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CHAPTER 1
July Powell
Turning the iron knob of the Booth Mansion door, July Powell walked in through the back entryway of the historic home. Carefully closing the heavy door so that it wouldn't slam, she kicked off her sandals. It was nearly four-thirty on August 2nd. The first day of public tours to raise money for needy families in Rose County would start tomorrow morning at ten.
She picked up the tote that held her cleaning supplies and began her final dusting and fluffing. She was glad the Junior League design committee had given her this space instead of the nursery, which was her first choice. After twelve years as a rental property, the house hadn't looked too impressive on her initial walk-through. She had re-purposed the dingy back hallway as a cubby room for the kids and the family's dogs. Now it was lively and fun. The fresh caramel wall color contrasted nicely with the gleaming ivory trim on the chair rails and crown moldings. The black lacquer paint on the baseboards enhanced the tumbled travertine floor.
Don December, her father and a professional photographer, had given her several black and white photos of family-owned dogs that he'd taken over the years. She'd created an elegant keepsake board out of ivory fabric and black ribbon, with the photos tucked in behind the ribbons. Hanging above the bench, its seat upholstered in a crisp poppy print, the keepsake board looked like a family heirloom. Working on the mansion carried a lot of prestige, but each designer paid for the transformation of their own space or did it themselves. After three months of work, she hoped the publicity would translate into new clients for Seasons Interiors, her design firm.
Two red towels hung on the hooks above the dog washing station, along with leather leashes and a black dog collar. A wall of built-in cabinets and cubbyholes stood on the opposite side, ready to hold backpacks and sports gear for the family she imagined living here. The large rug had been a lucky find. Its red, black, ivory, and caramel threads tied all the elements of the room together. If you looked closely, what appeared to be a pattern of leopard spots was actually comprised of miniature dog footprints.
She gave a satisfied sigh. I nailed it.
There was a sudden loud bang from upstairs and she flinched. Then she heard a faint sound from the front of the house. She waited, but heard no other noises. Thinking that a picture or mirror must have fallen, she went up the stairs to check the upper level and peek at the nursery one last time before tomorrow's crowds arrived.
Running quickly up the stairs, July remembered the night when she and Tommy were together in this house for the last time. It was after a party and they were both giggly with beer. Climbing the squeaky back stairs, they covered each other's mouths, trying not to laugh.
"Are you sure?" Tommy asked her.
July nodded. They had successfully skirted the spot on the fourth stair with its inevitable creak. Opening the door to his room that night, she saw moonlight falling on the oval braided rug. The dark heart pine floor looked almost black, and the moonlight fell in squares as it sliced through the window mullions. She remembered their closeness as they stepped into the room, hand in hand.
It was their last night together before she and Tommy went back to their respective colleges. Christmas break was almost over. Tommy smoothed the covers on the bed, gestured to her to sit down and then knelt to remove her shoes. She leaned over and pulled him to her. Slowly she began to unbutton his shirt. Running her hands up his chest, she smiled and stood up in the moonlight.
Looking down at him, she pulled her sweater up over her head and shimmied out of her jeans.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered and stood to embrace her. Pulling back, he put his finger to his lips and went to the door. He turned the lock silently and returned to hold her. They swayed together as he hummed Van Morrison's "Moondance" in her ear. It was their favorite song, and he continued to hum it as they made love that night. It was the first time for them both.
July turned the handle on the door to Tommy's old room. It was a nursery now, decorated in soft greens and yellows. She looked across the room at the crib, standing where his bed used to be. The light was almost gone, but there was a dark spot on the floor. July stopped. It was a person — face down and very still.
Hesitantly she called out; "Are you okay?" but there was no answer. Slowly, as if she were wading through waist deep water, she moved toward the dark shape. Kneeling beside him, she touched his face. It was cool but not cold. He was barely breathing. There was blood around his body, darkening the floor. She shook all over and turned away, shuddering, but something drew her eyes back.
"Oh my God, Tommy, is it you?"
With shaking hands, she scrambled for the cellphone in her pocket and dialed 911. Picking up his hand, she held it and began to cry. Counting the minutes until she heard the ambulance siren, she whispered, "Hang in there. Don't you leave me again, Tommy. I have so many questions I need to ask." As his breathing continued to slow, she prayed, "Please God, don't let Tommy die."
His lips parted and his hand reached toward her, then fell back beside his face. Collapsing beside him, she put her ear close to his mouth to hear his whispered message.
CHAPTER 2
Mae December
Usually Mae enjoyed Ben Bradley's intense gaze, but this time he didn't look as if he wanted to ravish her. Oh, no. Sheriff Ben, her very own boyfriend, was staring at her in a distinctly unfriendly way.
"Is that another dog?" His eyebrows went up and the corners of his mouth went down.
As she had tried to explain to Ben many times, her house tended to be a bit over-run with dogs. It was an occupational hazard; she ran a kennel out of her home. She boarded, bathed, and taught dogs to behave better — mostly for other people.
