by B R Snow
I got up, retrieved the large canvas bag and set it down on the bed. I began removing various items.
“We got a flashlight, a set of lock picks, a box of surgical gloves, a first aid kit, a bunch of specimen cups, and a small cooler packed with dry ice and what looks like a container of liquid nitrogen,” I said, tossing the items on the bed. “Just what you need to keep everything nice and frozen.” I removed the final item from the bag, stared at it, then strongly considered the possibility of using it on Coke Bottle. “A tranquilizer gun? You were going to shoot the Mastiff?”
“Well, I sure wasn’t going to get my hands anywhere near him while he was awake,” Coke Bottle said. “Have you seen the size of that dog?”
I tossed the gun on the bed and sat back down in my chair fuming, fully prepared to step in if Rooster decided he needed a break.
“How did you end up working for Sofia Rossi?” Rooster said.
“I did a couple of jobs for her dad a few years ago,” Coke Bottle said. “He recommended me.”
“When was this?” Rooster said.
“About three months ago.”
“And your job is to steal dog semen?” Rooster said, staring at his cousin.
“Pretty much,” Coke Bottle said with a shrug as he rubbed his damaged hand.
“Your mother would be so proud,” Rooster said.
“Hey,” Coke Bottle snapped. “Ms. Rossi pays me well. And it turns out that stuff is worth a fortune.”
“What about the Otterhound?” I said.
“The otter what?” Coke Bottle said, staring at me.
At least, I think he was looking at me. Given the blood on his thick lenses and his constant blinking, it was a bit hard to tell.
“You didn’t inseminate an Otterhound a couple of months ago?” I said.
“I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about, lady,” he said, then glanced at Rooster. “Honest, Rooster. This is only my third job working for Ms. Rossi. The other two were an Aza…wakh, and some dog from Turkey called a cattle something or other.”
“Catalburun,” I said. “They’re one of the few dogs with a split nose.”
“That’s the one,” Coke Bottle said. “When I first noticed the nose, I thought I might have screwed up and done something to it.” He gave Rooster a pleading stare. “Honest, Rooster, I don’t know nothing about no Otterhound.”
Rooster stared at his cousin, then glanced over his shoulder at me.
“You believe him?” he said.
“Yeah, sadly, I think I do,” I said, as my neurons began to churn and chart a new course.
“Okay,” Rooster said, getting to his feet and walking toward the bed. He removed his gloves then fiddled with the clock that was sitting on the bedside table. “Suzy, I’m going to need you to wait in the car.”
“What are you going to do, Rooster?” I said.
“Walter and I are going to have a little chat,” Rooster said, sliding his gloves back on and rotating his head until his neck popped. “Go ahead, I won’t be long.”
“Rooster,” I said, my voice rising in warning.
“Okay, stick around if you want. But I wouldn’t recommend it.”
“Rooster, just take it easy,” Coke Bottle said. “I’ll pack my stuff and get on the road back to Florida. I promise.”
“Oh, I know you will, Walter. But you’re probably going to need a couple hours to rest up. But don’t worry, I just set the alarm for you. And I need to tell you that this is your final warning. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
“I do.”
“And after you take a little nap when we finish our chat, what are you going to do, Walter?”
“Drive straight to Florida.”
“And if you don’t?” Rooster said as if talking to a three-year-old.
“You’re gonna call the cops?”
“You should be so lucky. Now, stand up.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Rooster. I’m a little woozy.”
Rooster fired a punch I barely saw coming, and Coke Bottle rocked back in his chair. It teetered briefly, then toppled over.
“On second thought, I think I will wait in the car,” I said, heading for the door.
“Good call,” Rooster said, dragging his cousin to his feet.
I closed the door behind me and listened for about a minute before the thuds of Rooster’s punches landing and Coke Bottle’s whimpers sent me racing for the car. About five minutes later, Rooster climbed into the passenger seat and removed his gloves. He massaged his hands as he stared out the window.
