Three Dog Day (12 page)

“
I remember you.” Her voice was filled with sorrow. “You told me to go to the white man's law. I got life for killing Aarne. I killed him, but you know that man deserved to die.” Her dark eyes glittered.

Wayne drew in a sharp, pained breath at this reminder, stricken with guilt at the knowledge that his advice had led to her present circumstances. He started to tell her that he hadn't known where she was all this time, but there was no point in protesting. He should have tried to locate her decades ago.

“
I'm trying to get you out of here, Jocelyn. I'm going to meet with an attorney.”

“
I've been turned down twice for parole already. You told me that I would only get a short sentence. I've been here for so long.” The words came out in a rush of anguish.

Wayne sagged like a rag doll with its stuffing removed. Guilt was a sword in his gut and it took some time for him to muster up enough composure to speak to her again.

“
I need to ask you some questions, little mother. When you went to the police and confessed to Aarne's murder, where did you tell them his body was? I buried him near Kurt the day you left. Did they find both bodies?”

“
Yes. And they found the knife I killed Aarne with in the house. They could tell Kurt had been killed with a gun. They found the bullets. They asked me a hundred times where the gun was. I never told the law anything. I was afraid they would go after you.”

“
Oh my God! You should have given me up,” Wayne's voice broke. His throat was choked with unshed tears as he said, “Why save my worthless hide?” They looked at each other in silence for a while until Wayne asked, “Little mother, did you even have a trial?”

“
No, I confessed and was sentenced. I didn't get a lawyer either.”

“
What? Damn the bastards.” Wayne was lost in thought for some time. Then he asked, “Did you tell anyone about Kurt's death before the day you killed Aarne?”

“
Yes, Becky Wilshire. She was my neighbor, you remember. She and her husband owned the farm next to ours. I was sitting under the pine trees near Kurt's grave, crying, when she found me. She said I had to call the police. I told her I would, but I wanted time to say goodbye to my son first.”

“
Did you kill Aarne that night?”

“
Yes.” Jocelyn paused, closing her eyes for a moment. She went on in a low voice, one that revealed an undimmed hatred for her abuser. “It was evening when I heard Aarne's truck. He drove in the driveway and yelled for me. As soon as I got close enough, he got out of the car and knocked me down. I screamed that I knew he killed Kurt. He had a knife. He said he was going to cut me. We struggled, he dropped the knife, and I grabbed it. I told him to stop. I held up the knife in my hand, but he just kept coming for me, calling me bad words. Then I stabbed him.” Jocelyn's tiny, withered body was shuddering. Wayne sat down on the end of her bed, causing the guard to step forward. He gestured for her to back off and then put an arm around Jocelyn's thin shoulders.

“
It's going to be okay,” he murmured. She shook her head. Pulling away from him, she lay back on her pillow. “Really, Jocelyn, if you didn't even have an attorney, that could be grounds to toss out your conviction. I'll try to locate Mrs. Wilshire and see if she'll write a letter of support for you. If none of that works, I'll take the gun to the authorities and turn myself in as an accessory.”

“
What good would that do?” Jocelyn's eyes were closing in fatigue. “My life is almost over now. It's like the first time, Wayne. You've come too late to save me.” Her harsh words were softened by a gentle touch on his hand.

Wayne felt as if an arrow had pierced his heart. Stumbling out of the infirmary, he almost bumped into the prison doctor. He forced himself to calm down and take the opportunity to find out about Jocelyn's medical prognosis.

“
How long will Jocelyn, I mean Joci, be in the infirmary, doctor?” Wayne asked.

“
Are you a family member?” The man gave him a searching look.

Wayne nodded. “She's my foster mother. When I was young, she didn't use her Native American name, so I think of her as Jocelyn. But as far as I know, I'm all the family she has left.”

“
I'm sorry to tell you that she's not leaving here.” The doctor shook his head. “She has aggressive lung cancer, stage four. She starts chemo next week.” He touched Wayne's shoulder briefly before walking away.

