Lia Farrell - Mae December 02 - Two Dogs Lie Sleeping by Lia Farrell Read Free Book Online Page A

instincts. I’ll see you back at the office.”
     
    Driving back, Wayne thought about that tiny slice of time before July denied Ferris had spoken to her. He would bet his last dollar there was unfinished business between July Powell and the victim. And that Tom Ferris had said something to his old girlfriend.
    The phone rang.
    “Wayne,” it was Ben’s voice , “are you on your way back?”
    “We just finished up with July Powell. I should be there in about twenty.”
    “Okay. I wanted you to know that I talked with the Chief of Investigations in Nashville, a Captain Paula Crawley. She made it clear that I can’t interview anyone connected with the Ferris case until we have someone in custody. I’ve been thinking about some way to get around her rules and still help with the investigation. She said she’d report me to IA if I got into it.” Ben sighed. “I hate this. Apparently, I can look at reports, including yours. You can update me daily and I can talk with anyone who calls on the tip line. She wants you to call her once a week.”
    Wayne didn’t say anything, just gave a brief sigh.
    “Anyway, Dory found some information for us. There was a rental car parked at the Booth Mansion the night Tom Ferris was shot. Ferris rented it from Enterprise. They had a cellphone number, a driver’s license number and an address, a P.O. Box in Colorado. When the Mont Blanc police went through his effects, there was a volunteer firefighter’s card in his wallet, plus a couple of check stubs from a resort in Telluride.”
    “I was hoping you were going to find a hotel confirmation. One of our problems is that we don’t know how long he’d been in town.”
    “Right. Here’s the good news. Enterprise will have a record of where they picked him up, the time and the date. George is there now, checking on the times. When he gets back here I’m going to have him start going over Ferris’ cellphone outgoing and incoming calls. It’ll take a while, but we could get some leads from the local usage details.”
    “Excellent. You were right, by the way. I don’t get the feeling that July was the shooter, but there’s still something she isn’t telling us.”
    “There always is,” he heard Ben say.

 
    Chapter Nine
Sheriff Ben Bradley
    B en Bradley and Detective Wayne Nichols had looked at the video from the closed circuit cameras a hundred times. They saw July Powell coming in through the backdoor of the house. They could see that the parking lot contained her car—a late model black Chevy Suburban—a green Mini Cooper and a silver Nissan Altima, the car Tom Ferris had rented. They could even see the person who left the front door of the Booth Showhouse at 5:58 p.m. yesterday. That individual was wearing jeans, tennis shoes, and a lightweight rain jacket with the hood up—although it wasn’t raining. They couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman, much less identify them.
    “Let’s get Dory in here,” Wayne suggested.
    “Okay,” Ben agreed, knowing it was impossible to evade his office parents when they stuck together.
    Dory walked in and sat down. Ben replayed the video and looked at her questioningly.
    “Man or woman?” Wayne asked her.
    “That’s a woman, of course. Is that all you boys needed?”
    “Why do you say that?” Ben tried to keep the frustration out of his voice. “Wayne and I couldn’t tell.”
    “The thighs.” At their expressions, she added, “She’s thin, but she has some weight to the outside of her thighs, her saddlebags. Men don’t carry extra weight there.”
    “How old?” Wayne piped up.
    “She moves well, almost like a dancer, but I’d say in her late thirties.”
    They had wasted two hours, Ben thought, feeling distinctly annoyed with himself.
    “What’s your certainty level?” His detective was looking at Dory with obvious admiration.
    “About eighty-five percent .” She smiled up at Wayne Nichols.
    Ben cleared his throat, “Do you two mind not having a meeting