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CHAPTER 1
January 3rd
Mae December
Mae December, thirty years old and, to her mother's dismay, still single, delayed the release of her dogs for a few minutes. She looked out the window toward the barn, amazed to see it was snowing. The Middle Tennessee area was much more likely to get freezing rain than snow, but this morning a blizzard of white blanketed the yard. She released the dogs from the laundry room, pulled on her barn jacket, and let the dogs out. Titan, her male Welsh corgi, sniffed the snow and began to run around barking in excitement, his short legs churning up the fresh snowfall.
Thoreau, the creaky old Rottweiler Mae had inherited when her former fiancé Noah was killed in a tragic automobile accident, stepped stolidly out into the white world. The Tater, her blond corgi puppy, joined Titan, plowing a pathway through the three inches of snow with her little chest. Snow reached the tops of her short legs. Tallulah, her black pug, gave Mae a sideways look that plainly said, "Are you out of your mind, woman?" The pug sat on the top step looking down in a disgruntled manner at the white stuff. Mae nudged her out into the world with the toe of her boot.
After taking care of chores in the barn and feeding her two boarding dogs, Mae ran back to the house. Mae owned a boarding kennel and also bred designer puppies that were half corgi and half pug. She called them porgis and had been successful selling them across the country. Tallulah, the pug who had been the original mother of the porgi litters, was now retired. The small, snow-hating dog had already peed and dashed back into the house. The Rottweiler was also waiting on the stoop when Mae returned from checking on her boarders. She let them in and cast her eyes over her shoulder at the two happy corgis, who showed no sign of wanting to come inside. She would leave them to romp for a while, since they seemed delighted with the rare covering of white fluffy stuff on the grass.
Mae's kitchen phone rang almost as soon as she hung up her barn jacket. It was her neighbor, Annie Butler.
"Good Morning, Annie."
"Hi, Mae. I have a big favor to ask. Jason and I went into Nashville to see one of our friends play at The Bluebird last night. The roads got bad and we decided to stay overnight at his house. Anyway, we're headed back this morning, but I was wondering, could you drop by our place and let the dogs out? There's a key under the mat by the back door."
"Sure, no problem. I'm sure Baby isn't going to want to go out in this storm, but Bear will." Baby was a porgi. The Butlers had purchased Baby from Mae almost a year ago. Bear was the Butler's high-energy black Lab, a rescue dog.
"I was just going to take Titan for a walk. He's crazed with excitement about the snow. I'll take Bear too. She always needs exercise."
"Thanks a lot, Mae. See you soon."
Mae looked outside at the swirling white world and the outdoor thermometer, which read thirty degrees. Calling Tater into the house, she grabbed her gloves and barn jacket, pulled on her boots, clipped a leash on Titan's collar and walked out to the car. Driving down the street with Titan as co-pilot in the front seat, she noticed the snowflakes were becoming thicker. The sky was totally white. When she got to the Butlers, both Baby and Bear were delighted to see her. She let the dogs out, while she refilled their food and water bowls. Baby dashed back into the house when Mae called. The little porgi was shivering. Like her mother, Tallulah, she did not enjoy the cold. She loaded the Butlers' young black Lab, Bear, into the rear cargo area of her Explorer.
"Hey dogs," she told them cheerfully, "we're going for a walk."
By the time they got to her favorite hiking trail along the river, the wind was rising, but Mae thought she and the dogs would warm up soon from walking. The trail ran high above the smoothly flowing river. A tree had fallen, creating a rippling cascade of white foaming bubbles in the dark amber water. Hiking through the high oak and beech forest, Mae remembered how it looked in the spring when the hill was a cascade of trillium, anemones, violets and may apples — a tapestry of pale colors falling sharply down the green ravine.
The wind rose and Mae started walking faster. The dogs kept pace with her. They were having fun darting into the woods to bark at the falling snow before she pulled them back. Her arms were getting tired from pulling on their leashes, so she decided to unhook them.
About twenty minutes later, Mae arrived at the highest point of the trail where a rough staircase, put in by the park service, descended down to river level. The snow was falling so heavily, it was like being inside a Christmas snow globe. She called the dogs. Usually Titan would bark when she called, even if he didn't come right away.
"Bear. Titan, come," Mae yelled, louder now. There was no sign of them and no barking either. She began hiking back down the trail to determine where the dogs had diverged from the main track. As she hurried along, Mae was unhappy to see that the snow had completely covered the main path. Her footprints were filling in already, but twenty minutes later, she still hadn't seen or heard the dogs.
A little farther on, she spotted a spur off the main track going deeper into the woods, away from the river. It was filling in fast, but there were faint indentations in the snow. Mae jogged down the spur. In another fifteen minutes, she saw them, a large dark shadow and a smaller reddish one, darting ahead into the woods. Little monsters.
"Titan, Bear, come here." They barked, racing ahead of her. Mae picked up her pace and turned deeper into the forest, trying to catch up with the runaways. Tall white pines predominated over oak and beech in this part of the woods, their soft forest-green needles encrusted with snow.
