One Dog Too Many (A Mae December Mystery) (16 page)

“What was the argument about?”

“Steven practically attacked me. He was furious. I was emotionally spent from finding out about Ruby being pregnant. Steven kept asking me why I couldn’t make dinner with the visiting VIPs and why I took Ruby to dinner instead. I finally broke down and told him that Ruby was pregnant and that I wasn’t the father.”

“What happened after that?”

“Robin came out and said we were waking the neighbors and told us to quiet down. I don’t know if she heard what I said about Ruby or not, but I think she probably did. She told us to come into the house and we went inside.”

“David, I want to believe you, but we have no one who can vouch for your movements after you got back to the Fanning residence. You could easily have walked back down the road to Ruby’s house and killed her later that night.”

There was a long silence while Wayne waited for David to say something else. “Learning his wife was pregnant by someone else could make a man angry enough to kill,” Wayne said.

David’s breathing was ragged. “Well, I didn’t kill her. I was angry, yes, but I think I was more hurt than anything. Discovering Ruby had had an affair with someone else while I was hoping she might come back to me made me feel like a fool. The worst was what I learned about myself that night—even pregnant with another man’s child—I was still in love with Ruby.”

He stood up at his desk and glanced back at Ruby’s
framed photograph. “I’m sorry, Detective. I have a meeting now. I really need to go.”

“All right. We’re done for now. We may have to bring you in for further questioning, though. I need you to stay
available.”

Walking out to the car Deputy Fuller said, “Sir, I was surprised you got either of those guys to open up. Mr. Fanning was pretty slick, and Mr. Allison was very defensive at first. You really do have a knack.”

Wayne shook his head, smiling. “I went to a conference once where we interviewed actors pretending to be murder suspects. Our task was to get the suspect to share information with us, even information that would portray them in a bad light.

“We worked with biofeedback machines. They taught us how to synchronize our breathing and how to get our heart rates down. Sometimes making eye contact and breathing at the same rate as the suspect makes them open up. They showed my interview to the rest of the conference as a good example of how to do the nonverbal stuff. I was proud of that.”

“Do you think you do this instinctively or did you learn how at the conference?”

“I think it’s a combination. Growing up in foster care, tough as it was, gave me the skill to read people. I never wanted to call attention to myself. I learned how to get other people to talk in order to take attention away from me. I can usually tell when someone is lying. It’s helpful in my work.”

Wayne looked at Robert Fuller, who listened intently. The young man seemed to be soaking up every word.

“I use the breathing technique when I need to get information that a suspect doesn’t want to share. In some cases where I’m only getting background information, like when I talked to Lucy Ingram or Jack Ryan, people I don’t necessarily suspect of a crime, I don’t need to use the nonverbal stuff. Then it’s more of a normal conversation.”

“Could you teach me how to do it? Then sometime when we have a suspect at the office, could I try to interrogate them?”

“If you want to practice, you should probably interview me first. Then you could interrogate a suspect, as long as the sheriff is okay with it.”

“Um, all right then.” Deputy Fuller gave him a sideways glance. “You said you grew up in foster care. Where were you living then?”

“In the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.”

“Way up there. So, how did you end up in law enforcement in Tennessee?”

Wayne got behind the wheel of the car and tried to compose himself while Deputy Fuller walked around to the passenger side and climbed in. He looked at Wayne expectantly.

“With me, parallel questioning would probably work better.” Wayne started the car and pulled out of the lot. “A lot of people are uncomfortable when you stare directly at them. Those people will reveal more when you’re facing in the same direction.”

“Got it.” The young deputy faced forward and let some quiet build in the car.

Wayne nodded approvingly. “It’s often a good idea to wait someone out. Then you can start your questioning.”

Robert Fuller kept his gaze on the windshield. “How did you come to be a detective in Tennessee and what sparked your interest in law enforcement?”

Wayne had to be careful; the kid was actually pretty good. “After I left my last foster home, I worked on a wheat farm. Once the crop was in, the farmer told me to move on. I hitched a ride across the Mackinaw bridge and ended up in Traverse City at the beginning of fall. I was only seventeen, but I was big and strong. I got a job working for the hospital as an orderly, doing patient transport.”

“Did you live alone?”

“Yeah, in a rented room.” The detective allowed himself to get lost in memories. “I heard all kinds of stories. All day long patients talked to me. One old man told me that he had killed somebody in a fight over a woman. I didn’t believe him then, but now I do. I went back to my room every night alone and thought about the things I heard.” His voice drifted into silence.

