The Wild Hog Murders (21 page)

“I read the story in the paper,” Rhodes said.

“Garver didn’t make it thirty years, I guess. You want me to check up on his story to see if he’s telling the truth?”

“Absolutely,” Rhodes said.

“If he is, what are we going to do about it?”

“Nothing,” Rhodes said. “He doesn’t want to go back, and I’m not going to make him. I don’t want to be responsible for what might happen.”

“We have to let his family know he’s alive,” Ruth said. “They’re suffering.”

Rhodes didn’t think so, but he said, “I’ll talk to him in a day or two about it. I’ll see to it that he lets them know.” Rhodes didn’t have any idea how he was going to do that, but he’d figure it out later. “Right now, he’s still a suspect in the killings. Did you happen to turn up any connection between him and Baty?”

“Nothing like that. No connection to those bank robberies, either, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“That doesn’t mean that there wasn’t one. Keep digging around and see if you can find anything else.”

“I’ll try,” Ruth said. “Will you be around?”

“I have some people to see,” Rhodes said, “but I’ll check back later.”

“You’re leaving me here with those two?” Ruth asked, looking around at Hack and Lawton.

“Best-looking two men in town,” Hack said. “You know you like it.”

“There you go,” Rhodes said, and he left her there.

*   *   *

Bob Lindsey, the station manager of KCLR—“the Mighty K-Clear,” as its slogan had it—was in his office when Rhodes showed up. He had short gray hair cut in a military flattop. He wasn’t the only man in town who favored that style, though none of them had been around when it was first popular.

The office was in one of the few downtown buildings still in decent condition. Most of the others hadn’t been kept up over the years, and at least half of them were deserted. The windows were cracked and dirty, and the old awnings sagged.

Across the street, the new offices of Randy Lawless glistened white in the sun. Lawless had bought half a city block after some of the old buildings had been demolished, and he’d built what Rhodes referred to as the Lawj Mahal. It was by far the most impressive building in the old downtown, mainly because it was the only new building there.

“You must never get tired of looking at that place,” Rhodes said to Lindsey, who could see the Lawj Mahal from his office window.

“I don’t even think about it anymore, Sheriff, but I’ll bet you didn’t come by to discuss the local architecture.”

Lindsey was tall and thin and looked like a former college basketball player who’d been on a diet. He seemed a little nervous to have Rhodes in his office.

“No, architecture wasn’t what I had in mind,” Rhodes said.

“Have a seat, then, and tell me what you’re here for.”

Rhodes sat in an upholstered wing chair that looked about a hundred years old. Nearly everything in Lindsey’s office looked old, as if it might have been a part of the building’s original furnishings. The rolltop desk pushed up against the wall to Rhodes’s right was new, though. Either that or it had been well cared for.

Lindsey sat in the swivel desk chair and turned to face Rhodes.

“I want to talk to you about Milton Munday,” Rhodes said.

Lindsey brushed a hand across his flattop. “Look, Sheriff, I know Munday steps on a lot of toes, including yours, but I have him on a tight leash. There’s a line I won’t let him cross. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“I’m not worried, and I’m all for freedom of speech. Munday can say whatever he wants to say.”

“Oh.” Lindsey relaxed a bit. “What about him, then?”

“I was wondering how you went about hiring a talk show host. Do you advertise for one? Do you put out the word informally? Do you have tryouts? That kind of thing.”

Lindsey relaxed even more and leaned back in the chair. It had a tight spring and didn’t tip over with him.

“It’s a funny thing about that,” he said. “I wasn’t even thinking about having a talk show again. Red Rogers was good, and he got us some good ratings, but after he, you know, got killed, I couldn’t really work up any interest in trying a talk show again.”

Rhodes did know. Rogers had been murdered, and Rhodes had solved the case.

“You did try again, though,” Rhodes said.

