Dog Gone And Dead

by Colleen Mooney

  “I’ll pass that along if I hear if anyone has found him or is considering keeping him. I’ll give them your number to talk to, if that’s okay?” she asked.

  “Sure. I’m happy to help any way I can. I would hope someone would do it for me if my dog was lost,” I said. I took a last look at the dead woman before the younger male officer started covering her up.

  Beach Patrol, whose name “Magic Mike” was embroidered on the front of his skin-tight shirt, looked like he was about to jump in his dune buggy and ride off into what was left of the morning mist. Instead, he made his way over to us and asked our names and where we were staying.

  “My name is Brandy Alexander and I’m, well we’re both from New Orleans. We’re here for a long weekend,” I said. “We plan to leave Monday.”

  “Brandy Alexander, huh? From New Orleans, well that makes sense,” he said without smiling. “What’s your boyfriend’s name, Jim Beam?”

  “No, Jack Daniels. So, you’re Magic Mike?” I asked.

  “Hey, look, just trying to get the basics here,” he said.

  “My name is Jiff Heinkel and I’m a criminal defense attorney in New Orleans,” Jiff said and reached to take my hand. “We’re staying at the Beach Breeze Condos, number 101.”

  I added with the nicest voice I could, “Would you look for the Schnauzer? I think it belonged on the end of that leash the dead woman has around her wrist. I do breed rescue for them and I’ll find him a good home.”

  Neither Jiff nor I had anything to write with so Magic Mike pulled one of his cards from a side pocket of his baggy, knee-length shorts, an odd choice I thought with the skin-tight top. The card was laminated with just his name and phone number on it. I bet he gave these to all the girls.

  “Text your info to that number and I’ll call you if I find him,” he said.

  “He might have a collar on with the name Rascal on it,” I said. “See,” I pointed to the leash floating in the water just inches away from where the body remained covered. “They are a custom set people order for their pets.”

  “Cool,” he said without looking at the leash on the woman’s arm I pointed to. “I’ll call you if I find him.” Then he revved his ride and took off leaving the uniform police to wait for forensics, the coroner, and the crime scene investigating personnel.

  “Dune buggies…riding lawnmowers with a sun roof,” Jiff said more to himself than to me.

  He took my hand and pulled me along back to our condo.

  “You thought there wouldn’t be anyone on the beach till noon,” I said. “We met three new people and did a good deed finding that girl before she floated away. Maybe we’ll do another and find her dog.”

  “Yes, and if we waited around any longer, we’d be stuck there all morning,” he said. “They know where to find us. Not exactly the way I wanted to start our long weekend.”

  “Me neither, but I’m worried about that little dog. I’d really like to find him.”

  “C’mon, Brandy, I know you. You want to solve this murder and find out who killed her.”

  “No. I don’t need to find her killer. I want to find that dog, but… if I find out who killed her along the way, well, that would be the bonus round.”

  “This is supposed to be a relaxing trip,” Jiff said with an emphasis on ‘relaxing’.

  “I’m relaxing,” I said. “Let’s go for a ride up the beach and then we can come back and I’ll make you breakfast.”

  “A ride up the beach?” Jiff asked. He stopped and looked at me. “You’re not fooling me. You want to ride up the beach and look for that dog, don’t you?”

  “Well… yes, but, only for an hour or so, then I’ll be satisfied.”

  “You won’t be satisfied until we find him,” Jiff said shaking his head. “I have a sunset sailing trip scheduled for six o’clock this evening,” he said looking at his watch.

  “Oh, we’ll be back way before then,” I said waving my hand at him like it was no big deal.

  He let out an exaggerated breath.

  “You can’t be tired already,” I teased. “Look, it’s only seven-thirty a.m. and we’ve already had an adventure.”

  “All right. After our sunset sail this evening, I planned for us to have dinner down there on the beach. The sailboat is at a marina near Pensacola so I thought we could have dinner at the Grand Marlin. I made a reservation for eight-thirty if that’s all right with you?”

