Three Dog Day

by Lia Farrell

  “I’m going to throw this disgusting thing in your washer. Can I borrow a shirt? I must have the flu or something.”

  Looking at her friend standing there in sweatpants and a bra, Mae could have counted her ribs, but there was a tiny swell to her abdomen. And her bra was barely getting the job done.

  “You do look thinner, except in the chest.”

  Tammy nodded. “I know. Usually I can barely muster up a B-cup. These are not my normal boobs. They’re sore, too.” She sighed and walked into the laundry room. She came back out in her bra and panties “Can I just go upstairs and find something of yours to wear? I decided to wash those gross pants, too.”

  “Help yourself,” Mae told her, with a smile, “and while you’re up there, I have an early pregnancy test you can use. It’s under the sink in my bathroom.”

  Tammy stopped dead in her tracks, whirled around and stared furiously at Mae, her eyebrows rising high under her silver-blonde bangs.

  “No, it can’t be.” She gave a vehement shake of her head. “We’ve been very careful.” She plunked down on the bottom step. “If I’m pregnant, I’m going to kill Patrick.”

  “Well, you should probably pee on the stick first,” Mae pointed out cheerfully. “I’m going to bet it’ll be positive, but you might as well find out.”

  Tammy rose without another word. After shooting Mae a slit-eyed glare, she stalked upstairs. Mae went into the kitchen for another cup of coffee. Ten minutes later, Tammy was back, wearing a pair of Mae’s ancient Levis and a brown sweater. The jeans were rolled up, and the sweater was too long on her petite frame, but at least she had found Mae’s lipstick and brushed her hair.

  “You look almost human. Feel better?”

  Tammy held the stick in her hand. She showed Mae the plus sign on the end. The two women looked at each other in silence.

  “I guess I better call Patrick and let him know.” Tammy sighed.

  “Here, put that stick down.” Mae put a napkin out on the kitchen counter. Tammy put the stick on it and washed her hands.

  “Your phone’s on the coffee table. I’ll give you two some privacy. I’m going to take little Tater outside.”

  Tammy stood there, shoulders slumped.

  “Cheer up, honey. It’s hardly the end of the world. You love Patrick, he loves you and you’re thirty, with your own business. It’s not exactly a disaster. In fact, I think your mom will be thrilled.”

  “I know,” Tammy muttered, “but this pregnancy thing is a real game changer.”

  “It is that. Are we going to need to plan a wedding?” Mae asked, not sure if her determinedly single friend wanted marriage, even now.

  “I have to think about it, Mae. You know I’ve always felt I was destined to be single.”

  “Right, but with lots and lots of boyfriends.” Mae rolled her eyes. “Since you and Patrick got together, though, he’s been the only one. I’m thinking a Valentine’s Day wedding would be nice.”

  No answer from her friend, who turned away from the window and headed toward the living room, cellphone in hand.

  “Congratulations, Tammy. You’re going to be an awesome mom, you know.”

  Her friend threw a tiny smile over her shoulder. “Thanks Mae-Mae. I hope you’re right.”

  Ben walked into her kitchen after eight that night. Mae was standing at the sink, rinsing off silverware before putting it in the dishwasher. Tater, her corgi puppy, was sleeping right behind Mae’s feet. Seeing a moving reflection in the window, Mae stepped backward and trod on the curled-up pup. Tater yipped in protest.

  “Sorry, Tatie.” Ben scooped the little dog up and planted a kiss on Mae’s cheek. “Looks like I startled your mama.”

  “I didn’t hear you come in,” Mae told him. She shut the water off, dried her hands on the dishtowel and stood on tiptoe to give Ben a big kiss on the mouth. “I should have known she’d be right behind me. Tatie follows me around like she’s my satellite. Unless there’s a man nearby. Then the little hussy ignores me completely.”

  Ben laughed, looking down at the strawberry blonde corgi nestled into his chest. “So she acts like this with all the men in your kitchen, Miss December? I thought I was the only one. You two girls are gonna break my heart.”

  Mae shook her head. “She’s the heartbreaker, not me. She does love you best, but she’ll flirt with Daddy or Patrick if they’re around. Put her in her crate, please. It’s time for her to go to bed for the night.”

