Dead Broke in Jarrett Creek: A Samuel Craddock Mystery (Samuel Craddock Mysteries) (5 page)

“We discussed this matter last night,” Reinhardt says, “and if we turn it over to the city council, they’ll have to start from the beginning. Now I’ve got a proposal to make.” Reinhardt looks over at me, so everybody else looks my way, too. “I propose that we ask Samuel Craddock to become temporary chief of police on a one-dollar-a-year salary until such time as we have the money to pay a police chief.” He glances over at McClusky. “If the city council goes along with it, of course.”

McClusky claps his hands, beaming. “That’s the best idea I ever heard.”

Krueger glares at Reinhardt. “Looks like you two have this plot all worked out.”

“Now, Jim, I wouldn’t call it a plot,” Reinhardt says. “It makes it sound like we were going behind everybody’s back. I did ask Samuel if he’d be willing to help us out and he said he would, but that’s all the plotting that went into it.”

“Must be nice that he can afford to step in when my son is out,” Krueger says.

“I’d say that’s a reason to rejoice.” Marietta’s voice has an edge to it. “Especially if Samuel agrees to do it.”

“Do you all want me to leave the room while you discuss it?” I half rise from my chair.

“Samuel, sit down!” Reinhardt says. “You don’t need to go anywhere.” His eyes are flashing. “Any of you have any better suggestions? Like Marietta says, we’re damn lucky to have Craddock.”

Everyone perks up. Reinhardt is not usually one for cursing.

“I don’t believe she put it exactly like that,” I say. Everyone chuckles and the tension is broken.

“Seems to me Craddock is making a sacrifice for the town,” McClusky says. He opens his hands wide. “I know personally that when money gets tight, it’s up to those of us who are well-off to step in.” By far the wealthiest man in our community, McClusky probably gets hit up for money every time there’s a fundraiser for the football team or the senior center or the charity rodeo.

“If we do okay this, how is it going to work?” Krueger asks. “Don’t you have to pass it by the powers-that-be in Bobtail?”

“I talked to the sheriff only an hour ago,” Reinhardt says. “He said as long as a citizen’s committee gives the okay, he’ll rubber-stamp it. The county has an emergency provision that he can use.”

Oscar Grant nods over at me. “I say we’re lucky to have Craddock. And I move that we take up Rusty’s suggestion.”

“Any discussion?” At last night’s meeting Reinhardt was hesitant and unsure of himself. He seems to have suddenly found the gumption to be mayor.

No one says a word.

“All right. Let’s take a vote, asking Samuel Craddock to take over as chief of police until the town can start paying somebody again. Everybody in favor?”

It’s unanimous, although it takes Jim Krueger a few extra seconds to raise his hand.

People start to shuffle in their seats as if they’re ready to rush out of here. “Hold it,” I say. “Before you go, I want to ask a couple of questions. Did anybody see Dellmore leave last night?”

People dart glances at each other. A couple of them say he was here when they walked out.

“Anybody notice his car in the lot?”

“I saw his car when I left,” Jim Krueger says. “He was parked a little too close to me.” Krueger has a nervous habit of slicking back his thinning hair. “Why is that important?”

“Dellmore’s car is missing,” I say. “It wasn’t parked here when Carter found him this morning.”

“Whoever killed him must’ve taken the car,” Oscar says.

“Could be. But I’d appreciate it if you all would talk it up around town that if anyone sees Dellmore’s car, they should give me a call. One more thing. I want you all to think back if you heard or saw anything unusual last night. I know we were all in a hurry to get out of here, but give it some thought and let me know if something didn’t seem right to you.”

“You’re thinking somebody was hiding out there, waiting for Dellmore?” Oscar says.

“It’s as good a theory as any at the moment.” I don’t say what I expect most everybody is thinking—that it could also have been somebody in this room who killed Dellmore.

I walk out into the crisp winter air with a new purpose, remembering what always struck me as strange about being chief of police. Suddenly I’m set apart from the people I came in here with. It’s a lonely position in some ways. People aren’t as comfortable in your presence because most people have a little something to hide, even if it’s only that they are careless about stopping at stop signs.

Before when I was chief, I had Jeanne to go home to, always on my side whatever happened. With her gone, I’m going to be glad to have my friends Loretta and Jenny. As a lawyer, Jenny understands the sacrifice the law asks of you. And Loretta wouldn’t think of not stopping at stop signs.

Reinhardt comes out, locks up the building, and walks over to my pickup. “Let’s drive on over to Bobtail and get you sworn in.”

It’s my turn to bring the wine to Jenny’s house for our weekly date. Since Jenny introduced me to the pleasure of good wine, I’ve joined a wine club and enjoy the selections they send me, although I stick with the reds. I take a nice California pinot noir and some salami over to her place, to go along with our usual fare of cheese and crackers.

“Oh, Lord, what a week,” Jenny says. Her mass of red curls is loose for once and that makes her look younger. She has added a sweater to her customary after-work T-shirt and jeans and could be taken for a college student. She’s a big woman—not overweight—just tall and substantial. “I think there’s a good chance my client has been lying to me.”

We usually sit at the kitchen table, but tonight I feel the need to prop my knee up. I’ve overdone it today, and the knee feels sore. I sit in her big, stuffed easy chair with a footstool, and she settles back on her leather sofa.

We kick around her woes with her wayward client and then I fill her in on everything that happened this morning after Gary Dellmore’s body was discovered and the results of the afternoon meeting.

She tells me the news of Dellmore’s death was all over the courthouse in Bobtail. “How does it feel to be chief again, knowing you have to face that investigation?”

