Three Dog Day

by Lia Farrell

  Ben shuffled his feet. His lips twitched into a lopsided grin. He turned quickly and left the room.

  Wayne was breathing hard. If it was the only way to nail Aarne Outinen as Kurt’s killer, he might have to ask their lab people test the gun for fingerprints. If he did, he would be violating every police rule governing the handling of evidence. But unless he could get Aarne listed as his brother’s killer, and free Jocelyn, the guilt would never leave him. He walked on the edge of a razor.

  Chapter Twenty

  January 14th

  Dory Clarkson

  Grabbing a coffee while assiduously averting her eyes from the siren lure of the gleaming donut box on the conference room table, Dory went back to her desk. She felt quite proud of herself. She had nailed Mr. Presumptuous Fuller, who thought he was so high and mighty, and raised the dietary standards of the office to boot. Ben had asked her to get an All-Points Bulletin out on Clifton and make an appointment with Ray and his mother to come into the office for an interview. However, she decided to call the ASPCA first.

  “ASPCA,” the bored teenaged voice answered.

  “May I speak to Mr. Gunderson? This is Dory Clarkson.”

  “Hang on.”

  Dory inspected a nail that was chipping and kicked her heels off under her desk until the man picked up.

  “Gunderson.”

  “Good morning, Mr. Gunderson. It’s Dory Clarkson. I’m calling to find out whether Mr. Clifton has contacted you?”

  “No such luck. As I told you the other day, we obtained a court order to put all of the dogs into fostering—all of them but Big Daddy. We couldn’t get anyone to take him, so we’re keeping him here for the moment. Going to run him through the database.”

  Dory wondered what sort of database there was for dogs. “Can you hold a hearing if the owner doesn’t show up?”

  “No. We have to wait three days for him to show. If the owner doesn’t appear in that time, and the animals have been abandoned, we can seize them. Did the sheriff issue a citation?”

  “Yes, he did, and a second one yesterday, but Mr. Clifton hasn’t contacted our office yet. We’ve had a BOLO out for several days. This morning the sheriff asked me to get an APB out too.”

  “We presented the ASPCA case to the prosecutor’s office for further evaluation. I argued for prosecution on the basis that the animals were abandoned. They agreed.”

  “If Jerrod Clifton shows up, I’ll let you know. Please let me know if he contacts the ASPCA.”

  “Will do. And … Miss Clarkson? You know I wish the press would just keep their noses out of our business, but our attorney said I had to turn over the names of the people who are fostering the puppies. They’ll be contacting Miss December. I thought I’d let you know so you can warn her.”

  They said goodbye. Dory sent Mae a quick text to let her know she’d be contacted by the press; then she called Ray’s home phone number. When the shaky voice of his mother answered, she said, “Mrs. Fenton?”

  “This is she.”

  “This is Eudora Clarkson from the sheriff’s office. I’m calling to schedule you and your son to come into the office.”

  “Oh dear.” The woman’s voice was so soft Dory could hardly hear what she was saying. “I don’t drive anymore and Ray doesn’t have his license yet.”

  “That’s no problem. We can come and pick you up. I’m just trying to get a time when you both could come in. Would tomorrow morning work for you? Around ten?”

  “Why do you want to talk to me? I don’t know anything. I have multiple sclerosis, and I’m in a wheelchair.”

  “I’m sorry Mrs. Fenton, but Ray is a minor, so a parent has to be with him when we talk to him.”

  Dory heard the woman catch her breath.

  “What do you want to talk to him about?”

  Dory had a niggling feeling that Ray Fenton hadn’t even told his mother about the knife discovered on the Clifton property. She lowered her voice and spoke slowly, “Mrs. Fenton, did Ray tell you that we found a knife buried on the Clifton property?” There was a long pause. She heard the woman coughing.

  “No. I didn’t know,” she whispered.

  “Yes, and a body was found nearby in the river. There was no identification on the dead man and we’re hoping that Ray can tell us who he is. We just want him to look at some photographs.”

