by Ryan Bright
I walked slowly through the barn lot being extra careful to avoid the bigger manure piles and made my way to the open gate the tractor would come through to exit the field. Sam waved from the tractor seat as he passed and motioned to shut the gate. I pulled it shut but couldn’t figure out how to fasten the chain correctly.
Sam climbed out of the stopped tractor to offer some help. “This is how we know strangers have been here.” he told me as he wrapped the chain clockwise around the fence post the gate butted against and hooked it on a nail. “They don’t know how to put stuff back like it’s supposed to be.”
He wrapped his fingers around the top bar of the gate and leaned slightly against it like he was doing upright pushups and watched the black and white cows eating the hay. One of the cows stood off away from the others and every time she went in for a bite the biggest one would nudge her away. “You find out who spooked the bull, yet?” he asked never looking away from the cattle.
I didn’t answer quickly. Part of being a good detective was knowing when to talk and when to listen. “I’ve got some leads I’m working on. How are things here?”
“We’re making it. Momma...well, it’s just hard, you know?” His fingers turned whiter as he gripped the bar more. “Daddy’s funeral is tomorrow.” Sam finally turned to look at me. “If I could just tell him who did it ‘fore they shoveled dirt on him I know he’d appreciate it.”
“Listen, I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” I told him sternly. “I dig until I find the truth wherever that leads me. You understand?” I can do lots of things and I can even do miracles from time to time, but I don’t guarantee anything with time limits.
Sam nodded slightly and turned his eyes back to the boss cow that was running the smaller one off again.
“Was there anybody your dad was feuding with? Anyone he owed money to or didn’t get along with?”
He kept staring at the cows. “No, daddy got along with everybody well enough, I reckon. He doesn’t owe nobody money; our land is paid for.”
His next thought was interrupted by my cell phone ringing. I held it up while the ring crackled on and I could see on the caller id that it was Kincaid, the mayor, calling. “Hello? Hello? Can you hear me?” The phone beeped at me and the display showed signal fade with no bars at the antennae symbol.
“That’s one thing daddy tried to remedy out here and make a little money on the side. But it fell through,” Sam said, pointing at my worthless phone.
“How’s that?”
“Well, we was supposed to get a cell tower put up there high on the ridge and get coverage to everyone around here. No more dropped calls and such. The best part was the contract for the tower. Daddy would’ve gotten good money for that and even more so if other carriers decided to use to the tower, too. He even talked about getting more cows.”
“What happened?” I pressed.
Sam looked down and spit into the dusty ground disgusted. “Shoot, we don’t know. We had everything ready to go, contract ready to sign and all, and then the permit to build didn’t go through from the county. We were denied like that cow up there that can’t get enough to eat.” He shook his head and continued. “Dan Rogers. That’s who got the tower instead of us. I don’t know why.”
“Worth looking into.” I added the name to the app I used for a notepad. At least that part of my cell phone was useful here. “You never know where this might take us.”
Chapter 5
The county courthouse was located on the west side of the town square so you could watch the sunset over the clock built into the top of it. Of course the clock stopped working ten years ago and the county hadn’t been able to fix it since the previous mayor was caught embezzling taxpayer money. It is perpetually at 5:03, so it really must be five o’clock somewhere.
The planning commissioner’s office was in the new addition to the courthouse, or at least that’s what everyone still calls what was built on in the late 70’s. I passed his office often when I was headed to court, but had never stopped in. Of course today, when I actually wanted to go in, I found the door knob locked and the lights off in the planning office.
The tax assessor’s office was immediately across the hall and through the door’s window I could see a woman sitting behind a desk talking on a phone. She smiled and held up a finger to wait when I entered. “He’s out of the office today, but I’ll be sure and give him the message. Thank you.” She hung up the phone and smiled again. “How can I help you, Mr..?”
“John Steele.”
She raised her thin black eyebrows questioning me. “The detective?” I could hear the “really” that she didn’t actually say.
“That’s me.” I admitted, looking on her at her slender tanned arms and face and wondered where the tan line ended. “I’m looking for McGregory, the planning commissioner, across the hall. Do you know when he’ll be back in his office?”
She said, “He’s out for day surgery, I think, and won’t be back until at least tomorrow. Is there anything else I could help you with?” I wanted to think there was a smile for emphasis, but I couldn’t be sure.
“You don’t happen to know who the chairman of that board is, do you?”
“Let's see.” She glanced down at her computer and punched a few keys. “David Fenters is the chairman of the board if you have to find someone to ask questions to today,” she said, pushing her long straight hair back out of her face.
“I do.”
She grabbed a business card and started writing on the back. I noticed the right finger was bare. She held the card up to me. “Here’s his number and address on the back. Mine’s on the front. Call me if you need any more help.”
I could think of several reasons why I would need her help and none involved this case. So what if she was a few years younger than me. Doesn’t me being almost forty show I’m finally mature, or is it the grey creeping up around my temples? My shallow side hoped that the gym membership I picked up after the divorce paid off just now.