  “That is perfect. All I have to do today is make a phone call,” I said.

  “A phone call? To who?” Jiff looked at me sideways wrinkling his forehead.

  “The animal shelter to give them my name and tell them I think there’s a runaway Schnauzer that might be coming their way,” I said.

  He just shook his head as we made our way along the water’s edge heading back toward our condo.

  “When we found her, I noticed her footprints in the sand near the body. If they were hers, it seemed she was walking or running toward Fort Walton. Did you see that?” I asked trying to sound as casual as I could.

  “No, I didn’t notice her footprints,” he said.

  We walked along in silence while I churned details over in my head. Things I saw on the woman’s body that might give me a hint as to where she stayed or where the dog might be headed. She was wearing running shorts, a T-shirt and rubber shoes sold at a sporting goods store to walk in the sand and water.

  “I wonder why the dog wasn’t leashed,” I mused more to myself.

  “No, I didn’t see her footprints.” he said again with a little too much emphasis on ‘her’.

  “Well, what did you see?” I asked. I knew he was messing with me now. He saw or noticed something while I went off on the 911 scavenger hunt.

  “Paw prints. I saw small, paw prints that looked like they were running in the opposite direction we’re walking now. The tide is coming in, so they’re lost but it looked like the little bugger ran that way,” he said. He turned around and held his arm out pointing straight ahead.

  “I can’t believe you. Why didn’t you tell me this sooner? This little dog might be picked up on the highway and God only knows where he could wind up. I’m always afraid someone will use them as a bait dog in a dog fighting ring. We need to find him.”

  “Okay, let’s go get the car keys and drive around for a few minutes. Maybe we’ll spot him if he made it up to the highway before a car hits him.”

  “Are you trying to make me crazy?” I asked.

  Chapter Three

  Saturday afternoon we drove around for what felt like hours. We scoured the highway that separated the beach where our condo was from the residential areas on the north side of it. We drove in and out of each subdivision looking for a dog and we weren’t even sure what he looked like. He could have been white, black, a party mix, a giant, or small. I prayed he still had that matching collar on.

  Finally, we decided to go back to the condo and do what we came here to do, and that was relax. Jiff was going to relax, and I was going to worry about that little Schnauzer. I gathered up beach towels, beach blanket, suntan lotions ranging from two SPF all the way to fifty SPF. I stuffed that and all the miscellaneous paraphernalia I needed in my beach bag along with my Walkman and headsets.

  Jiff prepared the ice chest he brought for my Pellegrino waters and his beer. He made two sandwiches and prepared some cheese and crackers he put in airtight bags. He told me he figured I would probably eat only half of one sandwich but he suspected I would definitely eat the cheese and crackers. He was right. If I had to pick only one thing to eat for the rest of my life, it would be cheese and crackers.

  “It’s a good thing our condo is right here at the walkway,” he said as we struggled with the folding chairs, my stuff, his cooler and an umbrella. “I’ll make two trips, just carry what you can.”

  “I’ve got it. We need one of those carts with dune buggy tires,” I said. “They roll right over the sand with no effort.”

  “My brother has one of those. He hauls a
pop-up tent with a floor out here, an inflatable boat he rows around in, every inflatable toy, ring, or float made for the water. He also brings along a foot pump,” he said and stopped to swap hands with what he was carrying. Then he went on mentioning more things his brother lugged out here. “He brings several noodles, a volleyball net, and volleyball, football, you name it.”

  “Why didn’t we ask him to come with us? We wouldn’t be carrying any of this stuff,” I said making Jiff smile.

  “His girlfriend doesn’t like sand on her feet. That’s why he brings the tent with a floor in it.”

  “Why doesn’t she just stay by the pool?”

  “Because, she loves the beach.”

  “Just the beach? No sand? Isn’t that what a beach is? Sand?” I asked.

  “He carries her piggyback from the walkway to the tent, then from the tent to the water and back,” he said.

