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

body. The killer must have known the police would recover the bullet, but without the gun, it would be virtually impossible to find the killer. There were hundreds, probably thousands of guns in Rose County that used the same type of ammunition.
    Ben called Detective Nichols , who was on his way to meet with July. He picked up but said he didn’t have much time. He was driving into their neighborhood.
    “I got the preliminary ballistics report,” Ben told him, “The perp used a Winchester 158 grain bullet, most likely for a Smith and Wesson revolver or a Beretta.”
    “That’s the snub-nosed small one,” Wayne said. “I’ve seen the silver and the black models. They’re light and small enough to fit in a coat pocket, or a purse.”
    Ben said nothing, remembering July’s devastated face.
    “Have John’s deputies gone through the trash in the neighborhood in case the perp disposed of the gun?” Wayne asked.
    “Yes, no luck. And that gun’s about as common as wild tattoos in East Nashville.”
    “Later,” Wayne said and was gone.
     
    Ben walked out to the front office.
    “Yes?” Dory said, looking up at him. Her phone rang. “I need to get this,” she said and picked up the tip line phone. He stood there for a moment, thinking about the bullet and wondering how he might trace it back to the gun, when Dory held up one finger. It was her signal for Ben to stand by her desk. Far be it from Ben to ignore Dory’s non-verbal commands. He waited.
    “Thank you, Mrs. Anderson,” she said, “I will certainly tell Sheriff Bradley immediately. This will be a big help. Thank you very much for calling.”
    Dory hung up the phone, turned to Ben and said, “That was Mrs. Laurel Anderson. She’s eighty-three years old and lives near the Booth Mansion. She was walking her terrier at the back of the grounds around five-forty last night when she caught sight of a man standing in the house by the French doors that lead out to the side yard. He stepped through the doors, closed them and the full-length shutters across them. He also latched the two shutter dogs.”
    “Whoa, back up a minute here. First off, get Deputy Phelps out to the mansion right away to see if there’re any footprints leading away from that patio. I trust you told the deputies about the case already?”
    She just sighed and rolled her eyes. “Do you really need to ask?”
    “The Mont Blanc crime scene people looked all around the house last night. They didn’t notice any footprints, but it was dark. George needs to start doing the house-to-house check also.”
    “I already buzzed George. He’s calling back.”
    “Did you get Mrs. Anderson’s phone number?” Dory raised her eyes heavenward.
    “Okay, okay, sorry. I’ll call her back. I need to know whether Tom Ferris had a will . And Dory, what the heck are shutter dogs?”
    Dory raised her imperious first finger. “One thing at a time there, boss man,” she said as the phone buzzed. It was George and she told him to get out to the Booth Mansion and check the area by the French doors for footprints.
    “Start the house-to-house right after that,” she told him.
    Ben looked out the window. They’d had lots of rain in the past few days. Finding any footprints would be a long shot in the thick, freshly mulched landscape around the Mansion.
    “Oh, and George, take some fingerprint powder with you and dust the shutter dogs on the French doors for prints.”
    Ben was chagrined that Dory would think about fingerprints. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. Sometimes Ben wondered if Dory might make a better sheriff than he did. It was also embarrassing that his not-too-swift deputy apparently knew what the hell shutter dogs were. Dory wrote down a phone number and handed him the slip of paper.
    “After you’ve finished talking to Mrs. Anderson, we will discuss the lamentable gaps in your education that have resulted in you not knowing about shutter dogs .” She gave Ben an intimidating