I know Jenny well enough that I trust her, but I’m not ready to admit to the way I really feel—past my prime and maybe biting off more than I can chew. I keep reminding myself that murder doesn’t happen all that often in a small town. But maybe I’m remembering the way things were in the past. In the last few years we’ve had quite a bit of mayhem. Greed, jealousy, and fear have always been around, but there seems to be more willingness to bring violence into the mix these days.

There are twice as many people in the county now as there were when I was chief the first time. People have moved in from Houston, bought big pieces of land out on the far side of the lake, and set up some fine houses. And maybe they’ve brought some of their city ways with them.

Jenny cups her ear and leans forward. “I’m not hearing words coming out. Or did you not hear the question?”

I laugh. “I heard you. I’m not sure I can answer yet.”

“Fair enough. I’ll rephrase my question. What’s your plan for figuring out who killed Gary Dellmore?”

Jenny pours us both a little more wine and then sits back and props her feet on the coffee table.

“Not much of a plan yet. Sort of playing it by ear. My first thought was that it was somebody who got bent out of shape at the meeting the other night. I’ll know more after I question everybody. I hope I can rule you out since you rode home with me. I suppose you didn’t walk back over there and kill him and steal his car.”

“What do you mean ‘steal his car’?”

I tell her about his missing car.

“I can’t say I liked the man, but he and I didn’t cross paths enough for me to have a reason to kill him, and I have a perfectly good car of my own.” Jenny drives an SUV that’s a lot newer than mine.

I’m only half-joking when I tell her Loretta’s suggestion that Gabe LoPresto shot Gary. “She said maybe Gary was sniffing around Gabe’s girlfriend. At first I made fun of her for jumping to conclusions, but I’ve had second thoughts.”

“What second thoughts?”

“Remember we overheard Dellmore arguing with someone after the meeting? I couldn’t hear clearly, but that voice could have been LoPresto’s.”

“When have you ever known Gabe LoPresto to speak quietly? If it was him, he would’ve been talking as loud as Dellmore.”

I reply with a grunt. I’m annoyed with myself for not paying more attention to my surroundings when we left the meeting. I should have noticed who was leaving when Jenny and I did—then I’d know who Dellmore was talking to. Of course, at the time I didn’t realize it would be important.

“Come to think of it, I’m surprised you didn’t ask LoPresto to be on the committee,” Jenny says.

“Even at his best, LoPresto can be pushy. I thought one person like that on the committee was enough. Besides, with LoPresto leaving his wife and taking up with Darla Rodriguez, I’m beginning to think he doesn’t have good sense.”

“I’d be inclined to agree with you,” Jenny says.

“Tell you the truth, I wouldn’t really have thought that Gabe would take up with a young girl like that. Or her with him. What she sees in LoPresto is beyond me.”

Jenny laughs. “As I recall he struts himself around like a rooster.”

“That would pretty much describe him.”

“I don’t know Darla Rodriguez, but I’ll bet I can guess what attracts her to him. He owns that big construction company, and she may think he’s a good catch. Bottom line, she’s after his money.”

“He does pretty well, but his wife, Sandy, has let it be known that if he divorces her for Darla, he’s going to walk away without a dime.”

This sends Jenny into a fit of laughter. I can’t help laughing with her. “Why is that funny?” I say.

“The idea of those two women fighting over Gabe LoPresto. Now if they’d been arguing over Gary Dellmore, I could see it.”

“You and every other woman in town.”

“So why didn’t Darla go after Dellmore? He’s got money, too.”

“I couldn’t tell you.”

“Or Slate McClusky? He’s the one with real money.”

“You’d have to ask her all these subtle questions.”

Jenny asks me for the specifics of what happened to bring Jarrett Creek to the edge of financial ruin. “I was surprised when Marietta Bryant told us how bad it was,” she says. “But she didn’t say why.”

“It’s not hard to follow. Same thing that happened to a lot of small towns in the last few years. When the economy went bad, some businesses went under, people lost their jobs and couldn’t pay their mortgages, and they lost their houses, so the tax base contracted. Alton Coldwater thought he could attract some new business by renovating those streets downtown—and that cost money.”

“It actually looks nice, though.”

“Yes, and it has brought in a few new stores lately, but not in time to shore up the city’s finances.”

“So that’s when somebody had the bright idea to build a water park out at the lake?” She shakes her head. “What a hare-brained scheme!”

“You think so? Everybody was all excited about it at the time, but maybe that’s because Coldwater talked it up big.”

“Seems to me somebody would have figured out that the town didn’t have the money to service the loan and keep paying its employees at the same time.”

“Well, that’s all water under the bridge. We’re in trouble now, and it’s going to take a while to recover. I admire Rusty for trying to figure out a way to keep city services going with volunteers. I hope it works.”

Before I know it, it’s late and I’m yawning. I get up and realize I’ve made a mistake that my doctor warned me against—I’ve been on my feet way too much today. My knee has swelled up, and it hurts to put weight on it.

“What’s the matter with you?” Jenny says.

I tell her my knee is flaring up.

“You can stay here. It won’t be the first time.” I stayed at her place for several days after someone tried to burn down my house last year. She saw the flames and called the fire department before the fire could get too far, but not before my house was so smoked up that I couldn’t stay there for a while.

I pick up my hat. “I’d better get on home, if you can lend me a hand. Tomorrow morning I’ve got a job to do.”

It’s a good thing she’s got some heft to her, because I have to lean on her to get back to my house. She fetches me an icepack for the knee and I take a couple of pills for the swelling. When I lie down with my knee all trussed up, I feel pretty sorry for myself.