One Dog Too Many (A Mae December Mystery)

by Farrell, Lia

  Robin hesitated. “I’m going to have to call my husband about this and maybe my lawyer, too.”

  “That’s certainly your right. However, without proof that you ever received this text, the sheriff is thinking that you made this whole thing up. He thinks you’re a lot more involved than you told us. He thinks you killed Ruby.”

  There was silence.

  Nichols sighed. “Robin, I know how protective you are of Laura, but you can’t withhold evidence from the police. The sheriff could charge you with obstruction. He wants to nail somebody for this murder and unless you give us the cellphone, you’re handing yourself over on a silver platter. Did you do it, Robin?” His voice was soft and quiet. “Did you kill Ruby?”

  There was another long silence; then the line went dead. Which sister had the strongest reason to kill Ruby? He had no doubt that either of them could have done it. He no longer believed in the inherent kindness and decency of women.

  As Wayne began working on a report, his thoughts returned to the women in his life. He trusted none of them. Some women were what they seemed, but most were an enigma, like his battered foster mother, or Tiani—slippery as a fish rising out of the water on a summer evening.

  Tiani had broken his heart, led him on. He had met her at the Tribal Council offices when he got to Traverse City after working for the Hagströms. She smiled when he came into the office. Her long, dark hair was like silk flowing across her shoulders. She was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  He tore his eyes away from her low-cut shirt, recalling himself with a start.

  “Um, yes. I just got here from the U.P. I think I might be Odawa—or part Odawa, anyway. I need a job.”

  “Do you have your tribal card?”

  “No. I lost it.” He couldn’t remember ever having one. “How do I get a new one?”

  She went through old records and tried to help him, but he had no idea who his real parents were, only a shadowy recollection of an old man by a fire. He had been in foster homes most of his life. His little brother wasn’t even really related to him. Still, he had hated leaving him behind. Tiani found a room for him to rent and told him who to talk to in the personnel office at the city hospital. She said they were often looking for people to do patient transport.

  He worked for a few weeks and then went back to see her. “I want to thank you, Tiani.” He felt shy. “I got paid yesterday. I’d like to take you to a movie.”

  She looked unsure. “I probably shouldn’t. I have to work most days. I can take a walk with you tomorrow though, if you come back at the same time.”

  He tried to see her as often as he could. Sometimes she let him kiss her and touch her breasts in the coat closet of the old building where the council met. Sometimes she walked with him, but the northern Michigan winter was fast making their walks impossible. They talked about her family and his dreams for the future, but she wouldn’t come to his room, no matter how he pleaded.

  One frigid November day, he went to see her. A different girl sat behind the desk.

  “Where’s Tiani?” He stomped the snow from his boots.

  The girl gave him a sour look. “Who wants to know?”

  “I’m Wayne. Her boyfriend.”

  She laughed. “No you’re not. She married her boyfriend yesterday. She’s pregnant, going to have a baby in the spring.”

  His heart pounded and he turned to run, his cheeks burning. He slipped on the wet floor near the doorway and caught the doorframe. Straightening up, he left the tribal council office for the last time, the girl’s mocking laughter ringing behind him.

  Wayne shook his head to displace the memories, walked out of his office and down to Ben’s. “Robin hung up on me. I’m going to look for her. Do you want to come?”

  Ben nodded and hollered to Dory. Telling her to check on Laura, he grabbed his jacket and followed Wayne out to the car. They drove to the Fannings’ and parked near the driveway. Before Wayne had time to cut the ignition, Robin’s car pulled up to the driveway and came to a stop.

  Wayne got out of the car and walked around to the driver’s side of Robin’s vehicle. Ben followed him.

  Robin put her window down. “I need your cellphone now,” Wayne said.

  She reached into her purse and handed him the phone.

  “I need your password, too.”

  Robin closed her eyes and told him the password.

  They got back into the car and watched as Robin turned into her driveway.

