Read Online Bill Crider - Dan Rhodes 20 - Compound Murder by Bill Crider - Free Book Online
Authors: Bill Crider
Ads: Link
nice posture.”
“A good quality in anybody,” Rhodes said, standing a little straighter.
“Yes,” Susan said. “I think so, too.”
Chapter 6
The radio on Rhodes’s car started to squawk as he opened the door. He got in and grabbed the mic. Hack came on and said there was another emergency.
“You got to get over to Hannah Bigelow’s house,” Hack said. “Quick.”
“What’s happened?”
“Wild hog in the house.”
“Hogs are Alton Boyd’s job.”
Boyd was the county’s animal control officer. He’d dealt with hogs before. Also cows, goats, and lots of dogs and cats. Not to mention an alligator.
“Alton’s out somewhere around Milsby with Duke. There’s a bunch of cows loose on the road, and Alton’s tryin’ to round ’em up while Duke keeps people from havin’ wrecks. Ruth’s down around Thurston, and Buddy’s workin’ a fender bender out east of town. The hog’s up to you.”
Rhodes thought of a television character whose lament was that it was always something. Roseanne Roseannadanna or some odd name like that. The name didn’t matter, though. She was right. In Blacklin County, it was always something. Murder investigations sometimes had to come to a stop because of mundane troubles like hogs in the house. Not that there was anything mundane about a hog in the house.
“I’m on my way,” Rhodes said.
Wild hogs covered Blacklin County and Texas like fleas covered a stray dog. They were starting to cover a lot of the whole country, for that matter. Rhodes had seen reports of them from as far north as New York. They tore up pastures, killed calves, ruined crops, and multiplied faster than rabbits. They were beginning to move into urban areas, and Rhodes figured the damage inside a house would be considerable.
The state of Texas had tried all kinds of things to get rid of the hogs, but so far nothing had been truly effective. Rhodes had experienced plenty of problems with them himself, but this was the first time he’d heard of one being inside the Clearview city limits, much less inside someone’s house. He supposed it had been just a matter of time until it happened.
Hannah Bigelow didn’t live far from Rhodes, only about a half mile, but that put her house a half mile closer to the edge of town. Rhodes hoped he wasn’t going to have trouble with hogs in his house or yard. Speedo wouldn’t like that kind of visitor at all. Ivy wouldn’t be too thrilled about it, either. Rhodes would have to see about having the fences strengthened, not that fences stood much of a chance against a determined hog, and if there was anything the wild hogs were, it was determined. And unrelenting.
Rhodes parked in front of the Bigelow house and got out of the car. The house was an old one, built sometime during the 1920s, Rhodes thought. One Bigelow or another had owned it all that time, and they’d managed to keep it in fairly decent shape. Hannah was the last of the Bigelows, though, and she was a Bigelow only by marriage. Her husband, Lawrence, last of the true Bigelows, had been dead for a couple of years.
Hannah was waiting for Rhodes on the concrete porch outside her front door. She was short, a little over five feet tall, but stout. She wore her gray hair pulled back into a tight, neat bun at the back of her head.
“It’s about time you got here,” she said. “If my Lawrence were here, you’d have a little more snap to your service. My Lawrence wouldn’t have tolerated a slow response time like this when there’s an emergency.”
“I’m sorry I took so long,” Rhodes said. “I was working on another case. Where’s the hog?”
“Inside, like I told that Hack Jensen when I called. I’m scared to go in there with it. Do you know how dangerous those wild hogs are?”
“Yes, ma’am, I sure do.”
“Then where’s your rifle? You did bring a rifle, didn’t you? You can’t kill a hog with your bare hands.”
Rhodes heard a crash inside the house.
“That
“A good quality in anybody,” Rhodes said, standing a little straighter.
“Yes,” Susan said. “I think so, too.”
Chapter 6
The radio on Rhodes’s car started to squawk as he opened the door. He got in and grabbed the mic. Hack came on and said there was another emergency.
“You got to get over to Hannah Bigelow’s house,” Hack said. “Quick.”
“What’s happened?”
“Wild hog in the house.”
“Hogs are Alton Boyd’s job.”
Boyd was the county’s animal control officer. He’d dealt with hogs before. Also cows, goats, and lots of dogs and cats. Not to mention an alligator.
“Alton’s out somewhere around Milsby with Duke. There’s a bunch of cows loose on the road, and Alton’s tryin’ to round ’em up while Duke keeps people from havin’ wrecks. Ruth’s down around Thurston, and Buddy’s workin’ a fender bender out east of town. The hog’s up to you.”
Rhodes thought of a television character whose lament was that it was always something. Roseanne Roseannadanna or some odd name like that. The name didn’t matter, though. She was right. In Blacklin County, it was always something. Murder investigations sometimes had to come to a stop because of mundane troubles like hogs in the house. Not that there was anything mundane about a hog in the house.
“I’m on my way,” Rhodes said.
Wild hogs covered Blacklin County and Texas like fleas covered a stray dog. They were starting to cover a lot of the whole country, for that matter. Rhodes had seen reports of them from as far north as New York. They tore up pastures, killed calves, ruined crops, and multiplied faster than rabbits. They were beginning to move into urban areas, and Rhodes figured the damage inside a house would be considerable.
The state of Texas had tried all kinds of things to get rid of the hogs, but so far nothing had been truly effective. Rhodes had experienced plenty of problems with them himself, but this was the first time he’d heard of one being inside the Clearview city limits, much less inside someone’s house. He supposed it had been just a matter of time until it happened.
Hannah Bigelow didn’t live far from Rhodes, only about a half mile, but that put her house a half mile closer to the edge of town. Rhodes hoped he wasn’t going to have trouble with hogs in his house or yard. Speedo wouldn’t like that kind of visitor at all. Ivy wouldn’t be too thrilled about it, either. Rhodes would have to see about having the fences strengthened, not that fences stood much of a chance against a determined hog, and if there was anything the wild hogs were, it was determined. And unrelenting.
Rhodes parked in front of the Bigelow house and got out of the car. The house was an old one, built sometime during the 1920s, Rhodes thought. One Bigelow or another had owned it all that time, and they’d managed to keep it in fairly decent shape. Hannah was the last of the Bigelows, though, and she was a Bigelow only by marriage. Her husband, Lawrence, last of the true Bigelows, had been dead for a couple of years.
Hannah was waiting for Rhodes on the concrete porch outside her front door. She was short, a little over five feet tall, but stout. She wore her gray hair pulled back into a tight, neat bun at the back of her head.
“It’s about time you got here,” she said. “If my Lawrence were here, you’d have a little more snap to your service. My Lawrence wouldn’t have tolerated a slow response time like this when there’s an emergency.”
“I’m sorry I took so long,” Rhodes said. “I was working on another case. Where’s the hog?”
“Inside, like I told that Hack Jensen when I called. I’m scared to go in there with it. Do you know how dangerous those wild hogs are?”
“Yes, ma’am, I sure do.”
“Then where’s your rifle? You did bring a rifle, didn’t you? You can’t kill a hog with your bare hands.”
Rhodes heard a crash inside the house.
“That
Similar Books
