by Bill Crider
“Aren’t you going to ask me what I’m here for?” Jennifer asked.
“Do I have to ask?”
Jennifer laughed. “No, you don’t. I’ll tell you. Hack said you had quite a chase and arrest today. I’d like to get the story for my blog.”
“There’s not much to tell,” Rhodes said. “Sounds like you already have your story. I wouldn’t want it exaggerated.”
“Exaggerate? Moi? You know I wouldn’t do that.”
“No,” Rhodes said, “I know you would exaggerate it, probably with some clickbait headline.”
Jennifer smiled. “I need Seepy Benton to create those headlines, and now he has another job.”
Rhodes thought that the story of the chase would be a good one even without exaggeration, considering the encounter at the bridge and the flipped car, so he gave Jennifer a brief version of it, which she recorded on a small digital device. When he was finished telling her, she put the recorder away and said, “Now I have some information for you. It’s about Lawrence Gates.”
Rhodes sat up straighter in his chair. “Tell me.”
“I talked to Roger Prentiss today about Lawrence Gates for a story I’m doing on the murder. Roger showed me a picture of Lawrence, and I recognized him. He’d called me a few weeks ago and asked to meet and talk. He told me his name was William Smith.”
“I’ve seen some of his movies,” Rhodes said. He had fond memories of Hell Comes to Frogtown, the kind of bad old movie he liked but which never turned up on TV anymore.
“I didn’t know William Smith was a movie star,” Jennifer said. “I should’ve asked for ID when Lawrence and I met, but I didn’t. I told him I’d be glad to talk to him but that I didn’t think I’d be much help. He said he thought I would, so I agreed. We met at Max’s Barbecue for lunch.”
She paused, and Rhodes decided that she was yet another one who’d been around Hack and Lawton too long. He thought he might as well play the game. “Was the food good?”
“I had the sliced beef plate. It was great.”
“What did Lawrence have?”
Jennifer laughed. “I know what you’re doing, but I don’t mean to drag this out. While we ate, he asked questions about Thurston and the people who lived there. He was interested in the school, but he was more interested in the people, it seemed to me. He had the sliced beef plate, too, by the way.”
“Which people?” Rhodes asked.
“You can probably guess. The three families most involved in the controversy about the school building. He managed to get me interested enough to do a little digging on my own later, and it turns out that Charlie Reese, who seems to own a piece of everything, has a construction company that’s going to bid on the new building. I never got to tell Lawrence that.”
“One more reason for Charlie to want it torn down,” Rhodes said, wondering how that might tie in to the murder or if it did.
“He was interested in the Hunleys, too. It seems he was a big war buff.”
“I know that for sure,” Rhodes said. “What about the Falkners?”
“I think he had something on them, but he didn’t tell me what it was. I gathered that it involved the Hunleys.”
Rhodes wondered if Lawrence had heard about the pranks the Falkners had pulled and who might’ve told him. Maybe he’d heard only about the pranks and figured out who was behind them.
“He knew one thing that’s not general knowledge yet,” Jennifer said. “Maybe Con Hunley told him.”
Rhodes wondered about that. Con had claimed not to have talked to Lawrence, or John Watson, or anybody about the school. Rhodes asked what Lawrence knew that wasn’t public knowledge yet.
“Con’s planning a school reunion for the fall, a homecoming, I guess you could call it. Lawrence thought it was more something to glorify Con and Pete than something to benefit the community. A big deal with them at the center of it, lots of talk about what heroes they were and how the school should be saved because of that. Lawrence seemed upset about that for some reason.”
Rhodes couldn’t think of any reason for Lawrence to be upset. “The Hunleys like publicity,” he said, “but there’s nothing wrong with that. Some like it and some don’t.”
“You don’t,” Jennifer said.
“Let’s just say I prefer a low profile.”
“You’ll be glad for some publicity next year when you’re running for office again.”
“I might not run,” Rhodes said. “I haven’t made up my mind.”
