Lia Farrell - Mae December 02 - Two Dogs Lie Sleeping Page 5

  “Let’s get Dory in here,” Wayne suggested.

  “Okay,” Ben agreed, knowing it was impossible to evade his office parents when they stuck together.

  Dory walked in and sat down. Ben replayed the video and looked at her questioningly.

  “Man or woman?” Wayne asked her.

  “That’s a woman, of course. Is that all you boys needed?”

  “Why do you say that?” Ben tried to keep the frustration out of his voice. “Wayne and I couldn’t tell.”

  “The thighs.” At their expressions, she added, “She’s thin, but she has some weight to the outside of her thighs, her saddlebags. Men don’t carry extra weight there.”

  “How old?” Wayne piped up.

  “She moves well, almost like a dancer, but I’d say in her late thirties.”

  They had wasted two hours, Ben thought, feeling distinctly annoyed with himself.

  “What’s your certainty level?” His detective was looking at Dory with obvious admiration.

  “About eighty-five percent.” She smiled up at Wayne Nichols.

  Ben cleared his throat, “Do you two mind not having a meeting of the mutual admiration society in front of me?”

  “Later, boss man, I’m going home.” Dory stood up and left the room.

  Sheriff Bradley turned to his detective and said, “So we have a suspect—female, late thirties. And since July Powell was still in the room when the emergency medical techs arrived, she’s almost definitely not our shooter.” He gave Wayne Nichols a pointed look.

  “Well, we don’t know that the woman who left the Booth Showhouse by the front door was the killer either, but I’m inclined to agree with you about July. Her grief seems authentic. You said Mrs. Anderson saw a man leaving out the French doors on the side of the house. Too bad nobody thought to put a closed circuit camera back there. The perp just about has to be one of those two people—the woman who left by the front door or the man who went out the French doors.”

  “Right. I’m going to talk with Mrs. December. She’s definitely not a suspect and she knows everything that happens in this town.”

  “Hold on a minute, Sheriff. She’s in the December family. Are you sure she isn’t a suspect? Remember, you aren’t supposed to do any interviews.”

  “Suzanne’s a local reporter, not a suspect.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure,” Wayne said. “Tom Ferris broke July’s heart. The woman is very protective of her daughters.”

  Ben shook his head. “No, it doesn’t add up. July is married now with three kids. She moved on long ago and got over her college boyfriend. And I know the Decembers don’t have guns. But you’re still right, damn it. My hands are tied.” Ben thought for a few minutes. “I guess I can do some research on the computer.”

  Wayne drummed the table with his fingers. “I’m going to interview Miranda Booth Stackhouse. Dory told me she was the chair of the Booth Showhouse Committee and is related to the victim. I’ll ask Dory to find out who the nursery designer was and talk with her. I suppose it’s too late to do any of that tonight. First thing tomorrow I’ll call and see if I can meet with Mrs. Stackhouse.”

  Ben nodded. “I’m going to concentrate on the background and figuring out what Tom Ferris was doing before he came back to town. We found his driver’s license, his volunteer fire fighter’s ID and some paystubs from a resort in Colorado. I’ll contact those organizations and find out what I can about his life there and any ideas they might have about why he came back now.”

  Wayne stood up and turned to leave.

  “Oh, hang on, Wayne. Did I tell you Fred Powell came home early from his conference? Since he’s July’s husband, you better be the one to talk to him.” Ben frowned, still irritated at Captain Paula’s prohibition. Wayne nodded. “I know what I’ll do,” Ben snapped his fingers, “I’ll ask Dory for the local scuttlebutt about the Ferris family.”

  After Wayne left, Ben dialed Dory’s number. He was somewhat apprehensive. Dory did not like to be bothered after she left the office.

  “Hello, Dory?”

  “Is this Ben Bradley?” She sounded annoyed.

  “Hi Dory. Sorry to bother you at home, but I need some background on the Ferris family. Could you find that for me?”

  “Overtime, Sheriff. Overtime. Remember that little promise you made to add more staff? Well, until that happens, anything I do for the office after hours I get double time for.”