  “Do you really need me?” She sounded frightened. “It’s okay with me if he comes in alone. I’ll sign something giving you permission if necessary.”

  “In that case, we’d like to talk with him today. Could I have one of the deputies come by your house and get your signed permission? Once we have that document, would it be okay with you if we go by the high school and pick him up?”

  Ray’s mother agreed and Dory clicked off the phone. She was going to ask Wayne Nichols, their chief detective, to use some of his finely tuned skills to get the kid to tell them everything he knew. And Dory was determined to be in the interview room with them.

  The phone rang a few minutes later and Dory picked it up, absently saying, “Sheriff’s Office.”

  “Dory, its Evangeline,” her friend said, breathlessly.

  “Good morning, Evangeline. Always good to hear from you.”

  “Have you got a TV in your office?”

  “We do. What’s up?”

  “Turn on Channel Three right now. The news is on. They’ve got a story about the raid at the puppy mill. You’re on television, girl.”

  “OMG,” Dory said. She quickly hung up the phone, dashed down the hall to the break room, turned the TV on and flipped to Channel Three. Wayne, who was in the room getting coffee, stayed to watch.

  The reporter, Carrie Allen, was saying, “All of Rosedale was shocked recently to find that a puppy mill has been operating in Rose County.” She looked angrily into the camera. “The breeding facility was discovered on property belonging to a Mr. Jerrod Clifton.” Her voice faded as video of the rescue day came on. Dory was pleased to see herself looking quite slim. Not quite as slim as she wanted to be, but less curvy than before. Black jeans and celery sticks could do that for a person.

  The reporter continued. “All the rescued dogs are presently being fostered, but Channel Three is asking all our viewers to step up to the plate and give these beautiful baby pit bulls ‘Forever Homes.’ We will be continuing to follow this story and interviewing the temporary foster parents. More information concerning a grisly discovery made at the site will be reported on Crime Beat, coming up right after the station break.”

  After a half dozen commercials, the program switched to the crime reporter, Ellis Knox, a seriously handsome black guy with tightly curled hair and a goatee. He was interviewing the young girl who had been working with Ray the day of the raid.

  “I’m talking today with Miss Allison Ware, who was present the day of the puppy mill raid. Miss Allie, can you tell us what else was discovered that day?”

  A terrible sinking feeling hit Dory’s stomach. This was going to be bad.

  “Yes, sir. There was an investigator from the sheriff’s office there. Her name was Clarkson. She found a bloody rag and a knife buried on the property.” Dory swallowed, feeling sick. Ben was going to kill her.

  “Did you speak directly with Investigator Clarkson about the discovery?”

  “Yes, I did, and she also talked with Miss Carrie Adams about what the dog dug up.”

  Ellis Knox turned back to face the viewers, saying, “Rumors have been circulating that a dead body was recently found in the Little Harpeth river. However, the sheriff’s office has continued to say ‘no comment’ when called by this station. The amount of blood on the rag found at the Clifton property implies a probable murder scene.” Dory’s heart was beating hard, as video of the dark hole, the bloody rag, and the knife was shown. The camera switched to Dory, standing beside Carrie Adams, who was asking whether the blood came from a person or an animal.

  Dory watched herself start to blurt out something about the body that Mae
found and then saying, “This interview is over.” Seeing the footage recording her stupidity, Dory felt light headed. She pulled out a chair and fell into it.

  The camera returned to Ellis Knox. “I’m only speculating here, but one wonders, when puppy mills are not against the law, why an investigator from the sheriff’s office was on site for an ASPCA raid? Did Sheriff Bradley place Investigator Clarkson on the case knowing in advance a murder weapon might turn up? Does the sheriff already know where the bodies are? We have also heard an unsubstantiated rumor that Sheriff Bradley’s girlfriend—local dog breeder and boarder, Mae December—found the body. If so, that’s the second body she’s found in less than a year.” He paused for dramatic effect and Dory snuck a quick look at Wayne, whose eyes were glued to the screen.

