The Case of the Eccentric Elkhound

by B R Snow

  “Well, you’ve seen her eat, so it has to be genetics,” I said, finishing my wine.

  A few minutes later, Josie entered running a comb through her hair. She was now wearing shorts and a silk blouse I’d given her for Christmas. She slipped on a pair of sandals and sat down. Captain hopped down off the couch and bounded up on the other and plopped down on Josie’s lap. She rubbed his head, thumped his back, then settled in. I studied Chef Claire as she watched Josie and Captain’s well-practiced routine play out with a big smile on her face.

  Yes, Chef Claire was definitely dog-ready.

  “Are we ready to do this?” Josie said, glancing over at me.

  “Let’s do it.”

  I got off the couch and walked across the living room and removed two wrapped presents from the armoire. On my way back to the couch, I handed both gifts to Chef Claire.

  “We thought we’d just give you our gift now before the party,” I said, sitting back down.

  “Oh, guys, you didn’t need to do that,” Chef Claire said.

  “Stop,” Josie said, waving it off. “Happy birthday.” Then she looked at me. “Should we sing?”

  “Oh, let’s not,” I said. “We’ll save that for the party.”

  “Good call,” Josie said. “That way, nobody will be able to pick out the two women with the terrible singing voices.”

  Not only can’t Josie and I carry a tune; we can’t even lift one.

  “The bigger one is from my Mom,” I said. “She wouldn’t let us see it, but she did say that it will go perfectly with what we got you.”

  “I love birthdays,” Chef Claire said, rubbing her hands together. “Okay, let’s see what Mrs. C. has come up with. Nice wrapping.”

  Chef Claire slowly removed the wrapping, then opened the box. She reached inside then held two pieces of colorful fabric in the air. Both pieces were tiny.

  “So am I correct assuming you got me a trip to a nudist colony?” Chef Claire said, laughing. “This has to be the smallest bathing suit I’ve ever seen.”

  “It’s either that or a couple of pocket squares,” Josie said, shaking her head. “Let me see that thing.”

  Chef Claire handed both pieces of the bathing suit, and Josie turned it over in her hands, then gave it back to Chef Claire. I shook my head at my mother’s ongoing ability to surprise me.

  “My mother said she got the same thing for you and me,” I said to Josie.

  “Great. I’ve always wanted an all over sunburn.”

  “I’m not sure this suit is appropriate River attire,” Chef Claire said, laughing.

  “Yeah, if you wear that around here, you’ll never get rid of Jackson and Freddie,” Josie quipped, then stopped, embarrassed. “Sorry, Chef Claire. That was uncalled for.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “But I’m confused.”

  “Open the other one,” I said, nodding at the long, thin object in her lap.

  Chef Claire opened it and studied it closely before beaming back and forth at us.

  “Grand Cayman? Are you kidding?” she said, staring at the first-class air ticket.

  “Yeah, we’re all going for a week just after Christmas,” I said. “My mother has been hounding us to visit her at her place down there. She finally wore us down, and we thought you might want to join us. You know, misery loves company and all that.”

  “I’ve always wanted to go there,” Chef Claire said, getting up to give each of us a hug. “Thank you so much. I can’t wait.”

  “Didn’t you just hear me say that my mother is going to be there?” I deadpanned.

  “Stop,” Chef Claire said, laughing. “It’ll be so much fun.” Then she frowned. “Am I really going to have to wear this suit on the beach?”

  “Yup,” I said.

  “I’m going to see if I can get away with just wearing mine somewhere more appropriate,” Josie said. “Like in the shower. But Mrs. C. has always been pretty adamant that, when we do come for a visit, we, how did she put it, Suzy?”

  “Display our natural assets,” I said, staring at the bikini and making a silent vow not to eat after Thanksgiving.

  “Oh, they’ll be on display all right,” Chef Claire said, again holding up the suit for another look.

  “I’m sure it’s another of my mother’s matchmaking ploys.”

  “Undoubtedly,” Josie said, nodding.

