Three Dog Day

by Lia Farrell

  “I need to ask you some questions, little mother. When you went to the police and confessed to Aarne’s murder, where did you tell them his body was? I buried him near Kurt the day you left. Did they find both bodies?”

  “Yes. And they found the knife I killed Aarne with in the house. They could tell Kurt had been killed with a gun. They found the bullets. They asked me a hundred times where the gun was. I never told the law anything. I was afraid they would go after you.”

  “Oh my God! You should have given me up,” Wayne’s voice broke. His throat was choked with unshed tears as he said, “Why save my worthless hide?” They looked at each other in silence for a while until Wayne asked, “Little mother, did you even have a trial?”

  “No, I confessed and was sentenced. I didn’t get a lawyer either.”

  “What? Damn the bastards.” Wayne was lost in thought for some time. Then he asked, “Did you tell anyone about Kurt’s death before the day you killed Aarne?”

  “Yes, Becky Wilshire. She was my neighbor, you remember. She and her husband owned the farm next to ours. I was sitting under the pine trees near Kurt’s grave, crying, when she found me. She said I had to call the police. I told her I would, but I wanted time to say goodbye to my son first.”

  “Did you kill Aarne that night?”

  “Yes.” Jocelyn paused, closing her eyes for a moment. She went on in a low voice, one that revealed an undimmed hatred for her abuser. “It was evening when I heard Aarne’s truck. He drove in the driveway and yelled for me. As soon as I got close enough, he got out of the car and knocked me down. I screamed that I knew he killed Kurt. He had a knife. He said he was going to cut me. We struggled, he dropped the knife, and I grabbed it. I told him to stop. I held up the knife in my hand, but he just kept coming for me, calling me bad words. Then I stabbed him.” Jocelyn’s tiny, withered body was shuddering. Wayne sat down on the end of her bed, causing the guard to step forward. He gestured for her to back off and then put an arm around Jocelyn’s thin shoulders.

  “It’s going to be okay,” he murmured. She shook her head. Pulling away from him, she lay back on her pillow. “Really, Jocelyn, if you didn’t even have an attorney, that could be grounds to toss out your conviction. I’ll try to locate Mrs. Wilshire and see if she’ll write a letter of support for you. If none of that works, I’ll take the gun to the authorities and turn myself in as an accessory.”

  “What good would that do?” Jocelyn’s eyes were closing in fatigue. “My life is almost over now. It’s like the first time, Wayne. You’ve come too late to save me.” Her harsh words were softened by a gentle touch on his hand.

  Wayne felt as if an arrow had pierced his heart. Stumbling out of the infirmary, he almost bumped into the prison doctor. He forced himself to calm down and take the opportunity to find out about Jocelyn’s medical prognosis.

  “How long will Jocelyn, I mean Joci, be in the infirmary, doctor?” Wayne asked.

  “Are you a family member?” The man gave him a searching look.

  Wayne nodded. “She’s my foster mother. When I was young, she didn’t use her Native American name, so I think of her as Jocelyn. But as far as I know, I’m all the family she has left.”

  “I’m sorry to tell you that she’s not leaving here.” The doctor shook his head. “She has aggressive lung cancer, stage four. She starts chemo next week.” He touched Wayne’s shoulder briefly before walking away.

  Wayne Nichols leaned against the cold cement block wall until the guard told him it was time to go. A fierce wind blasted him on the walk to his car, and he almost welcomed the punishing chill as he thought about his next steps. Icy conditions aside, he had to get to Lansing.

  Chapter Thirteen

  January 11th

  Mae December

  Mae drove herself to meet Tammy at Promises, the bridal and formal dress shop in Rosedale. She was feeling okay, but low on energy. Still, it felt good to get out of the house. Tammy had already picked out four potential wedding gowns with her mom, and said she needed help narrowing them down. Mae could only hope that an awful bridesmaid dress wasn’t about to be inflicted upon her. There were several already hanging in her closet.

