The Case of the Prescient Poodle

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The Case of the Prescient Poodle Page 6

by B R Snow


  “Good morning, Suzy,” he said, refocusing on his food. “Have you had breakfast yet?”

  “I have,” I said, giving his omelet a loving stare. “What’s good here? I’ve driven by this place a hundred times but have never eaten here.”

  “It’s all good,” Detective Renfro said, stacking a chunk of the omelet onto a piece of flatbread. He gazed out at the ocean as he chewed his food. “It’s going to be warm today.”

  “It is,” I said, trying to decide if I was still hungry as a server approached. “Hi,” I said to her. “Can I please get some coffee?”

  “Of course,” she said, smiling. “Do you need anything else, Detective?”

  “No, I’m good. Thanks, Shandra.”

  The server poured my coffee then turned to leave but stopped when she heard my voice.

  “Oh, and maybe I’ll have an order of fruit,” I said, quickly scanning the menu.

  “Certainly,” the server said, again starting to walk away.

  “And an order of the flatbread. It looks delicious,” I said.

  “You know, if you add a couple of eggs, I can just bring you the breakfast special. It would save you a couple bucks,” the server said as she topped off Detective Renfro’s mug.

  “Let’s do that,” I said, nodding. “Eggs over easy, please.”

  “You got it,” she said, pausing a few seconds just to make sure I was done ordering before she headed off.

  “More food for less money,” I said. “You gotta love that.”

  “I thought you said you’d already eaten,” Detective Renfro said.

  “Ocean air always makes me hungry,” I said, removing my sunglasses.

  “Is that what I think it is?” he said, nodding at my engagement ring.

  “It is,” I said, holding my hand out.

  “Congratulations,” Detective Renfro said. “I’m very happy for you.”

  “He’s a great guy,” I said, beaming.

  “And obviously very brave.”

  “Funny.”

  “So, what brings you here this morning?” he said, polishing off the last of his omelet.

  “Oh, I was just in the neighborhood,” I said, glancing out at the water. “And I thought I saw your car.”

  “It’s amazing that you can pick my police car out of the dozen or so that are driving around,” he said. “Especially since they’re assigned randomly at the station.”

  “Then I guess I just got lucky,” I said, flashing him a big smile.

  “You want to talk about Jennifer Jensen, don’t you?”

  “Well, since you brought her up, sure,” I said, splashing a bit of milk into my coffee.

  “Suzy, what’s it going to take before you believe me when I tell you that investigations like this are really none of your business?”

  “Trick question, right?”

  Detective Renfro exhaled loudly and stared out at a windsurfer who was expertly cutting in and out of the light chop not far from shore.

  “C’mon, Detective,” I said. “We’re just talking. It’s not like I’m planning to make an arrest. But I don’t think Jennifer killed her parents.”

  “I’ll make sure to let everyone on the force know that,” the detective said, continuing to work his way through what was left of his breakfast. “It should save us a lot of time.”

  “She was estranged from them, but she’s not a killer,” I said.

  “She’s going to inherit a fortune.”

  “That doesn’t make her a killer,” I said.

  “Maybe.”

  “You feel the same way, don’t you?”

  “Like I just said, it’s none of your business. I can’t talk about it. It’s an ongoing investigation,” he said, shaking his head before taking a sip of coffee.

  “Then how about I just ask you some yes-no questions? That way, you’re really not talking about it. You’re merely responding.”

  “No.”

  “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  Despite being annoyed, the detective laughed.

  “If I agree to humor you, will that shut you up?”

  “I doubt it, but it’s probably worth a shot.”

  Detective Renfro sat back in his chair and motioned for me to proceed.

  “Cool,” I said, leaning forward. “You don’t believe the explosion was an accident, do you?”

  “No.”

  “And Jennifer Jensen is your number one suspect, right?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Maybe?”

  “That’s the best I can do at the moment,” Detective Renfro said.

