Lia Farrell - Mae December 02 - Two Dogs Lie Sleeping

by Lia Farrell

  “So he knew you were closing in on him.”

  “Right. He decided to get rid of the murder weapon and stash the cash somewhere we wouldn’t find it.”

  “But you told me you didn’t find any cash when you searched the cabin.”

  “We didn’t. The second guy—the one Wayne caught in the cabin—was searching for the money too, but he didn’t find it, either. We have no idea who he is and he got away, so it’s not likely he’ll turn up and testify. Without the money, or some other evidence on Greg, I don’t think the DA will indict him.” Ben sighed.

  “Well, maybe that’s for the best.”

  Heat flushed through Ben’s body. “What are you saying? Greg Townsend gave the orders that sent two young men to their premature deaths. I’m doing everything I can to get the bastard.” Ben’s fists were tight; his fingernails bit into his palms.

  “But you just said you don’t have any evidence of Greg’s involvement. Isn’t it enough that you have Henry Covington?”

  “Why are you trying to discourage me from getting Townsend? He killed Tom Ferris just the same as if he pulled the trigger. And he must’ve sent Covington after you, as soon as he saw that ring. You were threatened. Don’t you take that seriously?” Ben was raising his voice again.

  “I do take it seriously—I’ve just been so worried about July. In the last ten days her old boyfriend died from a gunshot wound right in front of her, her marriage has been in trouble, and her little girl had a concussion. Sandi Townsend is her best friend.” Mae took a deep breath. “Arresting Greg could destroy that family, and I’m not sure my sister can handle one more tragedy.”

  “You can’t seriously think I would hold off on arresting Greg Townsend just to make July’s life easier.” Ben felt an iron band tightening around his head.

  “No, you’re missing the point. You don’t seem to realize the situation I’m in with this, I want to help you, but I don’t want anyone else to get hurt. Don’t you see?”

  “You’re the one who’s missing the point, Mae. My hands have been tied for most of this investigation because of my relationship with you and your family. I have a duty to the people of Rosedale. Sometimes people do get hurt when the truth comes out, but it’s still my job to find it.”

  Ben paused. His chest was tight and there were spots in front of his eyes. Thoreau came into the room and went straight to Mae. The old dog leaned into her. They both stared at Ben, and Thoreau gave a little whine.

  Ben rose to his feet. “I’m done with this conversation, and I might need a break from this relationship. You’re supposed to be supportive, not interfere with my investigation. Where’s your loyalty, Mae, to your sister or me?”

  Ben stomped out through the kitchen, slamming the back door behind him. Mae’s car was behind his, blocking him from leaving. He started up his truck and whipped it around, driving right through a flower bed. He drove home at a furious pace.

  Even after everything they’d been through, Mae had taken July’s side, not his. He would be damned if he told her another thing about his cases. No matter how he examined the conversation, Mae December was dead wrong.

  Sitting in his truck outside his house, he banged his hands on the steering wheel again and again and groaned aloud. His body was sore all over. He rubbed his clenched jaw. This was worse than anything he had felt when Katie Hudson left him.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Mae December

  Mae didn’t sleep all night, consumed with guilt and fear that her relationship with Ben was shattered beyond repair. When she went down to the kitchen the next morning, she was still thinking about his face right before he left. What have I done? How could I let this happen? She sat down abruptly and punched her fists against her thighs. Her throat was sore. She sat at the table for a long time, hunched and miserable. She hated the thought of what Greg Townsend’s arrest would do to Sandi and her kids, and maybe even to July, but Ben was right.

  Finally the dogs’ whining penetrated her fog. She got up slowly and pulled the Tater from her crate. Carrying the puppy, she called the other dogs to come out. They walked outside into the dew that was fast burning off as the sun rose higher. She took a deep breath. Had she lost him for good? She started to cry.