  “It seems some of the Heinkel men know how to treat their women,” I said. “Why do I have to carry all my own stuff like a pack mule…and walk across the sand?” I made a face with my mouth turned down and my eyes squinting like I was about to cry.

  “That’s it. I’m buying one of those carts for our next trip,” he said.

  That’s good, I thought. Finding a dead body on the beach didn’t put him off planning future trips with me or coming back to the beach together.

  It took us several minutes to decide exactly where to make our beach camp. Too close to the water and the tide could get us. Too far away and we had to walk over hot sand without our shoes to take a dip. Finally, I took two steps closer to the water and said, “Here,” and put my stuff down. Jiff agreed it was the perfect spot.

  He took forever digging a hole to set up the umbrella saying he was worried a good puff (his term for breeze) would pick it up and propel it down the beach. He buried it so deep the only people who could have walked upright under it was Pygmies. I had to open my lounge chair and carry it bent over at the waist to set it up and sit in it. It would take a category five hurricane “puff” to upend this thing and send it flying.

  Once we both had crawled into our chairs under the umbrella, I opened the cooler to spread out the lunch he made for our beach picnic.

  “Is this your brother’s umbrella you talked about?” I asked Jiff as he popped open another beer.

  “Yes, isn’t it great?” he said and handed me the baggie with the cheese and crackers.

  “What time is our sailing trip?” I asked. “We need to give ourselves time to pick up what we brought, get back, shower and get ready.”

  “We need to arrive by six p.m. We should shower together to save time, so we can stay out here longer,” he said. I could see him looking at me out of the corner of his sunglasses.

  “Good idea,” I said.

  We were going to meet the catamaran that Jiff booked us on at the marina in Pensacola. As we made our way down a pier to the far end, we passed all types and sizes of sailboats.

  “How do you know which one we are looking for?” I asked Jiff. “Do you have a name?”

  “No, I don’t have a name but I bet you it’s the biggest catamaran out here. Look for one that’s seventy-seven feet long.”

  “Seventy-seven feet? How did they get it in here?” I asked.

  I’ve done some sailing with friends on Lake Pontchartrain and even contemplated buying a sailboat. I took lessons at the yacht club but soon realized how much upkeep a boat is and I wanted someone to sail off into the sunset with. I was tired of doing things by myself after years of waiting on and dating Dante, my childhood sweetheart, only to be abandoned on more dates than we ever had.

  “I think that’s it docked at the end of the pier. This marina doesn’t have a slip big enough for it,” Jiff said. “The Captain I booked this cruise with said he’s on his way down to the Caymans or the B.V.I. from here.”

  “Wow!” I said when I spotted it. It was a magnificent sailboat, and it was big, really, really big. It was by far the biggest yacht I had ever seen, let alone was about to have the pleasure of an evening cruise on. Painted on the port, aft side of the hull was the name, In Your Dreams 77. The seventy-seven stood for her length…seventy-seven feet long. She had a wide cockpit with dual helms and the bow had super wide trampolines between the two hulls for sunbathing or relaxing. Even at my first look this yacht screamed luxury on top of luxury. The fly bridge and the bow off the salon had blue canvas awnings to enjoy shade while being on deck. From the main deck there were three-hundred-sixty-degree views no matter where you stood inside or outside.

  “Gosh, it looks like we’re the first ones here. Do you know how many others are going on this sunset cruise?” I asked Jiff.

  “No one else,” he said and shouted to the captain for permission to come aboard.

  A nice-looking man, about Jiff’s height and age appeared from the upper deck. He was wearing a white polo shirt with the yacht’s name and his, Captain Daniel Becnel.

  “Hey, you’re right on time. Welcome aboard. I’m Daniel,” he said offering his hand to me as I stepped onto the deck from the pier. He turned to Jiff and said, “Good seeing you, man. It’s been awhile.” After we boarded, Jiff introduced me.

  “Take a look around and make yourself at home. I have to call in our sail plan to the coast guard,” Daniel said. “Just a precaution and safety policy.”

  “I can’t believe we have this entire cruise to ourselves,” I said to Jiff.