“Are you okay?” I said.
“I’ll be fine.”
“I’ve never seen that side of you,” I said, glancing over at him.
“I haven’t shown it a very long time,” he said, exhaling loudly.
“Was that really necessary?”
“Unfortunately, it’s the only thing he listens to,” Rooster said, running a hand through his hair.
“You think he’s going to head back to Florida?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m positive.”
Then he exhaled again and shook his head with a sad expression etched on his face.
“Family, huh?”
“Sure, sure.”
Chapter 18
I walked into Chief Abrams’ office and felt an overpowering blast of heat. The sudden temperature change was unbearable, and I unzipped and removed my coat. The Chief was sitting behind his desk deep in thought staring down at a Scrabble board. Freddie was across from him with his feet up on the desk and obviously anxious for the Chief to make his move.
“Hey, Snoop,” Freddie said, gesturing at the chair next to his. “Have a seat.”
“I thought you were going to Miami,” I said, removing my wool toque as I sat down.
“I fly out tonight.”
“What’s going on with the heat? It has to be ninety in here,” removing my scarf and tossing it on the desk.
“I think the thermostat is broken,” the Chief said, not looking up from the board. “Billy is on his way down to take a look at it.”
“C’mon, Chief,” Freddie said. “Hurry up and make a play. I’ve got a meeting to get to.”
“You do? When?” the Chief said, glancing up briefly with a frown.
“A week from Thursday.”
“Funny,” Chief Abrams said, placing four tiles on the board. “Okay, eerie. That’s five points.”
“Ten minutes to play eerie?” Freddie said.
“I’m consonant-challenged at the moment,” the Chief said, sitting back in his chair. “What’s up, Snoopmeister?”
“I thought I’d stop by and give you an update on our trip to Scranton,” I said, watching as Freddie emptied his rack of tiles with a seven-letter word.
“Should I even bother to add that up, or do you surrender?”
“Unbelievable,” the Chief said, pushing the board away. “Sure, let’s hear the update. Anything is better than listening to him gloat. Did you find Coke Bottle?”
“We did,” I said.
“And?”
“Rooster had a little chat with him,” I said, deflecting.
“I’m sure he did,” Chief Abrams said with a small grin. “And he’s on his way back to Florida?”
“Yeah, I’d be shocked if he wasn’t. But he was trying to steal dog semen. What a strange way to make a living.”
“Maybe Coke Bottle just likes having a job where he can work with his hands,” Freddie said, glancing over at me with a grin.
“Don’t be disgusting,” I said, glaring back at him. “Isn’t there a dead body around you should be examining?”
“Thankfully, no,” he said, placing his hands behind his head. “I wrapped everything up with Skitch Friendly yesterday, and I’m happy to report that everyone else is alive and well at the moment.”
“Did you find a bullet in Friendly’s shoulder?” I said.
“I did. Standard .30-06. And there’s probably a thousand hunters around her
e who use that caliber. Why do you ask?”
“I just have this nagging feeling that Friendly’s death wasn’t an accident,” I said.
“A feeling?” Freddie said.
“Yeah.”
“Well, I guess that’s all we need, right, Chief?” Freddie said, laughing.
“Shut it,” I said, removing my sweater. “It’s like a sauna in here.”
“Did you ask Coke Bottle about the Otterhound?” the Chief said.
“We did. He said he didn’t have a clue what we were talking about,” I said. “And we believed him.”
“Then I’m going to stick with my theory. Not that I agree with you that it wasn’t an accident,” the Chief said.
“Yeah, the lease rights,” I said, nodding. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. We ran into Herman Billows a couple days ago when we were out at the Friendly’s place.”
“Did you tell him you were buying the property?” the Chief said, draping a leg over his knee.
“We did. And he wasn’t very happy about it,” I said, unbuttoning the top two buttons of my blouse.