“You’d be elected by write-in votes if you didn’t,” Jennifer told him. “You’re a popular man around here.”
“Thanks to your blog.”
“That might have something to do with it, but not much. You do a good job, and you’re fair. People know that and appreciate it.”
Rhodes didn’t like talking about himself or his election prospects. He said, “Con didn’t mention the homecoming to me when I talked to him today.”
“He’s not ready to publicize it, according to Lawrence. It must be just in the planning stages.”
Rhodes wondered if the homecoming could be connected to the murder. If Lawrence knew about it that meant he had talked to Con, and that was something worth looking into. Rhodes would need a picture of Lawrence, something he should’ve thought of sooner. He’d get one from Roger or from Seepy.
“I need to get this story on my blog,” Jennifer said, standing up. Rhodes stood, too. “I’ll let you know if I find out anything else about Lawrence and the murder.”
“You do that,” Rhodes said.
Jennifer left, and Rhodes sat back down to filter through his interviews and see what he could come up with. After an hour he hadn’t come up with anything, so he went on back to the jail to do some paperwork.
The rest of the afternoon was routine: an arrest for sale of a controlled substance; a couple of calls about thefts; a man on the side of the road waving his arms was brought in for public intoxication. The saddest thing was the arrest of a young woman for the theft of spinach dip from Walmart. Buddy had brought her in, and even he felt sorry for her, which might have been a first. Although the dip cost less than three dollars, the offense was considered a Class B misdemeanor because she had a previous conviction for theft on her record. The punishment in such cases was a sentence of up to a hundred and eighty days in jail or a fine of up to two thousand dollars or both. Rhodes hoped the judge would go easy on her, and so did Buddy, who might’ve been getting soft after all his years on the job.
Because not much was going on and because it was too late for Rhodes to follow up on any of the thoughts he’d had at the courthouse, it appeared that he would get to go home at a normal time. He called Ivy to let her know.
“Good,” she said. “You deserve a break now and then.”
“You got that right,” Rhodes said.
“We’re having Mexican food,” Ivy said.
“Sounds great. I plan to spend some time with Speedo and Yancey before I eat. Maybe there’ll even be a bad movie on that I want to watch.”
“A relaxing evening then.”
“Absolutely,” Rhodes said.
It didn’t work out quite that way, however. That night someone tried to burn the Thurston schoolhouse down.
Chapter 17
The phone call from Wanda Wilkins came just as it was getting dark. Rhodes didn’t know how she’d gotten his number, which was concealed in the phone book under Ivy’s first initial—I. Rhodes. Ivy always answered the phone and often that was as far as any unauthorized caller got, but not this time.
Rhodes only half-listened to the conversation. So far it had been a relaxing evening even if it hadn’t gone quite as planned. He’d given the dogs a romp, but he hadn’t found a bad movie to watch, and the Mexican food Ivy promised had turned out to be a veggie enchilada casserole. It wasn’t bad, but Rhodes liked his Mexican casseroles with a little meat in them. A lot of meat was even better. Chicken or beef, it didn’t matter as long as it was meat. Ivy’s casserole had
black beans, cauliflower, and sweet potato, among other things. Rhodes wouldn’t have thought the sweet potato would work, but it did. He would still have preferred meat, however.
The conversation between Ivy and Wanda ended, and Ivy handed the phone to Rhodes.
“Sheriff?” Wanda said when Rhodes took the phone.
“Yes,” Rhodes said. “It’s me.”
“That wife of yours didn’t want to let me talk to you, but I told her how important it was. Did she tell you?”
“No,” Rhodes said. “She just told me who was calling, so I knew it was important.”
“Good. You need to come down here right now.”
“Why?” Rhodes asked.
“There’s somebody prowling around in the school. I’ve been taking a look now and then when there’s a commercial on TV, and I saw somebody over there.”
Rhodes couldn’t figure out what anybody would be doing in the school at night, so he asked Wanda if she was sure. That was a mistake.
