The Case of the Natty Newfie

by B R Snow

  “I’ll let you know,” he said. “Say, how did the photos turn out?”

  “They look great,” I said. “And Naylor is coming for Thanksgiving and bringing some of the mockups with him. One more reason to drop by.”

  “Yeah, that sounds good. I gotta run,” he said, giving his ice cubes one final rattle next to the phone before ending the call.

  “She gave the money back?” Josie said, frowning at me.

  “Maybe she was just trying to make a point,” I said.

  “The point being I’m a total nut job?” Chef Claire said from the backseat.

  “Weird,” I said, shaking my head. “In that poem, she said that five hundred notes won’t kill the pain.”

  “What about it?” Josie said.

  “I originally thought it was a reference that the five hundred grand wasn’t enough money. But maybe she was talking about how money, regardless of the amount, could never make up for the loss she felt. And maybe that’s why she gave the money back.”

  “Interesting. But who was the gray voyeur?” Josie said. “I don’t get that one.”

  “Me either,” I said, glancing over at her.

  “Melinda was the gray voyeur,” Chef Claire said.

  “I’m going to need a bit more,” I said, glancing at her through the rearview mirror.

  “Me too,” Josie said, turning around in her seat.

  “Gray is a reference to her mood. Not hair color. When things stop being black and white, they often turn gray,” Chef Claire said. “And she was probably talking to herself in the mirror throughout that poem. It’s a self-reflection piece.”

  I glanced at Josie who eventually nodded, impressed.

  “That’s pretty good,” she said to Chef Claire.

  “It’s amazing,” I said. “How the heck did you figure that out?”

  “I have my moments,” Chef Claire said with a shrug.

  We made it home just before five and headed straight for the Inn. The dogs flew out of the SUV and raced to the front door and barked at us to hurry up. The reception area was empty, and Sammy and Jill entered from the condo area.

  “Hey, you made it,” Jill said, heading toward us then coming to a stop a few feet away. “Are you guys still contagious?”

  “No, we’re good,” Josie said, reaching out to give both of them hugs. “No thanks to Suzy.”

  I made a face at her then turned back to Sammy and Jill.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Things are great,” Sammy said. “We just fed and watered the gang, and they’re about to head out to take care of their business.”

  “Thanks, guys,” I said, glancing back and forth at them.

  “Yeah, great job,” Josie said. “Why don’t we go say hi to the dogs, then head up to the house?”

  “Perfect,” I said, glancing around. “It’s so nice to be home.”

  “It is,” Chef Claire said. “How about I take the bruisers up to the house and get started on dinner?”

  “What are you gonna make?” Josie said, cocking her head at Chef Claire.

  “Josie, you haven’t eaten a solid meal in three days. Is it really going to matter what I make?”

  “Good point.”

  After two days of hanging around the house with the dogs, we were finally fully-recovered and ready for Thanksgiving. We headed to the restaurant just after six in the morning, and Chef Claire put us to work immediately chopping vegetables for side dishes and the stuffing. By nine, the kitchen was filled with a wide range of amazing smells and Josie and I had to fight hard to maintain our concentration. By noon, the dining room was packed with local residents, and we stood behind the buffet table watching and listening to the hum of the conversations interspersed with laughter.

  “This is nice,” I said, glancing over at Josie.

  “It is,” she said, reaching for a slice of turkey before looking around the crowded dining room. “I think it’s my favorite day of the year. And not just because there’s a ton of food.”

  “I know what you mean,” I said, then saw my mother and Paulie heading our way. “Hey, Mom. Paulie. Happy Thanksgiving.”

  “Same to you, darling,” my mother said, giving both of us hugs and kisses on the cheek.

  “Are you ready to eat?”

  “No, we’re going to wait for the second seating,” she said. “But we thought we’d stop by early to help out.”

  “You have your choice of serving dessert or helping Max with dishes in the kitchen,” I said.

  My mother glanced over at Paulie with a small smile.

  “I’ll be in the kitchen with Max if you’re looking for me,” he said, heading off.

