One Dog Too Many (A Mae December Mystery) (4 page)

She nodded absently, still upset at recounting her discovery of Ruby’s body.

“What happened next?”

“I kept calling Toast. I found her near a small grove of trees. When I got close enough, I noticed she was in a full point position.”

“Okay, and this grove of trees that the dog was pointing to is near the road you live on, but about thirty yards off the road, correct? It was actually on Ruby’s property?”

“Yes, right. I went to see what she was pointing at and noticed something red at the base of one of the trees.” She stopped, overcome with nausea.

“Go on. What happened then?”

“Just a minute.” Mae went to the refrigerator and took out a pitcher of fruit tea. She poured a glass and added ice. She stood and looked out her window for a moment, seeing the lush spring morning that contrasted starkly with Ruby’s demise.
She took a few deep breaths to compose herself before she turned back to the sheriff.

“When I got over to the trees, I saw a red boot. The boot was on a foot. Ruby’s foot.”

“Then what happened?”

“I had three dogs with me. Somehow, I got all the dogs back to my house and put them in the pasture. I ran inside and practically fell on the kitchen floor.”

“What did you do next?”

“After taking a couple of minutes to calm myself down, I called Patrick.”

“Could you tell me Patrick’s last name and his relationship to you?”

“It’s West. Patrick is Noah’s brother. I used to be engaged to Noah.” She felt calmer, but still upset, as flashes of Ruby’s cold, bedraggled body came back to her.

The sheriff’s eyes widened. “Noah West? Is that why you broke off the engagement? Because you didn’t want to change your name to Mae West?”

There was a faint snicker from Deputy Phelps.

Mae shot him a withering glare before turning her attention back to the sheriff. Clearly, she’d been right to call him an ass.

“Noah died in a car accident last February.”

She had awakened to the sound of her doorbell late one night. Nashville police officers stood on her porch. Moths circled under her porch light. As soon as she saw the men standing there, she knew Noah was gone.

The sheriff’s face flushed brick red. “I apologize, that was out of line.”

He checked his notes and cleared his throat. “So, you called Patrick and he came to your house? How long before he got here?”

“He came right over. It took maybe ten minutes.”

“What did you do while you waited for him?”

“I called Mr. Ryan to tell him I had found Toast. I didn’t want them to be out looking for her.”

“So I assume you told Mr. Ryan about finding Ruby’s body.”

He sounded irritated now.

“Yes, of course I did. I also told him his dog was fine. She hadn’t touched the body.”

He gave her a sharp look. “Are you sure the dog didn’t touch the body?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Viszlas hold the point until given the command to proceed. She’s very well trained. I worked on her training with both the Ryans. She would have held her point perfectly.”

“When did you call my office?”

“When Patrick got to the house, I told him what I’d found. He said I should have called nine-one-one immediately, but since I hadn’t, I called your office.”

“Why didn’t you call nine-one-one?”

What was it with these men? They acted as if they’d be perfectly calm in the same situation, but she highly doubted it. Well, maybe the sheriff would. It was his job, after all.

“I was totally rattled. I’d never seen a dead body before. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Okay, we’re almost finished. Do you have any more coffee?”

“Yes, of course. Do you like it?”

“The coffee? Yes, it’s good. Much better than what Dory makes at the station.”

Mae’s peripheral vision caught a glimpse of something moving quickly. Mama’s car flew up the drive. “My mother’s here
,” Mae said with a feeling of relief.

R
aised by a good Southern mother, Sheriff Ben Bradley immediately stood up when Mrs. December came in the room. She was slim and striking with short dark hair, in contrast to her daughter, who was blonde and curvier. She tsk’d as she walked past a pile of wood shavings swept into a corner of the room. Mae closed her eyes briefly but didn’t move to sweep it up. Ben wondered whether Mae resented her mother’s efforts to improve her housekeeping, but then noticed Mae was unfazed by the implied criticism. In fact, Mae seemed calmer with her mother present.

“I’m Suzanne December and it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Sheriff. I know your parents. They’re lovely people.” She smiled and took his hand in a surprisingly firm grip.

“Thank you, Ma’am. This is Deputy Phelps. He’s helping me out today.”

