Read Online Dead Broke in Jarrett Creek: A Samuel Craddock Mystery (Samuel Craddock Mysteries) by Terry Shames - Free Book Online
Authors: Terry Shames
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crushing debt. He should know he’s not too popular right now and should have stayed away. But Coldwater never was known for being perceptive. He comes over to our table, grinning like a fool. He sticks his hand out to shake mine. “I understand we’ve got ourselves a dollar-a-year man.”
It’s just like Coldwater to make a public spectacle of the fact that I’m not getting paid. It makes it seem like the only reason I got the job is that I don’t need the money. I can’t begin to think what to say to him. Lundsford saves me by pushing his chair back and saying to nobody in particular, “I’ve been sitting around here too long. Better get back to work.” All the other men at our table get up, including me.
“I’ll catch up with you boys later,” Coldwater says. His voice is pleasant enough, but his face has hardened as he gets the message. I don’t have the heart to leave him to swing in the wind.
“Alton, can I have a word with you?”
“Why sure!” Louder than it needs to be.
“Outside?”
“Okay, let me tell Lurleen what I want to eat.”
When Coldwater comes outside and it’s the two of us without an audience, he’s deflated and looks at me with hangdog eyes. “You don’t have to say a thing,” he says. “I know what people are saying. But I can’t just hide at home. I’m not built that way. I’d go crazy. I figure if I keep showing up, people will get used to seeing me and eventually they’ll forget what happened.”
His assessment strikes me as being too optimistic, but I feel sorry for him. Everybody makes mistakes at one time or another—his happened to be public. “I understand, but everybody is on edge right now, Alton, not just about our financial situation but because of what happened to Gary Dellmore.”
He glares at me. “Everybody thinks I played fast and loose with the town’s money, but I really believed in that project out at the lake. I put up a lot of my own money. It wasn’t only the town that lost out; it was me, too. And let me tell you something else: everybody can cry crocodile tears over Gary Dellmore, but if they knew the way he pushed for the deal out at the lake to go through, they might have second thoughts.”
I thought I could eliminate Rusty Reinhardt as a possible suspect until I heard that his daughter had a public flirtation with Gary Dellmore. No telling what a man will do if he thinks his daughter is being interfered with.
I track Reinhardt down at his grocery store, the Qwik Mart, the biggest grocery store in town. He’s stocking cans of tomatoes, and as I walk up he hoists another box off the pallet with a grunt. He’s dressed in blue jeans and a sweatshirt, and you wouldn’t guess that he was the owner of the store.
“Rusty, seems like you could hire somebody a little younger to do this job.”
“You find somebody, I’ll hire him! Boy walked off the job this morning like he had a whole pack of jobs lined up. They say the economy has gone bad, but these kids think they can get another job just like that.” He wipes his forehead with his sleeve. “What can I do for you?”
“I need to have a word with you.”
“Come on to the back room. I need a break anyway.” He pushes the pallet to the end of the aisle and against the wall.
I follow him through the swinging metal doors, across a cold concrete floor stacked with boxes of goods, and into a cramped office. He parks himself behind a desk strewn with receipts and bills and points me at the chair facing him.
“Rusty, I guess you know why I’m here. I have to question everybody who was at the meeting the other night.”
“You mean to find out if I heard a gunshot?” he says dryly.
I give him the benefit of a laugh and then continue. “From my end, I can tell you that I overheard Dellmore having an argument with somebody after the meeting. But I didn’t see who it was. You have any idea who he was talking to?”
Reinhardt frowns and shakes his head. He rears back in his
It’s just like Coldwater to make a public spectacle of the fact that I’m not getting paid. It makes it seem like the only reason I got the job is that I don’t need the money. I can’t begin to think what to say to him. Lundsford saves me by pushing his chair back and saying to nobody in particular, “I’ve been sitting around here too long. Better get back to work.” All the other men at our table get up, including me.
“I’ll catch up with you boys later,” Coldwater says. His voice is pleasant enough, but his face has hardened as he gets the message. I don’t have the heart to leave him to swing in the wind.
“Alton, can I have a word with you?”
“Why sure!” Louder than it needs to be.
“Outside?”
“Okay, let me tell Lurleen what I want to eat.”
When Coldwater comes outside and it’s the two of us without an audience, he’s deflated and looks at me with hangdog eyes. “You don’t have to say a thing,” he says. “I know what people are saying. But I can’t just hide at home. I’m not built that way. I’d go crazy. I figure if I keep showing up, people will get used to seeing me and eventually they’ll forget what happened.”
His assessment strikes me as being too optimistic, but I feel sorry for him. Everybody makes mistakes at one time or another—his happened to be public. “I understand, but everybody is on edge right now, Alton, not just about our financial situation but because of what happened to Gary Dellmore.”
He glares at me. “Everybody thinks I played fast and loose with the town’s money, but I really believed in that project out at the lake. I put up a lot of my own money. It wasn’t only the town that lost out; it was me, too. And let me tell you something else: everybody can cry crocodile tears over Gary Dellmore, but if they knew the way he pushed for the deal out at the lake to go through, they might have second thoughts.”
I thought I could eliminate Rusty Reinhardt as a possible suspect until I heard that his daughter had a public flirtation with Gary Dellmore. No telling what a man will do if he thinks his daughter is being interfered with.
I track Reinhardt down at his grocery store, the Qwik Mart, the biggest grocery store in town. He’s stocking cans of tomatoes, and as I walk up he hoists another box off the pallet with a grunt. He’s dressed in blue jeans and a sweatshirt, and you wouldn’t guess that he was the owner of the store.
“Rusty, seems like you could hire somebody a little younger to do this job.”
“You find somebody, I’ll hire him! Boy walked off the job this morning like he had a whole pack of jobs lined up. They say the economy has gone bad, but these kids think they can get another job just like that.” He wipes his forehead with his sleeve. “What can I do for you?”
“I need to have a word with you.”
“Come on to the back room. I need a break anyway.” He pushes the pallet to the end of the aisle and against the wall.
I follow him through the swinging metal doors, across a cold concrete floor stacked with boxes of goods, and into a cramped office. He parks himself behind a desk strewn with receipts and bills and points me at the chair facing him.
“Rusty, I guess you know why I’m here. I have to question everybody who was at the meeting the other night.”
“You mean to find out if I heard a gunshot?” he says dryly.
I give him the benefit of a laugh and then continue. “From my end, I can tell you that I overheard Dellmore having an argument with somebody after the meeting. But I didn’t see who it was. You have any idea who he was talking to?”
Reinhardt frowns and shakes his head. He rears back in his
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