  “There are John and Jennifer,” I said, waving to the couple who were standing at the entrance to the dining room.

  I eventually caught their eye, and they headed straight for us.

  “You made it,” I said. “Mom, this is John Naylor.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, John,” she said, shaking his hand. “How have you been, Jennifer?”

  “I’m doing very well, Mrs. C.,” she said, giving my mother a long hug. “You look fantastic. As always.”

  “You’re too kind. I hope all that nasty business you had to deal with is finally settling down,” my mother said.

  “Yes, it is,” Jennifer said, squeezing Naylor’s hand.

  “I smell a comeback,” my mother said.

  “I don’t know if it’s a comeback,” Jennifer said. “But something sure smells good.”

  “Would you like to eat now or wait for the second seating?” I said.

  “I think we’re going to wait,” Jennifer said, then whispered something in Naylor’s ear.

  He smiled and nodded, and they headed for the lounge waving as they walked off.

  “Mom,” I whispered, leaning in close to my mother.

  “Yes, darling?”

  “Is there anybody you don’t know?”

  “Oh, I’m sure there must be, right?” she deadpanned, then glanced at me and laughed.

  By the time the second seating was over, we had all eaten way too much, and after we said goodbye to our guests, we headed for the lounge to relax with our inner circle. Jackson, our former chief of police, was talking with Chief Abrams, our current chief, and Freddie, our local medical examiner. But instead of talking crime, they were arguing about football and watching the night game that was displayed on the screens that ringed the bar and lounge area. Max was sitting at the bar next to our good friend Rooster who was regaling my boyfriend with way too many stories about me in my younger days.

  “Wonderful job, ladies,” my mother said, patting my hand. “You made a lot of people very happy today.”

  “We love doing it, Mrs. C.,” Chef Claire said.

  “Absolutely,” Josie said, getting up from her chair. “I’m going to duck home and grab the dogs. It looks like we’ll be here for a while and they’ve been alone all day.”

  “Great idea,” Chef Claire said. “I’ll give you a hand.”

  “No, you just sit there and relax,” Josie said. “You’ve done way more than enough work for one day. I’ll be right back.”

  We watched her leave, then my mother leaned in close.

  “I take it things are still going well with you and Max,” she said.

  “Unbelievably well,” I said, glancing over at the bar.

  “Good,” she said, nodding. “I like him a lot.”

  “Me too,” I said, then glanced up when our bar manager, Millie, arrived holding three snifters that were steaming hot.

  “Rooster sent these over for you,” she said, setting the snifters down in front of us.

  “B&B, right?” I said, reaching for mine.

  “Yes. And microwaved for twenty seconds,” she said. “I thought Rooster was nuts when he asked me to do it, but it tastes amazing.”

  “Thanks, Millie,” Chef Claire said. “And thanks for agreeing to be here all day. We really appreciate it.”

  “Are you kiddin
g?” she said, laughing. “It’s the best party in town. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s a big glass of Pinot over there with my name on it.”

  “Did you guys get enough to eat?” I said, glancing over at John and Jennifer.

  “Trick question, right?” John said, shifting in his chair to get comfortable. “I was going to show you the mockups tonight, but I don’t think I can move. Let’s do it tomorrow, okay?”

  “That’s fine,” I said, fighting the fumes and taking a sip of B&B. “Did you get a chance to take a look at Melinda’s journal?”

  “I did,” he said, giving me a sad smile. “It’s amazing. I’d like to do the book as a tribute to her.”

  “Nice. You’re a good man, John.”

  “Don’t spread it around,” he said, squeezing Jennifer’s hand. “You’ll ruin my reputation as a total sleazeball.”

  A few minutes later, Josie returned with the four dogs leading the way. They all said hello to everyone then Chloe started to jump up on my lap. I gently stopped her, then she sat down at my feet, and I rubbed her head.

  “Mama is going to need a few minutes to digest,” I said.

  Chloe stretched out over my feet then started wrestling with Captain on the floor.