  “As we all know, this is an election year. Will the good citizens of Rosedale reelect a sheriff who employs investigators who leak sensitive information to underage girls working for the ASPCA? And even worse, a sheriff who is likely investigating a third murder in Rose County in less than a year? Can Sheriff Ben Bradley really keep the people of Rose County safe?”

  Dory flicked off the television, horrified and full of guilt. I’m doomed. Ben Bradley is going to fire me or kill me or both.

  She had asked Deputy Cam to get Mrs. Fenton’s signed permission paper and pick Ray Fenton up from high school before Evangeline called and she made her mad dash to the break room. Knowing they would be back soon, Dory asked Wayne if he would interview the boy.

  “Sure, I’ll talk to him,” Wayne said. “Have you told Ben about talking to that reporter?”

  “No,” Dory said, pinning her arms against her sides. She could feel her stomach roiling. “I was hoping they’d never use that footage.”

  “You better call him. If you don’t, the sheriff’s going to hear about it some other way. If you can get the police artist drawing of the victim, I can show it to the kid and have him look at the mug shots Cam pulled of animal traffickers.”

  “I’ll tell him when he gets back to the office, don’t worry. Can I be in the room when you talk to Ray?” Dory asked. Wayne shrugged. “Please? He knows me, and he’s kind of timid. He might feel more comfortable with me there.”

  “Okay, if you think it would help, you can be in there.” Wayne walked out of the room.

  Dory went back to her desk and located the police artist sketch of John Doe. While she was in the interview room with Ray and Detective Nichols, she hoped to extract an identification of the victim. Without getting an ID for their John Doe, Dory was afraid she would find herself out of a job—as soon as her boss learned about her on-air blunder.

  When Deputy Cam brought the teenager into the office, Dory buzzed Wayne. Detective Nichols walked into the reception area.

  “Detective Nichols, I’d like to introduce you to Ray Fenton,” Dory said. “This is the young man who risked losing his job when he turned Jerrod Clifton in for neglect and cruelty to animals. And he was with me when we found the knife.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Fenton,” the Detective said. Ray’s shoulders straightened at being addressed as “Mr.”

  “Pleased to meet you too, sir,” Ray’s voice squeaked.

  “Come down to the conference room, Ray,” Dory said and led the way. She opened the door and got Ray seated at the table.

  Detective Nichols rested a hand on the drawing of John Doe. Taking his hand away, he said, “This is the man who was found dead in the Little Harpeth River that runs behind the Clifton property. Do you recognize him?”

  Ray looked at the drawing for a long time. He shook his head, but Dory could practically hear him trying to decide what to say. He might not have been prepared to outright lie to the police, but he was definitely holding back.

  “Are you sure?” Detective Nichols asked quietly. “Take your time, Ray. I need you to be honest with me. I’m going to ask you again. Do you recognize this man?”

  “No. I mean, yes,” he said, his voice very quiet. Ray took a deep breath. There was the faintest sheen of sweat on his forehead. He rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Just tell us what you know about him,” Wayne said. He used his calmest tone of voice, which had an almost loving quality. Dory could see it had an effect on the boy.

  “Um … yes. I do recognize the person,” Ray said in a wavering voice. He dragged his hands through his hair. He looked furtive; his Adam’s apple bobbed. “Mr. Jerrod had him come out sometimes, usually when I wasn’t there. But the next time I came to work, some of the puppies would be missing. I only saw him once or twice. I’m pretty sure his name was Johns or something like that.” He blinked and Dory thought he was fighting tears.

  “You must’ve hated his guts,” Dory said. “Smart as you are, you probably figured that he was doing something bad with those puppies.”

  Ray’s lips were moving, as if he was struggling to find the right thing to say. He bit his lower lip. “See … this one day, he tried to take my puppy. My own Pearl Jam ….” The words seemed to burst from him.

  “Okay, let’s step back here a minute,” Wayne said. “I wasn’t informed that you had a pup of your own. Did it come from Clifton’s puppy mill?”