“So you were interested in people’s life stories, and that’s why you wanted to be a detective?”

Wayne gave his head a quick shake. “Not merely the stories. I wanted to know the truth about those people. To me, being a detective is all about finding out the truth. One of the men I transported to dialysis died. I went to his autopsy. Several police officers also attended. I was impressed by how serious they were about it. Then I started going to mass, and one of the priests took an interest in me. I think he thought I’d go to seminary, possibly join the priesthood.”

Robert stifled a laugh at this, and Wayne gave him a stern look.

“I know it sounds funny to you, but if this were a real interview, you would have just lost my trust.”

“Well, you’re kind of the ladies’ man of the department. I can’t picture you as a priest.” Robert was carefully not meeting his eyes. “Let me try again. That sounds like a difficult time for you, Wayne. Is it all right if I call you Wayne?”

“Very good; build rapport, show sympathy. I think we should stop now. We’re almost back at the office.”

He drove into the office parking lot.

“Thank you, sir. I appreciate your help. Maybe I’ll buy you a beer sometime and you can tell me your whole story.”

“Sure.” Wayne
knew he’d never have that beer with Robert. He was an intensely private person. He had never told anyone how deeply his past affected him, how the things that happened long ago still determined his life. In fact, he had surprised himself by telling the young deputy as much as he did. Most of his stories stayed buried deep.

C
onnolly’s refusal to give them a saliva sample piqued Wayne’s interest, and he investigated the lawyer in detail. Ruby and her attorney had certainly been busy in the months leading up to her death. Wayne had discovered a wealth of information that pointed to an affair between Connolly and Ruby. They needed that court order for the saliva sample.

“Dory, which judge was going to sign the court order for Connolly?” He yelled out the door of his office.

“Judge Cochran.”

“Could you get him on the phone for me, please?”

“Well, I could get her on the phone.”

There was a short pause. “Yes, please, Dory.”

About fifteen minutes later, Dory buzzed his office to tell him that Judge Cochran was on the line.

“Hello, Judge Cochran?”

“Yes, this is she.” Wayne could tell from her tone that she was, in Southern parlance, “all bidness.”

“This is Detective Wayne Nichols with the Rose County Sheriff’s office. We requested a court order to obtain a cheek swab from attorney James Connolly. Has it been signed yet?”

“Detective, I’m not in the habit of jumping to sign court orders requesting a cheek swab from attorneys of the court. I need full justification for this.”

“Do you want to discuss this on the phone, ma’am, or do you need me to come to your office?”

“Neither. I need a written report with evidence that justifies such an order. This better not be a fishing expedition.”

“May I fax it over this afternoon?”

“Yes, you may. I’ll put you back on with my secretary. She’ll give you the fax number. Oh, and, Detective, make that report comprehensive.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Sighing, he hung up the phone and began
typing a report. After he was finished, he took it out to Dory.

“Dory, could you please
make sure this report is perfect and fax it to the Judge?

Dory rolled her eyes, but
checked his draft and faxed it over to Judge Cochran’s office.

Report for Judge Cornelia Cochran

March 25

1:30 p.m.

Sheriff Bradley’s office

Report prepared by: Wayne Nichols, Detective

Re: Obtaining a court order for a cheek swab from Attorney James G. Connolly

This office is investigating the death of Ruby Mead-Allison, D.O.D. March 15, 2013. Ms. Mead Allison was pregnant at the time of the post-mortem examination (M.E.’s Office March 19). There is reason to suspect James G. Connolly, attorney for the late Ms. Allison, of having carnal relations with the decedent.

Interviews with Mr. Connolly’s staff and careful perusal of his calendar indicates over twenty-five late evening meetings with Mrs. Allison, including dinner and alcoholic beverages on multiple occasions over a one-year period.

Mr. Connolly maintains an apartment in the city for late-night meetings. The apartment is cleaned only at the request of Mr. Connolly. On six separate occasions, on the day following his evening meeting with Mrs. Allison, Connolly instructed his staff to order cleaning services for the apartment. This included washing sheets and remaking the bed.

Sheriff’s department personnel interviewed Ms. Judy Grover on March 21. Ms. Grover is the cleaning person for the building at 406 Robert Street in which Mr. Connolly
has his apartment. Ms. Grover admitted seeing used condoms in the wastebasket when she cleaned. In addition, on one occasion, she found a thong (black undergarment) from Victoria’s Secret, size small.

