The Case of the Eccentric Elkhound

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The Case of the Eccentric Elkhound Page 15

by B R Snow


  “Okay,” I said, having no idea where the conversation was about to go.

  “And I was talking with Chef Claire the other night, and she mentioned that she’d just fired one of your bartenders.”

  “Yeah, he was apparently confused about who actually owned the money that was going into the cash register,” I said.

  “Funny how some people think, huh?” Rocco said. “When she mentioned that you were looking for a new bartender, I offered my services.”

  His comment caught me by surprise, and I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about the idea of a former mobster working behind our bar, but I was willing to hear him out. Josie seemed to be torn about the idea as well.

  “You’re a bartender?” Josie said.

  “I’m a lot of things,” he said. “But I’m a very good bartender. And there are rarely any problems in my bar when I’m working. I started tending several years ago after I got out of my previous line of work.”

  “I thought that was when you started working construction,” I said.

  “It was,” Rocco said. “But I needed a second job to help pay for my therapy sessions. My shrink is really good, but she isn’t cheap.”

  I waited for him to laugh, or even smile, but he was deadly serious.

  “What did Chef Claire have to say?” I said.

  “She seemed okay with it, but she wanted me to run it by you guys first.”

  “Well, we trust Chef Claire’s judgment and have a hard time saying no to her,” I said, glancing at Josie.

  “And we’d have an even harder time saying no to someone like you, Rocco,” Josie said, laughing.

  Rocco laughed along, and I had to admit that, over the past week, we’d both gotten very comfortable having him around. And it certainly couldn’t hurt having someone with his skill set working with us, especially late at night when the occasional bar patron decided to turn rowdy.

  “I know it might seem a bit strange, and you have every right to be a bit nervous about saying yes, but I want you to run a complete background check on me. You’ll see a couple B&E’s from about twenty years ago, but nothing since then. Not even a speeding ticket.”

  I looked at him and decided that this was probably as vulnerable as he let himself get in public. I looked at Josie, who nodded at me.

  “Okay, Rocco,” I said, smiling at him. “Welcome aboard.”

  “Thanks, guys. You won’t regret it. And I promise I’m going to take very good care of you.”

  “Well, Rocco, since you’re now officially part of the family, do you feel like telling us who you think killed Calducci and Franny?” I said.

  Rocco shook his head and glanced at Josie.

  “Does she ever take a day off from this stuff?” he said.

  “No, I’m afraid she’s terminal,” Josie said.

  “Sorry, Suzy. I’m not ready to do that yet. But when I am, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “I guess I can wait.”

  “Don’t worry,” Rocco said. “It won’t be long.”

  Chapter 23

  Summer had arrived in Clay Bay, although as far as the annual calendar went, it wouldn’t officially start for another week. But school was out, the weather was great, and a wide variety of seasonal businesses on both sides of the River were busy. Thankfully, one person wasn’t, and we found Freddie, our local medical examiner, relaxing in his office and enjoying the fact that he hadn’t received one of the dreaded phone calls in several days.

  Freddie was sitting at his desk organizing various papers and evidence bags into piles when we came in, and he smiled at us, obviously grateful for the diversion from the mundane. He gestured for us to sit down, then nodded at the box of Paterson’s doughnuts sitting on his desk that Josie had already spied.

  “Good morning, guys,” he said, leaning back in his chair and putting his feet up on the desk. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you in a while.”

  “We’re good, Freddie,” Josie said, eyeing the remaining selection of doughnuts before settling on a chocolate cruller. “Thanks for the doughnut.”

  “Knock yourself out. They’re all yours. My limit is three.”

  “Amateur,” Josie said, laughing.

  “Well, since no one has died recently,” Freddie said. “I doubt if you’re here to snoop. So, am I correct assuming that this is a social call?”

  “Yes,” I said, waving away the box of doughnuts Josie was offering. “Chef Claire’s birthday party.”