“Sure?” she said, almost loud enough to be heard all the way from Thurston without the phone. “Do you think I’m some crazy old woman who doesn’t know what she’s seeing? When I say there’s somebody there, there’s somebody there. You ought to know better than to ask, and if there’s somebody in the building, then they’re up to no good. You can mark my words.”
Rhodes hated to ask the next question, but he knew he had to. Wanda’s house was across the street, it was almost dark, and she probably didn’t have perfect vision. “What did you see to make you so sure?”
“I saw a shadow move in front of a window,” Wanda said. “Somebody’s in there with a flashlight, and don’t tell me I’ve just made some kind of mistake. When I see a shadow move, then it moved. It looked like the outline of a person, and so that’s how I know somebody’s in there. You better get down here and take a look or you’ll be sorry if something bad happens.”
Rhodes sighed but not loudly enough for Wanda to hear. He added, “I’ll have to get dressed.”
“Well, you better make it snappy. If you don’t get here quick enough, I’ll go over there myself.”
Rhodes knew she meant what she said. “If there’s someone in the building, that’s too dangerous. You stay put. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“You don’t believe me, anyway,” Wanda said, “and you can’t tell me what to do. I know my rights.”
“Just don’t do anything until I get there.”
“We’ll see,” Wanda said, and she hung up on him.
“She sounds nice,” Ivy said when Rhodes hung up.
“She is,” Rhodes said, although he could tell what Ivy really meant. Her tone had made it clear. “She’s just overly excited. She thinks someone’s messing around in the Thurston schoolhouse.”
“That’s what she told me,” Ivy said. “Do you believe her?”
“I’m not sure, but I’ll have to go check it out. I hope she doesn’t do anything stupid.”
“She just might,” Ivy said.
“Durn tootin’,” Rhodes said.
* * *
The building was already on fire when Rhodes arrived, and the flames appeared to be spreading. A small crowd had gathered, standing a good way away from the building, and Rhodes asked a man if the fire department had been called.
“Sure,” the man said. His round face was lit by the fire. “All’s we got is a volunteer department, though, and it takes them a little time to get organized. Far as that goes, all’s we got is a pump truck since we don’t have fire hydrants. A pump truck ain’t gonna be much help here.”
“They’ll call Clearview and other departments,” Rhodes said.
“Sure, but they’ll just bring pump trucks. That buildin’s a goner. Might be a shell of it standin’ when it’s all over, but that’s about all.”
A short woman with big eyes tugged at Rhodes’s sleeve. “Sheriff?”
Rhodes turned to her and asked what she wanted.
“I got here before anybody else, and I saw Wanda Wilkins running into the schoolhouse. She didn’t come out. Somebody needs to get her out of there.”
Rhodes looked at the burning building. The fire was mostly on the lower floor, but it would soon spread to the second. He didn’t know what he could do, but the woman was right. Somebody needed to get Wanda out of there. Unfortunately there was nobody around but him who appeared even halfway willing or able.
Neither floor was engulfed in flames, so maybe it was still possible to get in and out if he did it fast enough, but finding Wanda quickly might be a problem. If she’d been able to get out on her own, she’d be out already, so something had happened to her, and whatever had happened wouldn’t be good.
Hesitating wasn’t going to get the job done, and the Thurston fire department still wasn’t on the scene. Rhodes asked the woman if she had a handkerchief.
“I have a headscarf,” she said. She opened her purse and pulled it out.
“I’ll need to borrow it,” Rhodes said, taking it from her. “You call the Clearview EMTs and tell them to hurry.”
He tied the scarf around his head like a road agent’s mask and took off toward the building at as much of a run as he could muster.
It was like running toward a furnace. The closer he got, the hotter it got, but he didn’t slow down. He ran up the steps and found that the door was open, so that worry was taken care of. He stopped running when he got inside. It had been a long time since he’d read the Bible, but he remembered the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego who’d been cast into the fiery furnace. They’d been protected by an angel, but Rhodes had a feeling no angel was going to show up to protect him.
