by B R Snow
“Good point,” I said, glancing into the backseat. “She’s out.”
“She is indeed,” Rooster said. “I thought I might take you three out to dinner tomorrow night. It might be the last chance I get before you head to Cayman.”
“That sounds good,” I said. “C’s?”
“Where else?” he said. “Chef Claire said she’s doing an Italian special tomorrow. But she’s taking the night off after she gets things organized in the kitchen.”
“I’m in.”
“I’m also thinking about taking the snowmobile out during the day. You feel like tagging along?”
“No, I’ve got something to do tomorrow. Road trip.”
“Where are you going?”
“Cape Vincent.”
“To see the Rossi woman?” Rooster said, glancing over.
“Yeah,” I said, slowly nodding my head.
“Should I even ask?”
“Not yet,” I said, glancing over at him. “But I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow night.” Then a lightbulb went off in my head. “Hey, why didn’t we just take the snowmobiles out to the Friendly’s place?”
“Because we needed the exercise,” he said, staring out at the road.
“Speak for yourself.”
Rooster pulled into the parking lot in front of the Inn, and I grimaced from a leg cramp as I climbed out.
“Do you think Jessie is going to sell the property to 3E?” I said, holding the door open.
“I do not,” he said.
“But it’s going to cost us more than we originally thought, isn’t it?”
“Oh, yeah,” Rooster said, nodding.
I closed the passenger door and opened the back door on my side. I gently shook Chef Claire by the shoulder.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty. We’re home.”
Chef Claire slowly came to and yawned. Then she shook her head.
“I’ve got a headache,” she said, climbing out of the truck.
“Me too,” I said. “But probably for a different reason.”
“I’m going up to the house to take a shower,” she said, waving goodbye to Rooster.
“You sure you don’t want a little nip before you go?” Rooster said as he held up a glass jar of the clear liquid.
“Funny,” Chef Claire said, staggering slightly as she made her way to the path that led up to the house.
“No sipping from that jar until you get home. See you tomorrow,” I said, closing the back door and waving.
I watched Rooster drive off then headed inside the Inn through the front door. Jill was sitting behind the reception desk and working on the computer.
“Hey, how was your day?” she said.
“Eventful,” I said. “Where’s Josie?”
“Where do you think?” Jill said, laughing.
I nodded and headed for the condo area where I found Josie sitting on the floor next to the Otterhound. She was stroking Gabby’s head and giving the sleeping puppies a loving stare.
“Hey,” I said, standing in the doorway. “What did I miss?”
“Not much,” Josie said. “I had a couple annual exams this afternoon, and I had to stitch up the Smith’s spaniel that somehow managed to run into a barbed wire fence.”
“Ow,” I said, frowning. “How’s the dog doing?”
“She’s fine,” Josie said. “Andy took her home a couple hours ago. I’ve spent most of the day out here watching these guys.”
“How are they doing?”
“Couldn’t be better,” she said. “But delivering this litter took a lot out of her. That’s three, and I think that’s probably enough. Do you think we can get the widow Friendly to agree to have her spayed?”
“We’ll need to get Cooter’s permission for that,” I said. “But I don’t think that will be a problem.”
“He’s taking the dog?”
“Yes, and two of the puppies,” I said. “Mother and daughter are moving to Florida and don’t want to take the dogs with them.”
“Interesting,” she said. “I take it she wasn’t thrilled with the fact that the puppies aren’t purebred?”
“She was not,” I said. “But she got over it in a hurry. Suddenly, money is the least of her concerns.”
“So, how was your day?”
“Well, let’s see, I spent way too much of it on skis, had an interesting chat with Cooter about the inner conflicts lurking within every superhero, and Chef Claire got hammered on moonshine.”
“She got drunk?” Josie said, laughing.
“She’s up at the house taking a shower trying to sober up,” I said, then frowned. “Oh, and Herman Billows fell down a hole in a cave.”
“And?” she said, raising an eyebrow.
“And the Chief is out there with a rescue crew trying to recover the body.”
“Recover it? How far did he fall?”
“Five Mississippi,” I said.
“That’s a lot of Mississippi,” she said, frowning.
“That’s what we thought. Rooster wanted to tag along with the rescue crew so he could see what’s at the bottom.”
“You mean, besides Billows’ body, right?”
“Nothing gets past you.”
“They wouldn’t let Rooster go with them?”
“No,” I said, laughing. “That’s all they’d need. Oh, by the way, he’s taking us to dinner tomorrow night.”
“Works for me. Chef Claire’s doing Italian.”
“And Rooster’s looking for somebody to go snowmobiling with tomorrow if you’re interested.”
“No, he drives way too fast for me,” she said, shaking her head. “Are you going?”
“No, I have to go to Cape Vincent.”
“To see the Rossi woman?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay,” Josie said, staring at me. “Please tell me she wasn’t the one who killed Friendly.”
“No, she wasn’t.”
“But you’ve figured out who did?”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I have. Not that I can ever prove it.”
“You have been busy.”
“Yeah, it’s been a day.”
Chapter 26
Sofia Rossi greeted the Chief and me at the door with a confused look on her face. Her Rottweiler barked and growled his severe displeasure at our unannounced pop in.
