One Dog Too Many (A Mae December Mystery) (2 page)

Dog pregnancies were approximately nine weeks long and Mae always had her vet x-ray Tallulah at seven weeks. Luckily, the dog could deliver without a C-section. The vet had state-of-the-art imaging equipment, so they had known that she would deliver five puppies for this, her fourth, and probably last litter. Pregnancy was hard on small dogs, and other breeders had told Mae that more than four litters could be unhealthy for the mother.

By the time all five pups were clean, dry, and nursing greedily, Mae’s headache had vanished. She spent some time talking with Joe
, her contractor, about the kitchen cabinets and the new granite countertops. He was a very cute and hardworking MOC (married, of course) with four little kids. Thin and wiry with sandy hair and green eyes, he sported a perpetual tan from his outdoor work and was a little shorter than Mae. He grew up down the street and had done most of the home remodels and repairs in the area. When she and Noah bought the house three years ago, several neighbors had recommended him. Joe impressed her with his careful work and they had since become good friends. He was leaving when the phone rang. The caller ID showed Suzanne December.

“Hi, Mama, how are you?” Mae said.

“I’m fine, honey, and you?”

“Well, I’ve had quite the morning. You remember Ruby Mead-Allison’s dog, Elvis?”

“Um hum, is the little wretch still with you?”

“Yes, and it’s been sixteen days. This morning I ran over to Ruby’s to try to drop him off. She still wasn’t home and I found the strangest thing. One of her fancy red boots was in the flowerbed by the back door. I took the boot to the sheriff’s office.”

“Whatever for?”

“I started to worry that something might have happened to her. She was wearing those boots when she dropped Elvis off. They’re custom made, probably cost her a fortune
, and she was headed to the airport when she left my place.”

“Wasn’t she going to Hawaii? She could have been rerouted because of that terrible storm. Or maybe she’s hiding out because she doesn’t want the miserable little beast back.”

Mae laughed. “I don’t think she’d pay for more boarding than she has to, and the woman plainly loves Elvis. The sheriff said the same thing about the storm. She probably ran into delays on her way back. If that’s the case though, why was her car in the garage?”

“That is kind of odd. But on another note, I’m sure you know the conflict about your road is really heating up. Ruby will definitely be back in time for the meeting of the Road Commission tomorrow night. I think there’s another protest scheduled in your neighborhood. She wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

“I can’t think of a single reason why the road shouldn’t be widened,” Mae said. “I know Ruby doesn’t want it, but even she’ll have to see reason eventually.”

Suzanne snorted inelegantly. “I doubt it. See if you can fish the newspaper out of the recycling and read my column. You’ll get the picture. Ruby is really stirring things up. Anyway, do you want to come over for dinner tonight? Dad and I are having steak and there’s plenty. Your sister and Fred are coming with the kids.”

“I’ll pass. Thanks. Tallulah had her puppies this morning. I shouldn’t leave her alone yet.”

“She did? That’s wonderful! Is Tallulah okay? How many puppies did she have?”

Mae laughed at her mother’s enthusiastic response. “She’s fine. There are five healthy puppies. It’s all good.”

They said their goodbyes and Mae spent a few minutes imagining Ruby in an airport somewhere, pacing impatiently, demanding to know why the bar didn’t stock Grey Goose with bleu cheese stuffed olives and making everyone around her miserable. The old saying about dogs and owners being alike was definitely true about Elvis and Ruby—both feisty redheads. No doubt, she’d be back soon. Ruby could be fun when she felt like making the effort. She was a
manager for country music artists and sometimes shared salacious anecdotes about her clients at parties. Despite her stiff-necked prickliness, everyone would welcome Ruby home.

Sometimes when Mae drove down River Road to turn onto Little Chapel, she remembered finding the area
for the first time with Noah, the man she had loved passionately and planned to marry. The disastrous car wreck that took his life had been a little over a year ago. According to the police, he took a turn too fast and careened down the hill to crash against a tree. She still felt a wave of sorrow whenever she thought of him.

When she and Noah discovered Little Chapel Valley,
they felt they had stumbled into a secret place, one much farther than thirty miles away from Nashville. The road wound through a valley, protected by high hills on either side. The landscape was green and leafy. The day she and Noah first came here he had said, “I think we’re in Narnia.” Mae had felt the same.

