One Dog Too Many (A Mae December Mystery) (6 page)

A
t around two o’clock that afternoon Sheriff Ben Bradley and Detective Wayne Nichols got to the Fannings’ place, where David Allison was staying. The CSI Tech, Hadley Johns, waited in the driveway. He would tape the interview with Ruby’s estranged husband and collect any necessary samples from the house. Tech Johns followed them to the door, and the sheriff knocked. A tall man with dark straight hair, glasses and a sad expression answered the door. He wore jeans and a sweatshirt.

“Are you David Allison?” Ben asked.

“Yes.” The man sounded tired.

Ben introduced himself, as did Detective Nichols and Tech Johns.

“May we come in?” We need to get a statement from you.”

David took a deep breath. He turned and led them through the living room without actually inviting them in. The four of them sat down on stools at the kitchen island. David explained that he had been temporarily living with his business partner
at the architecture firm, Steven Fanning, due to complications in his marriage and that he had been working from Steven’s house on the day of the murder.

“Both Detective Nichols and I will be asking some questions about your relationship with the victim, Ruby Mead-Allison. We are taping this interview.”

Hadley unobtrusively started the digital recorder.

“I don’t understand. I already went in and talked to someone about this.”

“That was to identify your wife, sir.” Wayne’s low voice sounded soothing. Ben knew his detective was good at getting people to talk. Often just his voice and reassuring demeanor sufficed to calm people down. “I know that must have been very difficult, and we appreciate your help, but the sheriff and I need to interview you about any events leading up to the night of the fifteenth. I’m sure you understand.”

David nodded.

A blue-eyed, brown-haired woman with a ready smile came into the room and introduced herself as Steven Fanning’s wife, Robin.

“I’m sorry to intrude on you, Mrs. Fanning, but we need to ask Mr. Allison some questions.” Ben tipped his head at Detective Nichols, their nonverbal signal for him to continue the interview.

“Mr. Allison, I’d like to confirm some things. You’re married to Ruby Mead-Allison, correct?”

David nodded. “We were getting a divorce.”

“I understand. However, the two of you were still married at the time of her death, right?”

“Yes.” His eyes were fixed on his lap and he fiddled with a hangnail on his thumb.

“The M.E. informed us that Ruby died on the evening of the fifteenth. We’d like your clothes from that day and evening. Do you send your shirts out to be laundered professionally?”

“I do.” He smoothed his hair back, apparently a nervous habit. His forehead was shiny with sweat.

“Is there a hamper or basket where you keep them until they’re ready to go?”

“I can help,” Robin Fanning said, “I have David’s shirts. I planned to take them to the laundry today. They’re in my car.” She and Tech Johns left to collect the clothing.

“Can you tell us where you were on March fifteenth?”

“Just a moment, let me get my planner.” David left the room and returned carrying a pocket calendar.

“March fifteenth was the day some V.I.P.s were here from Memphis. We had meetings at the office and then all of us went to dinner.”

A small dog came into the room, nails clicking on the polished wood floor. The dog growled at the big detective and snapped in the air as he reached to pet him. Ben recognized the little red fluff from Mae December’s tote bag at the office.

“That’s enough, Elvis,” Ben said. The little dog settled down. Ben looked back at David Allison. “I see you have Ruby’s dog. Where did you find him?”

“Roaming around early this morning when I went out for a walk. Given the situation, I thought I should bring him here.”

“Did you know Ruby was boarding him at Mae December’s kennel?”

David swallowed, shaking his head. “No, I guess I should have.”

“Please call Miss December when we’re finished here. She’s been looking for him.”

As Wayne continued to ask David questions about his relationship with Ruby, Ben carefully observed the room. It was large and well lit with contemporary furniture and a series of canvases
hanging on the walls. Each one was a splash of color. This was one of the few houses on Little Chapel Road that had been torn down and replaced with a new house of modern design. It was obviously the home of a person with taste and wealth. He wondered if the Allison & Fanning Architectural firm generated enough income to pay for a house like this. He made a mental note to check on the background of both men—David’s financial situation in particular.

They finished up and prepared to leave. Wayne cautioned David Allison to remain available, since they’d be speaking with him again. Tech Johns walked out to the CSI van with David’s laundry.

David picked up his phone as they walked out. Ben heard him say “Yes, that’s right. I have Elvis.”

Wayne drove them back to the office, which gave Ben the opportunity to call Dory and ask her to get the deputies and the CSI Team scheduled for a staff meeting in the morning. He wanted to hear what the lab tests showed about David Allison’s clothes. If he was their killer, there should be blood or perhaps dirt on what he had been wearing. He was relying more and more on the Lab’s astonishing findings.

“Good thing David Allison’s shirts hadn’t already gone to the laundry,”
Ben remarked.

“Sure was,” said Wayne replied. “I’m going to call Ruby’s attorney’s office to get an appointment for tomorrow.”

Ben felt a flicker of annoyance. Wayne seemed to be setting his own agenda, rather than waiting for his lead. He paused briefly before proceeding, deciding not to make an issue of it.

