“Michael chose Cancun. I picked the Bahamas. Both were absolutely wonderful. The water was clear, the beaches were clean, the weather was warm, and the food was wonderful. Did you… did you and Samantha ever go on any cruises?”
I shook my head, “No. Neither one of us ever talked about it, so it was never brought up.”
“How are you feeling, what with the news that Samantha’s death might not be accidental?”
“I’m not sure,” I truthfully admitted. “I always felt like something wasn’t right. Her SUV was brand new, so I knew it wasn’t a ‘malfunctioning car’, as the investigators thought. It never sat well with me, even though I was urged to just let it go and move on with my life. That’s why I moved to PV.”
Jillian nodded, “I know. And now?”
“Well, my first reaction is to go back to Phoenix and start poking around.”
Jillian fell silent.
“But,” I continued, “Phoenix is a huge city. I’m just one guy. I don’t think I’d be able to dig up anything new. So, for now, it’s a waiting game. As soon as the Phoenix detectives sends copies of those files over to us, I think it best not to do anything rash.”
Jillian smiled and grasped my hand tightly in her own, “Now that is a wise course of action.”
“Thanks.”
“So, with regards to cruises, where would you like to go?”
“Well, I’ll be honest with you,” I began. “I haven’t given this part too much thought. I’ve been doing a lot of research online about why people like cruises so much.”
“And?” Jillian prompted. “What convinced you to give it a try?”
“You.”
Jillian smiled and took my hand. Right about that time, Watson returned with the ball, once more ahead of Sherlock. She spit the ball at my feet and waited for someone to pick it up. I could see Sherlock was panting, but I also knew he was having a great time. Just as I picked up the ball, both dogs suddenly lifted their noses, sniffed a few times, and then looked straight at me.
“What are they doing?” Jillian whispered.
“Beats me,” I answered. “Sherlock? Watson? Knock it off. You’re starting to creep me out.”
Sherlock slowly approached, almost as if he was in stealth mode and didn’t want to make any sudden movements lest he give away his position. The little tri-color corgi slowly climbed onto my lap, stepped up onto my chest, and leaned forward to sniff my face.
“I do believe he can smell the food you must have sampled at Arthur’s demonstration.”
“Is that what has you two riled up?” I asked the dogs. “Come on Sherlock, get down. Your paws are dirty.”
Sherlock started to lower himself back down to my lap when he hesitated. He leaned close once more. I actually felt the air he was expelling as he sniffed my chest.
“This is cute, buddy, and I appreciate it. However, do you think you could get off my lap now? You’re no Chihuahua, you know.”
Sherlock snorted and climbed off my lap. Watson was still eyeing me, as though she was undecided if she wanted to do the same thing. I scratched behind her ears and told her she was a good girl, which had the effect of mollifying her, since she was ready to play again.
I tossed the ball and watched the two dogs run after it once more.
“What were we talking about?” I asked, as I turned to Jillian.
“The food at Arthur’s demonstration. Did you spill some on you?”
“Yeah, a little. But I cleaned it up.”
“Dogs have an excellent sense of smell.”
I nodded, “Yep. That they do. Now, back to cruises.”
Jillian clapped her hands and beamed a smile at me, “Yes! Cruises. You were telling me what convinced you to change your mind.”
“Right. So, the more research I did, the more experiences I read about from people who went on these boat rides. I think what finally convinced me was the simple fact I like to go places I’ve never been to before.”
“Have you been to many places?” Jillian wanted to know.
“All over the US. I’ve been to a number of Canadian provinces. However, that’s the only other country I’ve been to besides our own.”
“I’d call that important, need-to-know information,” Jillian decided. “I should have played that angle from the start.”
“Play what? What did you say?”
Jillian gave me a cryptic smile, “Oh, nothing. Please continue.”
“So, now that you know I like to go places where I’ve never been before, where does that leave us? What cruise would you like to go on?”
“You’ve obviously been to California,” Jillian guessed.