“Should I put some music on?” Freddie said.
“What?” I said, staring at him.
“Well, if you’re going to disrobe, I thought you might like to do it to music,” Freddie said, grinning and shaking his shoulders. “You know, a little boom, chicka-boom, chicka, boom-boom-boom.”
“What is wrong with you?” I said, dumbfounded.
“Early winter funk, I imagine,” he said with a shrug. “You should see me in February.”
“I’ve seen you in February. And that’s why I winter in Grand Cayman.”
“So, what’s your plan from here?” the Chief said after he’d stopped laughing.
“I have no idea,” I said. “I’m stuck.”
“That’s probably because you’re chasing ghosts on this one,” the Chief said. “Sometimes things are just accidents.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” I said. “Unless Billows tips his hand and gives us something to work with, I guess we’ll just wait for the Otterhound to deliver then head to Cayman.” Then my neurons flared. “But somebody inseminated that dog. It’s driving me crazy.”
“Try not to overthink it,” the Chief said.
Freddie snorted. I shot him a dirty look but remained silent.
“Did your mom and Paulie get out?” the Chief said.
“Yeah, she called yesterday when they landed,” I said. “She said they were going for a walk on the beach and then spend the rest of the day snuggling by the pool. It’s eighty there today.”
“Nice,” the Chief said, glancing up at the clock on the wall. “Almost lunchtime. Do you know what Chef Claire is serving for today’s special?”
“She’s doing her stroganoff,” I said, feeling my stomach rumble. “I’m heading over there from here. Want to join us?”
“Of course,” the Chief said, getting up from his chair. “Who else is coming?”
“Just Rooster and Josie at the moment.”
“Mind if I tag along?” Freddie said.
“You promise to behave yourself?” I said, cocking my head at him.
“You know I can’t do that,” he said, laughing.
“I’ll see you guys there,” I said, pulling on my sweater and scarf then my coat and hat and heading out the door.
Two minutes later, I met them in the parking lot behind the restaurant, and we entered through the back door. Chef Claire was in front of one of the stoves adding the final touches to a large pot. I picked up a strong whiff of wine and garlic as I approached to give her a hug.
“It smells fantastic,” I said, peering into the pot.
“Yeah, I think it’s going to be a good batch,” Chef Claire said, waving to the men. “Hey, guys. How’s it going?”
“Not as good as it’s going to be in a few minutes,” the Chief said, staring at the pot. “Are you serving it with the egg noodles?”
“I am,” she said, stirring. “Rooster and Josie are in the lounge.”
That was her nice way of saying get out of the kitchen, so I nodded for the Chief and Freddie to follow me.
“The door on the right,” Chef Claire said without turning around.
“Everybody’s a comedian,” I said, heading for the lounge.
Josie and Rooster were sipping hot cider at the bar and chatting with Millie. I glanced around and waved to a small group of friends who were sitting in front of the fire. I sat down next to Josie and nodded at Millie when she held up a mug of the cider. I slipped my coat off then took a sip.
“How’s Gabby doing?”
“She seems a bit closer today,” Josie said. “But nothing yet.”
“I guess the pups just aren’t ready to come out,” I said.
“In this weather, who can blame them?” Josie said, shrugging.
“Yeah. I’m so ready to get out of here,” I said. “Oh, I completely forgot to mention something.”
Josie swiveled her stool ninety degrees and waited for me to continue.
“My mother has decided against building the zoo behind the Inn.”
“Good call on her part,” Josie said, sipping her cider. “We’ve got more than enough on our plate as it is.”
“Yeah,” I said with a tentative frown.
“What?”
“My mom wants to turn the land over to us.”
“Oh, I don’t think I’m going to like where this is going,” she said, setting her mug down on the bar.
“No, it’s not bad,” I said. “In fact, I kinda like the idea.”
“What is it?”