A few minutes later, Mae stopped, having nearly run into a tree. Blackberry canes and tall teasels stood among the pines. She'd gotten off the trail. The wind howled, blowing the snow into drifting white swirls. Mae turned in a complete circle, but nothing looked familiar. The dogs were nowhere in sight and she couldn't hear them.
Moving forward slowly, with thorns catching on her jeans, she tried to get her bearings. Heavy cloud cover and swirling snow eclipsed the sun. Mae reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a thin flashlight. Holding it ahead of her and pushing forward through heavy brush, she came out into an open field and saw a building looming up out of the storm. Somehow, she had walked off the field and into a residential area. She sighed in relief.
Her feet hit gravel under about four inches of snow and she walked to the side of the structure. It was a garage with vinyl siding and, to her relief, both dogs were standing by a side door. Taking a deep breath, Mae clipped the dogs' leashes back on. They jumped to lick her face, excited, breathing clouds of mist in the air. The side door was open. Thinking she would just get warmed up for a minute, she ducked inside. The dogs followed, barking.
"Quiet," she said and downed them on the concrete floor. The building was larger than she thought at first, a long open space. There were no windows and it was very dark. Mae felt the wall for a switch and flicked the lights on. She reached in her pocket for her cellphone. It wasn't there. She could see it in her mind's eye, lying on the front passenger seat in the car. Crap.
"Hello," Mae called out hesitantly in the dark cavernous space. "Is anyone here?"
No one answered, but at the sound of her voice the dogs barreled out of their "down, stay" and jumped up against her. Bear practically knocked her off-balance. Mae righted herself; her whole body was cold, right through to the bones. She wasn't going to be able to get any warmer in the unheated building. The large garage seemed menacing. I need to get out of here and find my car. She hurried with the dogs to the side door, nearly tripping over a large pile of copper pipes. They weren't wrapped in any kind of packaging. Mae flipped off the light and emerged into the storm. The wind howled; the dogs jumped with excitement.
There had to be a driveway leading to the garage, and beyond that, a road. If she got to a road, she could figure out where she was. However, after several fruitless minutes walking in each direction for thirty paces and then returning, she realized there was only a gravelly square with the garage in the middle. There was no driveway and no house she could see. Why would someone build a garage in the middle of nowhere?
She knelt down by the dogs. "Bear, home," she said. "Titan, go home." The dogs stared at her and she repeated the command, louder. "Home." Mae loosened her grip on the leashes and slowly Titan started walking toward the forest, away from the garage. The valiant little corgi, with snow up to his shoulders and short legs churning, was breaking a trail with his belly. Could he really get her home? Bear stared up at Mae. She clearly had no idea what the "Home" command meant.
"Go on, Bear. Good boy, Titan."
Over an hour later, after hearing many repeated commands for "Home" and lots of verbal encouragement, the dogs led her out of the forest into a low, brushy bog. Beyond it, Mae saw a gravel road she recognized. She was several miles away from her car, but she knew the way from here. Overwhelmed with gratitude, she knelt down and hugged the excited dogs.
"Good boy, Titan. Good girl, Bear." Mae found herself in tears of cold and confusion. She got to her feet and started walking on legs that felt heavy and stiff. She dug for a tissue in her pocket and wiped her nose. She felt an ache in her throat and lungs. Another half hour of hard walking in what had become a serious white-out and Mae stood beside her car. She loaded the dogs, started the engine and looked at her cellphone. It was out of charge. Figures.
Fifteen minutes later, she walked into her house, having dropped the exhausted young Bear off at the Butlers. Mae poured herself a hot coffee, grabbed a towel and dried Titan's fur. Corgi ears were supposed to stand up straight, but his were drooping with fatigue. She rocked him in her arms. He was asleep in seconds, not even stirring when she laid him in his bed. Still feeling chilled, Mae got a blanket and curled up on the couch. Thoreau came up and sat beside the sofa. His large solid presence was always a comfort.
"I'm so glad I still have you, old sweetie," she said. The big Rottweiler licked her hand. Cold and exhausted, she fell asleep. About an hour later, the house phone rang. Mae sat up and grabbed the phone. "Hello."
"Hi, Mae, it's Ben. Are you okay?"
"Yes, sure, honey. I'm fine."
"You sound funny."
Ben was Mae's handsome boyfriend and the sheriff of Rose County. They had been a couple for nearly a year. They met when Mae turned in a report that her neighbor, Ruby Mead Allison, was missing. Shortly thereafter, Mae stumbled on Ruby's dead body and found herself a suspect in a murder case. It had been a rocky start. Once Ruby Mead Allison's killer had been identified, they were hit by another complication when Ben found out he had a son by his former fiancée, Katie. But they had gotten past all that and now were quite happily in love.
"I'm okay now, but I got lost in the snowstorm today. I'm finally starting to warm up."