Mae also bred the "porgi," a cross between her male corgi, Titan, and her female pug, Tallulah. In addition, she still had Thoreau, a beautiful old Rottweiler. She became his owner after her former fiancÃ(c), Noah, died in a car accident.
Ben and Mae had been a couple for three months and he was generally quite tolerant of all the commotion. Her handsome, blue-eyed boyfriend served as the sheriff of Rose County. They had met during a murder investigation on Mae's street. A three-pound puppy should not be enough to disturb his equanimity, so she was surprised to see him looking quite thoroughly peeved.
"This is not just another dog," Mae told him, firmly. "This is December's Sweet Potato. She is the future mother of the strawberry blond strain of porgis I intend to breed. I'm going to call her the Tater."
"But she's a corgi," Ben said.
"Yes," Mae answered, duh.
"That means you need a male pug," Ben's look of irritation deepened.
She laughed. "Don't worry. I have a friend who studs out her apricot male pug. I'm not getting another puppy. I wish my vet had told me before her fourth litter, but it's not safe for pugs to have more than three litters. We got lucky on the last one, but it's definitely time for Titan and Tallulah to retire."
"That's good for them. But where did this puppy come from?" He still sounded irked. "I was only gone a few hours. Did you tell me she was coming?"
She felt a faint twinge of guilt, which must have shown on her face.
"You didn't, did you? I knew I wouldn't forget a little detail like that."
Her guilt was evaporating, replaced by annoyance.
"I've been looking for a new female for a while, for my business."
Cradling the puppy in her arms, Mae left the kitchen. Tallulah, her black pug, was in her bed in the laundry room. She needed to meet the Tater right away. Mae put the puppy on the floor. The pug gazed up at Mae with wide eyes and then looked down at the puppy. Her lip curled, and a low growl rumbled in her chest.
Ben followed them into the laundry room.
"Tallulah doesn't look too happy about it either," he pointed out, sounding more cheerful. "Did you forget to tell her that the Tater was coming?"
Mae started to laugh and picked the puppy up before Tallulah became too irate.
"I guess no one else was in the loop on this one." She turned to face him. "I should have told you. I'm sorry. Here, hold her for a minute."
She put the puppy in his arms and stood back. He lifted her near his face and smelled her soft puppy fur. The Tater raised her foxy little face with oversized ears and licked Ben's nose. Looking back at Mae, he grinned and shook his head.
"You're good, December."
"Just need to get the merchandise in the customer's hand, that's all. She's a cutie, isn't she?"
"Oh, yeah, she's cute all right," he sighed. "Is she going to cry all night?"
"She's twelve weeks old, so I hope not."
"Good." He handed the puppy back. "You're going to need your rest."
He was staring at her again — the way she liked this time. He leaned over to kiss her just as the wall phone started to ring. Ben grabbed the phone and handed it to Mae.
"Mae's Place. What? Slow down."
"Who is it?" Ben asked.
"It's my sister. She wants to talk to you."
Ben took the receiver from her hand but held it between both their ears so Mae could hear the conversation.
"July, Ben here. What can I do to help? What charge?" His eyes widened, and she clearly heard her big sister say, "Murder."
"You sit tight," he told her quietly. "We'll be right there."
Mae ran to put the Tater back in her crate, grabbed her cellphone, keys, and purse and followed Ben out the door, her head in a whirl.
"Can I drive your car?" Ben asked. "I don't want to show up over there in a patrol car like I'm looking for a fight."
She nodded and tossed him her keys.
"Where is she?"
"The Mont Blanc Police Station, I guess she was working at the mansion when the police arrived. I wonder why she called you instead of her husband."
"He's at a conference in California. She probably couldn't reach him."
"I think you better call your parents, honey."
Nodding, she hit number three on her speed dial.
"Hi, baby girl!" Daddy's voice boomed.
"Oh, Daddy, I don't know what's going on, but July's at the Mont Blanc Police Station. Can you and Mama meet us there?"
"Why is she there? Has there been an accident?" her father asked, in a much quieter voice.
Mae closed her eyes for a second. "No accident. She said something about a murder."
The line went dead. Mae looked at Ben, driving so calmly. As she looked at her own shaking hands, Mae was grateful for his steady nerves.
"There must be some mix-up. July wouldn't hurt anyone, unless they threatened one of her children."
She hoped for Ben's agreement, but he just shrugged and looked away.
"Are your parents on their way?"
"They'll probably beat us there." Mae gave a nervous laugh. "You know how they are."
Ben knew from experience just how protective the Decembers could be of their girls. Meeting Mae and her family in the middle of a murder investigation the previous spring had demonstrated that pretty clearly.
"You're right," he nodded. "I better step on it."
