The Case of the Prescient Poodle

by B R Snow

  “My sentiments exactly. So, you aren’t interested in betting on them?”

  “Actually, I’d like to see the roosters turn their blades on the people who’ve trained them to fight.”

  “Yeah, I’d pay to see that,” Jennifer said, finally relaxing a bit. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “No, I’m good. Thanks. You’re having a party today?”

  “No, but I’m sure my houseguests are,” she said, glancing out at the pool. “It’s what they do when they’re down here.”

  “Where are they from?” I said, also glancing outside.

  “All over the place,” Jennifer said. “They work for my father. At least they did.”

  My interest piqued, I sat up straighter in my chair.

  “They work for his import-export company?”

  “They do,” she said. “I’m not exactly sure what all of them do, but the couple on the double recliner handles all the clothing and fabric lines.”

  “Interesting work,” I said, nodding.

  “I guess,” she said, shrugging. “If you call going into poor, remote areas of the world offering natives a dollar for something you’re going to sell for a hundred in the States interesting.”

  “Can I ask you another question?”

  “Is it as good as the one about cockfighting?”

  “Probably not,” I said, grinning. “I was just wondering about all the cocaine.”

  “Yes, so were the police,” Jennifer said. “They said there were dozens of spots where it had collected on the surface of the water.”

  “There were,” I said, then paused.

  “Go ahead and ask,” Jennifer said, calmly waiting for me to continue.

  “Okay. Did you know your father was involved in drug smuggling?”

  “Smuggling? Maybe it was only for his personal use,” she said, turning coy.

  “And maybe he was actually a bird lover.”

  “Touché,” she said, nodding. “No, I wasn’t aware he was smuggling coke. But I can’t say that I’m surprised.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’d overheard him and my mom a few times talking about their cash flow problems,” Jennifer said. “Which I attributed to him going through an extended losing streak.”

  “So, he bet on other things besides cockfighting?”

  “I once watched my father win ten thousand dollars betting on what time it was,” Jennifer said.

  “How the heck did he do that?”

  “He cheated.”

  “He snuck a peek at his watch?”

  “No, he had me do it,” she said, shrugging. “Then I used hand signals.”

  “And you got away with it?” I said, frowning.

  “I was nine. And like my father said, who would ever suspect a nine-year-old girl?” she said, shrugging. “We started drifting apart soon after that.”

  “That’s so sad,” I whispered. “What do you do for work?”

  “Not much at the moment,” she said. “But you’re looking at the new owner of Jensen International. Up until yesterday, my job has been to live here and take care of the house. And serve as hostess when that horde of vultures out by the pool descends every few months.”

  “Are you planning on running the company?”

  “I guess that depends on what the police decide to do with me.”

  “The police don’t think the explosion was an accident?”

  “Let’s say they’re less than convinced that is was.”

  “And they think you might have killed your parents?”

  “The estranged daughter of a wealthy couple who’s the sole heir to their fortune?” Jennifer said, managing a small laugh. “I’m sure you can put two and two together.”

  “Math’s never been one of my strong points,” I said. “But I get what you’re saying. You were estranged from both your parents?”

  “I was.”

  “What was your mom like?”

  “Mostly, absent,” Jennifer said, then glanced at the sliding doors. “Maybe you should have brought Polly with you today.”

  “Why’s that?” I said, confused.

  “Because we probably would have had some advance notice that the cops were on their way,” Jennifer said, getting to her feet. “Good morning, Detective Renfro.”

  Chapter 8

  After chatting briefly with Detective Renfro, who was initially surprised to see me, I said my goodbyes and headed outside. My plan to have another talk with the couple sitting around the pool was thwarted when I realized they were both taking a nap. I imagine a twelve-pack of Caybrew and a joint the size of an egg roll before nine can put a crimp in your plans for a non-stop, all-day rage.