  After taking a shower and getting dressed, all in slow motion, Mae knew she had to do something to get Ben to forgive her. It wouldn’t do to merely apologize. She had to show him that she supported him. Ben needed something concrete on Greg. He had checked Henry’s financials to no avail. If Greg, or someone at the law firm, had paid Henry to kill Tommy, there had to be a money trail. Hiring a paid killer would require a big payoff.

  Once in her kitchen, Mae texted the word “Avalanche” to her best friend’s cellphone. It was the code word she and Tammy had chosen for disaster. Tammy called her back immediately, sounding energetic and happy.

  “Hi, Mae,” she said.

  “Ben has Henry Covington, the one who threatened me, in jail, so you two don’t need to stay with me. But I do need your help.” Mae went over the events of the previous evening with her best friend. “Do you have a clue what I could do to make it up to Ben?”

  “No, I really don’t,” Tammy said, her breathy little voice was almost a whisper. “That’s awful. Taking a break from a relationship usually means breaking up.”

  “I know.” Mae heard Patrick’s voice in the background.

  “What’s Patrick saying?”

  “He says you could get new black underwear,” Tammy giggled.

  “Tell Patrick to get his mind out of his pants,” Mae snapped. “If you have a better idea, call me back.”

  Sitting at the kitchen table, Mae went back over everything she and Ben had talked about last night. Covington had been paid in cash to kill Tommy Ferris. It was likely that he got the money from the Townsend law offices before he met his ex-girlfriend at a bar.

  That had to be it: he gave the money to the ex. If only there was a record of that payment. She wondered if Ben had looked for any large withdrawals from the Townsend practice. If they could find a record of a big payout, that would certainly implicate Greg.

  Later that morning, Mae assembled all the checks she had received in the last month for dog boarding and drove to the bank. As she walked in, she noticed a coffee urn and a plate of chocolate chip cookies. She helped herself, hoping sugar and caffeine would settle her nerves. A young black man was standing behind the counter. His name tag read, “My name is Mike. May I help you?”

  “Good morning, Mike,” Mae said. Still distraught over her argument with Ben, she forced herself to smile at the teller. “I have a deposit and then I hope you can help me with a question.”

  “Happy to.” He took the deposit slip. “Did you want cash back, Miss December?” he asked, glancing at her name on the deposit slip.

  “No thank you,” she said. “Here’s what I wanted to ask. If I were to take out a large sum of cash, say twenty-five thousand from my account, would the bank keep a record of that withdrawal?”

  He glanced at the computer screen. “Miss December, I’m very sorry, but you don’t have quite that much money in your account.” He was keeping a remarkably straight face, seeing that her balance was only a few hundred dollars.

  “I certainly don’t.” She nearly laughed. “I was just asking hypothetically.”

  “Since 9/11, the federal government requires that any bank giving a customer a sum of money over ten thousand dollars must fill out a Controlled Transaction Report. The form requires the person’s name, identification, and employment information. They can’t simply say they’re retired, for example; they have to say where they were employed and the reason for the withdrawal.”

  “Does the form require the name of the person who will receive the cash, by any chance?” she asked, crossing her fingers behind her back for luck.

  “It does. They have to list the beneficiary of the money.”

  “Perfect,” she said. “And if I gave you a date the money was received and
asked to see this form, could I?”

  He shook his head, and looked at her as if she was simple-minded. “Certainly not. It’s a confidential form filed with the federal government. The forms are kept in a central location with the Legal Services Division. The only way you could see them would be if you were in law enforcement and you had a subpoena for the records.”

  “You’ve been very helpful,” she told him. “Is there any other way to find out if a person was in the bank on a particular day?”

  “Not in Rosedale, but in the bigger banks, they usually have video surveillance of the tellers, in case there was a robbery.”

  “Great idea,” she murmured to herself, trying to think of a way to find out where the Townsend firm banked. “Thanks again, Mike.”