They had wondered if the road was an old Indian trail and, perhaps even earlier, a track made by the local deer population.
In the spring she often saw deer with their fawns, moving silently through the valley and raising their white-flag tails. They seemed almost magical to her.

But now her Noah was gone
. It still didn’t seem real. A tear slid down Mae’s cheek. Although she still grieved for him and missed him every day, Mae had found a home on Little Chapel road. She always felt safe here.

At first she worried that her neighbors would object to a kennel on their street, but everyone had been great about her business. She’d been careful to maintain the historic appearance of her sprawling old farmhouse. The old barn had to be replaced, but she tucked the new one for the dogs she boarded in the exact location of the original behind the house. Other than some repairs and a coat of fresh paint, the big white house with its wraparound porch and the little red barn looked identical to the old black and white photos Mae had found in the attic. The small “Mae’s Place” sign that she’d put up by her mailbox was the only change visible to her neighbors. A close-knit group, they even treated Ruby well, despite the nearly constant trouble she tended to stir up.

That night Mae dreamed she was walking through an endless house, a long skirt of blue velvet swirling around her ankles. She entered room after room, crowded with puppies of different sizes and breeds. In the dim light, she tried to sort them by age and color, getting them ready for their owners to pick
up. A chocolate lab pup followed her everywhere, holding the hem of her skirt in his mouth. She gazed down into his green eyes and he looked back steadily, wagging his tail.

“You have to let go now. I hear the doorbell.”

Bending down, she pulled her skirt hem out of his mouth and turned away. She woke up with the phone ringing in her hand and the sheets twisted tightly around her legs.

“Hello.”

There was no response. Just breathing.

She was fully awake now. “Who is this?”

A man’s voice on the other end let out a laugh.

Sweat ran down between her breasts in the cool night air. “Tell me who you are. What do you want?”

“Good night, Miss December.” There was a click, followed by a dial tone.

E
lvis permitted Mae and the other dogs to sleep until almost eight the next morning, possibly the result of the warm milk she had given him at bedtime—laced with a few drops of brandy. The spring sunshine warmed the grass outside. Mae took her coffee to the front porch and sat there petting Titan, who gazed soulfully into her eyes, glad to have some attention. The forsythias were blooming and the front yard spread out below her, green and peaceful. The new kitchen countertops would arrive today. Mae took the opportunity, as she did almost every morning, to call Tammy, her best friend since the sixth grade. They had both gone to Rosedale Middle School and then high school together.

Tammy, an inveterate morning person, sounded happy to talk, even at this hour. That is, until Mae told her about her
dream and the call that woke her from her restless sleep.

“That’s a little scary, Mae-Mae. Are you sure you didn’t dream the whole thing?”

“Yes, I’m sure. I almost recognized his voice when he called me Miss December.”

“Did you try star sixty-nine?”

“I tried to do that once and was told it wasn’t part of my package. It was probably just some weirdo. If he calls again, I might get rid of the house phone and keep only my cell and the landline for the kennel.”

“That’s a good idea.”

Mae felt better. Tammy always lifted her mood. She wouldn’t waste any more time on some mouth-breather with nothing better to do than call her in the middle of the night.

“It’ll be fine. I should get on with my morning and let you go. Have a good day, Tammy. Bye.”

Mae busied herself feeding all the dogs, except Tallulah, who hadn’t eaten since delivering her pups and would only drink water. Next, she cleaned out the kennels. Back in her kitchen, she fed her bread starter and checked the calendar for the next time she needed to make bread. Her friend Cindy had given her the starter for Amish Friendship bread last year. It required some babysitting to cultivate, but the bread was delicious. She planned to make a batch of apricot walnut bread soon and made sure she had all the ingredients.

Cindy had given the starter to Mae after Noah’s death. At the time, she had protested, saying the last thing she needed was something else to take care of. She could barely care for herself, let alone the dogs. But Cindy made her promise to try it out and pass along the starter when she had extra. In return, she helped Mae with the dogs. She learned a lot about dog training from Cindy and to Mae’s surprise, she had enjoyed making the bread. Cindy lived in L.A. now but she emailed Mae often about her career as a trainer and dog walker for the stars.