"I'm glad you're all right. You should take a hot bath if you're still chilled. Listen, Mae, I don't mean to cut you off, but I wanted you to know that I won't be able to come over until late tonight, if at all. We've got cars in ditches all over the county."
As Sheriff of Rose County, Mae's boyfriend had a lot of responsibilities. And many people in Middle Tennessee were not used to driving in wintry conditions. Still, Mae was disappointed that Ben would be late.
"At least the kids are still out on Christmas break," she said. "The last thing you need to deal with is school buses on these roads."
"You're right, Mae. They were supposed to go back tomorrow, but it looks like they'll get at least one more day off. Maybe two. I've gotta go. Hopefully I'll see you late tonight."
"Be careful out there," she told him. I don't want to lose you like I lost Noah.
"I will. Bye."
CHAPTER 2
January 5th
Dory Clarkson
It had been two days since the big snowstorm, and things were mostly back to normal in Rosedale, Tennessee. Miss Dory Clarkson, Sheriff Ben Bradley's glamorous office manager of a certain age, had arrived at the office early. She was reading the "How to Become a Deputy" section of the Tennessee Sheriff's Manual. Her perfectly polished French manicure gleamed, showing up nicely on her coffee-colored fingers as she flipped quickly through the pages. The temperature in the sheriff's office was a little lower than optimum. Dory reached for the blue suit coat hanging on the back of her chair and put it on.
She felt around in the pocket and pulled out her lipstick and a mirrored compact. After applying another layer, she pursed her lips and looked briefly at her unlined bronze complexion and new shorter hair style. You've still got it, kiddo. The office phone rang and she answered in a distracted tone, saying, "Sheriff's office." Stupid phone was a nuisance, disrupting her studies.
"About damn time somebody answered the phone. Who is this?" The man sounded furious, at the end of his rope.
"This is Miss Dory Clarkson. I'm the office manager. What can I help you with?" Dory used her most soothing voice, trying to defuse the man's frustration. It was awfully early in the morning for this level of drama.
"I'm Logan Yancey. Don't know if you know who I am, but I'm building that multi-million dollar new subdivision up on the ridge, north of town. It's called Pine Lodge Estates."
"Yes, Mr. Yancey. Do you wish to report a crime?"
"I certainly do," he said. "I've had about one hundred thousand dollars' worth of high-end building materials hijacked off my site. The bastards took three fireplace inserts and all the copper piping for four houses in addition to two pallets of Carrera marble for the entryways. I expect you to get someone out here today to investigate."
"Certainly, sir," Dory said.
Sheriff Ben Bradley opened the front door to the office and came in with a blast of cold air. Dory touched her finger to her lips, and he grabbed the door quickly before it could slam behind him. Dory flipped the phone on speaker so Ben could hear the conversation.
"What time can I expect someone here?"
"I'll write up an incident report right now and talk to the sheriff ASAP. What's your phone number please?" He gave it to her and she jotted it down. "Thank you, Mr. Yancey. We'll get back to you right away, sir." Dory rolled her eyes at the sheriff.
"Who was that?" Ben asked, after she ended the call, "and how did he get you to do all that 'yes sir' stuff? You don't give me that level of respect."
"That was Mr. Logan Yancey. He's the builder of that new luxury development called Pine Lodge Estates. He had some building materials ripped off to the tune of about one hundred K. Could you call him back and get the details? I need to get back to my studying." Dory handed Ben the phone number.
"Thought you were supposed to be working here," Ben said. He rubbed the back of his neck and narrowed his eyes, but Dory caught a glimpse of a twinkle in his eye.
"Women, as you know, Sheriff, are capable of doing two things at once." She gave him a pointed stare. The sheriff raised his arms in surrender and walked down the hall to his office. Dory called after him, saying, "And if you'd hired another staff person to help handle the office duties like you promised, we'd have enough help around here."
Only a few minutes later, the phone rang again. Trying not to reveal her exasperation, Dory said, "Rose County Sheriff's office."
"Can I speak to the sheriff?" the adolescent male voice squeaked.
"He's on the line with someone else right now. I'll give him a message. Do you wish to make a complaint or report a crime?"
There was a long pause and at that moment Dory turned her attention away from the deputy manual and came to complete attention. A young person rarely called the office, and if they did, they usually hung up almost immediately, giggling. Dory was on alert and concerned.
"What's your name, honey?"
"It's Ray, but I, well I don't want to tell you my last name."
"That's fine, son. Are you all right? Do you need an officer?"
"No. I clean dog cages after school for a breeder. He says he's a breeder, but I think this place would be called a puppy mill. The mother dogs can't even turn around in the cages and if I don't come over there, they don't always get water and food. I can't come every day. I'm only in ninth grade." His voice cracked again.
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Three Dog Day"
by .
Copyright © 2015 Lia Farrell.
Excerpted by permission of Coffeetown Enterprises, Inc.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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