  When she walked toward the door of the bank she turned around, recognizing that Mike’s information could possibly salvage her relationship with the sheriff. She blew him a kiss. Mike looked startled but then made a motion with his hand, as if to catch the kiss and put it on his cheek. He winked at her.

  On the way back home, she called Dory from the car.

  “How’s Ben been today?” she asked, dreading the response. Ben hadn’t called and she hadn’t called him either. She knew he needed some time to cool off but at least she had something helpful. Now that she had the ammunition, she needed Dory’s help to take the next step.

  “The sheriff? The man is a grizzly bear. He stormed in this morning, practically fired the floaters instead of thanking them, sent Phelps and Fuller scurrying to go through the trash at a house that had been robbed. Since then he’s been sulking in his office. Our new deputy, Miss Gomez, was going to come in for an orientation. You better believe I cancelled that right away. What’s going on, honey?”

  “We had a fight last night. He was really mad when he left.”

  “About the Ferris case?”

  “Yes. July got a letter from Tom Ferris in the mail. Among other things, it said he believed Greg Townsend was involved in the Ryan Gentry murder.”

  “Wasn’t the sheriff glad to get that piece of evidence?”

  “Oh, Dory, I thought he would be. I gave him the letter. I should have given it to him sooner. But you know what my sister’s been through. I said it might be for the best if they didn’t arrest Greg because his wife and July are best friends.”

  Mae started tearing up. She gripped the steering wheel hard.

  Dory took a deep breath. “Young lady, as they used to say on the Lucille Ball show, you’ve got some ’splainin to do.”

  “I know, I was just torn between July and Ben.”

  “And it sounds like you chose your sister,” Dory said quietly.

  “That’s what Ben thinks too. But I want to help him close this case. If Greg really is behind all this, then he’s responsible for Tommy’s death and he shouldn’t get away with it. July will understand that.”

  “Mae, I’ve known you and July since you were little bitty girls. Your sister is tough. And you have your mother’s intuition—you’ve always been good at figuring things out. What’s your plan?”

  Mae got control of herself and said, “I’d like you to meet me for dinner. I found out something that could nail Greg Townsend.”

  Dory agreed, but said it needed to be a late one. They picked a place and time, 8:00 at O’Brien’s.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  July Powell

  Miranda called after breakfast and asked July to meet her at Tommy’s grave. She said they needed to say a final good-bye to the man who had been so important to them. Bethany would be joining them.

  I do need to say my good-byes, July thought, inhaling deeply. Especially since I never made it to Tommy’s funeral.

  “Are you still there, July?”

  “Yes, sorry. First I have to line up a babysitter. What time are you and Bethany going to be there?”

  “Noon, if that works for you.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  July got directions to the cemetery plot from Miranda before they ended their call. Then she dialed Abby, her seventeen-year-old babysitter. Abby agreed to come at eleven o’clock and take the kids to the neighborhood pool; that would give July a little time to get ready.

  After Abby came for the kids, July showered, dried her hair, applied makeup, and dressed carefully in a navy linen dress and heels. She put her wedding ring on and got her diamond stud earrings out of her jewelry box. She hesitated, but then grabbed Tommy’s class ring from the bottom drawer and dropped it into her purse. Once her earrings were on, she stood in front of the full-length mirror.

  “You can do this,” she told her reflection before heading off to bid a final farewell to her first love.

  Driving over to the cemetery, she heard her phone ring. Mae’s number was on the screen. She started to press the ignore button, then reconsidered. Mae probably understands what I’m feeling better than anyone else could. She answered, and asked her sister to meet her at the cemetery at one o’clock.

  “Sure, I need to tell you something, but we can talk then, good-bye.” Mae hung up.

  Miranda and Bethany were standing on either side of Tommy’s headstone when July arrived. She got out of her car and walked over to join them. Both the women looked up, and the resemblance between them was clear.

  “I don’t know why I never noticed before, but you do look like sisters,” July said.

