhodes thought she just wanted the pleasure of his company, until he heard the loud voices coming from behind the door to Burns’s office.
Mrs. Wilkie looked worried. “They’ve been arguing for five minutes now.”
“I’ll see if I can settle them down,” Rhodes said, and opened the door.
He was taken aback by what he saw. Mel Muller and Mikey Burns faced each other across Burns’s desk, talking in angry tones. They broke off when Rhodes came in, and Mel turned to look at him. Neither she nor Burns looked glad he’d showed up.
“This is a private conversation, Sheriff,” Burns said.
His tone made it clear that Rhodes could forget taking Dr. Phil’s place anytime in the near future.
“I hope you’re not arguing about that Web site,” Rhodes said, though he knew that wasn’t the problem.
Burns’s voice was strained. “We’re not arguing, and if we are, it’s none of your business.”
“I’m sure it’s not, but I came to pick up Ms. Muller. I need her help with an investigation.”
“What kind of investigation?” Muller asked, ignoring Burns and giving all her attention to Rhodes.
“Just a little computer work,” Rhodes told her. “It might even have to do with a computer you’re familiar with.”
“Which computer would that be?” Burns asked.
Rhodes didn’t think it would be a good idea to bring up Jerry Kergan’s name at the moment.
“That’s something I’ll have to keep secret for now. Part of an ongoing investigation.”
“If it’s in my precinct, I have a right to know,” Burns said.
“Not really,” Rhodes replied. He was getting tired of Burns’s act. “If you want to take it up with the ACLU, that’s fine with me.”
“You’d better not mess with me, Sheriff. I know about that car you destroyed last night.”
Word gets around fast, Rhodes thought.
“I’m not messing with you, and what happened to the car wasn’t my fault. I’m sorry it happened, but that’s just one of the hazards of enforcing the law.”
“It’s going to affect our insurance
rates.”
“That’s too bad,” Rhodes said. “Maybe we can make Rapper pay for it when we catch him.”
“You’d better catch him, then, whoever he is,” Burns said, though he and Rhodes both knew better than to think there’d be any restitution for the car.
Rhodes was tired of talking to Burns. He looked at Mel. “Would you be willing to help me out with that computer?”
She stood up. “As long as it gets me out of here. What do you want me to do?”
“You’ll find out,” Rhodes said. “I don’t think you’ll have any trouble.”
“Good. Can we go now?”
“Sure.”
She started out of the room, and Rhodes stepped aside to let her through the door.
Before Rhodes could leave, Burns said, “I’ll talk to you later about your behavior, Sheriff.”
“It’s about time somebody did,” Rhodes said.
“What does that mean?”
Rhodes didn’t answer. He just closed the door. Mel wasn’t in Mrs. Wilkie’s office.
“She said she’d wait outside,” Mrs. Wilkie said when Rhodes asked.
“Thanks. Could you make a phone call for me? I’m sure Mr. Burns wouldn’t mind.”
“I guess I can,” Mrs. Wilkie said, and Rhodes asked her to look up the number for Schwartz’s store.
“Call and tell him I’d like to speak to C. P. Benton, if he’s there.”
Mrs. Wilkie got the number and made the call. Benton was still at the store, and Rhodes took the phone to speak to him.
“Can you meet me at Dooley’s in ten minutes?” Rhodes asked.
“I’m helping Max with the saucer repeller.”
“He can handle that. I might need your computer skills.”
“All right. I’m always glad to help out the law. That’s why I was in the academy. I’ll be there.”
Rhodes handed the phone to Mrs. Wilkie, thanked her, and left.
Mel didn’t have much to say at first. After Rhodes started the car and got under way, he asked if she was all right.
“I’m fine. Mikey Burns will never change. He’s afraid to commit to anything.”
By “anything,” she means to her, Rhodes thought. He should have known that Burns wasn’t going to reform instantly.
“Where are we going?” Mel asked.
“To Dooley’s. You said you helped Jerry Kergan set up his accounting system, didn’t you?”
“Not exactly. I showed him how, but I didn’t really set things up for him.”
“You could probably find the accounts on the computer, and if you did, you could print them out for me, though.”
“Maybe. I can’t be certain until I try.”
“I have a lot of confidence in you,” Rhodes said.
“Will this help you find out who killed Jerry?”
“I’m not sure. I hope so.”
Because Kergan had been killed by Rapper, Rhodes was looking for a motive, and he suspected that the two had been dealing in bootleg whiskey. Kergan had already failed in the restaurant business once, and since the profit margin was so narrow even in a successful operation, Rhodes thought Kergan might have found a way to make enough money to keep him going until Dooley’s started to turn a profit. If he had, there could be something in his records to show where the money had come from.
The problem with that theory was that Rapper hadn’t been seen at the restaurant. Only the Crawfords had. So if Kergan had been doing business with anyone, it was more likely to have been Larry and Terry than Rapper.
In a way, that would be all right with Rhodes. He wanted to get Larry almost as much as he wanted to get Rapper.
Or maybe it was really Lawless he wanted to get. Lawless had recently represented a woman Rhodes had arrested for murder, and he’d almost gotten her off. In the process, Lawless had tried to cast Rhodes in a bad light, a villainous sheriff persecuting an innocent woman who couldn’t possibly have done what he claimed she had.