Wayne Nichols leaned against the cold cement block wall until the guard told him it was time to go. A fierce wind blasted him on the walk to his car, and he almost welcomed the punishing chill as he thought about his next steps. Icy conditions aside, he had to get to Lansing.

M
ae drove herself to meet Tammy at Promises, the bridal and formal dress shop in Rosedale. She was feeling okay, but low on energy. Still, it felt good to get out of the house. Tammy had already picked out four potential wedding gowns with her mom, and said she needed help narrowing them down. Mae could only hope that an awful bridesmaid dress wasn't about to be inflicted upon her. There were several already hanging in her closet.

She called Ben's office and left a phone message. Hopefully he had gotten an ID on the stabbing victim she found in the Little Harpeth River. Until that happened, she knew she would be no help on the case. In fact, she wondered if she could help at all this time. When the victim was her neighbor, Ruby Mead Allison, or her sister's former boyfriend, Tommy Ferris, she'd had lots of ideas for Ben. This person was a complete stranger. Parking in the alley behind the store, she hurried inside. Her car had barely warmed up on the short drive into town on this frosty morning.

Tammy was standing on a raised circular platform in front of the three-way mirror with one hand holding a long, white satin dress against her torso. She looked at Mae's reflection in the mirror and narrowed her eyes.

“
It's sticking out farther already,” she whispered. “Nothing is hanging right on me.”

Mae stood looking at the dress for a moment before saying, “How about showing me the other three you found? Maybe one of those would fit you better.”

Tammy dutifully tried on each gown, her expression more discouraged each time she ascended the circular raised platform. At the end she was pouting. While that pout was known to perform miracles of persuasion with men, it had no effect on Mae.

Mae tilted her head as she gave her best friend the onceover, then glanced around the shop. “I'm sorry to say this, Tammy, but perhaps virginal innocence is not the right look for the over thirty and pregnant.”

“
What did you just say to me?” Tammy's usual soft, breathy voice turned shrill. The shop manager and her assistant looked at each other and moved over to the far side of the store.

Mae bit her lip. Hoping to forestall a Tammy tantrum, she used the sort of soothing tone that usually worked on a nervous puppy.

“
You're always telling me I should play up my best features and downplay the parts I'm not as happy with, right?”

“
Right.” Tammy bit the word off, but seemed to be listening.

“
Well, your skin is glowing and your hair looks healthy. As do your tatas,” Mae gestured to Tammy's bosom.

Tammy gave a surprised snort of laughter. “But?” she asked.

“
Your waistline doesn't need to be emphasized,” Mae told her gently. “Did you pick out anything that's a little more flowing?”

“
Mae, you know I like my clothes fitted.”

“
Maybe a color would be better,” Mae said, as inspiration struck. “You're getting married on Valentine's Day. What about red or pink?” She walked over to a display of event gowns in pinks, fuchsias, and reds. “Look at this one.” Selecting a low-cut, floor length gown in crimson red, she held it up for her friend to see. The store manager inched closer, and Mae smiled at her.

“
That would look amazing on you,” declared the woman, whose nametag read ‘Shop Manager, My name is Karen.' She took the gown from Mae's hands and held it out to Tammy like a peace offering. “It's a size six, which would usually be
way
too big for you.” She gave Mae an almost imperceptible wink. “In another month it will fit perfectly. Clarissa,” she called to her associate, “would you help Miss Tammy in the fitting room? She'll need the hem pinned up on this red one.”

Tammy allowed herself to be spirited away. Mae sank into one of the brocade upholstered slipper chairs and thanked Karen for smoothing the troubled waters.

“
Oh, honey, that was nothing—just doing my job. You should see some of the brides that come in here. They just pitch a fit and fall in it! And she really will be a gorgeous sight in that red gown. We have red satin heels here too. What are you wearing for the wedding? I assume you're her maid of honor, the way you talked her down off the ledge just now.”

