by B R Snow
The Case of the
Natty Newfie
A Thousand Islands Doggy Inn Mystery
B.R. Snow
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are either used fictitiously or are the product of the author’s imagination. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form by any means, whether electronic or mechanical without the express written consent of the author. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher are illegal and punishable by law.
Copyright © 2017 B.R. Snow
ISBN: 978-1-942691-38-9
Website: www.brsnow.net/
Twitter:@BernSnow
Facebook: facebook.com/bernsnow
Cover Design: Reggie Cullen
Cover Photo: James R. Miller
Other Books by B.R. Snow
The Thousand Islands Doggy Inn Mysteries
The Case of the Abandoned Aussie
The Case of the Brokenhearted Bulldog
The Case of the Caged Cockers
The Case of the Dapper Dandie Dinmont
The Case of the Eccentric Elkhound
The Case of the Faithful Frenchie
The Case of the Graceful Goldens
The Case of the Hurricane Hounds
The Case of the Itinerant Ibizan
The Case of the Jaded Jack Russell
The Case of the Klutzy King Charles
The Case of the Lovable Labs
The Case of the Mellow Maltese
The Whiskey Run Chronicles
Episode 1 – The Dry Season Approaches
Episode 2 – Friends and Enemies
Episode 3 – Let the Games Begin
Episode 4 – Enter the Revenuer
Episode 5 – A Changing Landscape
Episode 6 – Entrepreneurial Spirits
Episode 7 – All Hands On Deck
The Whiskey Run Chronicles – The Complete Volume 1
The Damaged Posse
American Midnight
Larrikin Gene
Sneaker World
Summerman
The Duplicates
Other Books
Divorce Hotel
Either Ore
To Laurie and Stella
Chapter 1
The Immigration agent handed our passports to me through the window then glanced into the back seat where Chef Claire was surrounded by four dogs who were all eager to introduce themselves. Chef Claire lowered the window, and the dogs clamored over her and surged forward to greet him. Captain, Josie’s massive Newfie, beat the others to the punch and stuck his head through the window to say hello the laughing man.
“And how about you?” the agent said to Captain. “Where’s your passport?”
Captain woofed once, and his tail smacked Chef Claire in the face twice, once in each direction, before she was able to get a hand up to defend herself.
“Hey,” Chef Claire said, grudgingly giving up room in the back seat. “I’m sitting here.”
The agent rubbed Captain’s head then made time for my Australian Shepherd, Chloe, and Chef Claire’s Goldens, Al and Dente. Then he refocused on me behind the wheel.
“That’s a good-looking bunch of dogs you’ve got there,” he said.
“Thanks,” I said. “We like to think so.”
“I’ll just need to see their papers,” the agent said.
Josie leaned over from the passenger seat and handed them to him. He flipped through the documents and handed them back through the window.
“Hey, now I recognize you folks,” he said, nodding. “You run the Doggy Inn over in Clay Bay.”
“Guilty as charged,” I said, smiling at him.
“And you have that restaurant with the amazing chef, right?”
“Aren’t you sweet,” Chef Claire said.
“That’s the amazing one in the backseat,” I said.
“My wife and I had dinner there just last week. It was incredible,” he said, poking his head through the window to speak to Chef Claire. “We both had a pasta dish. Pesto with chicken.”
“Good call,” Josie said, nodding.
“Was that a bit of bacon I tasted in the pesto?” he said.
“Actually, it was Jamon Iberico de Bellota ham,” Chef Claire said.
“What’s the difference?” he said, frowning.
“About sixty bucks a pound,” Chef Claire said, laughing. Then she focused on Josie. “And last night I just happened to notice that a huge chunk of it is missing.”
“We probably have mice,” Josie said, glancing over her shoulder.
“What’s the purpose of your trip to Canada today?”
“We have a meeting in Ottawa,” I said.
“A photo shoot,” Josie said. “Actually, it’s the dogs’ photo shoot.”
“I see,” he said, reaching through the back window again to pet both Goldens. “Famous dogs, huh?”
“Not yet,” I said, laughing. “We’re getting ready to launch our new dog toy company, and we’re going to use the dogs in some of the marketing materials. That is if we can get them to sit still long enough.”
“Dog toy company?” he said, nodding. “Nice. Okay, you better get going then. I wouldn’t want to make them late for their closeup. Drive safe and take good care of these guys.”
“Will do. Thanks.”
He stepped back from the car, gave me a quick wave and focused on the car behind us. I raised the window and slowly accelerated. Captain and Chloe clamored over the seat and stretched out in the back of the SUV. Al and Dente remained in the back seat draped across Chef Claire’s lap. A few minutes later, it started snowing, and I glanced over at Josie.
“Do you see that?” I said, nodding at the windshield.
“I’m sure it’s just a flurry,” Josie said. “It’s too early in the season for it to stick, right?”
“Yeah, I’m sure it is,” I said, frowning. “Don’t you think?”
