The Case of the Lovable Labs

by B R Snow

  “I can’t believe the cops are going along with it,” Chef Claire said.

  “Actually, they’re still talking it over,” I said. “They’re a bit…unsure at the moment.”

  My mother snorted again.

  “That’s a very annoying habit, Mom.”

  “Is faking the guy’s death even legal?” Chef Claire said.

  “We’re not faking his death,” I snapped. “We’re faking his life.”

  “Well, sure,” Josie said. “Since you put it that way, that changes everything.”

  “Why do I even bother?” I said, removing my feet from the desk and sitting upright in my chair.

  “Suzy,” Josie said, turning philosophical. “I’ll be the first person to admit, from time to time in the past, I’ve had some problems with some of your more outrageous ideas. Should I take a few moments to recount some of my personal favorites?”

  “That won’t be necessary,” I said through clenched teeth.

  “And when I have had problems with your theories or subsequent actions, I’ve always tried my best to discuss my concerns with you in a calm, measured fashion.”

  “Calm and measured? I must have dozed off during that part of the conversation,” I said, glaring at her.

  “We can sit here and debate that point all day, but, nonetheless, I feel the need to ask you a very important question,” Josie said.

  “You can lose the tone and attitude, Josie. I’m not a three-year-old.”

  “Current evidence to the contrary, I will concede the point,” Josie said.

  Chef Claire and my mother snorted again. I bit my bottom lip and waited for the surge of anger to pass.

  “What’s your question?” I said, taking a few deep breaths.

  “At the risk of repeating myself,” Josie said, leaning forward. “Are you out of your freaking mind?”

  “I think it’s the work of a genius,” I said, transitioning into a full-on pout. “It’s a brilliant plan.”

  “Laying in a hospital bed and waiting for a psychopath to shove a cyanide capsule down your throat with her tongue?”

  “Yes.”

  Josie glanced back and forth at my mother and Chef Claire.

  “Einstein would be so proud,” Chef Claire said.

  “Snoopmeister equals idiot times energy expended squared?” Josie said.

  “Yeah, but I’m not sure I could do the math,” Chef Claire deadpanned.

  “I just don’t understand why everyone is being so negative about this. And if it doesn’t work, no harm, no foul, right?”

  “Apart from the fact that you’ll be lying to Jill’s family,” my mother said.

  “Mom, for the tenth time, the guy is already dead,” I said, then my voice trailed off to a whisper. “They just won’t know that for a few days.”

  “Did you speak with Jill yet?” Josie said.

  “Yeah, they’re on their way back,” I said.

  “Did you tell her the truth?” Josie said.

  “Of course,” I said. “I told her everything.”

  “So, she knows her father is dead?” my mother said.

  “Yes.”

  “And you told her about your plan to catch the killer?” Josie said.

  “I did.”

  “And?”

  “She thinks I’m nuts, too,” I said, shrugging. “But she finally agreed to go along with it.”

  “That poor girl,” my mother said.

  “They weren’t close at all,” I said. “But it’s still really tough to lose your dad.”

  “Yes, it is,” my mother said. “But my sympathy was in reference to the fact that she has to work for you.”

  “Mom, would you please stop?” I snapped. “I’m way out on a limb as it is.”

  “Yes, young lady, you certainly are,” she said, her voice rising. “And apparently determined to saw the limb off while you’re still sitting on it.”

  I’d gotten the dreaded young lady out of her. It was time to change directions.

  “Mom, I was wondering if I could borrow your pontoon boat,” I said.

  “You want to borrow the pontoon boat?” she said, confused. “Are you planning a party?”

  “I thought it might be a good time to take all the women out for a nice relaxing day on the River.”

  “Here we go,” Josie said, shaking her head.

  “I can’t wait to hear this,” Chef Claire said.

  “Since all of the women are sticking around for a few days, I thought it would be a nice idea if we invited them to spend the day cruising around. You know, to help them take their minds off the recent tragedies. We can pack a nice lunch, have a few drinks, take the dogs along for a swim.”