“She wants us to expand,” I said. “Turn the Inn into a regional operation, and open our services up to handle all sorts of different animals who are injured or need rescuing.”
Josie rubbed her forehead as she gave it some serious thought. Eventually, she took another sip and exhaled.
“I guess my first question is why does she want to do that?”
“I’m not sure,” I said. “But I think it might have something to do with her legacy.”
“Can’t she just give the library a couple hundred grand and ask them to put her name up in lights?”
I laughed loud enough to get the attention of everyone in the lounge.
“Gee, I don’t know, Suzy,” Josie said, shaking her head. “That would be a huge project. Not to mention what it would cost.”
“She’s offering to pay for it,” I said. “If we agree to set it up as a non-profit.”
“And put her name on it?” Josie said.
“That hasn’t come up yet,” I said, laughing. “But give her time.”
“Between buying the Friendly’s place to keep fracking out and setting up a regional rescue program, one might wonder if she’s starting to put her affairs in order.”
“That thought did cross my mind,” I said, nodding.
“She’s not sick, is she?”
“No, she’s doing great,” I said. “Healthy as a horse.”
“Would she tell you if she wasn’t?”
I thought about it for a long time then nodded.
“I’m sure she would.”
“We’d need at least a couple more full-time vets. And a ton of new staff,” Josie said.
“And be able to take care of a lot more animals,” I said.
“Yeah, I do like that,” she said, then shrugged. “Sure, why not? It’s at least worth taking a look at.”
“Okay, I’ll let her know we want to talk to her about it when we get to Cayman,” I said.
“Besides, we’ll probably need the room,” Josie said.
“What?”
“Rooster told me you were thinking about getting a Tibetan Mastiff puppy. Are you out of your mind?”
“You should have seen this dog,” I said, beaming. “Magnificent.”
Chapter 19
Josie left my office at eight to take the Otterhound’s temperature, and a few minutes later she came back in and sat down on the couch. At least s
he did as soon as Captain and Chloe grudgingly conceded enough room.
“Her temperature has dropped two degrees,” Josie said. “If it’s the same in the morning, she’s about ready.
Two consecutive readings of a lowered body temperature, twelve hours apart, almost always meant that labor would commence within twenty-four hours. My neurons flared briefly, and I started reviewing the checklist of what we needed to do to get ready.
“How’s she doing?”
“She’s fine. Just a little lethargic. But that’s to be expected,” Josie said, reaching into my desk drawer for a bag of bite-sized. She held it up to the light and frowned at me. “Really?”
“I’ve had a lot on my mind,” I said, grabbing a small handful.
“She also started working on her nesting area,” Josie said.
A few days ago, we’d put a large, low-sided wooden box in the corner of the Otterhound’s condo and lined it with newspaper then laid some blankets on top. We knew the dog would instinctively create a safe and comfortable area where she could deliver her puppies and then spend most of her time in the nesting area while she waited for labor to begin.
“Did she eat her dinner tonight?” I said.
“She did not,” Josie said.
“Okay, then I’m betting she’s going to start delivering late tomorrow afternoon or early evening.”
“Ten bucks she has her first puppy by five o’clock tomorrow,” Josie said, popping a bite-sized.
“You’re on,” I said. “I’m going with no earlier than seven.”
“I love taking your money. We might be in for a long night tomorrow,” she said, glancing down at Captain who had begun to snore loudly. “Hey,” she said, gently tapping his side. “We’re trying to talk here.”
Captain snorted, opened one eye, thumped his tail on the couch once, then went back to sleep.
We headed up to the house and spent the evening with Chef Claire and the dogs watching a movie before heading to bed. The next morning, the Otterhound’s temperature was still two degrees lower than normal, and Gabby was restless and beginning to pant. Josie ran her stethoscope over the dog’s stomach, then nodded with a big smile.
“Six little heartbeats pounding away,” Josie said, sliding her stethoscope into her coat. “But I don’t think she’s producing milk yet.”