Survivors Will Be Shot Again (25 page)

That left Will Smalls. Rhodes had a feeling Will was a part of the scheme as well. Rhodes didn't know if Will had somewhere to store the stolen items, but he must have known what was going on. Otherwise he wouldn't have been so determined to keep Rhodes away from the Hunts' house.

Rhodes thought that Ellen and Joyce had been kept out of the loop, as Hack would have put it, maybe because they would have objected to the criminal activity or maybe because it was just safer to keep them in the dark. Joyce was acting so differently that she might have been told at least a little of the story. Ellen, too. Rhodes wondered if there was a place at the Smalls house where stolen goods could be stored.

Rhodes realized that he'd started rocking in the chair. It didn't make much noise, and the rocking motion was comforting in a way. He didn't want to get too comfortable, however. He needed to come up with some answers, not rock and relax.

It was then that he thought about the storm cellar. It would've been easy enough for Melvin to come home with a pickup full of what he could have told Joyce was “welding supplies” that he had to put in the barn. He could put them in the storm cellar instead, knowing that there was no way Joyce was going into it. He could keep things there until he got a chance to pass them along to someone else, either to Will or to Riley. Of if either of those two had been with him when he stole things, they could simply have taken them away almost at once and sold them within hours.

That theory still left some things unexplained, such as why there had been no vehicle at Bacon's barn after Melvin was killed. Had Riley taken him there? Or had it been Will? It wasn't out of the question that Melvin had walked, but that wouldn't explain the lock that had been cut on the gate chain.

Rhodes stood up. He needed to have a look in the storm cellar. He went out the back door and into the yard. The roof of the storm cellar was concrete, and a small, rusty vent pipe stuck up from the back end. The doorway was almost flat on the ground, thick wood covered with shingles, and it had a hasp and a padlock on it. That was interesting, since locking a storm cellar door from the outside didn't make any sense. People needed quick access to the cellar in case of a storm, so nobody ever locked the door. Not from the outside, anyway. Storm doors locked from the inside so the doors wouldn't be flung open by the wind, causing whoever was inside to be sucked out into the storm.

Rhodes didn't think it was a good idea to use the bolt cutters he'd found, but there'd been a screwdriver in the barn. He got the screwdriver and knelt on the ground to remove the screws that held the hasp. He justified what he was doing by telling himself that he had permission from Joyce to search the house, with Ellen as a witness. He hadn't been told that he could break into the storm cellar, but he considered that doing so was part of a reasonable search. He'd replace the hasp when he was done if that turned out to be necessary.

Rhodes set the screwdriver and screws on the roof of the cellar when he'd finished. He stood up, stretched, and then bent over to grasp the edge of the door. He pulled it upward. The door was heavy, all right, but not too heavy for him to lift. A door that was hard to open would have been a problem for anybody who was in a hurry to escape a impending tornado. Not as bad as a locked door, but bad enough.

Rhodes let the door drop open on the ground with a solid thump and looked down into the cellar. Concrete steps led into the dark below, and he couldn't make out anything in the murk. He'd have to go back to the Tahoe for his flashlight.

“I guess it's a good thing I came back out here for the dog food,” a voice behind Rhodes said.

Rhodes turned around. “I'd have been glad to bring it back to town for you if Joyce or Ellen had asked me to.”

“Well,” Will Smalls said, “they didn't think of it, and neither did I. I could've gone to Walmart and picked some up, but I figured, why buy it when there's a bag of it already open? So here I am.”

Smalls stood facing Rhodes, the sun glinting off his rimless glasses, his hand on the butt of his pistol. Rhodes thought about the little Kel-Tec in his ankle holster. A man who has a pistol in an ankle holster isn't in a good position for a fast draw.

“See, I never thought you'd look in the storm cellar,” Will said. “That's why I told Joyce it'd be okay for you to come on out here and poke around. I can see now that was a mistake. I wanted you to look around in the house and decide there was nothing to find, but now you've gone and messed things up. That's a real shame.”