Rhodes didn’t have a flashlight, but there was one on his phone. He got the phone out of his pocket and turned on the flashlight. Its beam and the flickering fire gave him enough light to see by, although the smoke was getting thick. The wooden floors in the classrooms were burning, and as the fire got hotter, the heat would quickly lead to stress and cracking of the bricks and masonry. After that, the interior structure of the walls, mostly wood, would start to burn. Rhodes thought he had only a few minutes before that began to happen.
Not that it mattered because the smoke would likely get him first. Inhaling smoke for even a short time had ill effects, and Rhodes’s eyes, nose, and throat were already irritated. Things would only get worse, and they’d get worse fast.
Rhodes turned toward the meeting room, hoping he could find Wanda there and get her out quickly. He didn’t see her inside, and the floor was already burning. He had no other ideas about where she might be. He went back out into the hallway and called her name, without really expecting an answer, and he didn’t get one. His throat was scratchy, and he could hardly yell loud enough to be heard even a short distance away. The fire was making so much noise that even the strongest voice would be drowned out.
Rhodes had no idea about which room to try next. The offices? The auditorium? Another classroom? The auditorium had a lot of wood in it. All the seats were wood, and so was the stage. If someone had spread an accelerant, that would have been the place to start.
Rhodes had to open the door to get inside the auditorium. He pulled the sleeve of his shirt down over his hand to touch the metal handle and flung the door open as fast as he could. He didn’t think he’d blistered his hand.
Smoke billowed out and a blast of heat hit Rhodes like a fist. He forced himself inside and saw a little vision of hell. A line from some old song popped into his head, something about fire being the devil’s only friend. Many of the auditorium seats were aflame, as was the stage, and Rhodes could easily imagine the devil dancing with delight as the song put it.
The smoke was so thick that Rhodes wasn’t sure he’d be able to see Wanda even if she was there. He started down the aisle toward the stage and had gone only a few feet before he tripped over something and fell.
It didn’t take Rhodes long to figure out that the something he’d tripped over was a body, probably Wanda’s. Now t
hat he’d found her, he had to get her out. That wasn’t going to be easy. It wasn’t her size or weight that was the problem. It was the smoke.
At one time, Rhodes would have tried to pick Wanda up and use the fireman’s carry, but that was no longer considered the best practice, as he’d learned at a short course he’d taken at the Clearview Fire Department. Smoke became worse higher up, so it was better to keep the person down as low as possible, which meant dragging Wanda out by the shoulders. That way Rhodes would have to bend down, putting his own head lower, and dragging would use the strong muscles in Rhodes’s upper legs. It was a lot better than trying to put someone over his shoulders, and Rhodes started dragging Wanda up the aisle.
He could no longer see where he was going. He’d lost his phone when he fell, not that it would have done him much good if he’d had it. The aisle was straight, and he was able to follow it without getting burned on the seats. He got to the door well enough. He kicked it open and pulled Wanda into the hall, where the smoke wasn’t as bad and the fire wasn’t quite as hot.
It wasn’t far to the front door now, but Rhodes heard a creaking, tearing noise above him. He didn’t look up, but he knew what was about to happen. He tried to move faster, and then the ceiling started to come down. Flaming wood and masonry crashed all around, but only a few cinders landed on Rhodes. They singed him, but they didn’t set his clothing on fire. He kept moving.
He got a few feet farther and stumbled and fell. He wondered for a second if he’d be able to get up, but he did. Wanda hadn’t moved, and he thought she might be dead. He couldn’t leave her even if she was, so he began dragging her again.
He was tired and wasn’t sure he could make it outside, but he had to keep trying. He pulled Wanda a few more steps and was on the verge of collapse when someone took him by the shoulders and said, “I’ve got you. Les will get Wanda. Let’s get out of here.”
The angel had arrived after all, or two of them had, in the person of two of the Thurston volunteers in their fire-fighting outfits. Rhodes was glad to let them take over, and he allowed the man who was helping him get him outside.