  Ben walked across the kitchen and ensconced the Tater in her crate. While he latched the door, Mae enjoyed the view of his cute backside.

  “Speaking of Patrick,” she said. “I have big news.” Mae grabbed the open bottle of Cabernet off her counter and snagged two wineglasses with her other hand. “C’mon in the living room and I’ll fill you in.”

  Mae and Ben settled in on the couch, sitting close together. Ben poured wine into both glasses while she told him all about her morning with Tammy.

  “Tammy already told Patrick, of course, but don’t tell anyone she’s pregnant yet, okay? She may not be ready for the whole world to know.”

  Ben agreed, and then told her about the call Dory had gotten that day, reporting possible animal cruelty at a puppy mill in the township.

  “Would you like to help Dory with the investigation?” he asked, putting an arm around Mae’s shoulders and pulling her in closer to his side.

  Mae smiled up at him. “Of course, if Dory wants my help, I’d love to. She called me a little while ago to tell me about the report.” She tilted her head and gave him a thoughtful look. “I think you actually just asked me to get involved in your work, didn’t you? That’s a first.”

  Ben nodded. “I know. I usually don’t want you getting in the middle of cases. But this shouldn’t be dangerous. I suggested that Dory call you. Actually, puppy mills aren’t against the law, and you are the dog expert. I appointed Dory as the investigator in charge, so I’ll check with her tomorrow. I’m betting she’ll welcome your help.”

  “She told me. When the ASPCA raids the place, Dory’s planning to be there. I hope I can tag along. Puppy mills just infuriate me.”

  They stayed up for another hour, discussing Tammy, Patrick, the pregnancy and the potential investigation into the puppy mill. Mae was warm, sleepy and happy as could be. The wall Ben had been keeping between her and his work was coming down. She felt closer to him than ever before.

  Chapter Four

  January 6th

  Sheriff Ben Bradley

  Sheriff Ben Bradley and Deputy Rob Fuller were on site at Logan Yancey’s Pine Lodge Estates development. The wind was fierce, nearing gale-force in its intensity. Mr. Yancey, the developer of the project, was already red and getting redder. He was pacing, making jabbing motions at the empty areas where the stolen building materials once stood. He kept running his hands through his wavy hair that stood up in tufts. The volume of his monologue—liberally salted with expletives—continued to rise. The lawmen had gone to the construction site to obtain the builder’s statement.

  Snow still blanketed the ground from the rare blizzard. The wind held a sharp bite, and the sun was yet to make an appearance. The sheriff looked over at his deputy, Rob Fuller, who was watching the angry builder with obvious fascination. Probably waiting for this guy’s head to blow right off his shoulders.

  “Mr. Yancey,” Ben interrupted, “do you have paperwork on all the missing materials? Or a site manager who has those records?”

  The builder exhaled forcefully and came to a halt, glaring at the sheriff. “Paperwork? I don’t handle paperwork.” He stared at the clipboard in Deputy Fuller’s hands. “I do real work, not paperwork. Kind of old school that way.”

  Ben fought back a smile. He and Rob made brief eye contact. “Sir, are you saying you don’t have any records from suppliers to substantiate your claim of theft?”

  Logan Yancey virtually vibrated with rage. He leaned forward, standing nose-to-nose with the sheriff. Ben didn’t back down.

/>   “I’m not claiming anything! The materials were right here yesterday and now they’re gone. What the hell are you going to do about this crime, Sheriff? Instead of questioning me, you need to be catching whoever stole my materials.”

  Spittle flew from the man’s lips, landing on Ben’s cheek. He wiped it away with the back of his hand and confronted the agitated man, close enough to smell onions on his breath.

  “You need to get yourself under control, Mr. Yancey,” the sheriff said in a low voice. “I don’t want to have to call an ambulance for you.” When the builder opened his mouth to respond, Ben held up his hand. “You’ve made your report. As soon as you supply proof of the materials that you allege were stolen, we’ll start looking into the matter.”

  Logan Yancey gave a quick, irritated nod. He strode away without another word, climbing up the steps of the trailer he used as an on-site office. The door slammed behind him.

  “And you’re welcome,” Ben muttered under his breath. “C’mon, Rob, let’s get in the car. I don’t know about you, but my feet are frozen.”