  “And get all the suspects in one place just to make sure they all hear the same version of whatever cover story you decide to use, right?” my mother said.

  “You know me so well,” I said, forcing a smile at her.

  “Why am I seeing a whole bunch of lawsuits flashing before my eyes?” my mother said, staring up at the ceiling.

  “Nobody is going to get sued, Mom,” I said, doing my best to sound positive. But I made a mental note to check and make sure my personal liability policy was current. “Just remember we’re trying to catch a murderer who has already killed two people.”

  “And your idea is to go out on the River with the killer and a bunch of potential additional victims?” Josie said.

  “Nobody is going to get killed on the boat,” I said, frowning. “We’ll just be planting a few seeds.” I glanced around at all three of them. “So, who’s in?”

  “Oh, count me in,” Josie said, nodding. “This I gotta see.”

  “I’m in,” Chef Claire said. “This is one of those stories I’m going to want to tell my grandchildren.”

  “Oh, how I wish that were possible,” my mother whispered.

  “Don’t start, Mom, okay? Not today,” I said. “Would you like to join us?”

  “A day on the River with the Cyanide Killer?” my mother said. “Who could refuse an offer like that?”

  Chapter 14

  Sammy and Jill arrived home early the next afternoon, worn out, worried, and wondering aloud what the heck might happen next. Josie and I met them at C’s for lunch, and the hostess escorted us to my mother’s private table in a secluded corner of the dining room. Jill’s eyes were red and puffy, and Sammy watched her closely, obviously concerned by how much pain his new bride was in.

  “I’m so sorry, Jill,” I said, squeezing her hand in support.

  “Yeah, I can’t imagine what you’re going through,” Josie said. “Not much of a honeymoon, huh?”

  “They don’t get much shorter,” Sammy said, forcing a sad smile. “But we did get a chance to take a look around the airport and get a whiff of what we think was the ocean.”

  “Well, don’t worry,” I said. “We’re going to fix that just as soon as we can. And when you head back to Cayman, you’ll be going on a charter. My treat.”

  “And you’ll be extending the honeymoon to two weeks,” Josie said. “Not that it makes much difference at the moment given everything you’re dealing with.”

  Sammy and Jill glanced at each other. Jill grabbed his hand and continued to grip it tight on top of the table.

  “So, let me see if I’ve got this straight,” Sammy said, frowning. “Jill’s dad is dead, but you’re telling everybody that he’s in a coma and has a good chance of making a full recovery?”

  “Yes,” I said, nodding.

  “And you’re convinced that the killer is going to come back and try to finish the job?” he said, slowly talking his way through his thoughts.

  “Yes, we are,” I said.

  Josie snorted.

  “Okay,” I said. “I’m convinced. Josie is still on the fence.”

  “Oh, I’m not even close to the fence,” Josie said, picking up a menu and studying it. “I’m standing in a beautiful meadow miles away.” She glanced up. “That’s on the logic and reason side of the
fence in case you were wondering.”

  “I think I agree with Josie,” Sammy said. “Your plan sounds kind of-”

  “Goofy,” Josie said, refocusing on the menu. “Personally, I prefer clinically insane, but I got outvoted.”

  “Shut it.”

  “My dad was poisoned the same way that Roger was?” Jill said, frowning across the table at me.

  “That’s what it looks like,” I said. “We should get some lab results back soon.”

  “It has to be Faith,” Jill said, nervously drumming the fingers of her free hand on the table. “She hated our dad.” She exhaled loudly. “But it’s not like I was very fond of him, either.”

  “But why would she do that now?” I said. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Instead of trying to think her way through problems, Faith goes through life reacting. It’s like she never learned that it’s possible for human beings to insert the ability to choose in between a stimulus and her response. You saw her in action at the wedding.”

  “Did you hear anything specific from her or your dad on your wedding day?” I said.

