by B R Snow
“Yeah, it probably does. But that doesn’t make it any less true. Besides, she’ll be staying with her sister the rest of the week, and her husband is going to meet her at the show. As long as she pays attention to what’s going on around her, she should be fine, right?”
“I guess,” I said, glancing up at the sky. “I wish this weather would make up its mind. Schizophrenic is definitely the right word for it. It’s supposed to go back into the sixties this afternoon.”
“But the wind is supposed to kick up, and it’ll probably be too cold to take the boat out. But I wouldn’t mind tooling around later in your new car.”
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” I said, staring with pride at the SUV.
“It certainly is. And I won’t have to worry about getting soaked or falling through the floorboards every time I get in it.”
“Don’t start. Did I tell you the owner of the dealership said that it was a pleasure dealing with a woman who actually knew what she wanted?”
“I hope you had the appropriate gender conversation with him,” she said, laughing.
“I did.”
“And?”
“And he agreed to knock three grand off the sticker price.”
“Well done. I hope you handled the negotiation in a very manly fashion.”
“I did,” I said, giving her a quick smile before heading back inside my head. “I still can’t believe they didn’t show up last night.”
“Jackson’s screams probably scared them off.”
“Yeah, that could have been a very bad situation,” I said, still cringing every time I thought about the dog shaking Jackson’s leg like it was a chew toy.
“Rooster needs to put up a sign on his dock next summer,” Josie said. “Something like; Complain about my gas prices at your own risk.”
“I was so sure they were in that storage area in the arena.”
“Suzy, it’s way too early in the day for you to start obsessing.”
“Sure, sure,” I said. “I was absolutely certain they were there.”
“I know you were. But I was never quite convinced,” Josie said.
“Really? You should have said something.”
Josie stopped walking and stared at me in disbelief.
“You’re unbelievable,” she said.
“What?”
“You don’t remember my rather vociferous protests at the time?”
“I thought you were just demonstrating another aspect of your delightful personality.”
“Okay, Dr. Freud,” she said. “I’m done with this conversation. I’m going to head inside and talk to the wall in my office.”
“I think I’m in a slump,” I said.
“And you’re trying to think your way out of it?”
“Yes.”
“Well, do me a favor and try to do it without talking.”
I held the door open for her and we went to check in on the Lab puppy that was sleeping peacefully on a thick bed in one of the condos. Josie stepped inside and knelt down and scratched one of the puppy’s ears. She opened her eyes and began licking Josie’s hand.
“So, you’re feeling a bit better today, huh?” she said, gently rolling the puppy onto her back to examine the bandage and stitches. “What a good girl.”
“How does she look?” I said, peering inside the condo.
“She’s going to be just fine,” Josie said, climbing to her feet.
“Now that is the definition of delightful,” I said, staring down at the Lab that had rolled over on her own and gone back to sleep.
Josie laughed and playfully waved me away as she headed for her office. I continued along the line of condos to say good morning to the rest of our dogs and immediately began to feel better.
Chapter 24
Stuffed to the gills, I pushed my plate away and groaned. I grabbed my glass of carbonated water, took a long drink, and leaned back in my chair. I gently pressed my hand against my stomach then burped loudly. Josie and Chef Claire both stared at me.
“Really? At the dinner table?” Josie said. “Very ladylike.”
“Pardon me,” I said. “Sorry, but I couldn’t help it.”
“If your mother could only see you now,” Chef Claire said, laughing.
“This is all your fault,” I said to Chef Claire.
“How is your complete lack of self-control my fault?” she said, also pushing her plate away. “I somehow managed to stop after two helpings.”
“You know what always happens when you make that gumbo.”
“Yeah. You eat too much, and then you whine,” Chef Claire said.
“I’m not whining,” I said, taking another gulp of my fizzy water. “By the way, it was delicious. Thank you.”
“What happened to your pre-Grand Cayman fitness campaign?” Josie said. “You’ve only got three weeks left.”
“I’m still on it,” I said, protesting weakly. “I’ve been walking every day.”
“Yeah, to the fridge,” Josie deadpanned.
“Shut up.”
“It’s my turn to do dishes,” Josie said. “Why don’t you guys get settled in and see if you can find a movie worth watching?”
Josie carried a stack of plates into the kitchen as Chef Claire and I headed for the living room. The dogs greeted us, and Chloe hopped up onto one of the couches and waited for me to join her. I tossed a couple of pieces of wood on the fire then stretched out. Chloe draped herself across my legs.
“Mama ate too much,” I said, stroking her head.
“Here’s one about a family that inherits a haunted house then starts mysteriously disappearing one by one,” Chef Claire said, holding the remote as she reviewed the channel menu.
“That works for me.”
I closed my eyes and was about to doze off when Josie came in the living room and stretched out on the floor to wrestle with Captain. Then she sat with her back against the couch and the dog draped across her lap.
“Is ever going to stop growing?” I said, admiring the massive Newfie.
“I think he’s almost done,” Josie said, maneuvering some of Captain’s weight off her legs. “And it’s about time. He’s been at a hundred and forty pounds for a couple weeks now.”
“And thinks he’s still a puppy,” I said. “Don’t you, Captain?”