CHAPTER 3
Mae December
It was almost dark outside, but still warm and muggy, when Mae and Ben walked into the Mont Blanc Police Station. July was sitting in the waiting room. Her face was blotchy, and Mae saw a dark red stain on the tail of her sleeveless shirt. July looked up at them and her face crumpled.
"I'm sorry to drag you here!" she burst out. "They said I could go home, but I'm too shaky to drive."
Ben and Mae glanced at each other. Mae reached out and took her sister's hands, pulling her to her feet. July stood there swaying and shaking her head. There was a commotion as Mama and Daddy came rushing in.
"July, sweetheart, we're here!" Mama announced, unnecessarily. Ben's cheek quivered as he turned his head away and suppressed a smile. All the Decembers were inclined to be dramatic.
Ben walked over to the desk and spoke quietly to the officer behind it. He came back to their little group and addressed Mae's father.
"Don, she's free to go. Let's get her out of here." He looked at July with a puzzled face. "Did you think you were under arrest, July? They were just questioning you." She didn't answer, so he turned back to her father.
"Do you want to take her home and we can follow you?"
"My car's still at the mansion. Can one of you get it for me?" July asked.
Ben nodded. July dug her keys out of her purse and handed them to him.
"I can't go to my house. The kids are there with a sitter. Could you bring my car to our parents' house?"
Mae and Ben got back in her car and she drove to the Booth Mansion. Mae had helped July by providing some ideas for the design of her assigned space; a back hall mudroom July had transformed into a cozy area with hooks for coats and benches to sit on to remove your boots. It was her idea to make it pet friendly by including an area for washing dogs and one for their beds.
The opening of the mansion was tomorrow. Mae thought July's project was finished, so she wondered what July had been doing there. And why the police had been called.
"Ben, do we even know what happened? Did somebody die?"
"Yes, the duty officer said his name was Tom Ferris."
"Tommy? Oh, no!" Mae's throat tightened. She sniffed, wiping her nose.
"Do you know him?" Ben's brows drew together.
"He was July's boyfriend in high school and college. He grew up in that house. I can't believe he was even in town. It's been at least fifteen years since he's set foot around here."
"You never mentioned you knew the owner when you were helping July with ideas or when we went to the Patrons' Party."
"Tommy disappeared right after Christmas break of his sophomore year. She's never wanted to talk about him."
Mae pulled into the service drive behind the mansion. The parking area was deserted, except for one silver rental car parked next to her sister's Suburban and a dark blue sedan.
"Unmarked police car." Ben pointed at the sedan.
Mae parked and Ben got out.
"I'll see you at your folks."
In the rearview mirror, she watched him walk to the driver's side of the unmarked car. He bent down with an enquiring tilt to his head, engaging whoever sat inside in conversation.
Mae's cellphone rang before she was halfway to her parents' house.
"Mae, it's me," Ben said. "Whatever happened over here is being kept real quiet. That's why the unmarked car. They've closed the house to all designers, but they aren't telling anyone why. July actually found Tom Ferris dying."
"The poor thing! Finding Tommy after all these years. How horrible for her. No wonder she wasn't saying much."
"For a woman in your family, it's out of character for sure. I don't have Matthew tonight, so I'll see you at your Mom and Dad's in a few minutes."
Matthew was Ben's four-year-old son. He hadn't known that the boy existed until several months ago, when he was in the middle of the murder case that brought Mae and him together. He had been engaged to Matthew's mother, Katie Hudson, at one time, but she had eloped with someone else. She had neglected to tell Ben he had a son until after her divorce. Katie had recently returned to Rosedale and they shared custody. Ben usually had Matthew for a mid-week sleepover one week and then for the weekend the following week.
"Mae, are you still there?"
Ben's voice startled her out of thinking about Matthew and his mother, the disloyal Katie.
"I'm here. Wait, how did Tommy die? Why did July think it was murder?"
Ben took a deep breath before he spoke.
"It sounds like someone shot him, although I guess it could have been a suicide. We don't know yet. Drive carefully, babe, okay? We'll get to the bottom of this."
Mae said good-bye and set her phone on the seat.
CHAPTER 4
Mae December
Driving to her parents' place from the station, Mae recalled the day last spring when July told them she'd landed the Showhouse project for the Booth Mansion. It had been Mae's thirtieth birthday in May. Mama didn't try to name both her girls after their birth months; it just happened. Mae's given name was Maeve Malone December. July couldn't pronounce it and called her baby sister Mae. July was christened Julia Grace, but her parents began calling her July after she renamed her baby sister, and it just stuck.
Sunday, May 20th had been so warm, it felt like high summer. Mae looked out her kitchen window and even the air glowed green. She and Ben had been invited to her parents' for dinner. She called the dogs and went outside with her garden scissors to cut a bouquet of irises for Mama's table. She had been mentally reviewing her wardrobe options when she saw Ben's car coming up the driveway.
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Two Dogs Lie Sleeping"
by .
Copyright © 2014 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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