  “You don’t really believe that, do you?” Chef Claire said.

  “I’ll bet you a hundred bucks my mother already has the list of men she’s planning on inviting to be there the same week.”

  “You need to start figuring out who’s going to cover the restaurant that week,” Josie said.

  “That’s right,” Chef Claire said. “I think I’ve got a couple of ideas. We’ll make it work.”

  “Speaking of restaurants,” I said, getting up off the couch. “We have a party to get to.”

  “You sure you don’t want to change into your birthday suit before we go?” Josie said to Chef Claire, nodding at the bathing suit.

  “You’re not funny.”

  “Disagree.”

  Chapter 26

  The party was in full swing by the time we got to the restaurant, and I spent the first twenty minutes saying hello and catching up with several friends. I eventually worked my way to the bar, had a quick word with Rocco, and saw my mother chatting with Howard at the other end of the long mahogany bar. As I approached, she glanced at my choice of outfit, nodded approvingly, and then beamed at me.

  “Hello, darling. I’m so glad you’re finally starting to listen to my advice.”

  “Hi, Howard,” I said, giving him a small wave. “How are you feeling?”

  “Much better, thanks.”

  I glanced at the bruises on his face that were hard to see, and I decided Howard was probably wearing some form of makeup to conceal them. Then I looked back at my mother.

  “Your advice? You lost me, Mom.”

  “My advice about how important it is to show up fashionably late to events like these,” she said, smiling.

  “I’m just late, Mom. There’s nothing fashionable about it,” I said, accepting a glass of champagne off the tray of a server who was making the rounds. “But speaking of fashion, that’s quite the bathing suit you got Chef Claire.”

  “Wait until you see the one I got you, darling.”

  I frowned, excused myself, and wandered into the main dining room where I spotted Jackson sitting with his parents at one of the tables. Judging by the expressions on their faces, I’d come at a bad time. But Jackson waved me over, and I sat down.

  “Hi,” I said, giving Jackson a quick hug before turning to his parents. “Thanks for coming. I know that Chef Claire appreciates you being here.”

  “We wouldn’t have missed it,” Jackson said, then looked across the table at his parents. “Isn’t that right?”

  “Absolutely,” Jackson’s mother whispered.

  “Yeah, you wouldn’t want to miss this,” his father said, evenly. “You never know who might show up.”

  Jackson’s mother shook her head, exhaled loudly, then got up from the table.

  “I need to get some fresh air,” she said, then walked off.

  Jackson’s father excused himself, then followed his wife out of the restaurant.

  “It probably wasn’t a good idea to bring them along,” Jackson said, staring after his parents.

  “Are they going to get past the thing with Morrie?”

  “The thing? Don’t you mean her affair?”

  “I’m sorry, Jackson. Forget I mentioned it,” I said, patting his hand.

  “I can’t believe they’re getting a divorce.”

  “Really?”

  I was stunned by the news. For some reason, I’d just assumed that two people who’d been married as long as Jackson’s parents would find a way to get past what had happened.

  “They’re both leaving Clay Bay,” he whispered. “He’s talking about Florida. She wants to go live in Euro
pe. Europe. Can you believe that?”

  “What’s going to happen with the grocery store?”

  “It’s going to be sold.”

  “To who?”

  “Well, that’s the two-million-dollar question on the table at the moment,” Jackson said. “Either they’ll take one of the offers they already have, or I’m going to buy it.”

  “You’re seriously considering stepping down?” I said, stunned even more by that idea.

  “Yes. And as several members of the town council, especially our beloved mayor, feel the need to keep reminding me, perhaps running a grocery store is better suited to my skill set.”

  “My mother isn’t one of them, is she?”

  “No, of course not. She’s one of my strongest supporters on the council.”

  “Howard is encouraging you to step down?”