He looked up at me and thumped his tail against the floor.
“You guys ready to start the movie?” Chef Claire said.
“Could you put it on the local news for a minute?” Josie said. “I want to check the weather. They’re talking about rain tomorrow, and we might want to adjust our morning schedule. I’d love to avoid having to deal with another bunch of muddy dogs if at all possible.”
“You and me both,” I said, remembering the rainstorm the day of the memorial service that had turned the outside play area into a muddy quagmire for a couple of days.
Chef Claire changed channels, and we watched the end of the sports report. Then the commercials started.
“We’ve got a few minutes before the weather comes on,” Chef Claire said. “Let’s see what’s going on in the rest of the world.”
She changed channels to a national news network, and we immediately saw dozens of flashing lights and cop cars surrounding a rainy intersection.
“Oh, no,” Chef Claire said. “Something’s happened.”
“Terror attack?” I said.
“Let’s hope not,” Josie said.
We listened carefully as we tried to pick up the thread of the conversation. When we heard the reporter with a thick Boston accent mention a dog show, we all sat upright and looked at each other with stunned expressions before refocusing on the TV.
“Here’s what we know, Mary,” the on the scene reporter said as the water poured off the hood of his rain slicker. “About an hour ago, renowned breeder and dog show judge, Alexandra Vincent, and her husband, Harold, were crossing a street near their hotel when they were struck and killed by a hit and run driver.”
“Oh, n
o,” Josie whispered.
“I can’t believe it,” I said, immediately tearing up.
“Mrs. Vincent was in town to judge a dog show being held this weekend in Brookline and the accident occurred just after 8 PM local time when the couple was apparently on their way to a nearby restaurant when a car roared through a red light at a high rate of speed. Police sources say they were both probably killed instantly. Since it has been raining most of the day, foot traffic on the street was very light, and the police have only identified two witnesses. So far, they have been unable to provide any details other than saying that everything happened very fast and that the vehicle never slowed down even after striking the couple. As such, both the driver and the vehicle involved remain unknown at this time. And we’ve also just learned that the Vincent’s prized dogs, two Golden Retrievers that are frequently featured in various magazines and seen in numerous television commercials, are missing.”
Chef Claire lowered the volume, and we sat in stunned silence for several seconds. All three of us fought back the tears as we tried to process what we’d just heard.
“A hit and run accident?” Josie said. “I’m not buying it.”
“It wasn’t an accident,” I said. “If it were an accident, the dogs wouldn’t be missing.”
“I guess she didn’t take our advice to hire some security,” Chef Claire said. “I can’t believe she’s gone.”
“What do you think?” Josie said.
“I think we should have pushed her a bit harder to take the threat seriously,” I said, wiping my eyes.
“Don’t even try to go there, Suzy,” Josie said, also fighting her emotions. “This is not our fault. And it was a hit and run. How would you ever prepare for something like that?”
“I know. But still.”
“What should we do?” Chef Claire said.
“What can we do?” I said. “Apart from finding out where the service is going to be held and send flowers.”
I exhaled loudly and Chloe, sensing my sadness, nuzzled my arm. My phone buzzed, and I answered it immediately.
“This is Suzy. Hey, Chief. Yeah, we just watched it.” I rubbed my forehead as I listened closely. “Thanks, Chief. Yeah, we’ll be fine.” I tossed my phone aside. “When Chief heard what happened, he called an old buddy who’s with the Boston police to see if he could get any more details.”
“And?” Josie said.
“It was pretty much what we saw on the news. Dark, rainy, empty streets. Nobody saw anything. Chief’s buddy said that they would have to get very lucky identifying who hit them.”
“They’re going to get away with murder?” Chef Claire said.
“It certainly looks that way,” I said.
“Did he mention the dogs?” Josie said.
“Just that they were missing from the hotel,” I said.
“After they ran them down, they went back to the hotel for the dogs?” Josie said.
“Maybe. Or they split up, and one drove the car while the other stole the dogs,” I said, shrugging.
“This is too weird,” Chef Claire said. “I know those dogs are amazing, but who would kill two people just to get their hands on them?”
“I have no idea,” I said, wiping my eyes with a tissue. “But I think we’ve seen the last of Lucky and Lucy.” Then I caught the wide-eyed stares they were giving me. “No, I don’t mean that. I’m sure they’re not going to hurt them, but I doubt if we’ll see them in any more dog shows or on TV.”
“But they’ll still be breeding them,” Josie said.
“Yeah, that’s my guess. And Lucky will be fine since he’s a male. But I don’t like Lucy’s chances once she’s all used up and can’t produce any more litters.”
“Is there any way we could track them down?” Chef Claire said.
“Geez, that’s a real long shot. We eventually located the owner of that Dandie Dinmont we found, but we had to get very lucky in the process. And there are only a couple of hundred Dandie puppies born each year. There are over fifty thousand new Goldens annually.”
“At least,” Josie said, nodding. “We’d never find them. I wouldn’t even know where to start. Especially since the people who stole them will be doing everything they can to stay out of sight.”
“This is so sad. And just think about how close I came to losing Al and Dente,” Chef Claire said, glancing around. “Hey, wait a minute. Where’s Al?”