“Yes. I got a letter from Milton Munday. A package, actually. It had an audition disc in it. I suspect he sent them out to a lot of stations, but most of the station managers don’t bother to listen to an unsolicited disc. I’m not sure why I did, to tell you the truth.”

“You must have liked what you heard.”

“I did. It was better than I’d expected. A good bit better. You’ve heard Munday, I’m sure.”

Rhodes nodded.

“Then you know why I was interested,” Lindsey said. “He has a fine radio voice, and while he’s not polished, he’s very good at getting his point across. So I had him come in for a tryout.”

“Come in from where?” Rhodes asked.

“I don’t remember. He’d worked at some little station somewhere, though.”

“You didn’t do a background check? Find out why he’d left his last job?”

Rhodes found it hard to believe that anyone got hired these days without someone doing at least a cursory Internet check on him. Maybe a small-town station could afford not to worry about who was hired, but Rhodes couldn’t see it that way. It didn’t bother Lindsey, however.

“I didn’t need to check on him,” Lindsey said. “He was good, and we hadn’t had a talk show for a while. I thought I’d let him try it for two weeks and see what happened. Turned out very well for both him and the station, so I kept him on.”

“You didn’t check with the station where he’d been before to find out why he’d left?”

“He told me he was just looking for a new challenge in a different location.”

“It had been his lifelong dream to be a talk show host in Clearview, Texas?”

“Look,” Lindsey said, “I told you he’d probably applied in a lot of different places. He just happened to wind up here, and he was a good fit for us. I didn’t see any reason to worry about him.”

Rhodes thought that was a poor business practice, but he didn’t mention it. He said, “Is Milton Munday his real name?”

“No. It’s just his air name. He’s probably had others.”

“So who do you make the paychecks to?”

“Ralph King.”

“That’s not a bad name for a radio personality,” Rhodes said. “Ralph, King of the Airwaves.”

“We don’t talk much about the airwaves these days,” Lindsey said.

“I guess not. You’re sure King is his real name? Something doesn’t sound right about it.”

“He has a Social Security number,” Lindsey said.

As if that proved anything. Willie Dalton could tell Lindsey a thing or two about how easy it was to get a fake ID.

Rhodes stood up. “I guess that’s all I wanted to know,” he said. “I appreciate your taking time to talk to me.”

Lindsey stood, too, and stuck out his hand. Rhodes shook it.

“I don’t know what you were looking for,” Lindsey said, “but I get the feeling I wasn’t much help.”

“I don’t know what I was looking for, either,” Rhodes said. “Maybe I’ll figure it out.”

Lindsey grinned. “Good luck,” he said.

Chapter 20

Just as Rhodes got in the county car, the radio crackled. Hack came on to let him know that Buddy had located Rapper.

“Least he thinks he has. He heard from a fella in Obert that someone’s holed up at the Boynton place. You ever been out that way?”

“I can find it,” Rhodes said. “It’s just outside the town, isn’t it?”

“That’s right. County Road 118. Buddy’s on the way out there, and he says he’ll meet you where 117 dead-ends into 118. It’ll take him about fifteen minutes.”

“All right. You get in touch with Ruth and have her run a check on Milton Munday. Also known as Ralph King. See if she can find out anything.”

“You got it in for him?”

“No, but I want to know more about him. He seems a little anxious to me. Maybe he’s mixed up in this Baty mess somehow.”

“You never know, I guess,” Hack said. “You headin’ out to Obert now?”

“You know how Buddy is. Sometimes he gets overeager. You tell him not to do a single thing until I get out there to Obert. I’m going to stop off at Seepy Benton’s house on the way if he’s home. I want to have a word with him.”

“Don’t hurt him,” Hack said. “He didn’t know any better than to bail out those Eccles cousins.”

“I’ll be gentle,” Rhodes said.

*   *   *

Benton’s Saturn was parked in the driveway by his house. One of the Eccles pickups, the red one, was parked beside it. Rhodes pulled in behind them and stopped. When he got out of his car, he heard Benton talking to someone in the backyard, so he went on around without being invited.