After the trial, Rhodes told himself that Lawless had only been doing his job, and he’d told Lawless that he didn’t hold any grudges. He’d been thinking almost the same thing when he’d talked to Judge Parry about Lawless and the academy.
It was easy to say that all was forgiven, and Rhodes believed he’d meant it. But maybe he hadn’t. Maybe he was harboring a little resentment that he wasn’t even aware of. At any rate, he’d like to beat Lawless again, and if Larry had been selling whiskey through Dooley’s, it might be possible.
Benton’s little Saturn was already at Dooley’s, parked near the front door, when Rhodes and Mel arrived. The door had a strip of yellow-and-black crime-scene tape across it. Benton was standing beside his car, strumming a guitar.
“Who’s that?” Mel asked.
“That’s Dr. C. P. Benton. He teaches math at the college.”
Mel looked skeptical. “He doesn’t look like a math teacher.”
“Don’t let the guitar fool you. He’s a math teacher all right, and a computer whiz besides.”
Mel’s skeptical expression didn’t change as they got out of the car. Even hearing Benton’s playing didn’t change it.
Benton grinned at her and did his best to make her smile, running through a few chords and singing a couple of lines of some song Rhodes didn’t recognize.
Benton stopped playing and said, “Not a music lover?”
“Do you know ‘Witch Doctor’ ?” Rhodes asked after he’d introduced them.
“No, but I know ‘The Merry Minuet.’”
Benton plucked a few notes and sang something about rioting in Africa.
Mel smiled then. “That song’s fifty years old,” she said, “and nothing’s changed.”
Benton finished the song and put his guitar in a case in the backseat of his car. Mel stood by him, asking him computer questions that were more or less incomprehensible to Rhodes, who was feeling like a rival for Dr. Phil again.
“Let’s go in and take a look at Kergan’s computer,” he said.
He went to the door and took down the crime-scene tape. He had a key, and he opened the door. They all entered the dark restaurant. Rhodes didn’t know where the lights were located, but Benton did. He turned them on, and they went to Kergan’s office.
“He needed a new computer,” Benton said, looking at the box that sat on the floor by the workstation.
“He just used it for simple things,” Mel said. “Nothing more complicated than a spreadsheet. He could have been using a Commodore sixty-four and he wouldn’t have known the difference.”
She and Benton had a little laugh at her comment. Rhodes didn’t get the joke.
“Can you find his accounts?” he asked.
“I’m sure I can,” Mel said.
“And if she can’t find what you’re looking for, I can,” Benton said. “If it’s there, I mean.”
Mel looked at him. “Are you really any good?”
“I know quite a bit about computers. I even build Web sites. Check out docbenton dot com if you want to be impressed.”
Rhodes had to admit that Benton didn’t lack confidence in his abilities, whether he was talking about computers or musicianship.
Mel didn’t say whether she wanted to be impressed by the Web site. She turned on the computer and waited for it to boot up.
“He didn’t even use a password,” she said after the computer had booted up.
She clicked on the mouse a few times, running through menus so fast that Rhodes didn’t have a chance to get much of a look at them, not that he’d have known what they were even if he’d stared at them for a long time.
Benton watched, too. Rhodes detected a hint of admiration in his eyes. Ruth Grady might not be so interesting to him now, and Rhodes felt a little guilty about that. It was possible that Benton was just the guy for her. On the other hand, maybe he wasn’t.
“Here’s what you’re looking for,” Mel said, saving him from worry about his Dr. Phil-like maneuverings.
Rhodes looked at the comp
uter monitor. Even he could tell that he was looking at the restaurant’s regular accounts.
“What I want is something that would have been off the books,” he said. “A record of dealing in something illegal. Whiskey sales.”
“There’s nothing like that here.”
“Jerry didn’t sell whiskey in the bar,” Benton said. “I was here often enough. I would have known if he’d been doing something like that.”
“He wouldn’t do anything illegal,” Mel agreed. “He wouldn’t take that kind of chance.”
“Just keep looking,” Rhodes said.
Mel worked the mouse awhile longer. “Nothing,” she said. “Jerry wasn’t good enough at accounting to keep two sets of books anyway.”
“Let me try,” Benton said.
Mel got up, and Benton sat in the chair at the workstation.
“You won’t find anything,” Mel said.
“If it’s here, I will.”
And in only a couple of minutes, he did.
Chapter 27
“HE PUT IT IN A FILE CALLED ‘LETTERS’?” MEL SAID. “WHO’D ever look there?”
“Me,” Benton said.
“Never mind,” Rhodes said. “What does it tell you?”
“Not much,” Benton said. “I’m not even sure it’s what you think it is. It does seem to show that he took in some money, but it doesn’t show that he paid any out. Wouldn’t he have had to pay for whiskey if he bought it?”
“Of course,” Mel said. “I knew he wasn’t selling whiskey.”
“I did, too,” Benton said. “I told you that just a few minutes ago. Remember?”
Rhodes remembered, and he wished Kergan had made things a little more clear. According to what Rhodes could make out on the monitor screen, Kergan had recorded dates and amounts, but he hadn’t said what the money was for. The amounts were for a hundred dollars or so at a time, but the times were pretty well separated. Maybe the money would have been enough to keep the restaurant going until business built up, or maybe not. Rhodes would have to go through the other accounts, or have someone do it for him, to be sure.