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Authors: Bill Crider
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charges.”
“For what? Ever’ time I hire on to do a job for people, I do it.”
“But do you do it well? Or do you take the money, do a halfway job, and then claim you spent all the money on materials before you run out on the people who paid you?”
“I do the job right, dammit.”
“I hope so,” Rhodes said. “I don’t want to have to arrest you for deceptive business practices.”
“You won’t be arrestin’ me. I didn’t deceive nobody.”
“We’ll see about that. I want you to finish the job on Brother Alton’s roof, too. And I want you to do it right.”
“I’ll have to have a little something for my labor if I do.”
“No you won’t,” Rhodes said. “You’ve already taken all the money you’re going to take. Unless you can find those receipts and show them to me.”
“You know I can’t do that.”
“Then you’ll just have to finish the job for free. Either that or be arrested. Which do you want to do?”
“I’ll finish the damn job.”
“Good.” Rhodes moved his hand off Overton’s back and moved away. “You can stand up now.”
Overton stood up and glowered at Rhodes.
“I think you made me strain my back, bendin’ me over like that.”
“I’m sure it’ll heal fast,” Rhodes said. He looked toward the driveway. “That’s a nice-looking car you have under that tarp.”
Overton glanced in the direction of the car. “That car belonged to my daddy. He loved that old car. Took good care of it right up till the day he died.”
“I could tell it was in good shape,” Rhodes said.
“It needs some body work and a new paint job. But one of the last things Daddy did after he put it up on the blocks was to drain the oil out of the crankcase and put the tires in storage. I still got those tires. Genuine wide white sidewalls on ’em.”
Rhodes was impressed. “I don’t suppose you’d like to sell the tires and car along with them.”
“I wouldn’t mind sellin’ it, tires and all” Overton said, “It’s just stuff that’s takin’ up room, and I’ll never have the money to get it fixed up right.”
Rhodes started to ask him how much he wanted for it.
He didn’t get a chance, however, because Overton said, “But much as I’d like to get rid of it, I sure as hell wouldn’t sell it to you.”
Chapter Twelve
A disappointed Rhodes was headed home when he got a call from Hack on the radio.
“Ty Berry’s here at the jail,” Hack told him. “Says he has to talk to you.”
Rhodes had planned to go by his house, feed his dog, and maybe even have a quiet supper with Ivy. Well, he thought, he could still do all that if Berry didn’t keep him too long.
“Tell him I’ll be there in five minutes,” he said, and turned the car toward the jail.
B erry was sitting by Rhodes’s desk when the sheriff arrived. He stood up when Rhodes entered the room.
“I’m glad you could get here so soon,” he said. He looked over at Hack, who was watching the early news on his little Sony. “Is there somewhere that we can talk?”
“We can talk right here,” Rhodes told him. “Anything you can say to me, you can say in front of Hack.”
Hack nodded, but said nothing, apparently intent on a story about an alligator that was caught crossing a highway down near Houston.
“All right, then,” Berry said.
He sank back in the chair, and Rhodes walked over to his desk and sat down.
“What’s the trouble?” Rhodes asked.
“I got a phone call a little while ago from someone who’s not a member of the Clearview Historical Society but who knows a lot of them. He says there’s a plot afoot to move the Burleson cabin to town tonight and put it in the city park.”
Several questions immediately occurred to Rhodes. He asked the first one: “Why not the courthouse lawn?”
Berry pulled a wrinkled handkerchief from his shirt pocket, took off his Catamount cap, and wiped his balding head. He
“For what? Ever’ time I hire on to do a job for people, I do it.”
“But do you do it well? Or do you take the money, do a halfway job, and then claim you spent all the money on materials before you run out on the people who paid you?”
“I do the job right, dammit.”
“I hope so,” Rhodes said. “I don’t want to have to arrest you for deceptive business practices.”
“You won’t be arrestin’ me. I didn’t deceive nobody.”
“We’ll see about that. I want you to finish the job on Brother Alton’s roof, too. And I want you to do it right.”
“I’ll have to have a little something for my labor if I do.”
“No you won’t,” Rhodes said. “You’ve already taken all the money you’re going to take. Unless you can find those receipts and show them to me.”
“You know I can’t do that.”
“Then you’ll just have to finish the job for free. Either that or be arrested. Which do you want to do?”
“I’ll finish the damn job.”
“Good.” Rhodes moved his hand off Overton’s back and moved away. “You can stand up now.”
Overton stood up and glowered at Rhodes.
“I think you made me strain my back, bendin’ me over like that.”
“I’m sure it’ll heal fast,” Rhodes said. He looked toward the driveway. “That’s a nice-looking car you have under that tarp.”
Overton glanced in the direction of the car. “That car belonged to my daddy. He loved that old car. Took good care of it right up till the day he died.”
“I could tell it was in good shape,” Rhodes said.
“It needs some body work and a new paint job. But one of the last things Daddy did after he put it up on the blocks was to drain the oil out of the crankcase and put the tires in storage. I still got those tires. Genuine wide white sidewalls on ’em.”
Rhodes was impressed. “I don’t suppose you’d like to sell the tires and car along with them.”
“I wouldn’t mind sellin’ it, tires and all” Overton said, “It’s just stuff that’s takin’ up room, and I’ll never have the money to get it fixed up right.”
Rhodes started to ask him how much he wanted for it.
He didn’t get a chance, however, because Overton said, “But much as I’d like to get rid of it, I sure as hell wouldn’t sell it to you.”
Chapter Twelve
A disappointed Rhodes was headed home when he got a call from Hack on the radio.
“Ty Berry’s here at the jail,” Hack told him. “Says he has to talk to you.”
Rhodes had planned to go by his house, feed his dog, and maybe even have a quiet supper with Ivy. Well, he thought, he could still do all that if Berry didn’t keep him too long.
“Tell him I’ll be there in five minutes,” he said, and turned the car toward the jail.
B erry was sitting by Rhodes’s desk when the sheriff arrived. He stood up when Rhodes entered the room.
“I’m glad you could get here so soon,” he said. He looked over at Hack, who was watching the early news on his little Sony. “Is there somewhere that we can talk?”
“We can talk right here,” Rhodes told him. “Anything you can say to me, you can say in front of Hack.”
Hack nodded, but said nothing, apparently intent on a story about an alligator that was caught crossing a highway down near Houston.
“All right, then,” Berry said.
He sank back in the chair, and Rhodes walked over to his desk and sat down.
“What’s the trouble?” Rhodes asked.
“I got a phone call a little while ago from someone who’s not a member of the Clearview Historical Society but who knows a lot of them. He says there’s a plot afoot to move the Burleson cabin to town tonight and put it in the city park.”
Several questions immediately occurred to Rhodes. He asked the first one: “Why not the courthouse lawn?”
Berry pulled a wrinkled handkerchief from his shirt pocket, took off his Catamount cap, and wiped his balding head. He
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