George Phelps nodded at Mrs. December but didn’t offer his hand in greeting. Instead he stayed near the digital
recorder. Ben sighed inwardly at George’s lack of social graces. To his dismay, George displayed a pretty lackadaisical approach to his job in general. His shirt was buttoned wrong over his pudgy stomach. He had inherited Phelps from the previous sheriff so he tried to be philosophical about his deputy. Due to his length of service, removing him from his position would be a nightmare and, once in a great while, George found out something useful.

“I’m here in connection with the death of Ruby Mead-Allison. Her death may tie in with the controversy surrounding the widening of Little Chapel Road. I was hoping that you could give me some background on the issue.”

“I’m happy to do anything to help the law, and especially such a handsome young man in uniform.” She smiled flirtatiously at Ben.

“Mother, would you like some coffee?” Mae stood at the sink with her back to them.“No thank you, dear. Let’s see … The effort to widen Little Chapel Road began about five years ago when the road commissioner, Aubrey Stillwell, proposed an extensive widening project. Mae, there are nine houses on this street, correct?”

Mae nodded.

“All nine families rejected Mr. Stillwell’s original proposal to make Little Chapel Road a four lane boulevard. Then there was the regrettable incident involving the Jensen boy. Do you remember that, Sheriff?”

“I think so, but I was new on the job then. Could you refresh my memory?”

“The boy was waiting for the school bus, standing ankle-deep in water with shrubs all around him. This road has no shoulders and no true bus stop. When the bus came, the driver didn’t see him. The school secretary called the parents because he wasn’t at school. Since his parents knew he had gone down to the bus stop, they were in a panic. Before the whole incident was over, the police were on site and divers were prepared to search the river. Luckily, someone spotted the little boy walking near the school and called his parents.”

“What is the current plan for the road?”

“Mama, I can tell him about the current plan,” Mae said. The road will still have two lanes, but they
’ll be much wider. There will be shoulders and a bus stop. They can do all that without impacting the slave wall.”

Ben Bradley cocked his head. “Tell me about the slave wall.” When he first saw the traffic counting cord around Ruby’s neck, he sensed that her opposition to widening the road might be the motive for her murder. He adjusted his posture to a more alert stance and listened intently.

Mae walked away from the sink to stand in front of a huge painting—an abstract landscape in vivid colors—hanging on the only wall in the kitchen that seemed totally finished. “Malone” was painted across the bottom right corner of the canvas in bold red letters.

“Excuse me, Mrs. December
, but I just noticed the painting. I have one of his works, too.” Ben walked over to the artwork.

He caught the look Mae exchanged with her mother.
What was that about?
.

“Sorry to interrupt you, Ma’am.”

Suzanne cleared her throat, “Please have a seat at the table with me, Sheriff. As I was saying, slave walls are those old dry stacked rock walls that line roads and divide pasture land throughout Tennessee. They go back to the seventeen hundreds and slaves built most of them. Many people feel that if the walls are allowed to disappear, much of the area’s charm will go with them.”

“Thank you. Now, can either of you tell me how Ruby fits into this picture?”

Suzanne continued. “Ruby Mead-Allison was totally opposed to widening the road. She filed a lawsuit to prevent the action. I thought the suit was frivolous and was surprised when James Connolly, her attorney, took on the case. Ruby always was a spoiled child. She insisted on getting her way and was a little too free with her person in high school and college. Are you getting all this, Sheriff?”

Ben stifled a grin.
“Free with her person” was an awfully refined way of saying the girl slept around.

“Yes, Ma’am. Thank you. This is very helpful.”

Suzanne smiled. “Before the judge ruled on the action, he asked to have the traffic volume measured. Aubrey Stillwell did that, using a laser light system, and the results favored the need to widen the road. Then Ruby dug up some information about the laser light equipment being unreliable. She purchased one of those cords that lie across the road and count vehicles. Her testing showed slightly different results. Mae, I think I’ll have that coffee after all.”

Mae was standing by the large window over the sink, looking out toward the barn and the trees behind the house.
As she brought over the coffee pot and a cup for her mother, Ben took a moment to look around. Although the house was in the process of being remodeled, he could see that the wall between the old kitchen and the dining area had been removed. Light flooded both spaces. The cabinets were white and a period after Shaker style. There was a pot of red geraniums on the windowsill. It was a pleasant space.