  “Okay, Goofball,” Josie said to Captain. “Settle down.”

  The Newfie softly woofed at her, then stretched out over her feet. Josie rubbed his head then gently thumped his side as he stared at John and Jennifer.

  “Look at him,” Jennifer said, shaking her head. “He’s magnificent.”

  “Thanks,” Josie said. “He is pretty special.”

  Captain woofed again in agreement.

  “Hey, I almost forgot,” Naylor said, reaching into his bag. “I had these made up.”

  He held up a long red scarf that was emblazoned with the Wags logo in green.

  “I thought these would look great for our Christmas ads,” he said. “We can grab some shots of the dogs wearing them tomorrow.”

  “How cute,” I said, reaching for the scarf and tying it around Chloe’s neck.

  “That’s adorable,” my mother cooed.

  “I got four of them,” Naylor said, tossing two of them to Chef Claire. “But since Captain is going to refuse to wear his, I guess you guys will have an extra one.”

  “Look at that,” Chef Claire said, beaming at Al and Dente who were very pleased with their new scarves.

  “Oh, those pictures are going to be so cute,” I said.

  We spent the next few minutes fawning over the three dogs, then Captain wandered over to Naylor and nudged his arm.

  “Well, what do you know?” Josie said, laughing.

  Captain looked up at Naylor and woofed.

  “Would you like a scarf, Captain?” Naylor said.

  Captain woofed again, this time a little louder. Naylor draped the remaining scarf around the dog’s neck then tied it. The Newfie turned, then sat down and posed for the group.

  “The Natty Newfie,” Naylor said, laughing.

  “I’m ready for my closeup, Mr. DeMille,” Josie deadpanned.

  “Unbelievable. I think he likes it,” I said, shaking my head. “Who’s ready for another drink?”

  Several hands went up, and I waved everyone back into their seats.

  “No, sit. I’ll get them,” I said.

  “I’ll give you a hand,” Josie said.

  I came up behind Max and nuzzled his neck.

  “Having fun?”

  “Yeah, I’m having a fantastic time. Rooster was just telling me about the time you fell out of the boat when you guys were fishing.”

  “Yeah, not my finest moment,” I said, frowning.

  “But it was definitely one of your funniest,” Rooster said.

  “Not even close,” Josie said. “You should have seen her on the ladder the other night swaying in the breeze.”

  Max snorted midway through a sip of B&B. He coughed and wiped his mouth, laughing the entire time.

  “Shut it. Both of you.”

  “You guys need another round over there?” Millie said.

  “Yes, please,” I said, glancing up at the one TV that didn’t have the football game on. I stared at the screen and realized I was looking at a breaking news story. “Hey, Millie. Could you please turn the volume up on that one?”

  “You’re going to watch Canadian news?” Max said, glancing back at me.

  “It looks like there’s been some sort of accident,” I said, staring up at the screen.

  “Earlier this evening, about thirty miles off the coast of Saint Thomas in the U.S. Virgin Islands, police responded to a distress call from a sailboat named The Widow Maker. Police are now reporting that Charlotte Evans, noted Ottawa socialite, apparently drowned tonight after she inexplicably decided to go for a late-night swim in shark-infested waters. She and her husband, George Theo, the well-known Canadian mining magnate, were on their honeymoon at the time of the accident. Mr. Theo, who was asleep below deck at the time of his wife’s ill-fated swim, made the distress call after he realized his wife of two days was missing. Given the late hour, Island police and the Coast Guard won’t be able to begin their search of the area until morning. When asked about the chances for a successful rescue, a police representative responded by saying the odds weren’t in their favor.”

  “That’s cop-speak for slim and none,” I said, grabbing the remote and lowering the volume.

  “Yeah,” Josie said. “Hey, didn’t you say that George told you he was the best man at her last wedding?”

  “Yup,” I said, nodding. “Her fifth husband was his best friend.” I took a sip of my B&B as I looked back up at the screen. “George, you little devil.”

  “What?” Max said, glancing over his shoulder.

  “Nothing. It’s not important.”