“Probably,” she said, glancing out the window at the snow that was beginning to fall harder.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Chef Claire said. “I talked with your mom last night, and she wants to go over the menu for Thanksgiving dinner. I thought we’d just do it during family dinner night on Monday.”
“That works,” I said, glancing at her through the rearview mirror. “Does she have a number yet?”
“She said over a hundred and fifty have confirmed so far,” Chef Claire said. “But it’s going to go up.”
“Where are we going to put everybody?” I said.
“I think we might have to add a second seating,” Chef Claire said. “We could do one at noon and then another around four.”
“How much extra work is that going to be for you and the staff?” Josie said, turning around in her seat.
“A bit,” she said, shrugging. “But we’ll make it work.”
This was going to be our second year providing dinner to local residents who were on their own during Thanksgiving or were elderly and no longer capable of cooking for themselves. Like so many community activities in our little town of Clay Bay, this one had been the brainchild of my mother. And like most of her other ideas, it had been a major success.
“I want to be assigned dessert duty this year,” Josie said. “Last year, I was on gravy detail and made a real mess.”
“Yes, we noticed,” Chef Claire said.
“I still say there was something wrong with that ladle,” Josie said, glancing over her shoulder
. Then she looked over at me. “Is Abby going to meet us at the photo shoot?”
“She is,” I said. “And she’s bringing her two Springer Spaniels.”
“Great,” Josie said. “I’ve been dying to meet them. Between the six of them, we should be able to get some good shots we can use.”
Abby Vandenburgh is our new CEO of Wags, the dog toy company we acquired several months ago. The woman who had invented the line of dog toys had a very short stint as our original CEO, but then she was arrested as an accomplice in a murder her brother had committed. Although she still holds a twenty-percent stake in the company, she is currently serving a long prison sentence courtesy of the Canadian judicial system. The fact that her brother, now serving a life sentence, was also an ex-boyfriend of Chef Claire had made our acquisition of the fledgling company even stranger. But after several months of start-up activities, including the build-out of the manufacturing facility and the hiring of three dozen staff, we were finally ready to launch.
“Who’s the photographer?” Chef Claire said.
“Thomas recommended him,” I said. “Apparently, they’re buddies. Thomas is going to meet us at the shoot. And after that, he wants to give us a tour of the factory.”
“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” Josie said.
“Yeah, look at us,” I said, laughing. “Dog toy magnates.”
“So, where is this guy’s studio located?” Josie said.
“According to Thomas, he has a downtown loft, and that’s where he does most of his work,” I said.
“And you’re sure that Max is okay with us staying at his place?” Josie said.
“Absolutely,” I said, nodding. “In fact, he insisted.”
Max is my new boyfriend, and I have to admit that I’m excited about my first trip to Ottawa since we started dating a few months ago. He’s visited me in Clay Bay three times, and it’s my turn to make the two-hour drive. I have a feeling that this is just the first in a long series of trips I’ll be making across the border.
“Don’t worry,” Josie said with an evil grin. “We promise to make ourselves scarce and do our best not to listen.”
“Speak for yourself,” Chef Claire said from the backseat.
“Shut it,” I said, my face turning red. I glanced through the rearview mirror. “It’s awfully quiet back there. What are the bruisers doing?”
“They’re all sacked out,” Chef Claire said. “Don’t look now, but the snow is starting to accumulate.”
“It is,” I said. “It’s pretty.”
“I hope we get a foot,” Chef Claire said.
“Bite your tongue,” Josie said.
“I wouldn’t mind going cross country skiing a few times before we head to Cayman,” she said.
Josie and I both snorted.
“Well, I like it,” Chef Claire said. “It makes me feel alive.”
“So does breathing,” Josie said.
“Good point,” I said, glancing over at her.
“Thank you,” she said, reaching into her bag. “Bite-sized?”
“Don’t mind if I do,” I said, grabbing a small handful from the bag she was holding out.
She passed the bag to Chef Claire, and I was about to unwrap one of the chocolate delights when I paused and tossed it into the cup holder next to me.
“Wow,” I said, slowing down. “Where the heck did this come from?”
It was evident that we were now heading directly into a major snowstorm, and about three inches had already accumulated on the highway.
“Ottawa must be getting pounded,” Josie said. “We should have checked the forecast before we left.”
“It came out of nowhere,” I said, slowing down to forty. I reached into my bag and grabbed my phone. I dialed the number and set the phone in its dashboard holder. “Hey, Thomas. It’s Suzy.”
“Hey, where are you guys?” he said.
“We’re about forty miles out, but we just hit a huge storm. How much are you getting there?”
“Six inches and counting,” Thomas said. “Take it easy on the way in. It looks like the plows are just getting out.”
“Will do,” I said, focusing on the road and the city traffic that was already starting to build. “You want to call the photographer and tell him we might be a bit late?”
“No, that’s not necessary. I’m already here,” Thomas said. “And so is Abby.”