“That's not the only mistake you made,” Rhodes said. “Getting involved in theft and then killing your brother-in-law, that wasn't too smart, either.”

“You don't know what you're talking about,” Will said.

He drew the pistol, racked the slide, and pointed the gun at Rhodes. It was a Glock 17, and Rhodes wondered how good a shot Will was with it. Probably good enough, considering that he was only fifteen or so yards away. Just about anybody could hit a man at that distance if he fired enough shots, and at the moment Will looked like the type who'd keep pulling the trigger as long as he had to.

“Gimme your gun,” Will said.

Rhodes raised his arms. “Do you see a gun?”

“Turn around,” Will said, and Rhodes did.

“Okay,” Will said. “I guess you don't have a gun. You wanted to see what was in the cellar, so get on down in there.”

Rhodes didn't think going into the cellar would be a good idea, but he couldn't think of another alternative, not with the Glock pointed at him. He looked into the cellar again.

“Go ahead,” Will said. “It's not so bad.”

“I heard there were spiders and snakes down there,” Rhodes said, thinking of an old song. “I don't like spiders and snakes.”

“Those are gonna be the least of your problems,” Will said.

“I figured as much.”

Rhodes bent over and started into the cellar. He heard movement behind him, but before he could straighten up and turn, Will had kicked him in the rear and sent him stumbling down the steps.

Rhodes wasn't quite able to maintain his balance, but he didn't fall, either. He landed at the bottom on his feet and dropped to his hands and knees in two or three inches of water. He stood up as quickly as he could, but when he turned the door slammed down, leaving him in almost complete darkness.

His only chance of getting out was to shove the door open before Will could get the hasp screwed back into place. He felt his way up a couple of steps. Bending, he positioned himself and shoved as hard as he could against the door. It bounced up maybe an inch, but that was all. Will must have been sitting on it to put the screws in the hasp. Will wasn't big, but he was big enough to hold the door down.

Rhodes shoved again with the same lack of success.

“Won't do you any good, Sheriff,” Will said. “You might's well make yourself comfortable.”

Rhodes didn't think there was any chance of getting comfortable in nearly total darkness in a dank cellar with several inches of water on the floor, not to mention an untold number of spiders and snakes hiding out in the various nooks and crannies, so he sat down on one of the steps to think things out. The boards of the door were too heavy for his pistol to shoot through, so that wasn't an option. He couldn't think of any others, either.

He wondered how long it would take a man to go blind in total darkness. Probably longer than it would take him to starve, unless there was some food in the cellar. Some people did put tin cans with a little food in cellars, just in case. He wouldn't have to worry about water. There was plenty of that.

He might not have to worry about going blind, either. A little bit of light came in through the vent, not much, but enough to keep the place from being completely inky. There might be a flashlight somewhere, too, unless Melvin counted on bringing one from the house in case of storms.

Rhodes wasn't really worried about all those things, however. The Tahoe was parked in the front of the house in plain sight, and he'd told Hack where he was going. He might be trapped in the cellar for a while, which would be uncomfortable, and it would be embarrassing to have to be rescued, but he'd survive if the spiders and snakes didn't get him.

“Sheriff, I got a little problem,” Will said.

“I hope you're not expecting any sympathy from me,” Rhodes said, “because you're not going to get any.”

Will ignored the remark. “See, the thing is, I forgot about moving your vehicle. I was gonna put it in the barn, but I can't do that.”

“Because you don't have the keys,” Rhodes said.

“That's right. I forgot to get them from you.”

Rhodes laughed. He was glad he wasn't the only one who had those little forgetful moments. Will wasn't a very professional criminal, and Rhodes was glad of that, too.

“Here's what I'm gonna do,” Will said. “I'm gonna take the hasp off again and open the door an inch or two. You can throw the keys out to me.”

Rhodes laughed again. “That'll be the day.”

Will was quiet for a few seconds. Then he said, “I guess I'll have to take 'em, then.”

It occurred to Rhodes that while the ankle holster was a disadvantage at times, it had one thing going for it. Will didn't realize that Rhodes was armed.