  “Let’s go.” Wayne started the car. When they arrived back at the office, the sheriff asked Dory if she knew how to retrieve text messages on Robin’s type of cellphone.

  She looked at them and shook her head. “Just who do y’all think you’re dealing with?”

  “Dory, if you can find a text message from Laura Connolly on the eighteenth of March, at around midnight, I swear I’ll get you flowers every week for the rest of the year. The password is one-four-nine-two.”

  She grabbed the phone. “Just leave me be.”

  They retreated.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  March 27

  Sheriff Ben Bradley

  About ten minutes later, Dory strutted into Ben’s office. She’d found it. He picked up his phone.

  “That call better be to the florist.”

  He put the receiver back down. “Perhaps you might like to call the florist yourself and put in your weekly order?”

  Dory beamed. “I’d be happy to, but I need your credit card. This isn’t going on the office dime, you know.”

  “Of course not.” He handed his card over and called down the hall to Wayne, “We got it.” Dory frowned. “Let me rephrase that. Miss Dory, the Goddess of Information, the Queen of all Knowledge, has given us the smoking gun.”

  “You’re the best.” Wayne gave her shoulder a squeeze as he walked into the room.

  Dory left looking pleased. “And next time, Bradley, I’m getting a personal trainer and he’s going to be cute and buff.”

  “She’d do it, too,” Ben told Wayne, who grinned. “I live in fear of that woman.”

  The wind was blowing hard and the small sycamore trees in front of the sheriff’s office waved wildly, as if trying to escape from their cages. Ben and Wayne stood in the main lobby. They were waiting for Laura Connolly’s attorney. Laura was already in the conference room.

  When the four of them were seated in the conference room and the equipment was turned on, Ben began. “Laura, when we talked with you earlier, you told Detective Nichols that you didn’t send your sister a text message on March eighteenth telling her to go to Ruby’s. We were able to obtain the evidence today that your sister received that message shortly before midnight. The text said, ‘Come to Ruby’s house, now.’ ”

  Laura’s face crumpled, and her breathing became ragged and uneven. She seemed on the verge of tears or collapse.

  “Why did you send Robin this text?” Wayne asked.

  “I needed her help.”

  “With the shovel?”

  Laura hung her head. Her voice was so soft they could barely hear her. “The shovel was scary.”

  “I’m sorry, Laura. I couldn’t hear you. Did you say ‘The shovel was scary’?”

  “Yes.” There was a long pause and then she said, softly, “It had a face.” The room got intensely still. Ben held his breath.

  “Whose face was it?” asked Wayne.

  “It was my husband’s face,” Laura whispered and began to cry.

  Mr. Bennett turned. “May I have a moment with my client?”

  They left the room and stood in the corridor. Ben pulled the door closed behind him.

  “Do you think we have grounds to arrest her?” Wayne asked.

  “I think we do. We have the physical evidence of the shovel. We know that Laura called Robin and that Robin took the shovel to Mae’s barn, but the timeline just doesn’t work. It’s possible Laura’s trying to protect her husband. She may
think, or know, that he killed Ruby—although the timeline doesn’t work for him, either. Maybe he’s lying. Perhaps that’s why she saw her husband’s face when she looked at the shovel.”

  “This case is a nightmare,” Wayne said.

  “I know it.”

  Paul Bennett stuck his head around the door. “Gentlemen, my client isn’t feeling well. She needs her medications. She doesn’t have them with her and they have to be taken on a very rigid time schedule.”

  “All right,” the sheriff said. “However, I’m placing Mrs. Connolly under house arrest. She has to sign a form saying she won’t leave her house for the rest of today and tomorrow. If she can’t guarantee she’ll stay at home, I’ll arrest her and request remand.”

  Laura’s attorney withdrew his head, clearly relieved. He closed the door.

  Wayne looked at Ben for a moment in aggravated silence. “With all due respect, Sheriff, I think you’re making a big mistake. We should hold her overnight at a minimum.”