  “That’s okay, I can work with that,” I said, sitting back as the server approached with my food. “Thanks. It looks great.”

  The server topped off both our coffees then departed. I tore off a piece of the flatbread, broke one of the eggs with it, then dredged it through the yoke. I savored the bite as I formulated my next question.

  “Where are you guys at with the connection between the cocaine and the cockfights?”

  “What makes you think there’s a connection?” he said, frowning.

  “It’s a logical assumption,” I said with a shrug. “This flatbread is amazing. Do they make it onsite?”

  “I’m sure they do,” the detective said. “Why is that a logical assumption?”

  “Well, since this guy Jensen was an inveterate gambler with cash flow problems, my guess is that he must have owed money to some local people,” I said, tossing my line in the water to see if I got a nibble.

  “You did have a nice, long chat with the daughter, didn’t you?”

  “What can I say?” I said, smiling at him. “A lot of people like talking to me.”

  “I wonder what their secret is.”

  “It’s a little early for snarky, Detective,” I said, making a face at him. “Now, about the possible connection between the coke and the cockfighting.”

  “What about it?”

  “How am I doing so far?”

  “Keep talking,” Detective Renfro said, nodding.

  “Okay, I’m on the right track. So, if Jensen loved betting on cockfights as much as his daughter says, I can’t help but wonder if at least one of the people he owed money to might be someone he was betting with at the local cockfighting events.”

  “You can’t help but wonder?” the detective said, raising an eyebrow at me.

  “It’s what I do,” I said, shrugging. “And judging by what we saw floating on the surface after the explosion, it’s pretty clear that Jensen was bringing in a whole lot of coke.”

  “He was.”

  “Was he already on your radar as a drug smuggler?”

  “He was not.”

  “Were you aware that he had a gambling problem?”

  “Why would we know that?”

  “Yeah, I get that,” I said, frowning. “Especially since you guys let this barbaric cockfighting nonsense continue unabated. How would you know?”

  Detective Renfro scowled but said nothing.

  “And since cockfighting has been linked with drug dealers for a long time, I don’t think it’s much of a stretch to connect the two in this case. You know, two underworld activities coming together.”

  “Underworld?”

  “Yeah, you know what I mean,” I said, nodding. “Shady characters lurking in dark alleys, smoky backroom deals, stuff like that. It’s not like Jensen would be unloading big bundles of cocaine in front of the government office buildings.”

  Detective Renfro flinched, and his eyes flared briefly, but long enough for me to catch it.

  “What is it?” I said, leaning forward. “I just touched a nerve.”

  “No, you didn’t,” he said, glancing out at the ocean. “I just got a bit of a chill, that’s all.”

  “It’s 85 and climbing, Detective,” I said, frowning at him. “You reacted when I mentioned the government offices. You think someone from the government might be involved?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talki
ng about,” Detective Renfro said. “And I really should get going.”

  I polished off the last of my eggs and flatbread and went to work on my fruit. I glanced over at him as I munched on a slice of mango.

  “Relax, Detective,” I said, wiping my mouth. “We’re just talking here.”

  “Not anymore,” he said, reaching for his wallet.

  “No, breakfast is on me,” I said, sliding another slice of mango into my mouth. “It’s the least I can do.”

  “Please, try not to do more, Suzy,” he said, getting to his feet. “Thanks for breakfast. I imagine I’ll be seeing you around.”

  “I’m looking forward to it, Detective.”

  “I’m glad one of us is.”

  “Harsh,” I said, laughing.

  He shook his head and waved as he turned and headed toward his car. I watched him drive off, then stared out at the water as several thoughts began to churn and collide. I paid the bill, checked my watch, and decided that Gerald had probably arrived at his office by now.

  Chapter 11

  The security guard at the front desk of the Government Administration Building stared at my passport photo then glanced up at me and smiled. I frowned when I realized he recognized me from my last visit about a year ago.