“Hi, Sofia. Hey, Stinky,” I said, kneeling down in the doorway and slowly extending my bandaged hand toward the dog.
“That’s not very nice,” the Chief whispered, keeping a close eye on the Rottweiler with the throaty grumble.
“It’s his name,” I said, scratching one of the dog’s ears.
“That’s right,” he said. “How could I forget that?”
“Please, come in,” Sofia said, staring at Chief Abrams’ badge.
She stepped back from the door, and we entered the warm house. The Rottweiler followed at our heels as we entered the living room, removed our coats then sat down.
“Can I get you anything?”
“No, I’m good,” I said, smiling at her.
“Nothing for me, thanks,” Chief Abrams said, cautiously stroking the dog’s head.
“What brings you out here on such a cold and windy day?” Sofia said.
“We’d like to talk to you,” I said.
“Is this some sort of official visit?” she said to the Chief.
“No, it’s not,” Chief Abrams said. “Actually, I’m just here to keep an eye on Suzy.”
“Funny,” I said, making a face at him. “We’d like to talk to you about what happened to Skitch Friendly.”
She immediately began to tear up, and I waited until she wiped her eyes and regained her composure.
“What about Skitch?” she said.
“You two were very close, weren’t you?” I said.
Sofia stared at me, then shrugged and nodded her head.
“We were certainly getting there. How did you know that?”
“At first, it was just a guess,” I sa
id. “But after the Otterhound had her litter, I sort of put it together.”
“The Otterhound had a litter of puppies?” she said, frowning. “I find that hard to believe. We weren’t planning a litter until the spring.”
“Yeah, I know,” I said, stroking the Rottweiler’s head. “But this guy had other ideas.”
“What?” she said, stunned. “You think Stinky is the father of her litter?”
“Yeah, it certainly appears that way,” I said. “And I didn’t understand how it was possible, given how closely the two of you were working together on purebred Otterhounds. Leaving the dogs unsupervised was an odd thing to do, but I imagine you and Skitch were busy doing something else.”
Sofia ran a hand through her hair then chuckled.
“Neither one of us had a clue Gabby was in heat,” she said. “What do the puppies look like?”
“They’re gorgeous,” I said. “But they’re still very young. They haven’t even opened their eyes yet.”
“How many in the litter?”
“Six.”
“What’s going to happen with them?” Sofia said.
“Gabby and two of the puppies are going with Skitch’s son, Cooter,” I said. “We’ll put the other four up for adoption when they’re ready.”
“I’d like one of them,” Sofia said.
I wasn’t sure if she wanted a puppy as a playmate for the Rottweiler or as a remembrance of Skitch Friendly. It was probably a lot of both.
“Sure, I’ll have somebody give you a call in about six weeks,” I said.
“Okay,” she said. “I can’t imagine you came here just to confirm that I was involved with Skitch.”
“No, we didn’t,” I said. “But how serious was the relationship?”
“It was pretty intense,” she said. “But destined to remain…episodic. He was considering divorce, but there was no way he was ever going to leave what he called his palace in the woods. I’ve never seen it, but I certainly wasn’t going to move out there. Have you been out to his place?”
“We have,” the Chief said.
“What’s it like?”
“Remote,” the Chief said. “But apart from the lack of electricity and running water, it’s actually very nice.”
“Definitely not something I could handle,” Sofia said, then studied my expression. “You’re holding something back. What is it?”
“We don’t think Skitch’s death was an accident,” I said.
“You think he was murdered?” Sofia said, glancing back and forth at us, surprised.
“We do,” the Chief said.
“You can’t possibly believe that I had anything to do with it,” Sofia said.
“No, not a chance,” I said, shaking my head. “Is your ex-husband a large man, Sofia?”
Sofia sat back in her chair, stunned.
“My ex-husband?”
“Yes. Is he a big guy?”
“As a matter of fact, he is.”
“Bald with a big, drooping mustache?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “How on earth did you know that?”
“Because Skitch’s son watched an argument between his dad and your ex-husband a couple of weeks ago,” I said. “Is your ex-husband violent?”
“He certainly can be,” she said after a long pause. “Peter’s capable of anything. He’d been stalking me. And we had a couple of confrontations where he threatened me. He’d found out I was seeing someone, but I had no idea he knew who it was. Do you really think he might have killed Skitch?”
“I think it’s very possible,” I said.
“Did you call the police and let them know your ex-husband was stalking you?” Chief Abrams said.
“No, I just called my father,” she said, shrugging. “As a cop, you might be familiar with his work.”
“Mikey the Mechanic,” the Chief said, nodding.
“An unfortunate nickname, but that’s him,” she said. “I called my dad, and he said he would take care of it.”
“And?” the Chief said.
“And I haven’t seen Peter in several days,” Sofia said. “My father probably convinced him to take a nice long vacation. Perhaps somewhere near the ocean.”
“Or under it,” I whispered.
“Yes,” Sofia said, flashing a small smile that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “Or under it. Do you have any proof that Peter killed Skitch?”