  “I’d really like to, Wayne, but with her medical situation, that could get the case thrown out of court later. I’ll have Deputy Phelps take her home and hang around there until tomorrow.”

  An hour later Dory came into Ben’s office with a strange look on her face.

  “There’s a woman here to see you. She won’t say what it’s about. I told her you were busy, but she insisted.”

  Maybe it’s about the case. “Fine, Dory. Send her back. Did she give her name?”

  “It’s me, Ben.” Katie pushed past a startled Dory. Ben stood up. She held out her hands and smiled. He heard a roaring in his ears. Dory backed quickly out of the room and shut the door.

  Katie came closer and held out her arms. Ben turned aside. She brushed away the awkwardness saying, “I’m happy to see you.”

  Ben said nothing at all.

  “I’m sure you’re angry. I’m truly sorry. I regret everything I did, eloping, I mean. Greg, my ex-husband, is very charming. I fell for it. But after we got married, I saw that the love he had for his patients matched his love for every young female in the camp. When we weren’t traveling together, he was always gone. Sometimes for legitimate reasons. Often not. Oh, this is coming out badly. I already regretted my hasty decision and my lack of self-control on the honeymoon. I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed you.”

  “Katie, please stop. I’m not interested in hearing about your problems. I’m in the middle of a murder investigation. Just tell me why you’re here.”

  “Ben,” her voice was soft, “I’ve missed you, and ...” She moved closer and he fought the pull of the familiar scent and her nearness.

  “Damn it, Katie. What do you want?”

  “I have a son. His name is Matthew and he’s three and a half. He’s a wonderful little boy. When he was born, right after our marriage, Greg said Matty wasn’t his. Greg has two other sons with his first wife, and Matthew looks nothing like them. At first I didn’t take any notice. I had a difficult pregnancy, a C-section. I lost a lot of blood. When the baby was only a few months old, and things were getting worse between us, Greg took him to the hospital for a paternity test.”

  Here it comes. She’s going to try to get me for child support because the husband won’t pay.

  “Ben, Matthew is your son. The chances of his being Greg’s are one in a million.” The roaring in his ears grew louder.

  “You can believe what you want,” Ben said.“But I don’t want to have anything to do with you, or him. I don’t believe anything you say.” He fought for control and took a deep breath. “We’ll do another DNA test. If it proves he’s my son …”

  “Ben, please believe me. He can’t be anyone’s but yours. There was nobody else except you and Greg.”

  “Do you really think, after what you did, you can walk back into my life and we can just take up where we left off, only now with a little kid?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was very soft. “It’s what I want. I still love you. I made a terrible mistake, but I want us to be a couple again. I want us to be a family for Matthew.”

  “That’s not what I want.” Ben closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Mae’s slender back came to mind for a minute, straight as a reed, walking up the stairs alone. Mae was the woman he wanted, not Katie.

  “If a DNA test, done here, proves I’m the father, I’ll assume responsibility for his child support. Let me be clear, Katie. I don’t want you in my life again and I don’t want a relationship with your son.”

  She closed her eyes and winced. “Ben, please don’t close your heart to Matty. He’s yours. He looks exactly like you. Your mother could tell right away when she saw him in the hospital. I saw it on her face. He’s a strong, healthy little boy who deserves a family. I want him to have a father. He deserves to have a father. Please …” her voice softened and her eyes pleaded with him.

  Ben’s head pounded like it might explode. In his public life, it would be impossible to shut the door completely on this boy. He’d be eviscerated in the press and risk his re-election. He shut his eyes and saw Mae’s face. She will break up with me. I’ll lose her over this. Before he could stop himself, he smashed his fist into the wall.

  The pain was stunning. Ben shook his fist, pressed it into his other hand and glared at Katie. “I’ll get the DNA test done. If the test establishes my paternity, I’ll speak to the Family Court judge. I’ll explain the circumstances and present my case. She’ll make the decision and I’ll live with it, but I will not have you in my life, not ever again.”