  “Yes, Mr. Jerrod said I could have a puppy. She was the last in the litter and he wanted to breed the female again. That’s how I got Pearl Jam. I named her that because of the color of her fur. She’s almost all white.”

  “And where was Pearl Jam the day of the raid?” Dory asked, keeping her voice soft and sweet. She smiled at Ray.

  “I hid her in a crate under some old rugs behind the barn. I couldn’t have her at home because my mom is too sick. So I’d keep her at Clifton’s. But the day the ASPCA came, she got loose somehow and Mr. Gunderson took her.” As Ray told his story, the timbre of his voice became higher and more strident until it was nearly a wail. He struggled for composure. At last he took a deep breath and said, “It’s going to be okay, though, because that awful man is dead now and Miss December is taking good care of my puppy.”

  There was a quick rap on the conference room door and Dory went to open it. Cam was standing in the hall.

  “Miss Dory, I’m so sorry to interrupt,” she whispered, “but Sheriff Bradley just called in. He and Deputy George are on their way back here. You said you wanted to know when he got back.”

  Dory thanked Ray and asked Cam to take him back to school. She turned back to Detective Nichols, who was giving her a strange look. “Ben said to have Ray look at mug shots of known animal traffickers,” he said quietly. “I’ll finish up here before Cam takes him back to school.”

  “We better not. The sheriff’s on his way back. He’s going to be mad as hell that I talked with the press and that I was in the interview room with you. I should be at my desk.”

  “Indeed,” Wayne said and Dory quivered.

  Sheriff Bradley and Deputy George came through the office door minutes later. Dory was sitting meekly at her post.

  “The APB paid off and the state troopers picked up Jerrod Clifton. When he gets here, get Detective Fuller to book him on suspicion of murder,” the sheriff told Deputy Phelps over his shoulder. “We’re going to let him sit in a cell overnight and question him in the morning.” He turned to face Dory. “Miss Clarkson, I want a word. In my office.” Ben’s expression was a study in barely controlled rage.

  Investigator Clarkson, looking hangdog, presented herself at the door of the sheriff’s office. Ben just looked at her for a moment or two. He waved her in but didn’t invite her to be seated.

  “What the hell, Dory? What the hell were you thinking leaking the discovery of the probable murder weapon to the press?” Ben stopped as Dory raised her hand. “Not to mention you almost slipped and told them about the body Mae found. Oh yes, I know all about the news coverage.”

  “Sir, I didn’t tell them about the body, I only said—”

  “Save it, Clarkson. Zip it. You’re in so deep here, you better not say another word.”

  “Yes, sir
,” Dory said.

  “Not even ‘yes sir.’ Nothing. I want silence, is that clear? Are you totally unaware of the office policy? As you should know, what we say to the press about any serious crime until we have a suspect in custody is ‘no comment.’ ”

  “I just didn’t remember the policy until it was too late.” Dory said plaintively.

  He shook his head in disgust. “It’s clear to me that you lack any vestige of common sense.”

  Tears formed in Dory’s eyes.

  “Detective Nichols, Detective Fuller, and I will obtain the vic’s identity and find his killer with no further help from you.”

  “May I please say something, Sheriff?” Dory asked. Her voice was positively pitiful.

  “It had better be good.” Ben’s expression was thunderous.

  “Ray Fenton said John Doe’s last name was Johns or something. That was good, wasn’t it?”

  Ben took a deep breath. “It’s a help, but you shouldn’t have been in there questioning him in the first place! I am normally a patient man—”

  At the moment, Dory found this hard to believe.

  “But my patience is at the breaking point here. Why the hell did you overstep your bounds this way? I swear to God, woman,” Ben stared down at his desk.

  The tears were streaming down Dory’s cheeks now. “Am I fired, boss?”

  Ben hesitated, shook his head and sighed. “I’ll probably regret this, but no. I’m not going to fire you. But I am demoting you. You’re no longer an investigator.”

  Dory bit her lip to stop herself from begging.

  “You’re back on your former duties, including full time on the phones. Now get out of here.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  January 14th

  Mae December