“
She's done the same for me many times. We've been friends since sixth grade. I think it's just me standing up with her. It won't be a big wedding.”

“
Still, you'll want something to go with the red, if that's the one she selects.”

Tammy emerged from the fitting room in the dark red dress, wearing a dazzling smile. She ascended the platform and grinned at Mae and Karen.

“
You're brilliant, Mae-Mae. I love this dress! It's a whole lot cheaper than any of the wedding dresses, too. Clarissa said I could have it taken in later and shortened to cocktail length to use again. How about you pick out a black cocktail dress to stand up with me? I can carry white roses and you can carry a red bouquet. It'll be perfect.”

Mae turned to Karen. “I think we have a winner. Could you show me some black cocktail dresses in a size eight? I'm not going to try anything on with this cast, but Tammy can pick whichever one she wants me to wear.”

Tammy's mother, Grace, had been saving money for her daughter's wedding for years. When Tammy called to tell her about the fabulous red dress and how low the price was, she'd insisted on paying for Mae's dress as well. Mae took the phone from Tammy to thank her.

Grace said, “It's my pleasure, sweetheart. Besides, those two dresses combined are nowhere near what I thought I'd be spending. I'm so happy she agreed to marry Patrick. I was starting to think I'd never see her wedding day. Plus, having a baby on the way …. I'm just tickled to death.”

“
I know, and you're going to be a wonderful grandma. It's very exciting. I'll give the phone back to Tammy. Thanks again, Miss Grace.”

As soon as Tammy ended the call, Mae gave her a one-armed hug and said goodbye. “I need to get home and check on the puppies I'm fostering. And I'm going to try and book a band for your reception. We have just a little more than a month to get this put together, you know.”

Tammy widened her eyes. “I know, I'll call you later. Thanks so much, Mae-Mae.” She misted up. Pregnancy was obviously making her friend more emotional than ever.

Mae called Jill Chapman after she got home. Jill was a friend, as well as a contact from her ‘former life.' During her relationship with Noah, she had met lots of people in the music industry, especially after the song he wrote called ‘Miss December' became a big hit. Jill was one of her favorites as a person as well as a performer.

“
Hi, Mae,” Jill answered on the third ring.

“
Hey, Jill. How're you doing?”

“
Besides it being way too cold outside, I'm just fine.”

The two friends chatted about the unusually hard winter this year, and caught up on each other's lives for a while. Finally, Mae got around to the reason for her call, having abided by the southern custom of exchanging pleasantries before getting down to business.

“
Jill, you remember my friend Tammy Rodgers, right?”

“
Who could forget Miss Tammy? We called her Cupid because the men just fell in love with her all the time.”

Mae laughed. “Right. Well, she's finally getting married on Valentine's Day. It's on a Friday this year and the reception is at my house. I was hoping you could bring your band and play for the party if you aren't already booked.”

“
I know I'm in town that weekend. Let me check with the guys and I'll shoot you a text if we can do it. Good talking to you, sweetie. Bye.”

After ending the call, Mae went back to the boarding barn to check on the three foster puppies and her paid boarders—Lulu, Domino, and Maggie Pie. Mae checked the thermometer on the wall. The temperature inside the barn was only forty-eight degrees, but the pit bull puppies were in their usual pile and the Boston terriers were curled up together as well. Lulu seemed fine in her kennel. She checked everyone's water dishes and gave the puppies their second feeding of the day.

They were still having some trouble eating solid food, so Mae added water to their dishes. It rapidly turned the puppy chow to mush. The ASPCA vet estimated the age of the pups at eleven or twelve weeks, so they needed to eat three times a day. They were so funny, shouldering each other away and putting their front feet in the dish. They were making puppy noises too, practicing their tiny growls. After they finished eating, she washed off their faces with the “wet ones” she kept in the barn for just such occasions. Although it was still cold, Mae led them outside for some play time.