  “Absolutely. Although it seems like encouragement is rapidly becoming a mandate. And the sooner, the better as far as he’s concerned,” Jackson said. “He said he was most disappointed in, how did he put it, my ongoing and consistent inability to get any traction with the various crimes that come across my desk. Especially the murders of Calducci and Fatal Franny. Which he considers two large black marks on our delightful little town.”

  I let Jackson’s anger and cynicism pass without comment and decided on a new topic.

  “Do you have Chef Claire’s present with you?” I said, glancing around in the hope that I’d see a big box sitting on one of the chairs that contained anything but an engagement ring.

  “I left it in the car,” he said, managing a smile. “I hope she likes it.”

  “Well, you hit a home run at Christmas with the tennis bracelet, so you’ve got a lot of goodwill in the bank in case you whiff on this one.”

  “I don’t think I’m going to whiff at all,” Jackson said, frowning at me. “Speaking of which, have you seen Freddie?”

  “No, I don’t think he’s here yet,” I said.

  “He’s probably trying to show me up by giving Chef Claire his present after I go first,” Jackson said, cackling. “Boy is he in for a surprise. There’s no way he’s going to be able to follow mine.”

  “Don’t you think you two have taken this one-upmanship a bit too far?”

  “All’s fair in love and war, right?” he said, nodding to himself.

  “Try to keep that thought in mind later,” I whispered.

  “What’s that?”

  “Nothing,” I said, glancing at my watch. “Okay, it’s showtime.”

  I headed toward the large table that had several wrapped presents on it. Josie spotted me and wandered over.

  “I think we’re ready,” I said.

  “Let’s hope this isn’t a complete disaster.”

  I located the handheld microphone, switched it on, and called for everyone’s attention. People drifted in from the bar, and soon the assemblage was in a semi-circle in front of the gift table. Chef Claire approached and blushed as she stood between us. She spent several minutes opening gifts, nervously offering her thanks, and rapidly working her way through two glasses of champagne.

  Then I caught a glimpse of Jackson waving an arm at me. He was standing at the back of the crowd and obviously ready to give Chef Claire her present. I glanced at Josie and Chef Claire who both shrugged their shoulders at me.

  “Here goes nothing,” I whispered.

  Then I took a deep breath, exhaled, and spoke into the microphone.

  “I believe there’s someone at the back of the room who has something he’d like to give Chef Claire.”

  Jackson started working his way through the crowd. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Freddie on the other side of the crowd also begin to make his way toward the gift table. Both men saw each other just after they had cleared the crowd and everyone stared and murmured when we noticed the identically wrapped objects they were carrying in both arms.

  “Are you kidding me?” Josie said.

  “Not this again,” I said.

  “Either we were completely wrong, or they’re holding the largest rock any woman has ever gotten,” Josie said.

  “I think we whiffed on this one,” I said, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and relief wash over me.

  “Thank goodness,” Chef Claire whispered.

  Jackson and Freddie slowly made their way toward the gift table and kept glancing back and forth at each other as they approached. They each placed their gift on the floor in front of Chef Claire and continued to stare at each other, bewildered.

  “Happy birthday,” Jackson said.

  “Yeah, happy birthday, Chef Claire,” Freddie said.

  “What on earth do you think they got her?” Josie whispered.

  “I don’t have a clue,” I whispered back, then realized I was still holding the microphone. “Okay, Chef Claire, go ahead and open them.”

  The crowd continued to buzz, still intrigued by the identical packages. Chef Claire leaned down and carefully tore the wrapping paper off the top of Jackson’s present. Then she literally screamed with delight. She tore the rest of the paper off, then opened the door and removed one of the most gorgeous Golden Retriever puppies I’d ever seen.

  “Oh, Jackson,” Chef Claire said, gently hugging the puppy. “I can’t believe it.”

  “You think you can’t believe it,” Freddie said, staring at Jackson. “You got her a puppy?”

  “Not just a puppy,” Jackson said, beaming with pride. “A Golden that comes from one of the top breeders in the Northeast.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Freddie said. “Vincent Farms.”

  “How did you know that?” Jackson said.