  “Time and a half,” Ben said.

  “Fine.” Dory was exasperated. “I’ll call you back.”

  Ben heard the phone smack hard into its cradle.

  Dory called back an hour later.

  “This is what I found out,” Dory said, not bothering to identify herself. “The Booth and Rawlins families—”

  “I wanted information about the Ferris family,” Ben tried for an official tone.

  “Sheriff,” she laughed, sounding like a kid. “I know.” He had no time for her lightheartedness.

  “Dory, I’m working a murder here.” Sometimes Eudora Clarkson drove him slap out of his mind.

  Dory suddenly sobered, “It’s just funny that you don’t know that the Booth, Rawlins, and Ferris families are connected.”

  When the conversation ended, Ben ran through what Dory had told him again. If he had the multi-generational family story right, Judge Henry Booth, still remembered as a strict law and order man, had married Charlotte French after law school. They renovated the Booth Mansion, which was a family property. After years of waiting, they finally had one child—a daughter named Irene Booth.

  While in her early twenties, Irene married Wade Rawlins; according to Dory, it was against the wishes of her family. He was apparently quite the local playboy. Irene and Wade also had a daughter, Miranda Booth Rawlins, now the chairwoman for the Booth Mansion Showhouse Committee.

  Irene, Miranda’s mother, died of cancer when Miranda was almost thirteen. After her death, Miranda’s father remarried. Wade Rawlins’ second wife was a woman named Joanna Ferris, a divorcee with a son—Tom Ferris. Tom was five when Miranda’s father married Tom Ferris’ mother.

  The last thing Dory said—before she huffily reminded him that digging out this information would cost him big time—was that they needed to talk to Bethany Cooper, one of the designers.

  “Why her especially?” Ben asked. “We plan to talk to all the designers to find out if anyone had a reason to murder Tom Ferris.”

  “Just something I found out from one of my friends,” Dory said, enigmatically.

  Ben decided not to push it.

  As Ben drove through the darkened streets of Rosedale, he briefly entertained the fantasy of spending the weekend at Mae’s, while his young son played with the Tater. Matthew would love Mae’s new puppy. It was Ben’s weekend to have him.

  Then he interrupted his own reverie. The weekend he envisioned would not be possible. When there was a murder, they all worked 24/7. He’d have to tell Mae he would be working and Katie that he couldn’t take Matthew. Ben picked up his cell to begin the process of pissing off both the women in his life.

  Chapter Ten

  Mae December

  Ben showed up at Mae’s door at about ten that night, looking absolutely beat. He played with the puppy for a few minutes and then gave Mae a serious look.

  “I talked to Katie on the way over here,” Ben said.

  The name Katie was rarely followed by good news. She waited.

  “I’m not going to be able to keep Matthew this weekend because of the case.” He carried the Tater to her crate and shut her inside before sitting down heavily on a kitchen chair.

  “Is she upset?” Mae inquired in what she hoped was a neutral voice.

  He nodded. “Said she has plans, whatever that means.”

  Mae had to laugh. “I think it means she has plans. Do you think she’d be comfortable with Matthew staying here? I’m very flexible this weekend. I have no boarders at all. Plus, I think my boyfriend is going to be busy, so Matthew c
ould keep me company and play with the Tater.”

  Ben gave her a grateful look. “You don’t have to do this, Mae. Katie and I can work it out.”

  “I want to do it. We’ll have fun, and you can come over when you can get away and have some time with both of us. As long as she’s okay with it.”

  He laughed. “I’m sure she will be, or she’ll at least act like she is while she’s here.”

  “Here? Why would she be here?” Mae realized her voice sounded alarmed.

  Ben looked at her with a little grin. “Don’t panic. She’ll have to pick him up from nursery school and bring his clothes and things with him. I’m sure she’ll be pleasant.”