  “No, just the usual stuff,” Jill said, shaking her head. “Faith was whining about how nobody understood everything she was going through. The problems she’s always had to deal with. Blah, blah, blah, woe is me. She’s such a narcissist. And then my dad started going off at one point about what a pain my mom was. Then he got all maudlin about how short life was and how important it was to make the right choices. But I figured that was just the booze talking.”

  “What sort of choices was he referring to?” I said, leaning forward.

  “I’m sure he was talking about women,” Jill said. “Apart from history, they were the only thing in life he ever had any real interest in exploring.”

  “He and I were talking at the reception, and he started bragging about some young student he was hooking up with,” Sammy said, frowning. “He got pretty specific. I was really uncomfortable having that sort of conversation with my father-in-law, but it didn’t seem to bother him at all.”

  “Was he talking about the woman who was working at the reception?” I said.

  Sammy and Jill glanced at each other, then stared at me.

  “What on earth are you talking about?” Jill said.

  I took a few minutes to explain what we knew about Jessie, the woman who worked for the catering company. Soon, it became clear they didn’t have a clue what or who I was talking about.

  “My father managed to get his girlfriend, one of his students, assigned to work our reception?”

  “No, we think it was a total coincidence,” I said. “But we’ll confirm it with her tomorrow on the boat.”

  “You invited her?” Jill said.

  “Yeah, just in case it turns out she’s somehow involved,” I said, shrugging. “It’s a total stretch, but it can’t hurt, right?”

  “I guess,” Jill said, rubbing her forehead. “So, there’s a good chance I’m going to be spending the day on the River with my father’s killer?”

  “Yes, I think it’s almost a certainty,” I said, finally picking up my menu.

  “I’m not comfortable with that idea at all, Suzy,” Sammy said. “How do you know the killer isn’t going to try again tomorrow on the boat?”

  “It doesn’t fit the pattern,” I said, shaking my head. “Whoever killed Roger and Jill’s dad was very cautious about not getting caught.”

  “Apart from the fact that you heard her in the men’s bathroom with Roger?” Josie said. “That doesn’t sound very cautious to me.”

  “That was a calculated risk,” I said, waving it off. “No, we’re dealing with someone who is trying to fly way under the radar and probably plans on getting back to her former life just as soon as the dust settles.”

  My neurons flared, and I flinched.

  “Are you okay?” Jill said, closely studying my expression.

  I lowered my head and rubbed my temples. Josie reached into her bag and tossed a bottle of Advil across the table.

  “Thanks,” I said, swallowing three with a sip of water.

  “Don’t mind her,” Josie said, tossing the bottle back into her bag. “Just give her a minute.”

  “Migraine?” Sammy said.

  “No, neuron overload,” I said, grimacing. Then I blinked and focused on Jill. “Your two aunts.”

  “What about them?”

  “Were they around much when you were a kid?”

  “Sure, until my parents got divorced. Up until then, both families lived close to each other and were very tight, But after the divorce, it was like everybody had to choose sides. When my mom decided to move, some folks on both sides of the family also decided to get out of New Hampshire.”

  “And your two aunts didn’t spend much time in New Hampshire after that?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” Jill said. “They both hated my dad, and I think their affairs with Roger were over. No, wait. That’s not right. My Aunt Charlotte’s affair with Roger didn’t start until long after the divorce.”

  “Which one is she again?” Josie said, dredging a piece of Italian bread in olive oil.

  “My mom’s sister,” Jill said. “You think she might be involved in this?”

  “Not necessarily,” I said, rubbing my forehead. “I need to eat something.” I grabbed a piece of bread and dipped it in the oil. I chewed slowly and tried to force my thoughts down a coherent path. “I’m just trying to sort out the timelines so we might be able to eliminate some of the potential suspects.”

  “Who have you been able to eliminate?” Sammy said.

  “Well, there’s you and Jill,” I said, dipping another piece of bread in the olive oil.

  “It’s a start,” Josie said, laughing. “And there’s you, your mom, and me and Chef Claire.”

  “The jury is still out on you,” I said.

