One Dog Too Many (A Mae December Mystery) (3 page)

Tears welled up in her eyes. “I can’t believe Ruby’s not here for the protest today. I didn’t agree with her, but I respected her commitment to stopping development on our road. She organized the whole thing. Now she’ll never march again.”

“It’s not a problem to wait. I’ll come back. It looks like I’ll be in the area.”

Mae stood in her front yard
, watching him drive away. A bluebird flashed by in front of her, its back and wings a vivid streak of lapis. Everything was quiet and peaceful. For the first time in days, Elvis wasn’t barking. Maybe Patrick had done something to settle him down.

Mae walked into her kitchen. She was alone in the empty house; no one was sanding, painting or caulking. Joe had installed the new granite countertops, sanded and sealed the living room floor. The dining room was still an awful mauve color, but his crew would be repainting it soon. Mae had stripped all the woodwork on the staircase. The beautiful red color of the native cherry shone. She bit her lip.
Things last longer than people do
. Mae felt on the verge of tears again. She called her mother and left her a message about Ruby.

At about eight thirty that evening, Mae’s older sister July drove up her driveway. Mae walked out to meet her, enjoying the signs of spring. The early jonquils were blooming, their pale yellow trumpets radiant in the porch light. They walked into the house and July admired the new cabinets and countertops. She wanted to see the newest Porgi pups and picked them up gently, one at a time.

“There are three females and two males. Is that a good mix?” July asked.

“Most people seem to like the females, but if the puppy is a gift for a little boy, they like the males. Everything works out.”

“Mae, did you know there’s a press conference being covered by Channel Four News on your street? The reporters are down by the ditch near Ruby’s house. That’s where you found the body, right? Mama called and told me. I want to see if the news is on TV.”

A perky brunette reporter interviewed Sheriff Ben Bradley, who said the deceased’s name was Ruby Mead-Allison
, that she was a manager for country music artists, and that his department was treating her death as suspicious. The reporter pressed him to say whether Ruby had been murdered, but he declined to comment.
An older man stood beside the sheriff. He had salt-and-pepper hair brushed back from a receding hairline and a powerful build with a slight paunch. The sheriff identified him as Detective Wayne Nichols. They would both be talking with anyone who might have information about Ms. Mead-Allison’s death. They urged people in Rosedale, or the middle Tennessee viewing area, to call the tip line if they knew any relevant details. The TV flashed the phone number over and over on a continuous loop.

M
ae woke with a start. She lay on the couch with the television still on. July had gone home, leaving Mae two sleeping pills next to a glass of water. Mae picked them up and swallowed them with a big gulp of room-temperature water. After turning off the TV, she forced herself to walk upstairs and climb into bed. Her sleep was restless and troubled by terrible dreams.

When she went back downstairs in the morning, she found a note Patrick had left on top of the tarp covering her kitchen table. His note said Tallulah had eaten a grilled cheese sandwich and he’d be back later to help her look for Elvis. Mae remembered Patrick’s frowning face in the middle of the night. Oh, God, did he say he couldn’t find Elvis? Her stomach contracted with worry.

She flew out to the kennels with her cellphone in hand, praying Patrick had found Elvis before he left, but his dog run was empty. Patrick was often a source of mixed feelings. On the plus side, he had fixed Tallulah a grilled cheese sandwich, which she ate. One worry was off her mind. Tallulah would be able to nurse her puppies. Tube feeding them would have been an around-the-clock challenge. However, Patrick must have released Elvis for a quick run and the Pomeranian had never been trained to come when called. He certainly didn’t need to be running loose with a crime scene down the street. She called Patrick and thanked him for getting Tallulah to eat.

“What happened to Elvis?” she asked.

“I stopped back about eleven last night, but you were crashed, so I let Elvis out for a minute. He ran into the kitchen and barked so loud I thought he was upsetting Tallulah. I grabbed him and tried to put him back in the kennel, but he got away. I’m so sorry, Mae. I tried to wake you. You were pretty out of it.”

“It’s okay. July left me two sleeping pills last night. That must be why I slept as hard as I did. That little demon probably
did upset Tallulah, but now we have a free-range Elvis situation on our hands. Did you see which way he went?”

“He darted straight up the hill and into the woods. I tried to find him, but I couldn’t see a thing in the dark. I knew I’d be too tired to play in my tournament today if I didn’t get some sleep, so I had to go.”

Patrick worked constantly on his standings in disc golf, hoping to go pro by the summer. Apparently, it was of vital importance for him to participate in all the tournaments possible. She sighed, wished him luck and got off the phone.