  “What about it?” Freddie said. “Tomorrow night at the restaurant, right?”

  “Yes, but we’ve decided to do presents at eight o’clock,” I said.

  “Okay, that’s fine with me,” he said, shrugging.

  I glanced at Josie and nodded for her to get the ball rolling. We’d debated all morning about which one of us would take the lead on what possibly could end up being a difficult conversation. In the end, we’d flipped a coin. Josie lost.

  “And we wanted to give you the option of maybe giving Chef Claire her present earlier,” Josie said. “Or even later in the evening when the two of you had some time to be alone.”

  “After everyone else has gone home,” I blurted. “You know, in case you wanted it to be a special moment just between you and Chef Claire.”

  “No,” Freddie said, shaking his head. “I think I’d like to do it in front of everyone. You know, surprise her in front of all of our friends.”

  “Geez,” Josie said, scrunching up her face. “Do you think that’s a good idea? Chef Claire hates being the center of attention, and we don’t want her to feel embarrassed.”

  “Why would she be embarrassed? It’s her birthday, and a lot of people are going to be giving her presents. Isn’t that the way it usually works?”

  “Yes, but you’ve said that your gift is going to be a very special one,” Josie said.

  “It is,” Freddie said, smiling. “And it’s something she’ll remember forever. I’m going to pick it up tomorrow morning. I had to wait until it was ready.”

  I looked at Josie, and both of us seemed at a loss for words. Since that was such a rare occurrence, I wasn’t sure how to proceed. Our recent conversations with both Freddie and Jackson had convinced us that they were both going to give Chef Claire an engagement ring to match the identical diamond tennis bracelet both of them had given her last Christmas. For some reason, they were both on the same wavelength when it came to deciding what to give her. Unfortunately, for them, they were also both oblivious to the fact that while Chef Claire loved both of them as friends, despite their best efforts, she wasn’t in love with either of them.

  But both Freddie and Jackson had made their frustrations clear when it came to the amount of time Chef Claire was taking to make her choice between them. And while it was apparent to everyone who’d been watching the situation play itself out over the past several months, Freddie and Jackson remained convinced that Chef Claire’s choice would ultimately be one of them over the other. The possibility that Chef Claire’s decision would be to say no to both of them never seemed to cross their minds.

  This year, Chef Claire’s birthday should be a memorable one and highlighted by being surrounded by dozens of friends celebrating the opening of her new restaurant. While we understood Freddie and Jackson’s impatience and tenaciousness, trying to force Chef Claire’s hand by proposing in a public setting seemed insensitive, even selfish. And while we were certain we wouldn’t be able to stop either one of them from proposing, our plan was to do everything possible to prevent it from happening in front of a hundred people. Freddie and Jackson would undoubtedly be embarrassed by her public rejection, but Chef Claire could be devastated from being put in that position in the first place. Our hope was that we could gently suggest that they both gave their birthday presents to her in a private setting.

  Still searching for something to say, I changed my mind and grabbed a doughnut.

  “Can you give us another hint about what you’re getting her, Freddie?” Josie said. />
  I nodded at her. Good job. When in doubt, ask a question.

  “No,” he said. “I want it to be a surprise. Again, all I’ll say is that it is life altering.”

  “What have you done, Freddie?” I whispered.

  “Like I told you earlier, I decided to just roll the dice,” Freddie said.

  “Is it going to make her mad?” Josie said. “Or worse, unhappy?”

  “I can’t imagine why it would,” he said, confused by the question. “And I’d be really surprised if it did either of those things.”

  I paused to reflect on the exquisite blindness of unrequited love, came up short, then settled for wondering just how dumb two guys could be.

  “But if she doesn’t like it, that will tell me all I need to know,” Freddie continued. “I’ll know right away if I’ve hit a home run, or if I’ve stepped over the line.”

  “I guess it’s important to try to use moments like that as a learning opportunity,” Josie whispered.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “And if Chef Claire doesn’t like it, I’m sure I’ll be able to find someone else to give it to,” Freddie said.