“The road commission hearings degenerated into free-for-alls. Two weeks ago, poor Mr. Stillwell announced that he’d delayed his retirement. He said he’d do so again if necessary, just so we could have Little Chapel Road meet the standards of the county. He just hoped he’d live long enough to see it happen. Is this what you needed?”

“Yes. This information has been extremely helpful. As you probably already know, Ruby didn’t die a natural death. Do you have any ideas about who might have had problems with her?”

“I’ve already heard several theories,” Suzanne said. “Some say Mr. Stillwell snapped and killed her. I don’t believe it for a moment. I’ve known Aubrey since we were in high school. I’ve also heard people say David Allison might have done it. They were in the middle of a contentious divorce. David is staying down the street with his business partner Steven Fanning. I assume David would inherit Ruby’s property if she died before their divorce was final.”

“Provided he wasn’t involved in her murder,” Ben said, coolly.

“Quite so,” Suzanne said. There was a short silence. “I’ve heard rumors that Ruby’s attorney, James Connolly, once tried to ditch her frivolous lawsuit, but she forced him to pursue it. His aunt and uncle live at the end of Little Chapel
Road, down by the river, and they signed the petition to support the widening, but people say Ruby utterly refused to allow Connolly to drop it.”

Ben stood up from the table. Mae was picking up cups and carrying them to the sink.
His eyes lingered on her graceful movements and curvaceous figure. “Thank you both again. We’ll definitely check all these folks out. Right now, I think I’ll pay a visit to David Allison.” Ben knew that, other than the person who found the body, the most likely killer was a spouse or ex-spouse.

Mrs. December stopped him as he and Deputy Phelps were leaving.

“Since there’s been a murder here on the street, I expect you and your force will keep a particular eye on Mae. She lives here all by herself, you know. I need your assurance that you’ll protect her.”

Ben tried unsuccessfully to suppress an image of Mae clinging to him, begging for protection. He really needed to get a life.

“You don’t need to worry. We’ll be patrolling the street.”

He paused on the porch and heard Mae’s voice. “Mama, I can take care of myself.”

“Of course you can, sweetie, but it doesn’t hurt for the sheriff to be reminded that you’re here alone. He certainly is a handsome man, isn’t he? Good taste in art too.”

Both women laughed. George looked at Ben with his eyebrows raised. Ben stopped eavesdropping and hurried out to his car. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to hear Mae’s answer to her mother’s question and he definitely didn’t need his deputy to hear it.

Ben drove back into Rosedale and dropped Phelps at the office. As his deputy was getting out of the car, Ben said, “George, I need information on Ruby’s financial situation. Can you handle that?”

“Me, boss?
” George asked, sounding astonished. “Doesn’t Dory usually do that sort of thing?”

“You two can work together on the money angle,” he said firmly. If he didn’t give George a job, he knew the deputy would while the day away on the
Internet. Driving away, he mentally reviewed the most likely suspects in Ruby’s killing, coming up with the husband, road commissioner, attorney, unknown lover, and old boyfriend.

He called Wayne Nichols’ cell and they agreed to meet for lunch. He wanted the older detective with him for David Allison’s interrogation
. Ben respected Wayne as a detective. At fifty-eight years of age, he had the experience and skills that allowed him to pry deeply held information out of suspects and had a very high “solve” rate. However, Wayne tended to treat him as the new kid on the block, and Dory was no help, often laughing at his naïveté. He knew he was still earning their respect. Between Wayne and Dory, he had an uphill climb to be seen as the boss at only thirty-two years of age.

Driving to the restaurant, Ben
reluctantly acknowledged his shortcomings when it came to investigating such a high profile murder. Detective Wayne Nichols had worked fifty murders or more. Ben had only worked two previous murders and each one had ended with a spontaneous confession. This victim wasn’t some lowlife druggie or hired thug. This was the murder of the only daughter of the most prominent family in Rosedale. Unlike his detective, who seemed to relish the idea of hunting for a killer, Ben feared he was out of his depth.