One Dog Too Many (A Mae December Mystery) Read Online Free Page A

only need you to walk me through the events of the morning. Let me get the water.”
    He went over to the refrigerator and opened the door.
    “The bottles are on the bottom shelf.”
    The sheriff bent over. He has a cute behind . She smiled at him when he handed her the cold bottle. The corners of his blue eyes crinkled when he smiled back. What kind of inappropriate behavior was this? She hadn’t felt like flirting with anyone since Noah died. Now, after finding her neighbor’s dead body, she was acting as if she were back in high school. She stood up unsteadily, grasping the edge of the countertop. “I don’t feel very good. I’m not sure I can do this right now.”
    “I’ll have to get your statement at some point, Miss December, but I need to go back to the crime scene anyway, check on my team and get rid of the spectators. If you’d rather wait, I can talk to you later.”
    Tears welled up in her eyes. “I can’t believe Ruby’s not here for the protest today. I didn’t agree with her, but I respected her commitment to stopping development on our road. She organized the whole thing. Now she’ll never march again.”
    “It’s not a problem to wait. I’ll come back. It looks like I’ll be in the area.”
    Mae stood in her front yard , watching him drive away. A bluebird flashed by in front of her, its back and wings a vivid streak of lapis. Everything was quiet and peaceful. For the first time in days, Elvis wasn’t barking. Maybe Patrick had done something to settle him down.
    Mae walked into her kitchen. She was alone in the empty house; no one was sanding, painting or caulking. Joe had installed the new granite countertops, sanded and sealed the living room floor. The dining room was still an awful mauve color, but his crew would be repainting it soon. Mae had stripped all the woodwork on the staircase. The beautiful red color of the native cherry shone. She bit her lip. Things last longer than people do . Mae felt on the verge of tears again. She called her mother and left her a message about Ruby.
    At about eight thirty that evening, Mae’s older sister July drove up her driveway. Mae walked out to meet her, enjoying the signs of spring. The early jonquils were blooming, their pale yellow trumpets radiant in the porch light. They walked into the house and July admired the new cabinets and countertops. She wanted to see the newest Porgi pups and picked them up gently, one at a time.
    “There are three females and two males. Is that a good mix?” July asked.
    “Most people seem to like the females, but if the puppy is a gift for a little boy, they like the males. Everything works out.”
    “Mae, did you know there’s a press conference being covered by Channel Four News on your street? The reporters are down by the ditch near Ruby’s house. That’s where you found the body, right? Mama called and told me. I want to see if the news is on TV.”
    A perky brunette reporter interviewed Sheriff Ben Bradley, who said the deceased’s name was Ruby Mead-Allison , that she was a manager for country music artists, and that his department was treating her death as suspicious. The reporter pressed him to say whether Ruby had been murdered, but he declined to comment. An older man stood beside the sheriff. He had salt-and-pepper hair brushed back from a receding hairline and a powerful build with a slight paunch. The sheriff identified him as Detective Wayne Nichols. They would both be talking with anyone who might have information about Ms. Mead-Allison’s death. They urged people in Rosedale, or the middle Tennessee viewing area, to call the tip line if they knew any relevant details. The TV flashed the phone number over and over on a continuous loop.

 
    C hapter Three
March 20
Mae December
    M ae woke with a start. She lay on the couch with the television still on. July had gone home, leaving Mae two sleeping pills next to a glass of water. Mae picked them up and swallowed them with a big gulp of