“Hi, Suzy,” our new CEO said through the phone.
“Hey, we’re probably about an hour out. Maybe a bit more.”
“Take your time,” Abby said. “We’re just sitting here drinking coffee and watching the snow fall.”
“It’s way too early for a major storm,” I said. “Did you bring your Springers?”
“I did,” she said. “And they’re dying to go outside and play in the snow.”
“Maybe we can get some shots of all the dogs outside later,” I said.
“That’s a great idea,” Abby said. “Hang on a sec.”
I heard a sidebar conversation on the other end of the phone. Then she came back on the line.
“John said you should park in the structure underneath his building. There’s guest parking on the second level. If you park on the street, you might not be able to find your car later if it keeps snowing like this.”
“That’s not funny,” I said, grimacing at the thought of having to deal with knee-high snow this early in the season.
“I wish I could tell you that funny was what I was going for,” she said, laughing. “Drive safe.”
“See you soon.”
I ended the call and continued to stare out at the traffic that had slowed even further. The visibility was dreadful, and I shook my head.
“It looks like you might get your wish,” I said to Chef Claire through the mirror.
“I should have brought my skis,” Chef Claire said, leaning forward to look out through the windshield.
“Where is Max’s place compared to where the photographer is located?” Josie said.
“I don’t think it’s too far,” I said. “Why?”
“Because if the plows don’t make it out soon, we might end up having to hoof it,” Josie said.
“Walk to Max’s in knee-high snow with four dogs?” I said, glancing over at her with a raised eyebrow. “Not gonna happen.”
Josie and Chef Claire both laughed.
“Laugh all you want,” I said, glancing back and forth at them. “I’m not joking.”
Chapter 2
A little over an hour later, we made it into downtown Ottawa, and the overall scene, while not chaotic, was a complete mess. The first snowstorm of the year has a tendency to catch many people off guard, and it was obvious that this year would be no different. Several drivers who hadn’t gotten around to putting winter tires on their cars were spinning their wheels on the half-foot of unplowed snow and sliding into the turns they were trying to make. Other drivers, those unaccustomed to driving in the snow I assumed, were either going too fast or slamming their brakes instead of slowly pumping them when needed. We watched a sedan lose control going through an intersection and slide sideways into a truck that was waiting for a red light to turn, and I barely managed to make it around both vehicles just as the drivers climbed out to examine the damage.
I white-knuckled my way down a side street, turned onto Kent Street, then got very lucky and ended up behind a snowplow that was making short work of the accumulation on our side of the street. I followed the plow for about a mile, then made the turn that led to the photographer’s building. A few minutes later, I maneuvered the SUV into the parking garage and came to a gentle stop in one of the guest parking spots. I turned the vehicle off and realized my breathing pattern had become irregular and my fingers cramped. All four dogs began to stir in the back.
“Good job,” Josie said. “It’s nasty out there.”
“It’s been a while since I’ve driven in snow like this,” I said, reaching for my bag.
“And
?” Josie said, grinning.
“And I haven’t missed it one bit,” I said. “Okay, it looks like the elevator is off to our right. He’s on the fifth floor. You guys ready?”
“Let me just get the bruisers’ leads on them,” Chef Claire said.
“Uh-oh,” Josie said.
“What?”
“They’re probably going to need to pee first.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” I said, glancing out the window. “Well, there’s no way we can walk them back down the entrance ramp.”
“No, that would be too dangerous,” Josie said. “But a lot of the residents here must have pets, right?”
“I’d be shocked if they didn’t.”
“Let’s take the elevator to the lobby,” Josie said. “There must be a courtyard or something like that off the main floor.”
“Good plan,” I said, then looked at Chef Claire. “Are you all set?”
“Let’s do this,” she said. “You guys get out and take a door. I’ll hand you two leads each.”
“Got it,” I said, climbing out of the car. I opened one of the back doors, and Chef Claire handed me the leads attached to Al and Dente. Both Goldens effortlessly hopped out of the car and sat quietly at my feet. “Look at these two,” I said, amazed by how well they’d been trained. “Who’s the good dogs?”
Captain and Chloe, apparently worried they were either going to be left behind in the car or that they were missing something, scrambled around in the back seat and ended up and draped across Chef Claire’s lap with their leads tangled.
“Smooth,” Josie said, shaking her head at both of them. “Chef Claire, why don’t you get out and grab your guys? Suzy and I will see if we can get Null and Void out of the car without them strangling themselves.”
Chef Claire laughed and slid out from underneath Captain and Chloe. I handed her both leads then leaned into the backseat and untangled the leads. I handed Captain’s to Josie then waited for Chloe to hop down out of the car, her tail wagging furiously. I closed the back door, waited for Josie to do the same, then locked the car. We headed for the elevator with the dogs leading the way and soon found ourselves in the lobby. We ended up there because that was the only floor the elevator from the parking garage stopped on. I noticed a security guard sitting nearby behind a desk and approached him.