Mae went out to the barn and put leashes on the two largest dogs in her boarding kennel, a Great Dane and a Rhodesian Ridgeback. After walking for about a mile, they came upon her neighbor, Mr. Ryan, walking alone. It was strange to see him without his dog, as the two of them were always together. His dog’s name was Tószt (Hungarian for toast) but since no one could pronounce the word properly, everyone just called her Toast. Mr. Ryan was limping.

“Good morning. Are you all right?” Mae asked.

He was breathing hard and his face was pale. “Good morning, Mae. I’m fine, I just slipped and one of my feet went down into a pothole. How I wish they’d fix this road! I think I sprained my ankle. Tószt has run off. When I tripped, she pulled the leash right out of my hands. Who are these big guys?” He indicated her two boarding dogs, sitting quietly at her feet.

“This is Rusty.” The Ridgeback wagged his swooping tail. “And the Dane is Christiansen. We’ll walk you home. Then I’ll see if I can find Toast.”

They walked slowly to his house and Mae saw him safely inside, where Mrs. Ryan grabbed him some aspirin, a bag of ice, and a stretch bandage, before leaving to look for his dog—a Hungarian Viszla pointer. It didn’t take Mae long to locate her. Toast was standing at the eastern end of Ruby’s property, near the road. With her beautiful strawberry blond coloring and strong but slender build, she exemplified the breed standard. Mae had loved Toast since the Ryans brought her home two years ago as a puppy.

“Toast, come here.” Mae walked closer. Toast’s slender nose was pointed toward a little copse of trees and brush. Three black vultures were perched in one of the trees. Rusty whined, straining forward against his leash
and a low growl rumbled from Christiansen. When Mae directed her gaze toward the area beneath the tree, she saw a flash of red. There was a sickly sweet smell and a sudden sense of dread made her stop in her tracks. She took a deep breath and made herself start walking again. As she neared the grove, one of the vultures flew down and landed on a red boot. The boot was on a foot. Her eyes travelled up the leg, then the torso. Below the head, a rubber-coated metal cord was curled around a long white neck that lay at an awkward angle. Mae was horrified to see that the woman’s eyes were open and that there were flies in her open mouth. Mae gagged. It was her neighbor, Ruby. She was dead.

Mae staggered back and grabbed Toast’s leash. With all three dogs in tow, she ran as fast as she could. She had to get home. She’d be safe there. That was the only thought in her head. When she got to the house, she put the dogs in the front fenced pasture and closed the gate. Her stomach heaved, and she pushed the door open, tumbling into the kitchen. She leaned against the wall for a minute and then slid down to the floor. After catching her breath, she stood up, grabbed the phone and called Noah’s younger brother, Patrick. He was always helpful in a crisis.

“Hello.” Patrick’s voice issued sleepily from the receiver.

She couldn’t speak for a moment.

“Mae, are you there?”

“Patrick, you have to come over here right now.”

“Are you all right?”

She drew a ragged breath. “No, not really. Can you please come?”

“Okay. I’ll be right there. Hang on.”

She
managed to say “thank you” before pushing the off button. Ruby’s one bare foot flashed in front of her mind’s eye—bluish-white, with dark red polish on her toes. Mae shook her head to clear it. She didn’t want to picture Ruby’s violent death. She took a deep breath to steady herself and called the Ryans to let them know she’d found Toast.

Patrick arrived shortly. He came through the door, shirt buttons askew and black hair standing on end, a frown of concern clouding his features. “What’s wrong?”

Mae’s voice shook. “I found my neighbor … I found Ruby’s … Oh Patrick, I found her body.”

“What do you mean ‘her body’? Is she dead?”

Mae nodded wordlessly, staring into Patrick’s pale blue eyes. There was a moment of pin-drop silence before he gathered her into his arms. She surrendered gratefully to his hug. His tall rangy body reminded her so much of Noah’s. After a moment, he pulled away, giving her a worried look.

“Where did you find her? Did you call nine-one-one?”

“No, but I should have. If you ever find a dead body, you’ll know how awful I felt. I panicked.”

Turning away from him, Mae realized that she was calm enough now to pick up the phone and dial the familiar number.

“Rose County Sheriff’s office, Dory Clarkson speaking. How may I direct your call?”

“Dory, it’s Mae. I need to talk to Sheriff Bradley.”

“What do you need to talk to him about?”