  Mae wasn’t at all sure. The truth was, Katie made her nervous and her housekeeping probably wasn’t up to the woman’s standards. It was tough to keep a perfect house with three, no four dogs inside. Ben’s son was a great kid, and it would be fun to spend some time with him. She told herself his mother being there for a few minutes was a small price to pay.

  “Why don’t you call her and see what she thinks?”

  Ben’s blue eyes darkened as he reached out and smoothed her hair. “I’ll call her later,” he said in a husky voice. “Give me a kiss.”

  She gave him a short but thorough kiss. “Ben, did you find out the reason Tommy came back to Rosedale?”

  “No, but Dory gave me a lot of background.”

  “Did she tell you anything that might help with the case?”

  “She said I needed to bring Bethany Cooper in for questioning. Did she hear that from you?”

  “Not exactly,” Mae looked away, “but I think Bethany knew that Tommy was in town when no one else did. At least that’s what I heard.”

  Ben looked intently at her. “Did your source tell you why he was here? We’re checking out when Tom arrived at the airport and picked up his rental car, but he wasn’t in town long. Was it July who told you?”

  Mae shook her head. “No. July would have been devastated if she knew Tommy was back in town without telling her. When I talked to her today, I learned a little more about their relationship. She and Tommy only slept together once—right before he disappeared. They’d been a couple for more than two years. They kept seeing each other after they both went to college—he to Southeast Tennessee State, she to Ole Miss. I know she went and stayed with him whenever she could during freshman year and the first part of sophomore year, but they’d never actually made love. Then finally, while they were both home for vacation, she decided she was ready. Anyway, after that they both went back to college. She never saw him again.”

  “Did July tell you anything else that might be relevant to the case?” The sheriff’s eyes were focused tightly on hers.

  “No,” she said quietly. She wished she hadn’t given July her word not to tell Ben about what Tommy whispered just before he died. It bothered her to keep things from Ben, in particular things related to a case, but her loyalty to her sister was strong.

  “So the poor guy dated July for two years before he got her into bed? I can sympathize. God knows it took me a while to get you into bed. I wouldn’t be satisfied with one night.” Ben grinned.

  “Well you’re certainly not getting me into bed while Matthew is here,” she said, trying to be strict.

  “We’ll just see about that. I might be irresistible.”

  “You are impossible, not irresistible.”

  They talked a little longer, and she told him everything July had agreed she could share. It was getting very late when Ben said he needed to go. He was reluctant, but Mae knew the drill. When he was working an important case, he rarely stayed over. She gave him a lingering good-bye kiss.

  “Woman, have you no mercy?” He nuzzled her neck, gave it a gentle bite, and headed out into the dark.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sheriff Ben Bradley

  Sheriff Bradley arrived at the office so early the next morning that it was still dark. Using the white board in the conference room, he began working on a time line for the last two days of Tom Ferris’ life. Ben had informed the staff the previous day that all ongoing cases were suspended until they found out who murdered Tom Ferris. All staff meetings for the foreseeable future were canceled.

  The car rental agent had picked up Ferris at the airport on August first, the day before he was shot. By calling all the nearby hotels, Ben found out that a man matching Ferris’ description stayed at a Microtel outside Rosedale that night, paying in cash for the room. He glanced at his watch and noted that it was 8:00 a.m.

  He buzzed Dory. “Dory, would you mind coming in here and writing things in this grid I made on the white board?” he asked.

  “Sure thing,” she said. Dory was in a good mood. She came in smiling and holding a sharpie.

  “Okay, I divided the board into two columns—a column for August first and second. Tom Ferris arrived at the airport at three p.m. on August first, left the airport in a rented car at four-thirty and checked into the Microtel by six that evening. His cellphone history tells us that he ordered a pizza at seven. After dinner he must have driven around town. There were close to forty extra miles on the car’s speedometer.”

  Dory wrote while Ben concentrated on his notes for the timeline. Had Tom Ferris driven to see someone late on the evening he arrived? Had he gone over to see July? He looked at the white board and said, “You can write ‘arrived at Booth Mansion in the late afternoon’ and his TOD at 5:57.”