“Okay. I’m going to look at the body
in the morgue and talk with the M.E. about the time of death. I also want another look at the traffic measurement equipment that was laid across the vic’s neck. I don’t think the cord was used to kill her, but I’ll double check with the doc.”

They agreed to meet the following morning at seven thirty. Ben enjoyed these early morning staff meetings. When he became sheriff, he promised his staff would live in the community. He also assured the residents that there’d be more transparency in the work of the department. Now the hunt for a killer had begun, and the sheriff wanted everyone on his staff focused on the crime.

Walking into his office, Ben jotted down a list of points to clarify and confirm at tomorrow’s meeting. Creating an hour-by-hour timeline of the victim’s movements on the last day of her life would be critical to solving the crime.

March 2: Mae December sees Ruby Mead-Allison leaving for airport on vacation

March 2-14:
Ruby staying at resort. She departs one day earlier than planned

March 14:
Ruby on plane back to Nashville, arrives 3:15 p.m.

March 15/16:
Ruby dies late at night on the 15
^th
or early morning of the 16
^th

March 18:
Mae December informs sheriff’s office Ruby is missing

March 19:
Mae December reports finding Ruby’s body

What did Ruby do between 3:15 on March 14 and later the next night? Why did she come home early from her trip? Did Ruby have a new lover? She and David Allison separated in February. She could have been seeing someone new.

Arriving back at the station behind the CSI van, Ben watched Hadley carry the laundry back to the lab. Ben and Wayne Nichols went into the reception area where Dory was waiting for them. She enjoyed enormous respect as the power behind the throne in the sheriff’s office. She seemed to know everyone, having lived her whole life in Rosedale. As a black woman herself, she had many connections in the black community that had proven useful in unearthing clues Wayne and Ben couldn’t have learned otherwise. Dismissing
Wayne with a shooing motion, she fixed her eyes on Ben.

“Sheriff, there are twelve messages for you. None of them are important. Do you need me to find out the value of Ruby’s property? I’m also assuming you need to see her will.”

These days, Ben got a kick out of Dory deciding what was important and what wasn’t. When he started as sheriff, however, he had found her more than a little irritating. Now, two years later, he appreciated how she ran the office—with humor and authority. Plus, she turned out to be right most of the time about which messages he really needed to return.

“Yes. Please look into Ruby’s property. I need to know if she had a mortgage, and if so, its value. If you can, find out the beneficiary of Ruby’s will.”

At the words, “if you can” Dory narrowed her eyes. Whoops. Ben knew Dory prided herself on her ability to ferret out information. He also knew better than to express doubts in Miss Dory’s abilities.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I know you can find out anything. I’ll expect those reports tomorrow morning. I’d like everyone in the conference room by seven thirty.”

“Would you like Miss December to be there also?”

Mae December at my staff meeting?
No way in hell, he thought.

“Absolutely not
, Dory. Why on earth would you think I’d want her here for a staff meeting?”

Dory gave Ben an icy stare
. Was that a stupid question? Maybe Dory was in a “men are morons” mood. Sometimes being in charge was exhausting.

Before Mae found Ruby’s body, Ben had been planning to take some time off
at his cabin. That was out of the question now. At least he could visit it as often as he wanted, in his mind.

The first time Ben had gone to the cabin was with Gampy, his mom’s father. He was beside himself with excitement. Ben’s older brother, Mark, had been out to the cabin before, but Ben hadn’t been old enough until then. He knew his mom was too worried about his asthma to let him go, but the doctor told her he was starting to outgrow it.

“Don’t you lose your glasses, honey,” she’d called from the porch, as he climbed into Gampy’s station wagon. “Be sweet!”

He manfully ignored her. At nine years old, he was already straining at the apron strings. The hour it took to drive to the cabin flew by as he peppered his taciturn grandfather with questions about everything they’d see, eat, and do on their men’s weekend.

They pulled off the county road and onto a two-track that cut across an open field and ran through woods thick with cedar and bowdock trees. They came to a stop in front of a tiny log cabin. Ben threw open the car door. Gampy’s dogs boiled out behind him. Gampy hauled himself out and looked around with his commanding stare.

“Place looks like hell,” he said gruffly.

Ben was delighted, both by the remote cabin and his grandfather’s use of a swear word.

“Does it? I love it here. You owe me a quarter for the swear jar.”

Gampy looked down at Ben and shook his head. “No swear jar out here, son. Let’s leave your Mama to worry about things like that.”

Better and better. No big brother or parents to tell him what to do, no swear jar and his favorite person all to himself.

“What should we do first?”

“Well, let’s go on in and unpack the cooler. Leave those glasses in the car, Ben. You don’t really need them. And that way you won’t lose ’em.”

The inside of the cabin had one large, high-ceilinged room, with a ladder leading up to a loft. Ben explored every inch in a hurry. The cabin kitchen had only a small ice chest, a sink and a stove. A fireplace took up the opposite wall, with a set of old chairs that he knew Mama would call disgusting set up beside it. A small metal table sat in the middle of the room. There were three cots in the loft. Ben unrolled his sleeping bag across the closest one and skidded back down the ladder.