  “Take a wild guess,” Freddie said, shaking his head as he gestured for Chef Claire to open his present.

  Seconds later, tears were streaming down Chef Claire’s face as she cradled both puppies in her arms.

  “Unbelievable,” Josie whispered.

  “From the same litter?” I said, glancing back and forth at Jackson and Freddie.

  “So it appears,” Jackson said, glaring at Freddie.

  “Man, you sure know how to ruin a guy’s surprise,” Freddie said, returning the glare.

  “They’re beautiful,” Chef Claire said. “I can’t believe how thoughtful you both are.”

  “And oddly operating on the same wavelength,” Josie said. “Well, you did say your present would be life-altering.”

  “And nothing will alter one’s life like two of these little guys,” I said, laughing.

  “A male and a female, right?” Josie said.

  Jackson and Freddie nodded, unable to get the blank stare off their face. Chef Claire handed each of us one of the puppies and gave both men long hugs. I felt the softness of the puppy’s fur and got a whiff of puppy breath and wanted one immediately.

  Or ten of them.

  I handed the puppy back to Chef Claire who continued to be overwhelmed by the two furry bundles in her arms. They’d just recognized each other and scrambled around in her arms wanting to play.

  “You’ll need to come up names,” Josie said.

  “I know exactly what I’m going to call them,” Chef Claire said. “The male is Al. And the female is going to be Dente.”

  “Al Dente?” I said, laughing. “That’s perfect.”

  “You guys are too much,” Josie said, beaming at Jackson and Freddie. “Well done.”

  Both men were starting to recover from the shock, and Jackson was the first to start laughing. Soon, Freddie joined in.

  “I guess great minds think alike,” Freddie said, draping an arm over Jackson’s shoulder.

  “Yeah. You know, that was a heck of a drive getting to that breeder’s place,” Jackson said, glancing at Chef Claire. “But the look on her face makes it all worthwhile, huh?”

  “It certainly does. But let’s make a pact to have a chat before we start buying Christmas presents this year.”

  Chapter 27

  The buffet that Chef Claire’s staff had put together was outsta
nding, but I stopped at two plates. I probably could have forced down a third, but it was impossible to play with the two Golden puppies while eating. So I gave Chef Claire a break so she could eat, and I began to happily roll around on the floor with Al and Dente.

  The names she’d given them still cracked me up every time I heard them.

  Playing with the puppies also gave me a break from the tension at the table that had been building between Jackson and Howard since we sat down. My mother did her best to keep both men on an even keel, but she ended up doing so much refereeing she should have been wearing a striped shirt and holding a whistle. After listening to them bicker for almost two hours, she turned cranky, and both Jackson and Howard just stopped talking altogether. Despite the damper it put on the party, I welcomed their silence.

  The crowd had dwindled considerably, and our table was the only one with people still sitting at it. The remaining handful of guests were in the bar area where Rocco was pouring drinks and keeping a close eye on everything going on.

  Chef Claire pushed her plate away and again beamed across the table at Freddie and Jackson. Then she bent down and scooped up both puppies in her arms. I got up off the floor, brushed myself off, and sat back down at the table.

  “I’m going to say goodbye to the rest of the guests, and then I think I’ll take these little guys home,” Chef Claire said. “Would one of you mind driving me home? My hands are kind of full.”

  Freddie and Jackson bolted out of their chairs.

  “Sure,” Jackson said.

  “Of course,” Freddie chimed in.

  “And we thought the whole romance-dance was about to be over,” Josie whispered.

  “I know,” I whispered back. “What’s she going to do now?”

  “Between the restaurant and the puppies she won’t have five minutes to even think about it for a while,” Josie said. “Maybe I’ll start working on them about how much Chef Claire wants a new car for Christmas.”

  “And then you’d get to use the second one, right?” I said, laughing.

  “Of course,” Josie cackled, then leaned over to accept Chef Claire’s hug. “Goodnight. Just remember, they have tiny bladders and will need to go out every couple of hours.”