  “You probably missed the resemblance because I’ve got thirty pounds on her,” Miranda pointed out, a little rueful smile lifting the corners of her mouth. “My only excuse for not accepting the truth was that I idolized my father. I should have believed you, Bethany. I’m so sorry.”

  “I forgive you, Miranda. I wish Tommy was with us today.” Bethany smiled sadly. “He would have been happy to see us together.”

  July reached into her purse and pulled Tommy’s ring out. She took a deep breath, and then handed it to Miranda. “I want you to have this. It was his class ring from college.”

  “Thank you, July, but I think Bethany should have it. At least I got to have a little brother for part of my life. She missed out on a lot because of my—I mean our—father.” Miranda’s eyes were reddening, and she sniffled. “Bethany just told me that Tommy planned to leave the house to me. I’m giving Bethany the money we found in the chair, and this ring, if you’re sure you can part with it.”

  “I’m sure.” July smiled at Bethany and Miranda through her own tears. “Thank you both for inviting me here today. I don’t need his ring anymore, but I did need to say good-bye to Tommy, and it’s good to know he has two sisters to remember him.”

  The three women embraced and cried together. After promising to keep in touch, Bethany left first; Miranda followed a few minutes later. July looked down at the fresh sod mounded over the grave and then up at the carved granite marker. The headstone read:

  THOMAS JOHN FERRIS—1978-2013—FOREVER YOUNG.

  “Are you all right, July?” Walking up beside her, Mae rested a hand on July’s shoulder.

  July nodded. “I’m okay.” She turned to her sister and looked at her searchingly. “How did you do it, Mae? How did you get over Noah and say good-bye to your future with him?”

  “I’m not sure,” Mae responded after a pause. “I loved him so much, but it might have been easier for me than it’s been for you—wondering all these years. At least with Noah I knew what happened and that he really was gone. Then I met Ben and he made me think I had another chance.” She winced. “Well, anyway, that’s what I need to talk to you about, if you’re ready to go. We can sit in my car together and I’ll fill you in.”

  July hugged her sister and then nodded. “Good-bye, Tommy.” She kissed her hand and pressed it against the cold stone, bidding farewell to their young love, to the baby they never had. She looked at Mae and reached out her hand. “C’mon, I think I’m ready to leave.”

  As the two sisters walked toward the parking lot, hand in hand, July couldn’t stop crying, but for the first time, the
tears were a relief. She took a deep breath, thinking about Fred and her children, appreciating the life she had. Everything turned out for the best for me after all, because of what he did for me. She stopped and turned back to look at his grave.

  “Thank you, Tommy, for protecting me long enough so that I could fall in love again and have a family.”

  Mae gave her hand a squeeze and the two women walked away together.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Mae December

  By evening Mae was feeling a little better. Talking with July had been a big help. After Mae told her sister about the conflict with Ben and the questions surrounding Greg Townsend, her sister had apologized. “I’m so sorry I put you in that position, Mae. You need to tell Ben everything. If Greg told Henry to commit those murders, then it’s better for Sandi and her children to know the truth about him.”

  July even urged her to text Ben about what they’d found at the Booth Mansion, saying she was sure Miranda wouldn’t mind, now that things were resolved with Bethany. Mae sent the text but Ben had yet to respond by the time she left her house to meet Dory at O’Brien’s for their late dinner.

  The Irish pub was small, with stone walls that were white-washed. You had to walk downstairs to get into the pub, but the owners had removed the whole ceiling of the back half of the basement and made it into an enormous skylight. Patrons stepped off the bottom step of a dark staircase into a room filled with the colors of the sunset.

  “Hi Dory,” Mae said when she saw the always impeccably groomed woman sitting in a booth. They ordered burgers and glasses of the house red. After taking a little time to eat, Mae told Dory her idea.

  “Ben thinks that Townsend paid Henry to do the murder, right? I figured out something at the bank today that Ben might be able to use to tie Greg to that money, and I think I know where the money is, but I need your help. Do you know who Henry’s former girlfriend is?”