“Just tell him I found Ruby. Oh, Dory, she’s dead.”

“I’ll get him, honey. Sit tight.”

While she waited for Sheriff Bradley to come to the phone, Mae distracted herself from the image of Ruby’s pitiful body by thinking about the ageless Dory. Her mother’s friend was single now, but she had been married to Elmer Clarkson for many years.

Mama always said that Elmer had enormous charm and charisma. He left Rosedale years ago, but he and Dory were still in touch. Elmer was a talented bass player. According to Mama, he continued to play small gigs all over the middle south.

Mae glanced over at Patrick. He was standing very still, looking out the kitchen window. With his back to her, he could have been Noah’s double. Making a marriage work with a musician had proved impossible for Dory and Elmer. Would her marriage to Noah have worked out? As a songwriter and musician, he would have been on the road many months of the year.

When Sheriff Bradley’s voice came on the phone, Mae quickly told him about Ruby’s body.

“Go back to where you found her. I’m going to call the medical examiner and we’ll meet you there.” He sounded very calm, a lot calmer than she felt. Mae hung up and turned to Patrick.

“He said to go back to where I found her.”

“C’mon. I better drive.”

They went out to Patrick’s car.

“Go right, down past Ruby’s house.”

He nodded wordlessly.

Patrick pulled to the side of the road at the spot she indicated and shut the car off. They sat silently near the small grove of trees where Mae had found Ruby’s body.

“Where is she?” he asked.

Mae pointed to the spot where she had found Ruby earlier. She couldn’t walk back to the body, but Patrick did. She watched from the car as he went quickly to the grove of trees and looked down. He froze for a second then walked back to the car with a look of horror on his face.

“Well, did you see her?”

He got back in on the driver’s side and sat staring down at his hands, which were clenched tightly in his lap.

“You didn’t tell me she had a cord around her neck. Mae, Ruby was murdered.”

Within minutes, Sheriff Bradley arrived with several other officers. They immediately surrounded the grove of trees with yellow crime-scene tape. Mae and Patrick watched from the car as more vehicles arrived, including a van with a “Crime Scene Investigations” side panel. An elderly man in a coat and tie got out.

Mae could tell, parked on the edge of the street, that she and Patrick were making Little Chapel Road even more of a hazard than usual. Patrick walked over to the sheriff, spoke with him for a few minutes and then returned. “The sheriff said we can go, but he wants you to be available when he’s ready to talk to you.”

They went back to Mae’s house and sat down at the kitchen table.

“So it’s possible she was murdered?” Mae’s hands involuntarily went to her throat.

“There’s nothing possible about it,” said Patrick. “She had a cord around her neck. Somebody strangled her. I wonder why?”

Mae went through the recycling bin and pulled out some of her mother’s columns, entitled “Suzanne about Town.”

“I have to take off, Mae. Will you be okay?”

“I think so. Thanks for coming when I needed you.” She dropped into a chair cluttered with old newspapers and a blanket. Maybe reading would distract her from the awful vision of Ruby lying in the damp grass, her wet nightgown twisted around her legs, splayed out like a rag doll. Mae got queasy again just thinking about it.

The sheriff knocked on her door an hour later. After a brief greeting, he stared at her intently. “You look awful. Would you like a drink of water before we get started?”

She laughed. “Where did you learn how to talk to women? You never start by telling them how bad they look, even when it’s true. Yes, thank you, I’d like some water before you interrogate me. I’ll get some from the fridge.”

He shook his head. “I’m not going to interrogate you. I only need you to walk me through the events of the morning. Let me get the water.”

He went over to the refrigerator and opened the door.

“The bottles are on the bottom shelf.”

The sheriff bent over.
He has a cute behind
. She smiled at him when he handed her the cold bottle. The corners of his blue eyes crinkled when he smiled back. What kind of inappropriate behavior was this? She hadn’t felt like flirting with anyone since Noah died. Now, after finding her neighbor’s dead body, she was acting as if she were back in high school. She stood up unsteadily, grasping the edge of the countertop. “I don’t feel very good. I’m not sure I can do this right now.”

“I’ll have to get your statement at some point,
Miss December, but I need to go back to the crime scene anyway, check on my team and get rid of the spectators. If you’d rather wait, I can talk to you later.”