Mae stood in her unfinished kitchen and considered her options. She could drive around and look for Elvis, but he wouldn’t surrender easily. However, she had seen several good-sized coyotes in the valley recently and he’d be no match for them. Mae grabbed her granddad’s old walking stick out of the hall closet and was on her way out the back door when the unmistakable sound of Joe’s decrepit work truck chugged up the drive. She ran out with the walking stick clutched in her hand.

“Whoa there, Hon. Where’re you going with that weapon?”

“I’m trying to find Elvis. He’s been missing since late last night.”

“Now, darlin’, it’s time you realized the King is dead.” Joe grinned. He must not have heard about Ruby yet, Mae thought or he wouldn’t be so lighthearted. Joe and Ruby, although they had clashed in recent times, had a history. He had been crazy about her back in their younger days.

“Joe, I’m looking for Ruby’s dog.
Patrick let him out late last night. Ruby’s … Oh, I can hardly tell you what’s happened. I found a body yesterday.” Her voice broke. “It was Ruby’s body. Someone killed her.”

The grin slid off his face, and she reached out to hold him. A shudder passed through his body as he grabbed Mae’s shoulders.

“Why wouldn’t she listen to me?” He sounded angry. “I told her to watch out for that guy. She always did everything the hard way.”

Who was he talking about? Before she could ask, the sheriff’s car pulled in behind Joe’s truck. Sheriff Bradley
and an overweight, redheaded deputy got out of the car. Joe released his grip on her shoulders and turned to face the sheriff.

“Hey, I hope I’m not interrupting anything here.” The sheriff grinned.

“Don’t be an ass,” Mae said.

The pudgy deputy put a hand to his mouth, partially stifling a laugh.

Then she shook her head. “Sorry, that was rude. Let’s start over. Good morning, Sheriff, I just told my contractor, Joe Dennis, about Ruby’s death. He’s a friend of mine. He’s also an old friend of Ruby’s. Naturally, he’s upset.”

Ben’s eyes narrowed a bit. “Are you an old friend or an old boyfriend?”

Joe took a deep breath and made a visible effort to control himself. “We dated a long time ago. Since then I’ve tried to be a friend to her. She didn’t have many.”

“I guess I’m going to need a statement from you too, Joe. This is Deputy George Phelps.
We’ll get your statement now, if that’s okay.”

“Sure.” Joe turned to Mae. “Could we do this inside?” he asked.

“Of course. Feel free to use the house and get yourselves some coffee. I’ll be back later. Right now I’ve got to go look for that dog.”

“Take your cellphone with you,” Sheriff Bradley called. “It’s not as safe as you might think around here.”

She took her phone out of her coat pocket, waved it at him and holding the walking stick, started up the hill. The minute she was out of sight she would call Tammy. She’d tried to reach her several times the previous day with no luck. By now, Tammy would have heard the news about Ruby’s death, but she wouldn’t know that it had been Mae who found the body.

She stepped into the trees and pressed three on speed dial.
Tammy didn’t answer. Mae left her a one-word message “Avalanche,” their code for a bad situation requiring help and/or chocolate. She’d know what to do when she got it.

After spending a fruitless twenty minutes looking for Elvis, Mae headed back down the hill and walked through her back door. Joe sat across from Ben at the kitchen table. Deputy Phelps stood by the back wall.
He was operating a small digital recorder.

Tammy was leaning against the wall behind Joe. Her short
silver-blond hair was artfully tousled and her makeup was flawless, as usual. With her diminutive size, heart-shaped face and huge brown eyes, she looked like a waif in need of rescue. Men responded instantly. In her hand was a bakery bag. On her face was an expression Mae knew very well. She was up to something. Mae could only hope she’d gotten home in time.

“Would it kill you to put on some lipstick?” Tammy hissed.

Mae pried the bakery bag from Tammy’s hand.

“Don’t eat both of those brownies.” She gave Mae a grin. “The smaller one is for me.”

None of the men said a word. Ben was reading a piece of paper on the table in front of him. Mae took her brownie out and handed the bag back to Tammy. After taking a few bites, she casually leaned over to see Ben’s reading material. He deftly slid the page under a newspaper, but not before she recognized the distinctive interlocked cherub logo at the top.

“When did you start using this new paper color, Tammy?” Mae kept her tone as mild as she could manage.

“Do you like it? I got tired of the pink, and I got a good deal on the copper color, so …” She let her voice trail off, having intercepted Mae’s evil glare. Tammy ran a dating service in Rosedale called Local Love. Mae had forbidden Tammy to put her information into her database. However, she could have sworn the sheriff was reading her profile.