Benton, Lance, and Hugh were sitting in lawn chairs, drinking Dr Pepper from cans. Rhodes supposed Lance and Hugh were admiring the Golden Rectangle while Benton explained the mathematics of it to them.

Bruce lay at the foot of Lance’s chair. Rhodes had the feeling that Bruce would understand as much about the Golden Rectangle’s mathematical intricacies as anybody there other than Benton.

Or maybe not. Maybe Lance and Hugh were better at math than Rhodes thought. Whatever they were discussing, Rhodes hoped they’d offer him a Dr Pepper. He’d missed lunch again, and he thought a Dr Pepper would perk him up a little.

Bruce raised his head and saw Rhodes. He gave a friendly bark, lowered his head, and closed his eyes. His behavior had certainly changed for the better since Benton had adopted him.

“Good afternoon, Sheriff,” Benton said. “We were just talking about you.”

“I’ll bet,” Rhodes said.

Lance and Hugh eyed him and didn’t say anything. He got the impression that they’d rather have had a couple of beers than the Dr Peppers.

Benton stood up. “Want a Dr Pepper, Sheriff?”

“I can’t stay long,” Rhodes said. Benton started to sit back down. “I can take it with me, though.”

“I’ll get you one,” Benton said.

He went into the house, leaving Rhodes alone with Lance, Hugh, and the dog. Only the dog seemed friendly.

“How’s it feel to be back in the free world?” Rhodes asked.

“Better’n that jail,” Hugh said. “That Milton Munday let us down.”

“Naw, he didn’t,” Lance said. “He mentioned us. That’s why Dr. Benton came and set us free.”

“Didn’t say anything about us getting the tar beat out of us,” Hugh said. “We might have to file suit against you and the county, Sheriff. No hard feelin’s. Just want to see justice done.”

“I understand,” Rhodes said. “It might be hard to find a lawyer, though.”

“Never can tell,” Hugh said.

Benton came back out with a can of Dr Pepper with a paper towel wrapped around the lower half. He handed the can to Rhodes. The can felt cold even through the paper towel, which was slightly wet. Rhodes popped the top and took a sip. The Dr Pepper was colder than the can, and it felt good going down.

“I guess you wonder why I bailed those two out,” Benton said. “I asked for you to call so I could explain.”

“I was passing by,” Rhodes said, “so I thought I’d stop in instead of calling.”

“I’m glad you did.” Benton glanced over his shoulder at the Eccles cousins. “They aren’t as bad as they seem.”

“They’re bad enough,” Rhodes said.

“We can hear you,” Hugh said. “We’re not all that bad. Bruce likes us.”

Hearing his name, the dog looked up again, and Hugh rubbed his head.

“See?” Benton said. “They’ve promised they’ll stay out of trouble from now on.”

“Except for suing me and the county?”

“I was just joking,” Hugh said, more for Benton’s benefit than Rhodes’s.

“Sure you were,” Rhodes said. “The question is, are you going to tell me what happened the other night while you were hunting?”

“Nothing happened,” Lance said.

“I know better than that,” Rhodes said. He drank a little Dr Pepper. “I know somebody showed up and there was some shooting. I hear you hunters didn’t start it but that somebody shot back. I wonder who did that.”

“I ain’t sayin’ it happened like that,” Hugh told him, “but even if it did, we didn’t do any shootin’. Ain’t that right, Lance?”

“That’s sure enough right, Hugh.”

“Then who did?” Rhodes asked.

“We couldn’t tell,” Lance said. “We were too scared of all them hogs that got stirred up, not to mention bullets flyin’ all around. Hugh and me, we jumped into a little patch of yaupon bushes and stayed there till things calmed down. Then we got out of there. So did everybody else.”

That was pretty much the same story that Dalton had told, and Rhodes was beginning to think it might have been close to the truth. It still didn’t help him with the murder of Baty. Any one of them could have done it, though he couldn’t think why they would have.