  She called Ben’s office and left a phone message. Hopefully he had gotten an ID on the stabbing victim she found in the Little Harpeth River. Until that happened, she knew she would be no help on the case. In fact, she wondered if she could help at all this time. When the victim was her neighbor, Ruby Mead Allison, or her sister’s former boyfriend, Tommy Ferris, she’d had lots of ideas for Ben. This person was a complete stranger. Parking in the alley behind the store, she hurried inside. Her car had barely warmed up on the short drive into town on this frosty morning.

  Tammy was standing on a raised circular platform in front of the three-way mirror with one hand holding a long, white satin dress against her torso. She looked at Mae’s reflection in the mirror and narrowed her eyes.

  “It’s sticking out farther already,” she whispered. “Nothing is hanging right on me.”

  Mae stood looking at the dress for a moment before saying, “How about showing me the other three you found? Maybe one of those would fit you better.”

  Tammy dutifully tried on each gown, her expression more discouraged each time she ascended the circular raised platform. At the end she was pouting. While that pout was known to perform miracles of persuasion with men, it had no effect on Mae.

  Mae tilted her head as she gave her best friend the onceover, then glanced around the shop. “I’m sorry to say this, Tammy, but perhaps virginal innocence is not the right look for the over thirty and pregnant.”

  “What did you just say to me?” Tammy’s usual soft, breathy voice turned shrill. The shop manager and her assistant looked at each other and moved over to the far side of the store.

  Mae bit her lip. Hoping to forestall a Tammy tantrum, she used the sort of soothing tone that usually worked on a nervous puppy.

  “You’re always telling me I should play up my best features and downplay the parts I’m not as happy with, right?”

  “Right.” Tammy bit the word off, but seemed to be listening.

  “Well, your skin is glowing and your hair looks healthy. As do your tatas,” Mae gestured to Tammy’s bosom.

  Tammy gave a surprised snort of laughter. “But?” she asked.

  “Your waistline doesn’t need to be emphasized,” Mae told her gently. “Did you pick out anything that’s a little more flowing?”

  “Mae, you know I like my clothes fitted.”

  “Maybe a color would be better,” Mae said, as inspiration struck. “You’re getting married on Valentine’s Day. What about red or pink?” She walked over to a display of event gowns in pinks, fuchsias, and reds. “Look at this one.” Selecting a low-cut, floor length gown in crimson red, she held it up for her friend to see. The store manager inched closer, and Mae smiled at her.

  “That would look amazing on you,” declared the woman, whose nametag read ‘Shop Manager, My name is Karen.’ She took the gown from Mae’s hands and held it out to Tammy like a peace offering. “It’s a size six, which would usually be way too big for you.” She gave Mae an almost imperceptible wink. “In another month it will fit perfectly. Clarissa,” she called to her associate, “would you help Miss Tammy in the fitting room? She’ll need the hem pinned up on this red one.”

  Tammy allowed herself to be spirited away. Mae sank into one of the brocade upholstered slipper chairs and thanked Karen for smoothing the troubled waters.

  “Oh, honey, that was nothing—just doing my job. You should see some of the brides that come in here. They just pitch a fit and fall in it! And she really will be a gorgeous sight in that red gown. We have red satin heels here too. What are you wearing for the wedding? I assume you’re her maid of honor, the way you talked her down off the ledge just now.”

  “She’s done the same for me many times. We’ve been friends since sixth grade. I think it’s just me standing up with her. It won’t be a
big wedding.”

  “Still, you’ll want something to go with the red, if that’s the one she selects.”

  Tammy emerged from the fitting room in the dark red dress, wearing a dazzling smile. She ascended the platform and grinned at Mae and Karen.

  “You’re brilliant, Mae-Mae. I love this dress! It’s a whole lot cheaper than any of the wedding dresses, too. Clarissa said I could have it taken in later and shortened to cocktail length to use again. How about you pick out a black cocktail dress to stand up with me? I can carry white roses and you can carry a red bouquet. It’ll be perfect.”

  Mae turned to Karen. “I think we have a winner. Could you show me some black cocktail dresses in a size eight? I’m not going to try anything on with this cast, but Tammy can pick whichever one she wants me to wear.”

