A Romantic Way to Die by Bill Crider Read Free Book Online Page B

think so,” said a voice from the darkness behind the man with the shotgun.
    Rhodes recognized the voice. Ruth Grady had arrived on the scene.
    “Just lay the shotgun on the ground, sir,” Ruth said.
    “Damn,” the voice said. “You know how to use that pistol, little lady?”
    “Yes, sir, I do,” Ruth said. “Now lay the shotgun down and back away from it. Slowly.”
    “Damn. I guess that really is the sheriff out there in those trees, then, and not some window-peeper. Am I right?”
    “That you, Sheriff?” Ruth called.
    “It’s me,” Rhodes said. He rubbed his eye. “What’s left of me.”
    “Damn,” the voice said. “All right. I’m puttin’ it down. But don’t you let that window-peeper get away.”
    “Don’t you worry about that, sir,” Ruth said. “I’ll take good care of him.”
    Rhodes walked out of the trees and shined the flashlight on the scene. There was a house not too far away, and in its big back yard Ruth Grady stood, holding her pistol in a two-handed grip and pointing at a skinny man wearing overalls and no shirt. He was somewhere in his sixties, Rhodes guessed, and he was backing away from the shotgun which he’d laid at his feet as Ruth had told him to do.
    And not too far from where Rhodes emerged from the trees was Terry Don Coslin, who looked as if he wished he’d never agreed to pay a visit to his old home county.
    Terry Don didn’t sound sorry to be back in Blacklin County. He looked up at the dark sky and said, “You live in a city long enough, you forget how many stars there are up there.”
    “You should come back more often,” Rhodes said.
    Terry Don brought his gaze back to earth and turned to look at Rhodes.
    “Maybe so. Didn’t I sign a book for you at the Wal-Mart this afternoon?”
    “You did,” Rhodes said. “But we’re a long way from there now.”
    “You damn sure are,” said the man in the overalls. “You’re on my property, is where you are, and I’d be within my rights if I shot the whole damn lot of you.”
    “I don’t know about that,” Rhodes told him. “A law officer in pursuit of his duty”—he looked at Ruth “—or her duty can enter your property legally. It’s not like you have any fences up, except that one over there around your dog pen. You think you could get that dog to stop barking?”
    “Keep it down, Grover!” the man yelled, and the dog stopped barking.
    “Thanks,” Rhodes said, who really did appreciate it. His head was throbbing from being hit by the tree limb.
    “You’re not welcome. And I’ll tell you something else. I’m damn well gonna build me a good strong fence around this whole place. It’s been like a damn parade through here tonight. People tramping all over the damn place, and peepin’ in my window besides. If you’re really the sheriff, and I guess you are, you might as well arrest that son of a bitch over there and take him away.”
    “And the complaint would be?”
    “Window-peepin’,” the man said. “Haven’t you been listenin’ to a damn word I’ve said?”
    “I’ve been listening. Now I’m going to pick up your shotgun, Mr.—” Rhodes stopped, then continued. “I don’t think you’ve introduced yourself.”
    “Billy Quentin is my name. And this is my property you’re on. You say it’s legal for you to be here, and maybe it is, for you. But it’s not for that damn window-peeper.”
    Rhodes picked up the shotgun, and Ruth Grady relaxed her stance.
    “I think you can put the sidearm away,” Rhodes told her. “Mr. Quentin isn’t going to hurt anybody.”
    “Not unless it’s a window-peeper,” Quentin said.
    “I think he means you,” Rhodes said to Coslin. “What are you doing out here?”
    “I wasn’t window-peeping,” Terry Don said. “I was just taking a walk. I went back to the president’s house, but Chatterton was fussing around and talking so much that I knew I wasn’t going to get any sleep. Besides, I was upset about what had happened to Henrietta.