  I drove to the animal rescue center we had established on the outskirts of Georgetown and parked in front. Josie had already arrived and was chatting with Teresa, the woman who managed the facility. I gave both of them a hug, then Teresa grabbed my left hand and examined the engagement ring.

  “It’s gorgeous,” she said, giving me another hug. “Congratulations.”

  “Thanks,” I said, beaming at the ring.

  “Did you guys set a date yet?” Teresa said.

  “No, but it will probably be sometime in the summer,” I said. “If my mother has anything to say about it.”

  “And she does,” Josie said, laughing. “Did you speak with the daughter?”

  “I did.”

  “What’s she like?” Josie said.

  “She’s nice,” I said, frowning. “But she doesn’t seem to be grieving. At least, not in any way I’d recognize.”

  “She wasn’t close to her parents?” Josie said.

  “No, not at all. And Detective Renfro popped in just before I left her place,” I said. “Apparently, the cops don’t think the explosion was an accident.”

  “That makes sense,” Josie said, shrugging. “We don’t either. Do the cops think she might have been behind it.”

  “She seems to think so,” I said. “But I couldn’t get anything out of Detective Renfro.”

  “Oh, don’t you just hate when that happens,” Josie said, laughing.

  “Yeah,” I said, grinning. “He’s such a by the book kind of guy.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll wear him down,” Teresa said.

  “What did the daughter have to say about the dog?” Josie said.

  “She doesn’t want anything to do with it,” I said.

  “You want to bring her over here?” Teresa said.

  “No, I think we’ll keep her at the house for a few days,” I said. “Jennifer is convinced that the dog has some sort of psychic power. And she said it freaks her out having her around.”

  “Really?” Josie said.

  I spent a few minutes giving them the recap of my conversation with Jennifer then both Josie and Teresa frowned.

  “Well, we’re used to dogs anticipating what’s going on or how we’re feeling,” Josie said.

  “Yeah, but that’s just part of the normal bond dogs develop with the people they live with, right?” I said. “Knowing that a coconut is about to fall on somebody’s head or jumping off a boat just before it blows up is something else altogether.”

  “It does seem odd,” Teresa said. “So, what are you going to do with the dog?”

  “Try to find her a good home, I guess,” I said. “She’s a great dog. It shouldn’t be that hard to find someone who’ll take good care of her.”

  “I’m sure the dog will let us know when she meets them,” Josie said.

  “Don’t start,” I said, shaking my head.

  “Or maybe we can set her up with her own 900 number,” Josie said. “The Psychic Dog Hotline. I wonder if she’s any good at predicting football. We’d make a fortune.”

  “Oh, thanks for the reminder,” I said, nodding. “Jennifer said her father was an inveterate gambler. And he loved betting on cockfights.”

  “That’s disgusting,” Teresa said. “I detest that activity.”

  “That’s
right, you grew up around here,” I said. “You’re familiar with it?”

  “I am,” Teresa said. “My ex-husband used to go all the time.”

  “Do you know where it takes place?” I said.

  “No, I don’t. Why do you ask?” Teresa said.

  “I’m just curious,” I said, deflecting.

  Josie snorted.

  “Shut it.”

  “You want to go to a cockfight?” Josie said.

  “Not unless we absolutely have to,” I said. “But it would be good to know where it is just in case.”

  “Just in case why?” Josie said, staring at me.

  “Horrible sentence structure.”

  “Don’t change the subject,” Josie said. “Answer the question.”

  “It would be good to know where it takes place just in case we wanted to take a look at the people who are there,” I said.

  “You think the cockfighting is somehow connected to that yacht blowing up?” Josie said.

  “Maybe,” I said, letting the idea marinate. “But I’m convinced it wasn’t an accident. And since there were cocaine and roosters on the boat, it’s only logical to assume that we might find cocaine dealers at the cockfight. And if we did, I think we could be close to figuring out who blew the boat up.” I noticed the strange look Teresa was giving me. “What?”