Joe stood and picked up his keys. “I need to go. I’ll be in touch. You girls try not to fight.”

The men exchanged business cards. Ben kept his eyes on Mae the whole time. The sheriff was cute, but he was starting to get on her nerves.

“Is that my profile you’re reading? I’m sure it’s very boring.”

“Actually, I’m reading this article in the newspaper called the ‘Battle of Little Chapel Road.’ It’s very interesting. The article mentions Ruby several times. She and Aubrey Stillwell had quite the feud going. Don’t be mad at your friend. She only gave me your profile to bring me up to speed.”

“Up to speed on what? Never mind, I’ll deal with my friend later. Who’s Aubrey Stillwell?”

“Honestly, Mae,” Tammy said, “don’t you read your mother’s column? He’s the road commissioner for Rose County.” She shrugged. “Don’t worry. It’s not like I run around town passing out your profile to random men.”

The sheriff snorted faintly.

Tammy tossed her head. “I wrote down a few salient details a few weeks ago. I was going to show it to you. It’s been more than a year. I was hoping you might be ready to start dating again.”

Mae closed her eyes. When she opened them, Tammy and Ben were both gazing at her with similar expressions of concern.

“It’s all right. I’ll tell you when I’m ready. I usually do read Mama’s columns.”

“Your mother writes the ‘Suzanne about Town’ column
?”

Mae nodded.

“I’d like to ask her for some background. And I still need to get a statement from you.”

“I’ll give you my statement. Mama usually comes by around mid-morning to say hello to her dogs. I’m keeping them here during her landscaping project. She’s putting in a big water fountain and it’s impossible to keep Kudzu and Lil’bit from digging everything up. I’m sure she’d love to talk to you.”

Tammy left shortly thereafter, saying she’d be happy for the sheriff to interrogate her at any time, but she’d let Mae go first. When Mae looked at her in exasperation, Tammy merely smiled and took her leave.

“Miss December, I’d like to take your statement now, if that’s okay.”

“Of course, that’s fine. Won’t you please call me Mae?”

He shook his head. “Not while you’re part of a murder investigation.”

“So, Ruby was murdered?”

He nodded. “Yes, but we’re not making it public yet. Please keep it to yourself.”

“Am I a part of this?” She tried to control the quaver in her voice.

“Well, you reported Ruby missing, saying you wanted to wring her neck, and then the next day you reported finding her body. Your fingerprints are all over her red boot. Yes, I’d say you’re definitely a part of this.”

“Sheriff, I’m not considered a suspect, am I? I’d be the last person to wish Ruby dead. You know I only wanted to get Elvis out of here and back to her.”

“So you said. Elvis isn’t much of an alibi, though. I’d like to see him, by the way. Is he in the kennel?”

“Actually, Patrick let him out last night and he didn’t come back. He’s the dog I was out looking for earlier.”

“Elvis is missing?”

“Yes, he’s missing, but hopefully not for long. He’s a tough little dog and he’s fast. I’m sure he’ll be back soon. Patrick will tell you the same thing.”

The sheriff looked frustrated. Mae quietly added some fresh coffee to his cup and glanced enquiringly at Deputy Phelps, who shook his head. Mae turned her attention back to the sheriff.

“Miss December, let me read this to you, please. It’s what I have in my notes from our conversations. ‘On March eighteenth, Mae December (of fifteen oh nine Little Chapel Road) went to Ruby Mead-Allison’s house in hopes of finding her at home. She planned to return Ms. Mead-Allison’s dog that she was boarding. She noted a red boot in the flowerbed by the rear of the house, put the boot in her tote bag and brought it to the sheriff’s office.’ Did you do anything else while you were there?”

“Well, I set her mailbox back up on the post—it was down in the ditch. Oh, and it was empty. Ruby must have gotten home before yesterday and picked up her mail. I also peeked in the garage window and opened the side door. Her car was there. Did I mention that she drove herself to the airport? When I saw her car, I knew she
’d returned from her vacation.”

“All right, I’ll add that. ‘On March nineteenth
, Mae December walked her dogs around eight fifteen a.m. when Mr. Jack Ryan approached, without his dog.’ ” He paused. “Tell me what happened then.”

“I spoke to him about his ankle, which he thought might be sprained, and I walked him home. Then I went past the place where I saw him originally and started calling his dog, Toast.”

He smiled. “There are an awful lot of dogs in this case.”