  Ben raised his eyes from his notes and looked at the board. He was dismayed by how sketchy it was.

  August 1

  August 2

  3:00 p.m. Tom Ferris arrives at Nashville airport

  No information

  4:30 p.m. T.F. rents car. Leaves airport for Rosedale

  No information

  6:00 p.m. Checks into Microtel. Orders a pizza at 7:00.

  Arrives at Booth Showhouse

  40 extra miles on speedometer

  TOD 5:57 p.m.

  “Thanks Dory, I’ll do the rest.”

  Ben dialed Wayne’s cellphone.

  “What’s up?” his detective asked.

  “I’ve been working on the time-line. Want to meet at Donut Den or the office?”

  “Donut Den,” Wayne said, sounding surprisingly alert. Knowing Wayne, Ben guessed that he had hardly slept since they got the case the previous day. He often did background work on the victim’s known associates late at night, prowling the streets and talking to the people he encountered.

  They drove into the parking lot in the alley behind Donut Den at almost the same moment and walked in together. It was hot and humid again with a low cloud cover. After Ben paid for Dory’s blueberry donuts and an assortment for everyone else, he joined Wayne at their usual two-top by the window.

  Ben summarized what he had found out about Tommy Ferris’ movements before he arrived at the mansion. “I stopped over at Mae’s last night after I got the lowdown from Dory,” he said.

  Wayne shook his head and grinned. “Really? I’m amazed you still have a girlfriend, Ben. I was thinking since we were considering July Powell a suspect, Mae would drop you like a bad habit.” His low-pitched laugh rumbled.

  “No way. Dory told me that we should talk to Bethany Cooper. I got the feeling that Bethany knew Tom Ferris was in town before anyone else did. I’m wondering why.” Ben expected to surprise Wayne with this information, but he just nodded.

  “We need to talk with her and her husband, Dan. And I think you should also talk to George Stackhouse, Miranda’s husband. Dory said Miranda really wanted that house and was crushed when it went to Ferris after their parents died. I had an idea that Miranda might have pushed her husband to get rid of Ferris, thinking she would get the house if he was out of the picture.”

  “On it.” Wayne was already picking up his car keys.

  “Mae also gave me some helpful information. Tom Ferris had a high grade point average at Southeast Tennessee State, and at Christmas he told his parents and July that he
intended to go to law school. Mae said his parents gave him a new car for Christmas that year—a red rag top. He returned to school on January third, and that was the last time July ever saw him.”

  “Ah, the female network,” his detective said. “I’m puzzled by the fact that Ferris apparently fell off the face of the earth when he returned to college fifteen years ago. I suspect his disappearance way back then has something to do with his murder.”

  Ben looked out the window at the hot morning sky. The temperature was in the low nineties already. Heat waves rose off the pavement.

  “Just what I was thinking,” Ben said. “The kid heads back to school in his new car, his beautiful girlfriend on his mind, and simply vanishes. Then on January fifth, Tommy’s parents, Mr. and Mrs. Rawlins, were killed in a car crash. The opposing driver fell asleep, crossed the median, and ran right into them. Something happened on Tom’s way back to college, or in the two days between January third and January fifth that made him give up his whole life here.” Ben frowned and scratched his head. “Dory found out he didn’t even attend his parents’ funerals.”

  “The motive for this killing goes back a long time,” Wayne said. “The Ferris murder might be a new case on top of a cold case.”

  “Right, it’s like two sleeping dogs.” Ben grabbed the donuts and headed out the door.

  On the way to the office, he called Dory. When she answered, he asked if she could look up the obituary for Mr. and Mrs. Rawlins.

  “I want to know if an obit was placed in the student newspaper at Southeast Tennessee State. Can you check?”

  “You bet,” Dory said.

  When Ben walked into the office, he noticed Dory was wearing a purplish top with a gray skirt and some shiny silver and purple earrings. He made a mental note to ask her where she got them. It would be nice to get something similar for Mae, to thank her for keeping Matthew for the weekend.

  “Purple earrings,” he said, “very nice.”