The Wild Hog Murders
deserve freedom from fear, that’s what he knows.”
    “What’s he afraid of?”
    “What anybody in the county would be afraid of. Getting murdered.”
    “Nobody from this county’s been murdered. Both victims were from somewhere else. I don’t think the murders are connected to this county.”
    Burns didn’t believe it. “You can’t be sure of that.”
    “Maybe not sure, but close enough.”
    “You mean you know what’s going on?”
    Rhodes shook his head. “I wouldn’t say that. I have some ideas. That’s about all.”
    “What kind of ideas?”
    “I can’t talk about them,” Rhodes said. “They’re confidential.”
    Burns smiled. It wasn’t pleasant. “Which means you don’t really have any.”
    “It means they’re confidential.” Rhodes stood up. “I need to get out and check on a few things. I’ll let you know when there’s been any progress.”
    “There had better be some progress, and soon. You might not be lucky enough to run unopposed in the next election.”
    Rhodes wondered if Burns had his eyes on the sheriff’s job. If he did, more power to him. Rhodes wasn’t considering retirement, but if someone else got elected, Rhodes would step down gracefully. The next election was a long way off, however, and a lot could happen in that time.
    “I wouldn’t mind having an opponent,” Rhodes said. “It would make things interesting.”
    “I wonder who Milton Munday would endorse,” Burns said.
    “Maybe he’ll run,” Rhodes said, “since he knows so much about the law.”
    Burns looked thoughtful. “That might not be a bad idea,” he said.
    *   *   *
    Jennifer Loam was waiting for Rhodes when he came out of the building.
    “How’d you know I was here?” Rhodes asked.
    “We reporters have ways,” Jennifer told him. “You’re lucky I’m the only one here. I think there are a couple of people from some TV station in Dallas at the jail.”
    “Thanks for the warning. I won’t go back there for a while.”
    “You won’t need to. Hack and Lawton are getting the camera time.”
    “And loving it,” Rhodes said.
    “Sure. Who wouldn’t?”
    “Me,” Rhodes said.
    “Yes, but you’re crazy.”
    “People keep telling me that.”
    “Speaking of telling things, what about this latest murder?”
    Rhodes went over things for her, though she’d already gotten all he knew from his report.
    Jennifer got it all down in her notebook and on her recorder. “Do you want me to say that the killer will be brought to swift justice?”
    “You can say that,” Rhodes told her, “but it might not happen.”
    “I have faith in you,” Jennifer said.
    Rhodes looked back at the building he’d just left. “You might be the only one,” he said.
    *   *   *
    Rhodes spotted Arvid Fowler’s pickup parked in front of a house on the outskirts of town. Fowler was in the garage, replacing a couple of faulty breakers in the electrical panel in the garage.
    “Dangerous job,” Rhodes said, walking into the garage.
    “Wouldn’t be too bad if this place wasn’t so crowded,” Fowler said.
    Today he wore a tool belt around his waist instead of a pistol, and Rhodes preferred it that way. He took off his Tractor Supply Company cap and wiped his forehead with the back of his arm while Rhodes looked around the garage. It was full of boxes, stacks of plastic flowerpots, an old chest of drawers that needed refinishing, two rusty bicycles, and a few other odds and ends. There was no room for the two cars that were parked out on the driveway.
    “Not a fire hazard,” Fowler said. “Just a mess. So you can’t be here to arrest the owner.”
    “I wanted to talk to you about last night,” Rhodes said.
    “Yeah, well, you shouldn’t have run off like that. We’d have seen to it that you got back to your car all right. The second hog got clean away from us, and when we went back to get the first one, you were gone.”
    “You must not listen to Milton Munday,” Rhodes

Similar Books

Hidden Depths

Aubrianna Hunter

Justice

Piper Davenport

The Partridge Kite

Michael Nicholson

One Night Forever

Marteeka Karland

Fire and Sword

Simon Brown

Cottonwood Whispers

Jennifer Erin Valent

Whisper to Me

Nick Lake