I nodded, “Many a time. Why? Are there cruises that stop in California?”
“Several, actually. Oh! I know which one I’d love to go on with you!”
“Oh, yeah? Let’s hear it. Which one?”
“I’d like to go on an Alaskan cruise.”
“You mean to see the calving of those big glaciers? I asked.
Jillian nodded excitedly, “Yes. I’ve always wanted to see Alaska’s rugged beauty for myself. I… oh, no. You’ve been to Alaska before, haven’t you? I can see it in your eyes.”
“Once,” I confirmed, “but only to Anchorage.”
“So, I guess you aren’t interested in taking the Alaskan cruise?”
I took a deep breath and smiled at my girlfriend. My girlfriend. I really did like saying that.
“I would love to go with you on an Alaskan cruise.”
Jillian squealed with excitement and threw her arms around me. The mood was quickly shattered, however, when the both of us realized – at the same time – that neither dog had returned. Concerned by the absence of barking, Jillian and I broke apart and looked around the grassy clearing.
“Sherlock? Watson? Where are you two?”
“Sherlock!” Jillian called out, in her loudest voice. “Where are you, pretty boy?”
Then we heard a faint bark. Thankfully, it wasn’t a distressed bark, but a ‘come see what we found’ type of bark. Being the owner of two corgis, I have heard that particular bark a few times before.
“He’s found something,” I told Jillian. I rose to my feet and pulled her up with me. “Let’s go check it out.”
“It had better not be a dead body,” Jillian teased. “If it is, then I’m going to start calling you ‘Grim Reaper’.”
I snorted with laughter, “You have a very unique sense of humor.”
“Guilty as charged. Oh, look. There they are.”
“What are they doing?” I asked, as I moved to Jillian’s right side so that I could see around the large tree directly in front of me.
“They’re not doing much. Sherlock keeps looking at those shrubs. His ball probably rolled underneath it.”
“Then what’s Watson holding?” I asked, as I pointed at the red and white corgi with the tennis ball in her mouth.
Jillian frowned and looked back at Sherlock. He kept woofing at the bush, as though he expected some type of animal to come careening out of it. Wait, was there?
Now it was my turn to frown.
“Sherlock, come away from there. What’s under there? Some type of animal?”
Sherlock didn’t budge. Neither did Watson.
I leaned down to grab their leashes, still clipped securely in place on their collars. I will not unclip their leashes whenever we’re away from home. I might let them run free for a little bit, like we’re doing now, but in case I need to grab them, it’s easier to grab a trailing leash. Have you ever tried to catch a corgi who thinks you’re playing with them? Those little bastards can move!
It took several gentle tugs to pull the dogs away from the bush. Handing the leashes to Jillian, I dropped to my knees to peer under the bush. What did I see? Nothing. I should have known. It’s a bush. I’m going to see what you’d expect to see: the undersides of the same damn bush.
“There’s nothing there, buddy,” I told Sherlock. “Just more leaves.”
Sherlock pulled at his leash. He wanted to return to the shrub and presumably bark some more. I gave Jillian a questioning look, which essentially said, Now what?
Jillian shrugged. She didn’t see anything remarkable about the plant, either. She handed me Sherlock’s leash and we decided to continue the walk.
I distinctively heard Sherlock snort.
Fifteen minutes later found us farther upstream, following a small trail worn into the grass. I can only presume it was some type of wild animal trail. Both corgis had finally increased their pace so they could stay ahead of us, when for the last quarter of an hour, they trailed behind, as if we were leading them to the vet’s office.
Within moments, Sherlock was back to pulling on his leash. Watson followed suit a few seconds later. Jillian noticed the dogs’ odd behavior and shook her head.
“Give them some slack. Let’s see what they do.”
“They had better not lead me to the closest bush,” I grumbled. “And if they do, it had better be for a potty break.”
The dogs led me to the nearest clump of bushes, naturally. And they didn’t go potty. Sherlock quietly woofed at the plants, while Watson chose to watch her packmate’s antics.