  Josie and I stared at each other. Befuddled is probably the best word to describe our expressions.

  “Find someone else to give it to?” I said.

  “Yeah,” he said, shrugging. “It might take some time, but eventually I’m sure someone else would love to have it.”

  “What is wrong with you?”

  “What are you talking about?” Freddie said, officially joining the ranks of the befuddled.

  “Haven’t you learned anything about how to build a relationship?” I said.

  “Really, Suzy? You’re giving me relationship advice?”

  If he didn’t have me on the ropes, I would have smacked the smug look right off his face.

  “Good point,” I said. “Never mind.”

  “Look, try and understand. I’ve been trying to get Chef Claire to make up her mind about me for months, and the only thing I’ve learned is that everything I’ve done up to this point has been wrong. So, I decided to try something different. What have I got to lose?”

  Apart from his dignity and possibly the friendship of Chef Claire’s and several other people, not much I decided. But I kept quiet and finished my doughnut.

  “I guess it’s hard to argue with your logic, Freddie,” Josie said. “Just promise us you’ll be gentle and play nice.”

  “Geez, thanks for stopping by, guys,” he said, shaking his head. “Why don’t you just go ahead and do a cavity search when you’re done screwing around with my head? And here I was actually missing you.”

  Ready for a new topic, I glanced around at the items on Freddie desk and spotted something that looked interesting. At a minimum, it would be something different to talk about.

  “Is that the evidence from Calducci’s houseboat?” I said.

  “Yeah, I’m just trying to get it all organized before I file it away,” he said, removing his feet from the desk and sitting back in his chair.

  “So, what’s the official cause of death going to be listed as?” I said, scanning the various clear plastic bags scattered across the desk.

  “Officially, it’s going to be categorized as an accidental overdose,” Freddie said, warily.

  “Not a suicide or maybe a murder?”

  “I thought my answer was perfectly clear, Suzy.”

  “There’s no need to get snarky, Freddie.”

  “Look, Suzy. Calducci’s death was suspicious, and we both know it. But there’s nothing that suggests suicide. Or even a smidgen of evidence that indicates he was murdered.”

  “Smidgen? I just love it when you break out the technical terms, Freddie,” Josie said, laughing.

  “You mind if I have a look?” I said.

  “Knock yourself out,” he said, gesturing at the desk. “Just don’t open any of the bags.”

  I picked up one of the bags that contained some of Calducci’s clothing. Apart from a few food stains, there didn’t appear to anything of note on either his shirt or the pair of shorts he’d been wearing. Another bag contained his personal effects including a very expensive watch and a couple of elaborate gold rings set with gemstones.

  “Doesn’t his widow want these?” I said, holding up the bag containing the jewelry.

  “Nope, she stopped by with Jackson for a final wrap up, and she said she doesn’t want anything to do with it. I’d like to sell it and donating the proceeds to charity, but I don’t think I’ll get approval from the authorities yet.”

  “Because it’s considered evidence, right?” I said.

  “No,” he said, evenly. “Because it’s just too early, and there are time statutes that need to be met.”

  “Sure, sure,” I said, nodding. “That watch is worth more than my car.”

  “The plastic bag is worth more than your car, Freddie said, laughing. “When are you going to get around to getting a new one?”

  “As soon as the one I have wears out. It’s about to hit 300,000 miles. And I love milestones. Besides, that SUV is like an old friend.”

  “Oh, so you like to harangue your car on a regular basis, too, huh?”

  Josie snorted as she picked her way through the remaining doughnuts.

  “Funny,” I said, refocusing on the pile of evidence.

  I picked up another bag that contained several bottles of prescription drugs. I shook the bag and noticed that most of the bottles were almost empty.

  “Man, he sure did take a lot of pills,” I said.