  Tammy’s mother, Grace, had been saving money for her daughter’s wedding for years. When Tammy called to tell her about the fabulous red dress and how low the price was, she’d insisted on paying for Mae’s dress as well. Mae took the phone from Tammy to thank her.

  Grace said, “It’s my pleasure, sweetheart. Besides, those two dresses combined are nowhere near what I thought I’d be spending. I’m so happy she agreed to marry Patrick. I was starting to think I’d never see her wedding day. Plus, having a baby on the way …. I’m just tickled to death.”

  “I know, and you’re going to be a wonderful grandma. It’s very exciting. I’ll give the phone back to Tammy. Thanks again, Miss Grace.”

  As soon as Tammy ended the call, Mae gave her a one-armed hug and said goodbye. “I need to get home and check on the puppies I’m fostering. And I’m going to try and book a band for your reception. We have just a little more than a month to get this put together, you know.”

  Tammy widened her eyes. “I know, I’ll call you later. Thanks so much, Mae-Mae.” She misted up. Pregnancy was obviously making her friend more emotional than ever.

  Mae called Jill Chapman after she got home. Jill was a friend, as well as a contact from her ‘former life.’ During her relationship with Noah, she had met lots of people in the music industry, especially after the song he wrote called ‘Miss December’ became a big hit. Jill was one of her favorites as a person as well as a performer.

  “Hi, Mae,” Jill answered on the third ring.

  “Hey, Jill. How’re you doing?”

  “Besides it being way too cold outside, I’m just fine.”

  The two friends chatted about the unusually hard winter this year, and caught up on each other’s lives for a while. Finally, Mae got around to the reason for her call, having abided by the southern custom of exchanging pleasantries before getting down to business.

  “Jill, you remember my friend Tammy Rodgers, right?”

  “Who could forget Miss Tammy? We called her Cupid because the men just fell in love with her all the time.”

  Mae laughed. “Right. Well, she’s finally getting married on Valentine’s Day. It’s on a Friday this year and the reception is at my house. I was hoping you could bring your band and play for the party if you aren’t already booked.”

  “I know I’m in town that weekend. Let me check with the guys and I’ll shoot you a text if we can do it. Good talking to you, sweetie. Bye.”

  After ending the call, Mae went back to the boarding barn to check on the three foster puppies and her paid boarders—Lulu, Domino, and Maggie Pie. Mae checked the thermometer on the wall. The temperature inside the barn was only forty-eight degrees, but the pit bull puppies were in their usual pile and the Boston terriers were curled up together as well. Lulu seemed fine in her kennel. She checked everyone’s water dishes and gave the puppies their second feeding of the day.

  They were still having some trouble eating solid food, so Mae added water to their dishes. It rapidly turned the puppy chow to mush. The ASPCA vet estimated the age of the pups at eleven or twelve weeks, so they needed to eat three times a day. They were so funny, shouldering each other away and putting their front feet in the dish. They were making puppy noises too, practicing their tiny growls. After they finished eating, she washed off their faces with the “wet ones” she kept in the barn for just such occasions. Although it was still cold, Mae led them outside for some play time.

  The sun was warm beside the barn where she and the puppies could shelter from the wind. The sky was a vivid blue and she held her face up to the light, feeling a little sun-starved as well as fatigued. The puppies ran around, jumping on each other and growling fiercely. She took them back to their pen after about fifteen minutes, loved on Lulu and her aunt and uncle’s Boston terriers for a bit, and went into her historic farmhouse to check on her own four dogs and make some lunch. She had bills to pay and lots of planning still to do for Patrick and Tammy’s big day.

  Mae was working at her desk in the kitchen later when Dory called, wanting to bring a boy named Ray Fenton over to meet her. Dory had mentioned he was the young man who reported the animal cruelty at the puppy mill. She hoped Mae would give him an after school job. Mae told Dory to bring him over around four that day, then dug around in her freezer for some of her apricot-walnut bread—Dory’s favorite. She found a loaf and put it on the counter to thaw.

  Her cellphone buzzed on the counter. The text was from Jill. “Tough Act can make it on 2-14, will call re details.”