“I guess you will,” Rhodes said.

Will was quiet again, but Rhodes heard him working on the screws. While he was doing that, Rhodes got his Kel-Tec from the ankle holster and got ready.

“I'm gonna open the door now,” Will said. “I don't want to shoot you, but I will if I have to. You can give me the keys or get shot. It's your choice. You know what I mean?”

“I know what you mean,” Rhodes said.

“'Cause it doesn't make any difference to me now,” Will said. “I'm already in about as much trouble as I can get in. Shooting you won't make much difference to me. It will to you, though.”

Rhodes didn't think that Will was stupid. He'd open the door, all right, but he'd do it fast. He'd also do it from the side that wouldn't leave him visible until the door was fully open, and by then he'd have the pistol out. Rhodes had a little plan that covered the situation, however. He got himself set and ready.

The door started to open.

 

Chapter 21

Rhodes sprang up and put his shoulder into the door, straightening his legs and shoving upward, hard.

Will was caught off balance and fell backward, landing on his back. The door fell onto his feet, and he fired his pistol into the air. He tried to bring the weapon to bear on Rhodes, who had popped out of the cellar, but Rhodes had his own pistol out and shot before Will had a second chance to pull the trigger.

The bullet hit Will in the wrist of the hand that held the pistol. Will screamed and dropped the pistol. Rhodes had to admit even to himself that it was a shot worthy of Sage Barton, or it would have been if Rhodes had actually been trying to make it. Sage Barton was an incredibly accurate shot, but Rhodes had been shooting only to scare Will or at least get his attention. The fact that he'd hit him was nothing more than an accident. Of course, if he'd hit him in the head, that would've been an accident, too, but not a happy one.

Will twisted his body and reached for the pistol with his uninjured hand. Rhodes stepped over and kicked the pistol aside.

Will lay back. “You've killed me, Sheriff. I'll bleed out right here.”

Rhodes looked down at Will's wrist. Will was small, but he had wide wrists, and by another happy accident the bullet had taken only a little chunk out of the edge of his wrist. It hadn't hit bone or an artery. Will wasn't in any danger. He probably wasn't even in much pain.

“You'll be fine,” Rhodes told him. “The handcuffs might hurt a little bit.”

“Handcuffs? You'd handcuff a dying man?”

“You're not in any danger of dying,” Rhodes said, “but the county doesn't like for prisoners to complain about their care. I'll call for the EMS crew to come get you, just to be sure you're well taken care of. You better clamp a hand on that wrist to stop the bleeding. I was just joking about the handcuffs.”

Will didn't laugh about the joke, which was no surprise, but he did clamp down on his wrist.

“While we're waiting,” Rhodes said, “you can tell me what you stole and why you killed Riley and Melvin.”

“I'm not telling you squat,” Will said.

Rhodes went over to where Will's pistol lay. He picked it up and stuck it in his belt. Two-Gun Dan Rhodes. Then he walked back to Will.

“I'm arresting you for assault on an officer. That's going to be the least of your troubles, though. There'll be more charges later after I make up a list, so I'd better tell you what your rights are.”

Rhodes recited the Miranda rights and asked Will if he understood them.

“I've seen this stuff on TV,” Will said. “I know what it is.”

“And they say TV isn't educational.”

“I never said that,” Will said.

“That was a joke,” Rhodes told him. “Stand up.”

“I don't know if I can. The damn door's on my feet, and my ankles are broke, or maybe my feet. Something's broke. I'm in a bad way.”

Rhodes doubted that. “Give it a try. You can do it. I'll help you.”

Rhodes bent and lifted the door with his left hand while keeping his pistol aimed in Will's general direction. He couldn't lift the door very high like that, but it was enough for Will to wiggle his feet free.

“Now you can get up,” Rhodes said.

Will struggled to stand, still holding his wrist, which was hardly bleeding now, and complaining about how his feet were broken. He managed to get upright and stay that way, although he looked a little wobbly.

“I can't walk,” he said. “It's bone on bone down there.”