  “You’re Gerald’s friend, right? Welcome back,” he said, handing me a visitor’s badge. “How’s that sunburn doing?”

  “Just peachy, thanks,” I said, making a beeline for the elevator that would take me to the fifth floor.

  When the elevator came to a stop, I headed down the hall to Gerald’s office. His executive assistant was sitting at her desk, and she recognized me immediately. She gave me the goofy grin I’d expected, and I approached the desk tentatively and waited for her to speak first.

  “Suzy, right?” she said, cocking her head.

  “That’s me,” I said, forcing a smile. “It’s nice to see you again.”

  “Yes, it’s been too long,” she said, grinning. “Especially since your last visit was so…memorable.”

  I waited out her laughter, quietly fuming. The last time, in fact, the only time I’d visited Gerald in his office I was dealing with the worst sunburn I’d ever gotten. And to help mitigate the pain, I’d been wearing loose-fitting clothing including a pair of baggy shorts that happened to fall around my ankles when I got up from the chair I’d been sitting in. After tripping over my shorts and falling to the floor on my hands and knees, his executive assistant had walked in and caught us in what she logically assumed was a very compromising position. The word of what she had seen, greatly embellished I’m sure by those telling the story, had spread like wildfire through the office after I made a hasty retreat out of the building.

  “Is he in his office?” I said as casually as I could manage.

  “He is,” she said. “Is he expecting you?”

  “No, he’s not,” I said.

  “Let me buzz him and see if he can squeeze you in before his first meeting,” she said, reaching for her phone. “Suzy Chandler is here to see you, sir. Of course. Thank you.” She hung up and smiled at me. “Go right in. You’ll have about fifteen minutes.” Then she did her best not to laugh. “I hope that will be enough time,” she said, unable to get the smile off her face.

  “I’m sure it will,” I said, biting my bottom lip.

  “Can I bring you anything? Coffee? Tea? Maybe some sunscreen?”

  “Funny,” I said, heading for the door.

  I knocked then entered the office. Gerald was sitting behind his desk reviewing a thick document.

  “Suzy, what a nice surprise,” he said, getting up and gesturing for me to sit in the same high-backed leather chair I’d been in before. “Nice shorts. I assume they fit a lot better than that other pair.”

  “Everybody’s a comedian.”

  “What brings you here this beautiful morning?”

  “I just had breakfast with Detective Renfro,” I said.

  “Sure, I know Renfro. He’s a good cop,” he said, nodding. “That’s not exactly earth-shattering news, but it’s your meeting. I’m sure I’ll pick up the thread at some point.”

  “I was talking with him about Jennifer Jensen.”

  “Okay,” he said, frowning. “And?”

  “And she’s the prime suspect at the moment,” I said.

  “Did Detective Renfro tell you that?” Gerald said, raising an eyebrow. “Because if he did, I might need to have a little chat with his superiors.”

  “No, she told me when I was at her place,” I said, then decided to tell Gerald a small lie so as not to burn any bridges. “Detective Renfro didn’t tell me anything.”

  “How’s Jennifer doing?” Gerald said. “I haven’t had a chance to talk with her yet.”

  “That’s right,” I said, nodding. “You mentioned that you knew her.”

  “I do,” he said, glancing at his watch.

  “How well?”

  “How well do I know her?” Gerald said, annoyed. “That’s none of your business, Suzy.”

  “Geez, Gerald, relax,” I said, staring at him. “I’m just making chit-chat here.”

  “Did Jen say something to you?” Gerald said.

  “About you? Not a word. Jen?” I said, then the penny dropped, and I grinned at him. “You old dog. You’re sleeping with her, aren’t you?”

  Gerald stared off at a wall that displayed dozens of pictures of him posing with dignitaries and celebrities then shook his head and focused on me.

  “Not anymore,” he whispered. “We haven’t spoken in months.”

  “You had a fight?”

  “Yeah, a big one,” he said.

  “Can I ask what it was about?”

  “No, you can’t,” he snapped.