###
David Fenters lived on Hackenbush Road. I was familiar with the address because I had solved a double murder there a year ago. A breaking and entering gone bad with the thief and homeowners in a short gunfight or at least that was what it looked like. I figured out the husband had actually walked in on a guy and his wife, shot them both, and tried to cover it up. Dave’s house was further down the road.
I read mailbox numbers as I closed in on Fenter’s address until I got a call. Sometimes cellphones are damnable things like when they have a good signal they ring. At least caller id does some detective work for you so you’re not surprised when you ex calls. “Hello, Carol. How are you today?”
The former love of my life had no love for me today. “John, what did you do to Daniel? He says you’re trying to cover something up about the break-in.” She was using her how-could-you voice again.
“Nothing. I had a look around and left. I didn’t find anything. Sorry.”
“Listen,” she said, “just don’t talk to him. Okay? And Dale’s on the warpath for you, too. Says that farmer’s death wasn’t a homicide and you shouldn’t be leading that boy on.”
Looks like Dale has some new sources of information I don’t know about. “I’ve gotta go. I’m on a case.”
Sometimes we can talk without fighting. It doesn’t help that in a small town you can’t exactly get away and not see one another like passing cars on the street. In our case the cars were going in opposite directions. It also doesn’t help that she works at the Justice Center with her brother the sheriff. I’ve been in car wrecks that have helped more.
I got off the phone just in time to read Fenter’s street number on his mailbox. He had a small grey rancher with a two car garage. There was plenty going on at Fenter’s house. A truck with a new fishing boat and trailer were parked on the driveway and a slightly overweight man in his late sixties was checking the hitch as I pulled up. He turned and stared at me suspiciously as anyone would do a stranger.
“What do you want?” he growled as I stepped out of the vic.
I let his attitude roll off. “Mr. Fenters I’m John Steele. I came to talk to you about the cell phone tower going in at Dan Rogers’.”
Fenters mumbled something under his breath. “You’re welcome. Everyone’s glad it’s going in. I’ve got work to do. Thanks for stopping by.” He turned back toward the hitch believing this conversation was over.
“I’m glad it’s being put in, but I wanted to know why the planning board denied the site at the Thompson farm and approved it for Rogers.” I took a few steps closer to him. Too close as I got a whiff of a man in need of some Right Guard.
“I don’t remember the details. Go ask McGregory. He’s the commissioner. Or go ask Rogers. I’m just a volunteer.” He turned back to finish hooking up the safety chains from the trailer to the truck and attempted to end the conversation again.
“Well, you are the chairman of the board and I’m betting you remember what happened very well. Why’d you turn down the request from Thompson to get the tower on his land? I heard you cast the deciding vote.” It wasn’t a bluff. I had stopped off at Aunt Mabel’s Tea and Coffee Shop for a glass of blackberry sweet tea and used the free Wi-Fi there to do some research on the minutes from the meeting.
He didn’t turn around. “I don’t have time for this, boy. Go on and bother somebody else.”
“That was a terrible murder up the road from here last year.” I waited for him to comment and continued when he didn’t say anything. “I helped solve that case. You see, I’m a detective. A private detective.”
He ignored me and began inspecting the contents in the toolbox on the bed of his truck.
“The police thought it was an open shut case, but the wife’s sister thought otherwise. I ended doing background checks on everyone up and down this road to see if I could find motivation.” I watched Fenters pause his search in the toolbox. “How’d you afford this boat, Fenters? You filed bankruptcy about that time and the bank nearly foreclosed on your house.” I patted the side of the new boat gently. “You don’t have this kind of money.”
“Come inside.” It was all he said and I followed him into the house.
You never know where a line of questioning might lead you. Your best friend might lie to you if you ask certain questions. But if you keep pushing the right buttons you’ll eventually get all the answers. Fenters became a button I planned to push until I got everything I wanted.
We entered the back door which led to a cramped kitchen in the old ranch house. Fenters was definitely alone because the dirty floors and bags of trash by the door screamed the place was lacking a woman’s touch. He opened a cabinet door above the stove and pulled down a bottle of whiskey and took a long draw of it. He didn’t offer to share and I wouldn’t have taken any if did.
“Shit. Let’s get this over with. Are you after me?” He chewed on his fat lower lip and looked at me over. Sometimes if you corner a man he becomes an animal that fights you until he’s bested and other times he’ll simply give up. The attitude was gone from his voice. His pudgy face had been sour, but now it just looked tired.
I leaned against the round kitchen table careful not to knock off what looked like to be dirty dishes left over from lunch. “No, this isn’t about you,” I told him calmly. “I only want to know about why you let Rogers have the cell phone tower.”
“Look,” he said holding out his empty hand, “I got next to nothing. This is it.” He gestured around the room. “You know I got next to nothing,” and he tilted his head at me before taking another swig. He wiped his mouth with his hairy arm. “A man like Rogers makes an offer to a man in my position, and I say who gets hurt? Right?” He gave me a sideways look like a dog waiting for the master to throw him a bone for performing a trick.
“Thompson got hurt. He’s dead.” I watched the color drain from his face and he took another gulp from the bottle.
