The Case of the Jaded Jack Russell

by B R Snow

  “They fingerprinted you? What have you done, Suzy?”

  “Relax, Chief. They fingerprinted everybody. They said it was for the case file.”

  “Okay, I guess that makes some sense. But that’s gotta be one huge case file,” he said. “They fingerprinted Josie?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I would have loved to have seen that,” he said, laughing. “How did she take it?”

  “Not well. But at least she went down swinging.”

  “What do you need from me?”

  “I was wondering if your buddy still works for the SEC?”

  “Which one?”

  “What?”

  “Which one?”

  “How many buddies do you have working there?”

  “No, which SEC are you talking about?”

  “There’s more than one?”

  “Yeah. There’s the Securities and Exchange Commission, and the SEC, the athletic conference.”

  “Oh. I did not know that,” I said, shrugging at Jack. “I’m talking about the one that’s always trying to keep track of people who are trying to manipulate the system and doing goofy things with money.”

  “I’m going to need you to be a bit more specific,” he said, chuckling.

  “What?”

  “I guess only a college football fan would get that joke,” he said. “Too bad you’re not. It was a good one.”

  “I’ll take your word for it. Would you mind calling your buddy at the not-a-conference SEC?”

  “I’ll be happy to do that. Actually, he owes me a favor.”

  “That’s great. What did you do for him?”

  “I got him two tickets on the fifty-yard line for last year’s Alabama-Auburn game. Actually, it was my buddy at the SEC who got him the tickets.”

  “Your buddy at the SEC got tickets for your buddy at the SEC?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Somebody needs to think about changing their initials,” I said. “Could you ask him if he’s heard about any problems or turmoil at Middleton Enterprises? I’m pretty sure they’re a public company.”

  “I can do that,” he said. “And you’d like it as soon as possible, right?”

  “You know me so well.”

  “What do you need it for?” Chief Abrams said.

  “I kinda like the COO for the murder,” I said, saying it out loud for the first time and deciding that it didn’t sound too off the wall.

  “And if there’s some unrest inside the company, you think that might give you the motive?”

  “Yeah. Does that sound crazy?”

  “No, it doesn’t. But killing somebody in front of several hundred people does. I’d expect a corporate executive to be smarter than that. And to exhibit a lot more self-control.”

  “Yeah, I keep looping around back to that. But if something really big was happening at the company, anything is possible, right?”

  “Sure. Have you talked with this guy yet?”

  “Well, I sort of got into it today with him during our Q&A.”

  “Of course, you did,” he said, laughing. “What did he do?”

  “He was bad-mouthing our rescue program. Said it was a total waste of money.”

  “Silly man.”

  “Yeah, we sort of humiliated him in public,” I said, unable to stop myself from grinning at the memory.

  “How did the audience react?”

  “They gave us a standing ovation. Why?”

  “Those guys don’t like having the chrome knocked off their finish. Especially in public.”

  “Hey, he asked for it.”

  “I’m sure he did,” he said, then slid back into his fatherly tone. “Just promise me you’ll be careful when you do talk with him. If he was willing to kill his CEO, he wouldn’t think twice about getting rid of you.”

  “Yeah, that thought has crossed my mind. But I’ve got the perfect excuse to talk to him.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We’re going to take the company’s dog off their hands,” I said, scratching one of Jack’s ears.

  “Whatever,” he whispered. “Just be careful, huh?”

  “Will do.”

  “By the way, I ran into Chef Claire at the grocery store this afternoon.”

  “And?”

  “And she was in a really foul mood.”

  “Chef Claire?”

  “Yeah, you know, I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen her in a bad mood.”

  “Did she say why?”

  “No. And I didn’t ask. It was pretty clear she wasn’t in the mood for questions, and, unlike you, I tend to give people their space at times like that.”

  “Yeah, I really need to start working on that,” I said, focused on the possible source of Chef Claire’s distress. “Let me know what your buddy has to say.”

  “Will do. When do you get back in town?”

  “Hopefully, tomorrow. Unless the cops decide they want us to stick around, we’ll probably get back late in the afternoon. Josie has her heart set on some Chinese lunch buffet she’s been dying to try.”

  “That poor restaurant.”

  “Yeah, they won’t know what hit them. And if I don’t take her, she’ll be complaining the whole ride home.”

  “Please, be careful,” he said, again with the paternal tone.

  “Don’t worry, I always keep my distance when she’s eating.”

  “You know what I’m talking about,” he said, sternly.

  “Will do,” I said, laughing. Then I couldn’t help myself from adding. “Dad.”