  “Fair enough. I always thought you were into blondes,” I said, grinning at him. “I didn’t know you had a thing for pink hair.”

  “It’s pink?” he said, confused. “The last time I saw her it was bright green.”

  “That would have been when you had the big fight, right?”

  Gerald exhaled loudly and shook his head at me.

  “Tell me again why you’re here. I’m having a hard time following.”

  I was about to explain then stopped. Since I’d already told him that Detective Renfro hadn’t divulged anything, I couldn’t mention his reaction to my offhand remark about Jensen selling drugs in front of the government offices. I decided to stay generic.

  “I’m just trying to figure out if there is a connection between drug smuggling and cockfighting.”

  Gerald shook his head sadly and rubbed his eyes.

  “Oh, Suzy. What am I going to do with you?”

  “What would you like to do, Gerald?” I said with a big grin. “But I should probably tell you there’s no way I’m dying my hair pink.”

  “Funny,” he said. “I was thinking about something a bit more direct to get your attention. Like throwing you out my window. But your mother would never forgive me.”

  “So, what do you think?” I said.

  “About a possible connection between those two activities?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I think you need to stop worrying about it,” Gerald said. “Leave the investigation to Detective Renfro and the rest of the people we pay to figure those things out.”

  “Sure, sure,” I said, nodding. “I was just thinking, since cockfighting is such a despicable activity, it must attract some of the seedier people who live here.”

  “I’m sure it does,” Gerald said. “But it’s none of your business. Got it?”

  “Have you ever been to one?”

  “A cockfight?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I have not,” he said, shaking his head. “Like you, I think it’s despicable.”

  “Then why don’t you do something to shut it down?”

  “Suzy, I’m about to go into a meeting with a guy from Brazil who wants to invest half a billion in Cayman. And after that, I’m going to a budget meeting where
we’re going to have to find a way to cut several million dollars without doing too much damage to the people who live here. I’m sorry, but cockfighting is way down my list of things to worry about.”

  “But you could make a few calls, right?”

  “I could, but I won’t,” he said, glaring at me. “Just let the police handle it.”

  “Let me ask you a question, Gerald,” I said, returning his glare.

  “Why stop now?” he said, spreading his arms.

  “If we were talking about dog fighting you’d do something to stop it, right?”

  Gerald flinched like I’d punched him. He leaned forward and selected a piece of hard candy from the bowl on the coffee table between us. He held the bowl out, and I took one and began unwrapping it. Gerald continued to think about my question as he rolled the candy around in his mouth.

  “Dog fighting? Yes, I certainly would,” he said.

  “I know you would,” I said, popping the piece of candy into my mouth and immediately tasting cinnamon. “But I guess roosters don’t make the cut, huh?”

  “C’mon, Suzy, give me a break,” Gerald said, crunching down hard.

  “I just find it hard to believe-” I said, then choked as the piece of candy slid down my throat and got stuck. I gagged and tried to cough, but I couldn’t catch my breath. I gasped for air and clawed at my throat.

  “Are you okay?” Gerald said, hopping up from his chair.

  “I…can’t…breathe,” I said, clutching my chest. “Hi…hi…”

  “Heimlich?” Gerald said, pulling me out of my chair.

  I could only manage a small nod. Gerald positioned me behind the leather chair, and I placed both hands on it. He stood behind me and wrapped both hands around my chest, and pulled hard. I continued to gag and gasp for breath, and he repeated the maneuver a second time. Then a third. Just as the piece of candy flew out of my mouth and across the office, Gerald’s executive assistant knocked on the door and poked her head inside.

  “Your ten o’clock is waiting for you in the conference room,” she said, then stared at us and shook her head. “Oh, Gerald. Not again.”

  Chapter 12

  I picked up the wet tennis ball that Chloe had dropped at my feet and tried to shield myself from the torrent of water she was shaking off. I grabbed my towel and wiped my face then glanced down at her.

 

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