Upon arrival at the M.E.’s Office for post-mortem examination, the
victim was wearing a thong undergarment purchased from Victoria’s Secret, size small. Another pair of underwear was found tangled in the sheets when they were changed. The lab ran a DNA analysis on the secretions on the undergarment found in Connolly’s apartment. The DNA found on the underwear matched the DNA from the victim’s body.

The above-mentioned evidence constitutes probable cause for a court order for a cheek swab from attorney James Connolly. He is a material suspect in the killing of Ms. Allison, who may have posed a serious risk for Mr. Connolly, given his marital status (married). He is the father of two children.
If Mr. Connolly was having carnal relations with one of his clients (to wit Mrs. Mead-Allison), he could be brought before the ethics board. This could be career-damaging to a family attorney’s practice.

Signed,

Wayne Nichols

Chief Detective

County of Rose

While waiting for the Judge’s reply,
Wayne walked down the hall to see if his young boss was in.

“Sheriff?”

Ben frowned, then looked up from his computer and asked Wayne to come in and sit down. “Where are we right now on the investigation?”

“I faxed the court order request to Judge Cochran for Connolly’s cheek swab. She’s insisting on a full report since Connolly is an attorney and an officer of the court.”

“Did you already speak with her?”

“Yes. She was firm about needing the paperwork.” Wayne
scowled.

“I could call and ask her to hurry up.” Ben grinned. “I am
her favorite nephew.”

“Well, that would have been good to know. I might not have needed to write the damn report.”

“You still would have needed to do the paperwork. Aunt Cornelia is a stickler. Let me know when she signs it. If we don’t get her approval today, I’ll call her. We’re running out of time.”

“I know we are.” Wayne stood up, nodded at Ben and walked out.

An hour later, Dory entered Wayne’s office. “Here’s the fax from the judge.”

“Thank you, Miss Dory.”

Dory winked at him. “Detective Nichols, do you have a girlfriend?”

“Why do you want to know? Miss Dory, are you auditioning?”

“Could be, Detective, could be. Or, maybe I’m asking on behalf of someone else. You’re so smart. I bet you’ll figure it out. Do you want me to tell the boss his auntie came through for us?”

All he could do was nod. She sashayed out of the room. Wayne shook his head, got up from his desk and collected Lab Tech Emma Peters to go to Connolly’s office with him. Dory loved to tease him. She was very attractive for a woman her age, but he’d never gotten a single vibe from her indicating that she might be interested. She was probably just messing with him.

When he first started working for the sheriff’s office, he overheard her sharing a piece of very confidential information. He was infuriated. He called her into his office and read her the riot act. Dory was undaunted. Her response startled him.

“You men always want complete confidentiality. Usually, I need to give a little information to get a more important piece of information in return.”

Over the next few weeks, he had realized how often Dory knew things that turned out to be enormously helpful.

“Life’s a web, Detective. We’re all inter-connected. If you disclose something about yourself, or ask for someone’s help with something, the other person feels safe in sharing something with you. Over time, there are no secrets.”

Wayne Nichols had many secrets. If he ever got closer to Dory, she’d probably find a way to uncover them all.

Wayne Nichols and Emma Peters arrived at Connolly’s office shortly before five. His secretary showed them in.

“Mr. Connolly, we have a court order for a cheek swab to determine if you’re the father of Ruby Mead-Allison’s child.”

“I’ll need to see the order.” Connolly’s face was flushed, and his light brown hair was rumpled. The smell of whiskey floated in the stale office air.

Wayne reached across the imposing rosewood desk and handed him the paperwork. He scanned it and nodded with a resigned expression.

“Please open your mouth.” He did and Emma deftly got a cheek swab from the inside of his cheek with a Q-tip. She put the Q-tip into a glass tube.

“Thank you, Mr. Connolly.” She snapped the top closed.

“We should have the results tomorrow. With all the effort the sheriff is putting into solving this case, the lab is running our stats immediately. If the swab establishes paternity, we’ll bring you in for more questioning,”

“Damn it, I didn’t murder the woman. If you try to bring me in for questioning, I warn you, I will have counsel present.”

“I assumed you would.” Wayne was calm.

They left the office and took the cheek swab immediately to the lab. Emma agreed to do the test right away and call the detective with the results as soon as possible.

“Thanks for bringing me along.” Emma smiled at Wayne as she gracefully exited the car.

“My pleasure.” There was a bit of extra sway in her walk. Nichols wondered if she knew he was paying attention.