Ghost of a Chance by Bill Crider

prisoners about the ghost, so he went into the cellblock and let them know that there wouldn’t be any more haunting in the jail.
    “You right sure about that, Sheriff?” Lank Rollins asked. “I thought I felt a cold chill pass over me last night.”
    “That was just the weather,” Rhodes assured him. “Four people saw that ghost out at the cemetery last night, and I saw something, too.”
    Rollins wanted to know what it looked like.
    “Nothing much,” Rhodes said. “It was like a shadow, didn’t have much shape at all.”
    “That’s it, all right,” Rollins said. “Tell you the truth, I’m glad it’s moved out of here. Ghosts belong in the graveyard, not in any jailhouse.”
    “You’re well acquainted with graveyards, are you?” Rhodes said.
    “What do you mean?” Rollins asked.
    “I was just wondering if you might know somethingabout who’s taking things out of the cemeteries around the county. If you did, you might be able to help us out.”
    “Not me,” Rollins said. “I stay away from graveyards. Not my kinda place at all.”
    “All right,” Rhodes said. “But if anything occurs to you, let Lawton know.”
    “I’ll sure do that, Sheriff,” Rollins said, with all the sincerity of a used-car salesman.
    Rhodes went back to the office and let Hack and Lawton know that he’d done his duty with the prisoners.
    “They believe you?” Lawton asked.
    “I think so. Hard to tell with that bunch, though.”
    “That’s the truth,” Hack said. “They’ve told so many lies themselves they wouldn’t know the truth if it bit ’em in the butt.”
    Rhodes told Hack and Lawton that he was going to drive down to Thurston and asked if there’d been any calls that morning.
    “Just one,” Hack said, with a glance at Lawton.
    Rhodes knew what that meant. They wanted him to ask what the call had been about rather than just telling him. He might have tested their resolve, but he didn’t have time.
    He said, “What about?”
    “It was about Vernell Lindsey,” Hack said.
    Rhodes didn’t have to hear any more than that. He knew what the trouble was. But he didn’t say so.
    “I was just talking to Ivy about her last night,” he said. “She finally sold a book. Ivy has a copy of it.”
    “Seen it,” Hack said. Wild Texas Wind . Got Terry Don Coslin on the cover.”
    Since Hack hardly ever left the jail, Rhodes could never figure out where he got all his news.
    “And it’s got a woman, too,” Lawton said. “Not Miz Lindsey, though.”
    “And it don’t have her goats, either,” Hack said.
    The goats were the crux of the problem. Vernell Lindsey had three of them, named Shirley, Goodness, and Mercy.
    “Which one’s loose this time?” Rhodes asked.
    “Shirley,” Hack said.
    “Jumped the fence again?”
    “You got it. You can’t fence in a goat. Ever’body knows that.”
    Everybody except Vernell, Rhodes thought. He said, “Tell Ruth to take care of it. I have to go down to Thurston.”
    “Can she shoot it?” Hack asked.
    “I don’t think that would be a good idea. Tell her to handle it with kid gloves.”
    “Kid gloves,” Hack said. “You know, Sheriff, I think marryin’ Ivy’s been real good for you. You might even develop a sense of humor.”
    “I don’t get it,” Lawton said.
    “Let Hack explain it,” Rhodes said, and headed for the door.

15

    W HEN RHODES REACHED FOR THE DOORKNOB, THE DOOR swung open and almost hit him in the face. Faye Knape came inside so fast that she bumped into him.
    “I’m sorry, Sheriff,” she said, stepping back and not sounding very sorry at all. “I hope you weren’t leaving. I have some important information.”
    “I was leaving,” Rhodes said. “But I can stick around if you have something to tell me.”
    “I don’t,” Faye said. “But Sharon does.”
    Sharon Carlisle was standing behind Faye, just outside the doorway.
    “All right,” Rhodes said. “Come on in.”
    He walked over to his desk. There was already a chair