“I ain’t got anything to do with that,” he shuddered. “I just helped a man out, that’s all.” He said it more to convince himself than me.
I stuck my thumb back towards the boat. “You got a boat out of it, didn’t you?” I asked, my voice growing louder. “When you put your hand down in the mud and muck to get something out you arm doesn’t come back clean. It stays dirty. And it just gets worse.”
“Dan’s old. He’s got a boy that stays in trouble all the time. You know the type,” he said almost pleadingly. “Dan wanted to do something for the boy so he could have some constant income when he died and wouldn’t be able to fool it away.” Fenters sniffled back some serious snot in his nose, coughed, and spit in the sink without washing it down. “What else do you want from me?”
I let it hang in the air for almost a minute and let him stand there and sweat. Money can point you in the right direction like a billboard on the interstate, but you have to find the money first. Fenters finally took another swig from the whiskey bottle.
“Nothing else. Thanks for your time,” I said as I walked out, “but if I were you I’d make sure I had a good lawyer.”
Chapter 6
I had my cell phone set on alarm only, but the screen still lights up when a call comes in and that was what woke me up at six a.m. I squinted my eyes several times before I could make out Kincaid on the caller id. “Are you trying to beat the roosters out of their job?” I asked him warily. The sheets pulled slightly away from me as Dana, the secretary with no tan lines, rolled toward the far side of the bed.
“Did you burn down the Hayes house, John?” Kincaid’s voice was too loud for me to hear without having coffee yet.
“Who?” I managed to say.
“You did,” his voice trailed off.
I turned around to see Dana buttoning up her blouse. She held her hand like a phone and mouthed, “Call me.” I nodded and smiled and watched her slip out.
“John, I can’t cover for you like old times,” he sighed on the other end.
The old times were back before he was mayor and he was serving as the district attorney. We were a good team. As a private detective I could do things the police weren’t allowed to do when they needed something done, and he would return the favor by helping me out on my cases. It wasn’t all business though, our wives were best friends and we often shared time together.
They say kids change relationships, but I never imagined his kids would ruin mine. Kincaid and his wife popped out children like rabbits. Carol couldn’t handle being around them after we found out we couldn’t have any. That was what pushed our marriage over the cliff. I didn’t talk much to him or Amy anymore.
“You can’t go around acting like it’s the Wild West and you’re the marshal,” Kincaid lectured.
“All I did was give him a ride out of town. Like any good Samaritan would do. Maybe he left the stove on or something,” I suggested.
“I don’t expect the fire marshal to find anything. But if he does...” he paused, letting the comment linger. “You know Brookshire doesn’t like you anymore. He’ll get your license if he wants to.”
“Hey, can you tell me anything about Dan Rogers and his son?” I asked, changing the subject. If I’m going to be woke up early and be told my business then I might as well get something out of it.
“Yes, the boy’s name is...it’s...Charlie. He’s been in and out on possession charges. He’s stole and sold most of Dan’s stuff so he could get high.”
I had finally made it to the kitchen and began brewing some coffee while he talked. “Interesting. What about Dan? What’s his story?”
“You remember him. He’s the guy that tried to start up the solar power grid up on Burnt Pine Ridge. He lost a butt load of money when the Chinese production plant he was buying from went belly-up and took his money with them. I was completely against letting the county invest in him and proven right in the long run.” Kincaid was a numbers guy and most of the time it paid off for him.
The gears in my brain were slowly starting to turn.
Burnt Pine Ridge was only one valley over from Thompson’s farm. Maybe I was slowly closing in on the last dot. “Thanks, Jerry.”
“What’re you so interested in them for?” he asked.
“I’ll call you when I find out.”
“Don’t call me. Call Brookshire.” he said, exasperated. “You’ve got to start getting along with him after...” he paused, “after Carol. You need him and he could use your help sometimes whether he’d admit it or not.
My phone beeped and interrupted him. “Listen, I’ve got another call coming through. Catch you later.” Brookshire? Like I wanted to make amends with Sheriff Dale. I switched lines. “Steele, here”
“Hey man, this is Chris! I think I’ve got a lead for you,” the gun shop owner said.
“What is it?” I asked while pouring my first cup of coffee.
“I had a guy call me up a few minutes ago wanting to know when I opened. Said he had some ammo to sell me. I don’t buy bullets from anybody but dealers, but I decided to humor him and ask what he gots. He says he gots bee bullets!” Chris chuckled heartily and I bumped the volume down on my phone one notch. “I told him bring ‘em on in and I’d have a look at ‘em. I figured you’d want to know about this.”
Well, well, well. “I’ll be on over and waiting in the parking lot watching for him. When he leaves the store text me. I’m sure you’d rather me take care of my business outside.”
“Sounds good. I’ll put this on your tab,” Chris laughed again.
“I’ll pay for this and the bazooka at the same time,” I replied.
Chris laughed again and hung up the phone.
I don’t play the lottery or have much use for chance, but I do believe in my gut. My gut said this guy is either the Rogers boy or whoever broke into Keys house or both. I poured a second cup of coffee for the road.