  Ben drove slowly down the steep hill, appreciating the view that spread out below him. The black tree branches were tipped with snow, and each rock and fence post stood out in sharp contrast to the white background. A mile or so farther along, he slowed even more, then pulled onto the shoulder and put the car in park.

  “What’re you doing, boss?” Deputy Fuller looked up from the clipboard in his lap where he had been jotting down notes. Rob’s nose was red, and the lenses of his silver-framed glasses were fogged from the warmth of the car. His short, golden-brown hair was disheveled from the stiff breeze up on the ridge. “Do I need to get out?”

  “No, I’m just going to take a photo with my phone and ask Mae to paint a picture of this scene. I have to tread lightly, though. Mae only paints what she wants to.” Ben opened the door and quickly took four different shots of the striking scene before climbing back in the warm patrol car.

  “I thought Miss December ran a kennel and bred dogs. Is she an artist, too?”

  Rob’s innate interest in the people around him was a trait that boded well for his future as a detective, Ben thought. He put the car in gear and started down the hill. “She’s a painter—a really good one,” he answered. “Have you ever seen any of Malone’s paintings?”

  The young deputy nodded. “In that gallery in Rosedale. I went in there with a girl I used to date. Is that what her paintings look like?”

  “Exactly.” The sheriff smiled. “In fact, Mae’s full name is Maeve Malone December. Malone is her brush name, the one she signs her paintings with. I bought one of her paintings from that gallery before we ever met.”

  After lunch, Ben sat down at his desk in his office. His door stood open and Ben could hear the phone ringing at Dory’s desk. What he didn’t hear was anyone answering it. He sighed, got up, and walked down the hall.

  “Dory,” he called. “George? Anybody here?”

  Silence. The conference room door was closed. He opened it and saw his office manager. Her feet, stylish in red heels, up on the table. She was poring over the deputy’s manual in her lap and didn’t even look up.

  “Ms. Clarkson, I do hope I’m not disturbing you,” Ben growled. She snapped her feet on the floor and gave him a winning smile, head tilted to one side.

  “Not at all, Sheriff. I’m just studying. For my exam you know.”

  “Phones aren’t troubling you in here?”

  “Phones? I put George on phones before I came in here. Why?”

  “Deputy Phelps is AWOL, so you need to get back to your desk.”

  Dory frowned. She stood up and walked toward her station. “I’ll find the slacker.” She stopped walking, glanced at her watch, and turned back to the sheriff.

  “Sheriff, I wanted to tell you that I checked in with the ASPCA. Two agents went out to the Clifton property yesterday to take a look at the conditions for the dogs. Unfortunately, no one was at home and the barn where the dogs are kept was padlocked. They left a ‘Notice to Call’ on the front door. If the owner doesn’t get in touch with the ASPCA in the next couple of days, they will schedule a raid, because of how cold it has been and the risk these conditions pose for the dogs. I asked Mr. Gunderson, the director, to inform me when they’re going to raid the property so I could meet them there. Oh, and Cameron Gomez asked to meet with you. She’ll be here soon.”

  “When Deputy Gomez gets here, send her on back. When George materializes, tell him I said he’s on phones until you take your exam. As soon as he takes over, you can go home and study. And if you need any help with the puppy mill investigation, Mae is available to assist you.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “And you’re okay with that? My, my, how times have changed. I’ll call her later. Thank you, Sheriff Bradley.” Dory nodded graciously. “Deputy Phelps can’t elude me for long.” She turned and stalked off in search of the errant George.

  Shortly thereafter, Ben heard a tap at his door and looked up. It was his newest hire, twenty-six-year-old Cameron Gomez. She had been working in the office for several months and was a refreshing contrast to the lackadaisical George. So far she had kept a low profile, and Ben wondered why she wanted to meet with him.

  “Come in, Cam.” One of Officer Gomez’s first acts had been to ask Ben to call her Cam.

  After giving his hand a firm shake, she stood in front of his desk with her shoulders back like a curvaceous little soldier. Her brown eyes crinkled at the corners, and her lips curled into a big smile. Ben was in love with Mae, of course, but he appreciated a beautiful woman nonetheless.