  “Yeah, he must have been walking around zonked most of the time,” Freddie said, nodding. “Of course, we weren’t able to determine what his normal levels were given the circumstances.”

  “Zonked? There you go getting technical again,” Josie said, laughing.

  “It kind of says it all, don’t you think?” Freddie said. “He had high levels of Vicodin, Percocet, and every other pain killer available on the market. As well as a few that aren’t.”

  “Really? Street drugs?” I said.

  “No, not really. I wouldn’t call them street drugs, although I’m sure you can find them out there if you look hard enough. They’re high-end pharmaceuticals you don’t see a lot of. And he was also taking blood pressure medicine and a few other things for some stomach problems that showed up on his medical records.”

  I picked up the bag again and looked at the labels through the clear plastic. Most were from a pharmacy that was obviously near Calducci’s home in Rochester, a few others were from local pharmacies, including Howard’s. I put the bag down and sat back in my chair.

  “Are you satisfied, Miss Marple?” he said.

  “Miss Marples,” I said, correcting him.

  “No, it’s Miss Marple,” he said. “Both of you always get that wrong. It’s singular.”

  “Really?” I said, glancing at Josie.

  “No, that can’t be right,” Josie said.

  “Look it up,” Freddie said. “It’ll give you something to do other than bug me.”

  “We didn’t mean to upset you, Freddie,” I said.

  “I know,” he said. “You just seem to have a knack for it.”

  “Well, on that note,” I said, getting up from my chair. “I guess we should get going.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow night,” Freddie said. “Chef Claire will be opening presents at eight, right?”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to give her your gift after the party?” Josie said. “You know, make her wait. Go for maximum impact and all that?”

  “I’m positive.”

  “Yeah,” Josie said, heading for the door. “That’s what I thought you’d say.”

  Outside, we stood next to my SUV, and I felt the warm sun beating down on me.

  “Too bad we’re so busy today,” I said. “Great day to be out on the River.”

  “The first batch of rescues is being delivered this afternoon,” Josie said. “I’m afra
id it’s all hands on deck all day.”

  “Yeah, but maybe we can work in a short ride before sunset,” I said. “I need to clear my head.”

  “Well, before you try to do that, I suggest you wait until we have our other conversation,” Josie said, climbing in the passenger seat. “No sense doing double work.”

  “Yeah, Jackson. I almost forgot.”

  “Think it will go any better than the one with Freddie?”

  “I doubt it,” I said, starting the car.

  “Two wedding proposals in the same night,” Josie said. “How is that even possible?”

  “She was just trying to be nice and not hurt their feelings.”

  “Probably a bad strategy on her part,” Josie said.

  “Yup.”

  “How do you think she’s going to play it?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “How would you handle it?”

  “I’d probably run away and hide in the walk-in cooler.”

  “Better than that sub-zero freezer, right?” Josie said, laughing.

  “Without a doubt. At least in the walk-in, I could try to eat my problems away,” I said, glancing over at her. “What would you do?”

  “I think I’d probably hit the bar and then go from there.”

  Chapter 24

  Last night, as I was pondering the question of how Jackson and Freddie would handle Chef Claire’s birthday and how she might react, another thought had popped into my head. At first, I thought it was just one of those passing notions that seemed to appear out of nowhere, hung around for a while, then faded. And the first time it flashed through my head, I had actually laughed at how absurd it sounded. But the notion had stayed with me and blossomed into a series of what-if questions. Now it nagged at me and threatened to overwhelm my entire thought process. And since it still seemed like such an absurd idea, I decided I would keep it to myself for now and not discuss it with those closest to me.

  But keeping it to myself, while undoubtedly giving Josie and my mom a well-deserved respite from my usual rants and rambles, had given me a headache. Whatever had caused this particular idea to pop to the surface from my subconscious hadn’t done me any favors, and I decided to do what I always did when I needed to settle down and put things back into some sort of perspective. I headed down to the Inn for an extended visit with our four-legged residents.

 

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