“For Pete’s sake, Sherlock. It’s a bush. Let it go.”
“Why didn’t he stop at that one back there?” I heard Jillian ask.
I turned to see her pointing at a clump of at least five scraggly looking bushes that looked as though they could be turned into tumbleweeds if a decent wind were to appear. A frown slowly formed. Those bushes weren’t the same. And, the row of bushes Sherlock was now woofing at did match the first one.
“What kind of bushes are those?” I asked Jillian as I pointed at the green, leafy shrubs.
“I don’t know,” Jillian sad, with a sad shake of her head. “I see them everywhere, so I know it’s not a rare variety, if that’s what you’re asking.”
I pulled out my cell and took a pic, just for kicks and giggles.
“What are you supposed to do with your pets if you want to go on a cruise?” I asked, once the dogs had settled back down.
We turned around and started walking back towards the winery and my house. Sherlock and Watson were trotting out in front of the two of us, as though we had been lost and those two had been responsible for our rescue. Jillian sighed and took my hand.
“I’m not gonna like this answer, am I?” I asked.
Jillian shook her head, “Well, there are a few choices. You can get a dog sitter, which usually means you invite family members to stay at your house to look after them while you’re away.”
“I don’t have any family in PV, so that’s out. What else?”
“You can hire a professional dog sitter.”
“You mean pay some stranger to come stay at my house while I’m gone? I’m not comfortable doing that. I don’t care how many good references a person has.”
“I couldn’t agree more. The final option is…”
“What?” I prompted, when I saw that Jillian had trailed off.
“You can kennel them.”
“Absolutely not,” I immediately vowed. “That’s the equivalent of locking them in cages for extended periods of time. How am I supposed to have a good time on vacation when I know Sherlock and Watson are locked in a kennel?”
Jillian rose up on her tiptoes and gave me a light peck on the cheek.
“You’re a good man, Zachary. I could never kennel my dog, either.”
“What did you end up doing?” I asked.
Jillian shrugged, “Back when I had a dog, I still lived at home. But, what mom and dad usually did was have one of their trusted friends take the dog home with them. That way someone could care for them in the comfort of their own home.”
“This would be a helluva lot easier if we were just allowed to take the dogs on the cruise ships,” I grumbled. My face lit up as I suddenly looked at Jillian. “Do they?”
Jillian shook her head, “No. Take dogs on a ship? One of the things cruise ships are known for is the abundance of food around every corner. There’s no way they’d allow dogs.”
“That sucks. Hmm. I guess I’ll have to see if I can find someone that would take them while I’m gone.”
“Zachary, I know everyone in town. Your dogs would be well cared for. In fact, I think if you were to ask for a list of volunteers who’d be willing to take them, then there would be a fight to see who could sign up first. Your dogs are very well known and very well loved.”
My cell phone suddenly beeped. Well, it chirped like a cricket, if you want to get technical. That was the sound effect currently in place on my phone that signified the arrival of a text message.
“Who’s it from?” Jillian wanted to know.
I read the message and came to an immediate stop. Both dogs felt the slack disappear on the leashes and stopped before they could clothesline themselves. Jillian took my arm and gave it a firm shake.
“What is it? What’s going on?”
“It’s from Vance. There’s been a break in the case.”
Jillian smiled, “That’s good news, right?”
I shook my head as I pocketed my phone.
“Some type of evidence has surfaced. Jillian, he’s brought in Daryl Benson for questioning. It looks like he’s become the PVPD’s public enemy number one.”
SEVEN
“Do we have any idea what they could have on Daryl Benson?” Harrison Watt – Harry to his friends – asked at dinner that night.
Harry was one of my best friends from high school and, strangely enough had also decided to make Pomme Valley his home, even after we lost touch after graduation. As you can imagine, it had come as a big surprise to learn he was living here since, when I first moved to PV, I really needed a friend. And, I should also mention my “friend” was the sole reason I had Sherlock and Watson. Harry was the town veterinarian and ran the animal rescue shelter. Sherlock had been a rescue dog that I had adopted less than 24 hours after first stepping foot in this tiny town. But, in my mind’s eye, Sherlock was the one who had rescued me.