  “Ben,” her voice was small and shaken. “Please remember how we were together. We could be a couple again.” She reached her hands out to him.

  “No, we couldn’t. Not ever.” Ben turned away from her. He groaned in frustration as he nearly ran out of the building, leaving Katie crying in his office. A startled Dory peeked through the window.

  Ben jumped into his truck, slammed the door and roared out of the parking lot. It was only five-thirty, and he wasn’t seeing Mae until seven. Without really thinking, he headed to his parents’ house. When he walked into the kitchen, his mother, Joyce, took one look at him and got out her first aid kit. She was short with a sturdy build and had recently cut her curly, salt-and-pepper hair to chin length. She wore jeans with a loose green sweater and dried her hands on a dishtowel. She wordlessly gave his hand a none-too-gentle exam, bandaged him and told him that his dad was in the study.

  With a quick wave, she picked up her purse and walked out to the garage. “Bye, Ben.”

  His tall, thin father, blue-eyed with gray hair in a buzz cut, appeared in the kitchen. “Hello, Son.”

  “Did Mom leave because of me?”

  “No. She was going shopping with a friend. What’s up?”

  “I need some advice.”

  “Okay then. I’ll get us each a beer.”

  He went to the fridge and handed him a cold one. Ben leaned against the counter. His damn hand was really sore.

  “Here’s to you solving this crime.” Dad raised his bottle.

  They walked into the den and sat down in the old comfortable leather chairs. Dad had installed a new television, one of the large flat screens. He flicked it off with the remote and leaned back.

  “How’d you hurt your hand?”

  “Katie came to the office today. I suppose Mom told you about her being back in town. She has a son. Katie says he’s mine. You don’t look very surprised.”

  “Your mom said the boy looks just like you did at that age.”

  “I’ve agreed to DNA testing. That way I’ll know for sure. I got so frustrated I punched the wall in my office. It’s cinderblock.”

  “I guess you didn’t break a bone, or your mom would be dragging you to the E.R. right now.” He paused for a sip of beer. “Was that what you needed my advice about?”

  “No, it’s not that. You know I’ve been working on the Ruby Mead-Allison murder. I think we’re getting close to solving it. I told you last week I suspected James Connolly. He was hav
ing an affair with Ruby and they were planning to sell her property to some developer. They were both going to be well-off after the sale.”

  “Sounds to me like he needed her alive then.”

  “Well, he also had her power of attorney. He could have gotten his hands on the land if her brother gave up claim to it. If he wasn’t implicated in her murder, he might have been able to get the whole Mead parcel. Ruby was pregnant with his child, so his marriage was at risk.”

  “Okay, I get the motive. What about method and opportunity?”

  “Well, I’m a little shaky on opportunity. His wife, Laura, had method, motive, and might have had opportunity. The times don’t quite work out, but she took the babysitter home at around the time Ruby was killed. Three days after the killing she texted her sister, Robin, at midnight, to come and take a shovel away from the property. That shovel turned out to be the murder weapon. Nichols says I’m missing the boat by not pursuing her over her husband.”

  “They both sound like scum. What’s your gut tell you?”

  “I still like James Connolly for it, but Laura’s hard to read. She has some kind of impulse control disorder.”

  “It’s a tough one. Since you’re asking, I’d pursue the woman. Actually, I’d look very carefully at both women.”

  “Robin isn’t the type. She’s only being a protective older sister.”

  “Well, she might be protective in a motherly way, but you definitely need to look into her alibi for the time of the murder. The maternal instinct tends to supersede anything else. As for Laura, can you find out whether or not she was taking her meds at the time Ruby was killed? Would her doctor tell you whether her episodes of rage are periodic?”

  “It’s hard to get doctors to tell us anything, but I’ll try. Thanks, Dad. Very helpful. We’ll definitely look into all of this. How did you get so smart, old man?”

  “Probably from hanging around your mother. When are you going to the cabin again?”

  “As soon as we wrap up this case, I’m outta here.”