“Absolutely none,” the Chief said. “And I doubt we ever will.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Sofia said. “I’m sure justice has prevailed.”
It was a funny way to say that her father recently had her ex-husband whacked, but I wasn’t going to quibble. Especially after the look she’d just given me. I brushed my hand across the back of my neck to get the hairs down. Then my neurons flared.
“Is Walter back from his trip yet? I believe he said he was going to Scranton,” I said.
“I’m afraid Walter no longer works for me,” Sofia said.
“You called your father?” I said, cocking my head at her.
Sofia laughed and shook her head.
“No, it was nothing like that. Walter called the other day and said he had decided to move back to Florida.”
“Just like that, huh?” I said, ignoring the look the Chief was giving me.
“Just like that,” she said. “You don’t know anyone who’s comfortable working with dogs, do you?”
“Nobody that comfortable,” I said, shaking my head.
“What?”
“Nothing,” I said, glancing at the Chief who nodded at the door. “We should get going. Thanks for your time, Sofia.”
“Thank you for giving me some closure,” she said. “And for the puppy.”
“No problem,” I said, standing up and extending my hand. “We’ll call you as soon as they’re ready.”
“It was nice meeting you, Chief Abrams,” Sofia said, shaking his hand.
“You too,” he said, putting his coat on. Then he leaned down to pet the Rottweiler. “He’s a good dog. But why did you give him that name?”
“It was my father’s decision,” Sofia said, laughing. “He thought it was perfect for him.”
“And you don’t argue with your father, right?”
“I wouldn’t recommend it.”
Epilogue
“Hold still. You’re such a big baby.”
“You’re hurting me. You could crack walnuts with those hands.”
“Suzy, I just came out of surgery with Gabby where I put a plate in her leg along with six screws to hold it in place, and she complained less than you.”
“How’s she doing?”
“She doing fine,” Josie said, removing another stitch from my hand. “I would have preferred to hold off until she stopped nursing, but I didn’t want to wait any longer to get that leg fixed.”
“Will the anesthesia impact her milk?” I said, then winced. “Ow.”
“Oh, sorry about that one. I got a bit of skin,” Josie said, chuckling. “No, it shouldn’t be a problem. But just to be safe, I asked Sammy and Jill to bottle feed the puppies for a few days. And Gabby can use the rest. The poor girl has been through a lot.”
“She certainly has,” I said, glancing down at the half-moon of puffy, red skin that ran between my thumb and index finger. “That’s going to be an ugly scar.”
“It’s going to be a beautiful scar,” Josie said, removing the final stitch. She tossed the tweezers on a metal tray then used a wet wipe on my hand. “There you go. Good as new.”
I examined my hand then shrugged.
“Thanks. But I still say your bedside manner needs work.”
“Yeah, I really need to start working on that,” she said, punching me on the shoulder.
“Funny,” I said, glancing out the window. “It’s snowing again.”
“I didn’t know it had stopped,” she said, shrugging. “But tomorrow night we’ll be sitting around the pool relaxing.”
“Actually, we’ll b
e sitting around my mom’s pool,” I said. “She called this morning and said she’s throwing an arrival party for us.”
“That sounds like fun,” Josie said, removing her lab coat. “When is Max getting in?”
“He got in today,” I said. “He’s going to stay with my mom and Paulie tonight.”
“Uh-oh,” Josie said, laughing.
“Yeah, I know. She’ll have an unchecked opportunity to sprinkle grandkid references into every conversation.”
“Did you talk with Sammy and Jill about Gabby and the puppies?”
“I did. As we agreed, Gabby stays right here until the puppies are eight weeks. They’ll give Cooter the instructions you wrote down about how to handle Gabby until he’s sure her leg is completely healed. And he gets the pick of the litter. Then Sofia picks the one she wants. And the other three go up for adoption. That is if you’re sure you don’t want to keep one.”
“No, for the last time, we’re not keeping one,” Josie said, shaking her head. “Unless they don’t get adopted. But that’s highly unlikely. They’re going to be great looking dogs.”
“Yeah, I think they are,” I said, rubbing the scar on my hand. “You ready for dinner?”
Josie rolled her eyes at me as she hung her lab coat on a hook and headed for the back door of the Inn. We headed up to the house and found Chef Claire in the living room sitting in front of the fire with Rooster and Chief Abrams. Chef Claire got up and poured wine for us.
“Thanks,” I said, taking a sip. “Have you finished packing?”
“I finished a week ago,” Chef Claire said.
“I wish I was going with you,” Rooster said. “This has the look of a very long winter. But I guess I’ll be down there soon enough.”
“Why wait?” I said.
“Sure, just fly out with us tomorrow,” Chef Claire said.
“That’s a great idea,” Josie said. “Your shepherd is going to be staying with Millie, right?”
“Actually, she’s going to be housesitting for me,” Rooster said, frowning. “I don’t know. It’s pretty short notice.”
“Got your passport?” I said.
“I do.”
“Then give Millie a call, pack a bag when you get home tonight, and by this time tomorrow you’ll be sunburned and buzzed on Mudslides,” Josie said, then glanced at Chef Claire. “Or you can bring the jar of shine along. I know Chef Claire would love that.”