“I would imagine we won’t know until Vance gets here,” Julie surmised. “As much as I want to pry, I won’t.”
Julie also worked at the police department. She was their part-time dispatcher and part-time fill-in-wherever-she’s-needed clerk. However, she had the day off today, so she hadn’t been privy to whatever new evidence had been uncovered. And no amount of cajoling by any of us would sway her from her decision not to snoop on Vance’s case until he had a chance to tell us himself what was going on.
I should also mention that, at the moment, we were upholding a new weekly tradition by getting together once a week to have dinner together. It was always the six of us: myself; Jillian; Vance; his wife, Tori; Harry; and Julie. I had become so accustomed to living a solitary life in Phoenix that, even when Sam had been alive, we hadn’t really gone out that much. Both of our personalities complemented the other, and neither one of us found the need to have too many friends.
Here in Smallville, Oregon, otherwise known as Pomme Valley, I actually found myself craving companionship. Not because I was lonely, but because I enjoyed having people to talk to. I think Jillian was to blame for this. She was – is – a social creature by nature. She enjoys mingling with people, going to the theater, watching the game at any of the bars here in town, or simply enjoying a cup of tea with her girlfriends.
Well, I could get on board with every aspect of that except for the tea part. I’ll take a soda any day, which is typically what I order whenever I’m invited along for one of these ‘grown-up’ soirees. Jillian would just sigh and shake her head.
Tonight, we were at my favorite Mexican restaurant in town, Casa de Joe’s. I know what you’re thinking. It doesn’t sound very, uhh, authentic, does it? But, if you’re ever here in Pomme Valley, you gotta try it. They have, hands down, the best damn burritos in town. If you want to get technical, I’d even go so far as to expand that to the county. There’s always
a minimum of a half hour wait for a table, but thankfully, the owner is a fan of mine. He’s not a reader, mind you, but more of a fan of the wine my winery produces. I make sure his restaurant never runs out of Syrah, and he makes certain I never have to wait for a table.
I ordered my favorite: a carne asada burrito – wet – with rice, beans, guacamole, and sour cream. That’s it. Just one burrito. However, with that being said, this friggin’ thing is easily half the size of the serving plate, and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a plate but a platter. And, I’m also ashamed to say, I typically ate the whole damn thing.
While we all munched on chips and salsa, waiting for Vance and Tori to arrive, we chatted about a wide variety of topics. Was the new Star Wars movie going to live up to the hype? Could we believe the price of gas? What were the chances of getting some more franchise fast food restaurants to come into town?
“Sorry we’re late,” Tori announced, as she and Vance pulled out their chairs and took a seat. “Victoria is in the school play and I’ve volunteered to help get the kids ready for their big performance.”
“I think you mean drafted,” Vance chuckled. “The school district needs some more qualified people to run their middle school drama department. Mrs. Schumacher wouldn’t know talent if it were to come up and bite her on the…”
Tori smacked her husband on the arm, cutting him off.
“Dear, don’t even think about completing that sentence. Mrs. Schumacher may not be the youngest teacher on the block, but she does know her drama.”
“She is drama,” Vance grumbled. “She can take her 6am casting calls and shove them up…”
“Well, that’s enough of that,” Tori hastily interrupted. She fired off an angry glance at her husband, and then noticed the number of confused faces at the table. “Mrs. Schumacher doesn’t like staying after school, so she has since declared all cast meetings and dress rehearsals to occur first thing in the morning. I may not like it…”
“Who would?” Vance grumbled.
“…and Vance might hate it,” Tori continued, “but at least the girls haven’t missed any classes. Anyway, it’s great to see everyone. What have all of you been up to? I mean, I know what Vance and Zack have been doing.”
Case of the Muffin Murders Page 10