  Mae was thrilled by the news. The musicians in Jill’s band, Tough Act to Follow, were all excellent, and Jill’s voice—smooth, but rough around the edges—complemented her band and vice versa. It would be quite a night. Now, to begin the search for a caterer.

  When Miss Dory Clarkson walked into Mae’s kitchen at just after four that afternoon, she looked fabulous in a purple sweater dress and high-heeled black boots. She gave Mae a quick hug.

  “This young man is Mr. Ray Fenton.” She presented her slim, teenage companion, who shook Mae’s hand.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Miss December,” he said. He seemed shy—when he shook her hand his face colored a bit.

  “It’s good to meet you too, Ray. You can call me Mae. I understand you’ve worked with dogs already.” He nodded. Tallulah, her black pug, skidded around the corner and Ray’s face lit up.

  “Okay if I pet her?” he asked. Mae nodded. He knelt down and held out his hand. The little pug sniffed him and consented to a belly rub. Mae and Dory smiled at each other. Ray was small for a high school boy. He seemed polite and certainly was good with dogs. Mae knew that he had lost his job after the puppy mill was raided, and Dory said he was a good kid. She decided to trust her own and Dory’s instincts and give him a chance.

  “I can pay you six dollars an hour, if you can come three afternoons a week after school and help me with the dogs. I think you could ride the school bus here, and we’d work out a ride home for you, if you’re interested.” She gestured at her cast. “As you can see, I could use a hand around here.”

  “Yes ma’am, thank you ma’am.” He got to his feet. “I can start tomorrow, ma’am.”

  Mae smiled at his squeaky-voiced enthusiasm. “Good. And really, you can call me Mae. Do you have any questions?”

  “Miss Dory told me you were keeping three puppies from the raid. Could I see them?”

  “Sorry, I don’t have time to show you the puppies now, but you can see them tomorrow.”

  “Do you have a pure white one?” She could hear the hope in his voice.

  “Sure do,” Mae said.

  “Mr. Clifton gave me one of the puppies. I named her Pearl Jam. I sure hope she’s here at your place.”

  “In that case, go ahead and take a quick look,” Mae smiled at him. “I bet that’s the little girl I’ve been calling Pearl.”

  Ray dashed out to the barn and returned with a huge grin on his face. “She’s here,” he said. “I’m so happy she’s okay. Thank you Miss Mae. I probably need to get home and check on my mom if that’s okay.”

  Mae gave Dory a loaf of her apricot-walnut bread to take home, walked them out to Dory’s car, and said goodbye.<
br />
  “Thank you for doing this, honey,” Dory said.

  “Thanks for bringing him over. Oh, and by the way—you know we talked about me helping you with the investigation, not just fostering some puppies.”

  Dory paused, her hand on the door handle of her car. “You’re right. You can drive, right? Come into the office tomorrow. You can look at the photos from the raid and help me with this report. I need to substantiate the animal cruelty claims. Or we can run out to the site. Maybe that would be even better.”

  “I think that would. Around ten?” Mae asked.

  Dory nodded. “Sounds good.” She climbed into her red Thunderbird and closed the door. As she started the car and rolled her window down partway, she noticed Ray, already in the passenger seat.

  “Okay.” Mae waved at Dory and her new hire. “See you tomorrow morning, Dory. Ray, I’ll see you after school.”

  She watched Dory’s car go down her driveway, turn left and leave the valley before she went back inside. This should be interesting. I’ve never had an employee before. She walked into the kitchen and made herself a cup of hot tea before going back to the wedding plans.

  Chapter Fourteen

  January 12th

  Detective Wayne Nichols

  Wayne left his hotel in Ypsilanti, and after fighting the wintry roads for almost two hours, he walked into a large brick building near the Capitol in Lansing. He had spoken with Enid Lawton on the phone yesterday and offered to donate to her project. Wayne was eager to meet with her face-to-face. He took the elevator up to the fourth floor and went down the dingy hallway to a door with Enid Lawton, LLC lettered on the glass. A small white card reading “Abused Women’s Commutation Project” had been taped below Ms. Lawton’s name.

  Wayne knocked and a voice said, “Come in.” Inside the door to a small room, a young college-age girl sat at a battered old desk made of oak.