Chef Claire hopped off the couch and looked around the room before she spotted Al behind my couch.
“What have you got there, Al?” Chef Claire said.
I glanced over the back of the couch and did my best not to laugh. Al had a leather bag tucked under his front legs and was grasping it with both front paws as he chewed his way through the thick strap. He paused long enough to look up at us with a guilty look on his face, then went back to work on the strap.
“No,” Chef Claire said, snatching the bag out of Al’s paws. “Bad dog, Al. Bad dog.”
“Say it like you mean it,” Josie said, laughing.
“I’m trying,” Chef Claire said, giggling. “But did you see the look he gave me?”
“You’re a soft touch,” Josie said, then looked at Al. “What are we going to do with you?”
“I’m sorry, Josie,” Chef Claire said. “I’ll pay you for the bag.”
“It’s not my bag,” she said, shaking her head.
“It’s not mine,” I said when Chef Claire looked at me. “I bet it’s Alexandra’s. The day she left, she said she was sure she forgot something.”
“I wonder where he found it,” Chef Claire said.
“I just cleaned the guest bedroom yesterday,” I said. “But I suppose it could have been under the bed.”
“That would explain the dust bunnies,” Josie said.
“Don’t start.”
Chef Claire examined the contents of the bag and extracted a thick folder she took a quick glance at.
“It’s hers. This folder is all dog show stuff.”
“Just toss it on the table and on Monday we’ll send it off to Alexandra’s sister in Saratoga,” I said.
Chef Claire set the bag down on the dining room table. Al eyed the bag carefully, then looked up at Chef Claire and cocked his head.
“Al, don’t even think about it,” Chef Claire said, glancing down at the dog.
Al woofed once at her, then trotted back into the living room and pounced on Dente. Within seconds, they were rolling around on the floor.
“What a little monster,” Chef Claire said, returning to the couch. “Do you think he’ll ever grow out of it?”
“Apart from the chewing,” Josie said. “I sure hope not.”
“Yeah, he is pretty special, isn’t he?”
We watched Al turn his attention to Captain who was still draped over Josie’s legs and sound asleep. Al grabbed one of Captain’s ears and tugged at it. Captain slowly opened his eyes, then draped a paw over Al and pinned him to the floor. Al struggled free, snarled playfully at Captain, then trotted off and returned a few minutes later with one of Josie’s shoes. He stood a few feet away from her, just out of reach, and taunted her as he gently held the shoe in his mouth.
“Drop it, Al,” Josie said, then started laughing. “Did you see that? He just shook his head at me.” She composed herself, then said sternly, “Don’t make me get my scissors, Al.”
Al immediately dropped the shoe and stretched out at Chef Claire’s feet with his head propped up on his front paws.
“Wow, that was pretty amazing. When did you teach him that?” Chef Claire said.
“We’ve been working on it for a couple of days,” Josie said. “I got the idea from Alexandra when I saw how Lucky responded to the word clinic.”
“Only a couple of days?” I said. “Smart dog.”
“Yes, he is,” Josie said. “And a little nervous.”
Chapter 25
I was chatting with Sammy and Jill at reception bright and early on Monday morning when the front
door opened and Rooster entered, trailed closely by Titan. Both of them had gotten drenched on the short walk from the parking lot, and Titan was limping and favoring his left front paw. Titan shook and sprayed water in several directions. Rooster didn’t shake, but a small pool of water did collect at his feet. I tossed Rooster a towel expecting him to use it on himself, but he started drying the German shepherd with it. Then he glanced around looking for somewhere to put the soaked towel, and I pointed at a bin we’d put in the corner.
“Sorry about the mess,” Rooster said, tossing the towel into the bin.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, kneeling down to pet Titan. “After two days of this, we’re getting pretty used to it.”
“Speak for yourself,” Sammy said, swabbing the floor with a mop.
“I think Titan nicked his front paw on something,” Rooster said, stepping to one side to give Sammy more room. “I couldn’t find anything, but he’s been favoring it since last night.”
“Poor guy,” I said, stroking the shepherd’s head. “Jill, can you text Josie and ask her to come out?”
Jill sent the message, and Josie soon emerged from the condo area scowling.
“Anybody want to buy a hundred and forty pound Newfie?” she said. “He’s going cheap today.”
“He rolled around in the mud again, didn’t he?” I said.
“Oh, yeah,” she said. “So much for the bath I gave him last night.”
“I told you to wait until it stopped raining. What can I say? He’s a water dog.”
“More like a mud dog at the moment,” Josie said. “Hey, Rooster. How are you doing?”
“I’m good. But I think Titan picked something up in his front paw. I tried to take a look, but he wouldn’t let me anywhere near it.”
“I’ll take a look at it on one condition, Rooster,” Josie said. “After I start the exam, you have to agree not to yell, Go get her!”
Rooster chuckled and gently thumped Titan on the side. Titan wagged his tail at the love taps and stared up at Rooster.
“Yeah,” he said, frowning. “That could have ended badly. Fortunately, he listens to me.”
“Jill, let’s put Titan in exam room two,” Josie said.