  “Please have a seat,” Ben said. “I know you asked for this meeting, but I wanted to talk to you, too. As you’re aware, we’re short-handed. Detective Nichols has requested a leave of absence and Deputy Fuller is moving into a new role—assuming he passes the detective exam. And then there’s Dory’s deputy exam that’s taking her away from the front desk.” Ben suppressed a sigh.

  The fluorescent overhead light flickered, then steadied. Cam looked up and Ben saw something that her uniform collar normally covered. It was a bad scar, puckering the smooth honey-colored skin of her throat.

  “I was wondering if you might be able to take a turn on the phones until Dory takes her exam.”

  “Yes, sir. Happy to, sir.”

  “You don’t need to call me ‘sir’ all the time, Cam. You should know by now that we’re usually pretty informal around here—not like Captain Paula’s operation in Nashville.” Ben had recruited Deputy Gomez from Captain Paula’s shop. “Now, what did you want to talk to me about?”

  Cam shifted in her chair. “I’m trying to figure out the chain of command, everyone’s role at the office.” She paused.

  Ben bit his lip, nodding his encouragement. He could tell where this was going.

  “So, other than you, is Miss Dory in charge?”

  “That certainly didn’t take you very long. It took me a couple years to wrap my head around it, but yes. Eudora Clarkson is my second in command. She’s been running this place ever since I was a kid, probably before you were born. If you need help, go to her first.”

  “And Deputy Phelps and Deputy Fuller are my superiors, right?”

  Ben stood up, walked around to his office door and closed it. “Technically, yes. George Phelps has been here a long time too. Not as long as Dory.” He sat back down. “Is he on phones right now?” Cam nodded. “He doesn’t aspire to be anything but a deputy, and doesn’t seem anxious to advance his career, although there are times when he is a big help. Rob, on the other hand, is a real go-getter. Does that clear things up?”

  “I think I’ve got it, except for CSI. We haven’t had a major case since I started and I realized last night I don’t know what crime lab we use.”

  “Good question. Hadley Johns and Emma Peters are the lab techs. Our lab is in the building, but you have to use the other entrance to get there—from the rear parking lot. And Dr. Estes is our medical examiner. He wo
rks for Rose County as well as the Mont Blanc Police Station. Hopefully you won’t be meeting him right away, since that would mean we had a murder to solve. Until recently it had been a decade since we’d had a murder in Rose County. This past year we’ve already had two cases.”

  Her brown eyes widened. “So the sheriff’s office doesn’t have a major crimes unit?”

  “That’s correct. We’re a one-stop crime shop around here, but you’ll get the hang of it.” He looked at his watch. “Sorry to cut this short, but I’ve got lots of paperwork to get to. Please check with Dory, if you don’t mind, and tell her you’ll be sharing phone duty with George until she gets this deputy exam out of the way.”

  “Thank you, Sheriff. And thanks again for hiring me.” She gave him a shy smile and slipped quietly from the room.

  Chapter Five

  January 7th

  Sheriff Ben Bradley

  When Ben arrived at the office early in the morning, he was pleased to see that Dory was already at her desk. He immediately asked her to assemble everyone for a staff meeting so he could hand out assignments for the current cases. Ben was still standing by Dory’s desk when young Rob Fuller, sheriff’s deputy, drove into the office parking lot. He climbed out of his car carrying a white paper donut box and grinning from ear to ear.

  “George,” Ben called, as Rob headed toward the door, “Come on out here. You too, Cam. I believe our brand spanking new detective, Mr. Rob Fuller, has arrived.”

  When Rob walked through the office door moments later, all of them gave him a standing ovation. He raised both hands overhead in Vs of victory.

  “Let’s get this meeting started,” Ben told everyone after the congratulations died down. They walked to the conference room and took their seats. “Our major case at the moment is the loss of construction materials for a development of million dollar homes. Mr. Logan Yancey, the developer, reported the theft. Since then I’ve checked with Chief Granger over at Mont Blanc and found that several contractors in the area have lost materials, in particular copper piping. I talked to Wayne at home last night. He called one of his CIs, a guy he called Jacko. According to Jacko, there’s a copper theft ring operating in the area. Yancey’s stolen materials included copper piping. Rob, you’ll be lead on this one. George will be second.”