Lia Farrell - Mae December 02 - Two Dogs Lie Sleeping by Lia Farrell Page B

Pascoe handed Ben a list of the names of the thirty-five college men living in the Fraternity. “One of these guys is a murderer,” he rasped out.
    “And now he’s struck again,” Ben said. “Ferris’ murder was done to silence him.”
    “Yup,” Pascoe said. “Hope you can find a connection between the guys on this list and the people in the house when Tom Ferris died.”
    “That’s my intention,” Ben said. “You’ve been very helpful. Thanks for all this.”
    “I want to be there when you get him,” Detective Pascoe said. “I could die a happy man if you solve it. I haven’t got long.” He ran a jerky hand through his hair. He had a distant, empty stare.
    “Are you sick, Detective?”
    “Prostate cancer. I’ll be dead before the year is over.”
    “Sorry to hear that, sir.”
    PD nodded his head. “Just get this solved.”
    Driving back down the twisting washboard driveway, Ben felt something starting to give in this case. They had dismissed the Powells as suspects. There was no gun in July and Fred’s house and no blood or gunshot residue had been found on any of Fred Powell’s clothing. Fred’s semi-automatic had been locked in the shooting club when Ferris was killed. The lab was processing the materials, but it looked like he was in the clear.
    Miranda Stackhouse had also been eliminated as a suspect almost immediately. She was on her way to dinner with her husband and friends when Ferris was shot. Wayne had talked with George Stackhouse, thinking he might have resented his wife pouring out thousands of dollars in a fruitless search to find Tom Ferris and get him to sign over the house. However, the man was completely under the thumb of his wife, Miranda. Plus he still felt guilty that her inheritance had paid to start up his business. He figured he owed his wife, and if private detectives made her happy, he was content to pay for them. Both Miranda and her husband had been crossed off the list.
    His remaining suspect, Bethany Cooper, had been in the Booth Showhouse the day before Tom Ferris was killed and again on the day of his murder. They still didn’t know why, but Wayne was pushing on her hard. She would crack soon and tell them the reason she was there, but neither he nor Wayne felt she was a likely killer. They still had to talk with her husband, Dan.
    Thanks to Detective Pascoe, Ben now had a new direction. Somebody in that fraternity fifteen years ago was connected to someone in the Booth Showhouse. Maybe the man was married to one of the designers. A tiny hunter’s grin lifted one corner of Ben’s mouth. He was getting closer. It would be a distinct pleasure to inform Captain Paula of their “solve.”
    Now if he could only get back in to Mae’s good graces. He dialed her number and left a long message. After he’d helped her clean up the puppy messes, they hadn’t discussed the search of her sister’s home. She’d been very short with him all evening, so after Matthew was in bed, Ben went home. Mae wouldn’t give him a good-bye kiss and she hadn’t answered his calls today. Hopefully she and Matty were having fun, he thought, and headed back toward the office. He wanted to be there for the second interview with Bethany Cooper.
     

 
    Chapter Seventeen
July Powell
    A fter cleaning the lake house and starting a load of laundry, July called her mother.
    “Hi, sweetheart.” Suzanne’s warm voice flooded her daughter with remorse.
    “I’m sorry, Mom. I should have called you earlier. How’s Livy doing today?”
    “She’s good. How are you?”
    July closed her eyes. “I’ve been better. Could you do me a favor?”
    “Of course. What do you need?”
    “I’m out at the lake house. Can you pick Nate and Parker up from the Beckwith’s and bring them out here with Livy? I’d need you to go by my place and pack some clothes for them, too. My housekeeper, JoBeth, is there cleaning this morning. I assume Fred’s at work.”
    “No problem. I’ll go get their things