  “I was just wondering what it’s like living with your brain,” Teresa said.

  “Most days it’s like a runaway train on a circular track,” I said, shrugging.

  “And on some days, it just disappears down a long, dark tunnel,” Josie said.

  “But it always leaves the station, right?” Teresa said, laughing.

  “Sadly, yes,” I said.

  Chapter 9

  We were sitting at the bar sipping wine while we waited for the rest of our group and intermittently chatting with Rocco, who was doing his best to keep up with the three-deep crowd at the bar and the drink orders arriving from the packed dining room. Tony, one of the other bartenders who worked at C’s Cayman, came back to the bar carrying two cases of beer and quickly began restocking a cooler. When he finished, he headed off again. Rocco finally got a chance to catch his breath, and he approached and refilled our glasses.

  “What the heck is going on?” I said.

  “A cruise ship came in today,” Rocco said, taking a long swig of water then wiping sweat from his forehead. “And the word keeps spreading about how good the food is here.”

  “Thanks to all the concierges on the boats, right?” Josie said.

  “Hey, it never hurts to feed and water the people who have the power to refer,” Rocco said, laughing. “Who are you waiting for?”

  “Abby and Victor Rollins. And my mom. Chef Claire said she was going to join us if she had a few minutes, but I don’t like her chances,” I said. “Man, I can’t believe how busy it is.”

  “Hold that thought,” Rocco said, heading to the other end of the bar.

  “I love this place,” Josie said, glancing around. “I’m so glad we opened it.”

  “Me too,” I said, waving at Abby and Victor as they came through the front door. “Hi, guys.”

  “Hey,” Victor said, taking in the crowd. “Wow, when Abby said it was a popular place, I had no idea this was what she was talking about.”

  “Do you know what the special is tonight?” Abby said, giving both of us hugs.

  “I think it’s the Mahi red curry,” Josie said.

  The front door opened again, and my mother entered and made her way toward us.

  “A cruise ship must have landed today,” she said as she shook hands with Abby and Victor then hugged us. “So much for a quiet business meeting.”

  My mother waved to our hostess who gestured for us to follow her to a table set for six in a back corner of the dining room. She passed out menus then slowly worked her way back through the crowd.

  “I got a call from one of our largest franchises today,” Victor said. “And she said she can’t keep the toys in stock. Apparently, word of mouth is driving people to her store in droves.”

  “That’s great,” I said, without much enthusiasm.

  “Geez, Suzy,” Victor said, laughing. “Dial down the excitement.”

  “Yeah, sorry,” I said, shrugging.

  “What on earth is the matter?” Victor said.

  “That’s what we want to talk with you about,” I said.

  Our server approached to take our drink orders.

  “Hi, Bobbie,” I said. “Busy night, huh?”

  “It’s insane,” she said, smiling. “Oh, and Chef Claire said you should just get started. She’s swamped at the moment.”

  “Okay,” I said, nodding. “She’s already let us know what she wants to do.”

  Victor and Abby stared at me, confused, and as soon as Bobbie departed, I glanced back and forth at them.

  “We need to talk about Wags.”

  “What about it?” Victor said.

  “We want to sell it,” I said as a simple statement of fact.

  “Sell it?” Abby said, stunned. “Why on earth would you want to do that?”

  “Because we don’t enjoy what we’re doing,” Josie said.

  “Have I done something to upset you?” Abby said.

  “No, it’s nothing like that,” I said, patting her hand. “You’re doing a fantastic job, and we love working with you. But we have no business being in the corporate world. And Wags deserves to have a board of directors fully committed to its growth and development.”

  “I’m sure we can figure out a way to make it work for you,” Abby said. “I know you hate dealing with the finance side. And all the meetings.”

  “See, that’s just it,” I said. “That’s the core business of the board. And the more time we spend doing it, the more we understand just how important all that stuff is. But I’m already dreading it. And I’m positive it’s only going to get worse. It’s just not fair to you or the company.”