  Jiff told me he liked having the yacht all to ourselves because it would be quiet and we could enjoy a peaceful sail.

  “I’ve been on cruises where someone talks non-stop and doesn’t listen to the sound of why we’re out here in the first place,” he said.

  “Amen to that,” our Captain said and told me to call him Daniel. “Make yourselves at home. I believe you both are sailors, right?”

  “That’s a yes, if you mean, do I know the front end of the boat from the back end?” I said.

  “Well, I might ask you to lend a hand here or there with the lines casting off and when we return to dock, but otherwise, enjoy yourself. Wine and beer are in the galley below,” he said.

  Right about then, a little gray dog came out of the salon barking at us. I was thunderstruck at it being a Schnauzer.

  “Well, look who’s finally awake,” Daniel said and the little dog wagged his tail for a split second, then went back to barking at us.

  I knelt and put out my hand to make friends. After he sniffed his approval of me he went back to barking at Jiff until he put his hand down for the little guy to sniff.

  “Yeah, he’s been napping ever since we got back here from my supply run.”

  While I stared at the little dog, Jiff told Daniel by way of explanation that we each had a Schnauzer and I did rescue for that breed.

  “What a coincidence that we all have the same breed dog,” Jiff said.

  “He’s not my dog,” Daniel said. “I found him running along the beach this morning when I went into Navarre to pick up some engine parts for my BVI trip.”

  “Where did you find him?” I asked him.

  “In the supply store’s parking lot. He just fell down in front of me he was so exhausted. I picked him and brought him here and gave him some food and water,” Daniel said.

  “Did you call the shelters nearby to see if anyone is trying to find him?” I asked.

  “No. I haven’t had time since I’ve been getting ready to leave tomorrow and for this evening’s sail with you folks.”

  By now, the dog had put his paws on the leg I was kneeling on, and I got a good look at the collar. I thought I was so preoccupied with wanting to find that little Schnauzer from this morning that my eyes were making me believe the name I was seeing on his collar was Rascal.

  “Jiff, look at this,” I said.

  “Wow, this little guy just won the doggie lottery,” Jiff said.

  “I was going to post a picture of him on Facebook to see if anyone was looking for him,” Daniel said adjusting a sail
to pick up a little speed.

  “I didn’t even think of posting on Facebook to look for him,” I said looking up at Jiff. Then I said to Daniel, “I think we know who owns this dog and you won’t believe how our day started.”

  “Or how fortuitous it was scheduling this cruise with you,” added Jiff. “You have saved me from scouring the coast for this little dog over the next two days we’re here on vacation.”

  “Rascal’s the name on his collar,” said Daniel. “He seems to respond to it.”

  After Jiff and I helped cast off and when we were clear of the harbor, Jiff gave Daniel the story of our early morning beach stroll resulting in finding Rascal’s owner. I decided to go below and grab us beers, wine or whatever we wanted. I walked through double sliding marine glass doors to the salon with Rascal at my heels. He followed me everywhere. I wondered if this dog knew how to swim. I stopped worrying when I saw how good his sea legs were.

  The salon was crafted in a subtle mix of teak and light woods with cream colored sofas and oversized chairs for an organic feel. To the left was the galley that opened to the dining area on the other side. It had one long counter, bar height, with five bar stools. This open area was ample entertainment space to lounge and relax in for the ten guests this yacht slept, with enough room for a heck of a party.

  At the other side of the banquet style dining area, double wide sliding doors opened onto the bow under an awning with more outdoor dining and modular seating. This gave new meaning to the term open floor plan. It reminded me of a lanai design you see in Hawaii. Besides the banquet tables, there were built-in sofa-type seats along the gunwales. You could host a party on the bow end with more people than I could fit into my apartment.

  The galley was nicer than my parents’ kitchen and they had recently remodeled it with Viking appliances. This had a five-burner stove, dual sinks, expansive work space and a glass front refrigerator. It was stocked with cheeses, wine, Pellegrino waters and every name brand beer you have ever heard of.