Read Online Lia Farrell - Mae December 02 - Two Dogs Lie Sleeping by Lia Farrell - Free Book Online
Authors: Lia Farrell
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made him give up his whole life here.” Ben frowned and scratched his head. “Dory found out he didn’t even attend his parents’ funerals.”
“The motive for this killing goes back a long time,” Wayne said. “The Ferris murder might be a new case on top of a cold case.”
“Right, it’s like two sleeping dogs.” Ben grabbed the donuts and headed out the door.
On the way to the office, he called Dory. When she answered, he asked if she could look up the obituary for Mr. and Mrs. Rawlins.
“I want to know if an obit was placed in the student newspaper at Southeast Tennessee State. Can you check?”
“You bet,” Dory said.
When Ben walked into the office, he noticed Dory was wearing a purplish top with a gray skirt and some shiny silver and purple earrings. He made a mental note to ask her where she got them. It would be nice to get something similar for Mae, to thank her for keeping Matthew for the weekend.
“Purple earrings,” he said, “very nice.”
“Aubergine,” she corrected him.
Ben sighed.
Dory mentioned she had been on Facebook and Twitter. She’d found a high school reunion search trying to locate Tom Ferris. She sent out an email to the organizer and got a reply saying that they hadn’t gotten a response from Ferris, but she had received two e-requests for his contact information. One was from Miranda Stackhouse and one was from Bethany Cooper. Both women wanted to know if anyone had heard from Ferris. The emails were dated July 27th and 29th respectively.
“Here,” Ben said , handing Dory the donut box.
“I’m finally getting you trained,” she said.
“Where are the spikes this morning?” Wayne asked, referring to her usual stiletto heels. He had walked into the office right behind Ben.
“Under my desk,” she said. “They’re fine lookin’ but way too tight.” She was looking into the donut box. “Sheriff Bradley, I don’t see my blueberry donuts.”
“Right here,” he said with a cheerful smile, producing a small white paper sack from behind his back. “Just wanted to ruffle your feathers.”
“Would the two of you like to know what else I found?” she asked, looking at them indulgently.
“Sure would,” Ben said. “Come down to my office. I don’t want to be talking about this if anyone besides the staff walks in.” Taking the donut box, they went to his office.
“Please sit down.” Dory took the chair. Wayne remained standing.
“I checked the gun registry , and neither July Powell nor Miranda Stackhouse owns a gun. But Fred Powell does—an assault rifle.”
“Good Lord, an assault rifle .” Wayne started to pace. “Why not just buy an AK47 or a Kalashnikov? Well, it’s not important for this case, but what people who live in nice suburbs need with that kind of firepower is beyond me.”
“Well, the rifle is only used at a special shooting range ; apparently, he belongs to a club.”
“Good work, Dory .” Ben tapped his pencil rapidly on his desktop.
“That’s not all. I also located the cabbie who picked up Fred Powell from the airport. He dropped him off about four blocks from the Booth Showhouse at 4:45; that’s six miles from his home and ten miles from his office. The driver remembered, because Powell had him drive past the house first and then circle around to drop him at the corner nearby. He also tipped him very well.”
“So, if Fred stopped at the Booth Showhouse, maybe to see his wife, it could have been Fred that Mrs. Anderson saw coming out the French doors,” Ben said, thoughtfully. “July didn’t say anything about seeing him there, though.”
“We need to speak with him,” Wayne said. “It doesn’t sound like he has an alibi for the time of the shooting.” Turning to Dory he added, “Have I mentioned lately how much I appreciate you? And that you’re looking very lovely this morning? Good toenail polish.” Wayne wrapped an arm around Dory’s shoulders.
Ben stood up. It was time to end their little
“The motive for this killing goes back a long time,” Wayne said. “The Ferris murder might be a new case on top of a cold case.”
“Right, it’s like two sleeping dogs.” Ben grabbed the donuts and headed out the door.
On the way to the office, he called Dory. When she answered, he asked if she could look up the obituary for Mr. and Mrs. Rawlins.
“I want to know if an obit was placed in the student newspaper at Southeast Tennessee State. Can you check?”
“You bet,” Dory said.
When Ben walked into the office, he noticed Dory was wearing a purplish top with a gray skirt and some shiny silver and purple earrings. He made a mental note to ask her where she got them. It would be nice to get something similar for Mae, to thank her for keeping Matthew for the weekend.
“Purple earrings,” he said, “very nice.”
“Aubergine,” she corrected him.
Ben sighed.
Dory mentioned she had been on Facebook and Twitter. She’d found a high school reunion search trying to locate Tom Ferris. She sent out an email to the organizer and got a reply saying that they hadn’t gotten a response from Ferris, but she had received two e-requests for his contact information. One was from Miranda Stackhouse and one was from Bethany Cooper. Both women wanted to know if anyone had heard from Ferris. The emails were dated July 27th and 29th respectively.
“Here,” Ben said , handing Dory the donut box.
“I’m finally getting you trained,” she said.
“Where are the spikes this morning?” Wayne asked, referring to her usual stiletto heels. He had walked into the office right behind Ben.
“Under my desk,” she said. “They’re fine lookin’ but way too tight.” She was looking into the donut box. “Sheriff Bradley, I don’t see my blueberry donuts.”
“Right here,” he said with a cheerful smile, producing a small white paper sack from behind his back. “Just wanted to ruffle your feathers.”
“Would the two of you like to know what else I found?” she asked, looking at them indulgently.
“Sure would,” Ben said. “Come down to my office. I don’t want to be talking about this if anyone besides the staff walks in.” Taking the donut box, they went to his office.
“Please sit down.” Dory took the chair. Wayne remained standing.
“I checked the gun registry , and neither July Powell nor Miranda Stackhouse owns a gun. But Fred Powell does—an assault rifle.”
“Good Lord, an assault rifle .” Wayne started to pace. “Why not just buy an AK47 or a Kalashnikov? Well, it’s not important for this case, but what people who live in nice suburbs need with that kind of firepower is beyond me.”
“Well, the rifle is only used at a special shooting range ; apparently, he belongs to a club.”
“Good work, Dory .” Ben tapped his pencil rapidly on his desktop.
“That’s not all. I also located the cabbie who picked up Fred Powell from the airport. He dropped him off about four blocks from the Booth Showhouse at 4:45; that’s six miles from his home and ten miles from his office. The driver remembered, because Powell had him drive past the house first and then circle around to drop him at the corner nearby. He also tipped him very well.”
“So, if Fred stopped at the Booth Showhouse, maybe to see his wife, it could have been Fred that Mrs. Anderson saw coming out the French doors,” Ben said, thoughtfully. “July didn’t say anything about seeing him there, though.”
“We need to speak with him,” Wayne said. “It doesn’t sound like he has an alibi for the time of the shooting.” Turning to Dory he added, “Have I mentioned lately how much I appreciate you? And that you’re looking very lovely this morning? Good toenail polish.” Wayne wrapped an arm around Dory’s shoulders.
Ben stood up. It was time to end their little
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