  “I see,” Abby whispered. “Wow, this is a total shock.”

  “It certainly is,” Victor said, rubbing his forehead. “Do you have any idea how much money you’ll be leaving on the table?”

  “We do,” my mother said. “But I’m sure we can figure out a way to minimize the pain.”

  Victor grinned at my mother.

  “Do you now?” he said, laughing. “Let me guess. You want me to buy it, right?”

  “Nothing gets past you, Victor,” I said, feeling like a thousand-pound weight was beginning to lift. “You’re obviously our preferred buyer.”

  “But we imagine that Dog World would be very interested as well,” my mother said with a casual shrug.

  I knew my mother was floating that possibility just to get Victor’s attention. It did.

  “You haven’t been talking with them, have you?” he said, frowning.

  “Not yet,” my mother said, beaming at him. “So far, the only person we’ve spoken to is Gerald.”

  “Gerald? Who’s Gerald?” Victor said.

  Abby laughed.

  “You are something else, Mrs. C.,” she said, shaking her head.

  “What am I missing?” Victor said.

  “Gerald is one of Mrs. C.’s buddies down here,” Abby said. “Who just happens to be the Finance Minister.”

  “The Cayman Finance Minister wants to buy a dog toy company?” Victor said, confused.

  “No, he just has some interesting ideas about how we should sell it,” my mother said, glancing up at our server who returned carrying a tray of drinks. “Thanks, Bobbie.” She took a sip of wine, then folded her hands on the table and sat back in her chair.

  “Okay, now I get it,” Victor said, nodding. “Bringing in the Finance Minister to help you broker the deal is a bit over the top, but I’ll play. Let’s hear it.”

  “Fifteen million. And a hundred thousand shares of Middleton stock,” I said.

  “Ouch,” Victor said. “Gerald’s been busy.”

  “He’s very g
ood at what he does,” my mother said.

  “Yes, I imagine he is,” Victor said. “Is that all?”

  “No,” I said. “You need to agree to a five-year contract for Abby as CEO.”

  “That won’t be a problem,” Victor said, squeezing Abby’s hand. “Abby isn’t going anywhere. And we’d be crazy not to have her running it.”

  “Perfect,” I said. “And would you still plan on selling the food products Chef Claire has developed?”

  “Of course,” Victor said. “The initial tests have been off the charts.”

  “Then we’d like you to keep Chef Claire on retainer for the next five years as well. She’ll keep developing new ideas and giving them to Abby.”

  “I don’t have a problem with that,” Victor said, shrugging as he took a sip of his drink. Then he rattled his ice cubes and grinned at me.

  “Don’t start,” I said, laughing. “So, what do you think?”

  “Are you kidding?” Victor said. “I think you’re all nuts. No offense, but walking away from this thing is one of the dumbest ideas I’ve heard in years.” He paused to take another sip and collect his thoughts. “But I should warn you that my board loves to negotiate and never accepts the initial asking price.” He chuckled. “It makes them feel like they’re earning their keep.”

  “Then tell your board we want twenty million and two hundred thousand shares,” my mother said.

  “You are something else,” he said, laughing. “You know, we’re about to have a vacant seat on our board. How would you like me to recommend you? You’d be great.”

  “That’s very sweet of you, Victor,” my mother said, beaming at him. “And normally I’d be very interested. But I’ll have to pass. I’m going to be extremely busy the next several months.”

  “Doing what?” Victor said, raising an eyebrow.

  “Why, planning a wedding, of course.”

  Chapter 10

  After calling his office, I tracked Detective Renfro down the next morning eating breakfast at a funky beachfront joint not far from our place. He was halfway through his omelet when he noticed me trudging through the sand toward him, and, this time, didn’t seem at all surprised to see me. He set his knife and fork down then raised his coffee mug and took a sip as he gestured at the empty seat on the other side of the two-seater table.