  “Funny,” she said, making a face at me. “I wasn’t even thinking about the Kamikaze Kids. That is an interesting thought, Snoopmeister.”

  “Did you know that your Aunt Charlotte and your dad also had something going on between them?” I said to Jill.

  “Where did you hear that?”

  “Your Aunt Trudy mentioned it between Kamikazes,” I said.

  “I never heard about it,” she said, shaking her head. “But I wouldn’t put it past either one of them.”

  “Your family is like a bunch of rabbits,” Josie said, glancing over at Jill. “No offense.”

  “None taken,” Jill said. “That was just one more reason on a long list why I got as far away from them as soon as I could.”

  “Fluffle,” I said softly, still trying to organize my thoughts.

  “What?” Josie said, frowning at me.

  “A group of rabbits is called a fluffle.”

  “It is?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I did not know that,” Josie said. “So, Jill’s family members on both sides indiscriminately jumping into bed with each other is what’s caused all this ker-fluffle?”

  “Nice try. The word you’re looking for is kerfuffle.”

  “Yeah, but mine’s funnier.”

  “Don’t start.”

  “Oh, it’s way too late to be worrying about that,” Josie said. “What time are we heading out tomorrow?”

  “I told everyone to meet us at Rooster’s at noon,” I said. “Your schedule looked open in the afternoon. That reminds me. Would you mind helping out at the Inn tomorrow, Sammy? I know you’re supposed to be on your honeymoon, and I hate asking.”

  “Not a problem. Compared with your day, being surrounded by dogs sounds pretty good.”

  “Thanks,” I said, then turned to Josie. “You’re okay with that, right?”

  “I told Missy I’d take a look at her labs in the morning. She says they’re due for their final round of vaccines. I also want to get them started on their heartworm regimen. And then I have a spaying scheduled at ten. But, yeah, noon works for me.”

  “I know i
t does,” I said. “That’s why I told everyone we were leaving at twelve.”

  “You are in a mood, aren’t you?” Josie said.

  “I’m just nervous,” I said. “I’m not exactly sure what I’ve gotten myself into.”

  “Well, don’t worry about it,” Josie said, sitting back in her chair as our server approached. “If the guinea pig thing doesn’t work out for you, I’m sure something else will turn up.”

  I stared at Josie, knowing she wasn’t done. I sat back in my chair and waited.

  “Crash test dummy comes to mind.”

  Chapter 15

  It was overcast when the sun first began making its way above the horizon, but by mid-morning, the clouds had burned off, and it was one of those perfect spring days that was filled with the promise of summer. I’d been up since five, not because I was that much of an early-riser, but due to the fact that my neuron-induced headache had continued unabated since the previous day. But as I sat outside on the porch staring out at the water sipping coffee and enjoying the company of all seven dogs, my headache began to subside, and I was able to start organizing my thoughts for the day. I glanced down at Chloe and Captain who were both sound asleep on my feet and smiled at the idea that as long as both dogs could be in contact with even a tiny spot on their human companions, they felt content and safe. Missy’s three labs were also sound asleep and tucked tight against Dente, Chef Claire’s female Golden, whose maternal instincts had surfaced in a major way as soon as the three puppies had arrived. Al, the male Golden, was keeping a watchful on things as he groomed himself. He caught me watching him, got to his feet, and dropped his head in my lap. I stroked it gently as I pondered our upcoming day on the St. Lawrence.

  My plan was to take the boat across the main channel, then spend most of the day drifting in the calm water of the Lake of the Isles. The water was still too cold for any normal person to swim in, but I knew the dogs would love it. Apart from getting drenched every time the dogs got out of the water and shook, I really wasn’t worried about anything bad happening while we were out on the boat. In fact, although the killer would probably be in close proximity all day, I was very much looking forward to being out on the water. And despite the fact that my mother’s party boat could finish fifth in a four-vessel race, it was incredibly comfortable, and we borrowed it every chance we got when we wanted to go out on the River with a group of friends and their dogs.