Between the Living and the Dead (29 page)
Read Between the Living and the Dead Online
Authors: Bill Crider
“Wasn't too sure you would. That other sheriff didn't find her. It's a funny thing, though.”
“What's funny?”
“I been bothered for years by them radio waves, and a day or so ago, they just stopped.” Turner touched his baseball cap. “Best I've felt in years.”
“I don't think it was radio waves,” Rhodes said, thinking of the electromagnetic waves measured by Seepy Benton and Harry Harris.
“What was it, then?” Turner asked.
“Do you believe in ghosts?” Rhodes asked.
Turner gave a short laugh. “Not me. Once you cross over, you don't come back. Ain't that right?”
“I used to think so,” Rhodes said. “Now I'm not so sure.”
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Rhodes arrested Turner, took him to jail, and got him booked without any problems. Turner was compliant and resigned, which made it easy. The problems started after the booking, when Jennifer Loam came in.
“I heard on the scanner that you were bringing in a prisoner, Sheriff,” she said. “I thought I'd come by and see if you had a scoop for me.”
“He sure does,” Hack said before Rhodes had a chance to open his mouth. “Not only did he bring in the man who shot Neil Foshee, but he's solved a murder that nobody's even known about for forty years and found a missin' person that nobody even knew was missin'. I'd like to see Sage Barton do that. He might have a matched pair of pistols, but he ain't ever managed to do anything close to what the sheriff just did.”
“Amazing,” Jennifer said. “Is all that true, Sheriff?”
“Well,” Rhodes said.
“Sure it's true,” Hack said, “and that's just what happened. I got a mind like a steel trap, and not a bit of rust on it.”
Jennifer brought out her little video camera and aimed it at Rhodes. “I'd like to get a statement from you, Sheriff. Tell me a little about what you've done.”
“He can't tell it as good as I can,” Hack said.
“He's right,” Rhodes said. “I can't. Turn that thing on him. He'll fill you in.”
“Durn right I will,” Hack said, but he was prevented from telling the story when the phone rang. Hack answered it, and Jennifer smiled at Rhodes.
“Looks like it's up to you,” she said.
Rhodes couldn't see any way to get out of it, so he told the story as succinctly as he could. He didn't make any mention of the strangeness he'd felt in the old house, and he didn't say that Brad Turner no longer needed to line his hat with tinfoil. He certainly didn't mention ghosts.
Jennifer didn't let him get away with it. “Dr. Benton and Dr. Harris, our local version of the Ghostbusters, claim that you were led to the skeleton of Mrs. Turner by her ghost. Do you have any comment on that?”
Rhodes thought it over. “I didn't see a ghost,” he said.
“They said that their instruments showed a ghostly presence.”
“I'm not an expert on those instruments,” Rhodes said. “I'll have to leave that interpretation up to the good doctors.”
“Would you endorse their services?” Jennifer asked.
“As a county official, I can't give endorsements.”
“You'll have to admit that it was unusual for you to find a skeleton that had been undiscovered for forty or more years, won't you?”
“I don't think anybody else ever looked,” Rhodes said. “There was no reason to.”
Hack was motioning for Rhodes to pick up the phone, so he excused himself from the interview and did so. Wade Clement was on the line.
“I called to ask if it would be all right for me to leave town today, Sheriff,” Wade said. “Your dispatcher's been filling me in on what's happened, so I guess I can go. Is that right?”
“That's right,” Rhodes said. “The Foshee case is closed.”
“I'm glad to hear it. The whole thing was a lot more complicated than I thought it would be. In fact, small-town law enforcement is a lot more complicated than I thought it would be. I'm going to write that paper I told you about, but I have a whole new perspective now. I want to thank you for that.”
“We're here to help,” Rhodes said.
“Yes, I guess you are, and I appreciate that now. Thanks again.”
Rhodes hung up thinking that Wade was probably going to turn out all right. He wouldn't be messing around in police business anymore, no matter where he was. Not for a while, anyway.
After Rhodes got off the phone, Jennifer Loam asked him another couple of questions and then left.
“Oughta be a good story on her Web site later today,” Hack said. “Would've been better if I'd got to tell it, though.”
“I don't doubt it,” Rhodes said.
“I'd've put the ghosts in it.”
“That might've been too scary for her readers.”
“Shows what you know,” Hack said. “I'm one of her readers. We ain't afraid of no ghosts.”
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
The rest of the day went by without anything strange or stressful happening. Rhodes even got to have lunch.
He got home that afternoon before Ivy did. He fed the cats, then took Yancey out back for some fun with Speedo. When Ivy came home, they went out for dinner, this time to the Jolly Tamale for Mexican food. It was a good day all the way around.
That evening when they were getting ready for bed, the telephone rang.
“It's Hack,” Ivy said. “I know it is.”
Rhodes answered the phone, and of course Ivy was right.
“Got a problem,” Hack said.
“Why am I not surprised?” Rhodes said.
“Don't try to tell me you were asleep,” Hack said. “It's not even ten o'clock yet.”
“Just tell me the problem.”
“Vernell's goats,” Hack said.
Vernell Lindsey was a local romance writer, and she had three pet goats named Shirley, Goodness, and Mercy. Sometimes they caused problems.
“What's the matter with the goats?” Rhodes asked.
“They got out again. One of 'em's already butted in the side of a car. I called Alton Boyd, and he said he'd meet you at the jail. You better come on down.”
“Why me?”
“He says he can't corral those goats all by himself. Gotta have a helper. All the deputies are busy, so you're elected.”
“All right,” Rhodes said. “I'll be there in fifteen minutes.”
He hung up and told Ivy what the trouble was.
“Are you sure you want to go after those goats in the dark? If one of them butts you, you could get hurt.”
Rhodes started to say something, opened his mouth, and then closed it.
“What is it?” Ivy asked.
Rhodes grinned. “I ain't afraid of no goats,” he said.
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B
ILL
C
RIDER
is the winner of two Anthony Awards and an Edgar Award finalist. An English professor for many years, he's published more than seventy-five crime, Western, and horror novels. In 2010 he was inducted into the Texas Literary Hall of Fame. He lives with his wife in Alvin, Texas.
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Learn more at
www.billcrider.com
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A
LSO
BY
B
ILL
C
RIDER
SHERIFF
DAN
RHODES
MYSTERIES
Half in Love with Artful Death
Death by Accident
Winning Can Be Murder
Murder Most Fowl
Booked for a Hanging
Evil at the Root
Death on the Move
Cursed to Death
Shotgun Saturday Night
Too Late to Die
PROFESSOR
SALLY
GOOD
MYSTERIES
PROFESSOR
CARL
BURNS
MYSTERIES
⦠A Dangerous Thing
Dying Voices
One Dead Dean
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Contents
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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously.
A THOMAS DUNNE BOOK FOR MINOTAUR BOOKS.
An imprint of St. Martin's Publishing Group.
BETWEEN THE LIVING AND THE DEAD.
Copyright © 2015 by Bill Crider. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
Cover illustration by Ben Perini
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The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:
Crider, Bill, 1941â