  “You should be so lucky.”

  Chapter 10

  I tossed my phone on the coffee table and stretched out on the couch. Jack repositioned himself and was soon sound asleep. I closed my eyes and drifted off and didn’t wake up until Josie came into the living room a half-hour later. She sat down on the couch across from me and made room when Jack hopped up next to her.

  “Did you get some sleep?” I said, yawning.

  “Yeah, I got an hour or so,” she said. “It should be enough to get me through the rest of the day. Did you get a chance to take a look at Bobbie’s resume?”

  “I did. It looks good. I’ve got a couple questions about what happened to her business when she tried to expand, but other than that, I think she might be a great hire.”

  “She’s definitely an animal lover. And she’s done a whole bunch of volunteer work. You gotta like that. Did you call Chef Claire yet?”

  “No, I was waiting for you,” I said, reaching for my phone. “You want to do it now?”

  “Yeah, we probably should. If she’s not cool with the idea, there’s really no reason to waste time doing the interview.”

  I nodded and placed the call. Chef Claire answered on the second ring.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Sorry to call you during dinner hours,” I said.

  “Not a problem. It’s really slow tonight. And pretty much everybody who is here is having the special. I was actually thinking about turning things over to George and heading home. How’s it going up there?”

  “Not bad,” I said. “Apart from the dead guy in the supply closet.”

  “What? Not another one,” she said.

  “Yeah, but that’s not why we’re calling.”

  “Oh, Josie’s there. How are you doing, Josie?”

  “Good. And you?”

  “I’ve had better days,” Chef Claire whispered.

  “Did you get a phone call today?” I said. “A phone call that bothered you?”

  “As a matter of fact, I did. How on earth did you know that?”

  “We met Charlie today,” I said.

  “I see. And he told you he called me?”

  “No, that was just a guess,” I said.

  “Well, it was a good one,” she said, then paused for several seconds. “How does he look?”

  I glanced at Josie who shrugged. I decided there was no reason to lie to her.

  “He looks great,”
I said.

  “He’s gorgeous,” Josie said.

  “Yes, he is, isn’t he?”

  “Did he mention that we also met Bobbie?” I said.

  “No, he didn’t.”

  “Actually, she’s the reason we’re calling.”

  “Bobbie’s great. If you see her again, tell her I said hi,” Chef Claire said, then paused again before continuing. “Why would she be the reason you’re calling?”

  “Because she wants to apply for the Rescue Manager position,” I said.

  We waited out another very long silence. Finally, she continued.

  “I see.”

  “What do you think about that?”

  “Do you want my honest answer?”

  “Of course,” Josie said. “Why do you think we’re calling to talk about it?”

  “Thanks. I appreciate you doing that,” Chef Claire said. “Then I have to say I think it’s a bad idea. But not because of Bobbie. If it was just her, I wouldn’t hesitate to say yes. Unfortunately, I’m worried about who else might decide to tag along.”

  “You don’t think he’ll be able to stay away?” Josie said.

  “Charlie’s never been able to do it before. In fact, I’m surprised he hasn’t already decided to pop in. I guess the restraining order finally got his attention.”

  I stared at Josie, then decided to tread very carefully.

  “Restraining order?” I whispered.

  “Yeah. Long story.”

  “Maybe you can tell us all about it sometime,” I said.

  “Maybe,” Chef Claire said. “Look, I’d hate to be the reason why Bobbie didn’t get a job. Tell you what, if she can convince you that she can keep Charlie out of Clay Bay, I might be willing to give it a shot.”

  “Okay,” Josie said. “And if she can’t do that?”

  “Then I’ll be heading to the Caymans earlier than planned.”

  Chapter 11

  Since I had an hour to kill before our interview with Bobbie, I decided to head downstairs to see if I could locate Victor Rollins, the COO of Middleton Enterprises. Josie begged off, citing the need for a bit more sleep, and I watched her head back to bed with Jack tucked under one arm, then got dressed and headed for the elevators. When I reached the lobby, I noticed dozens of conference attendees streaming out of their afternoon sessions, and since my initial encounter with Rollins had occurred around the same time of day and he’d been hammered, I decided that the closest bar might be the most likely place to find him.

  My neurons must have been firing on all cylinders because I stepped inside the softly lit space and immediately saw him on the opposite side of the room standing with his back to the bar. He was scanning the bar like a ravenous shark that had stumbled upon a herd of seals at feeding time, and he kept nudging the man standing next to him every time he saw a woman who caught his eye. But when he saw me heading straight for him, he turned around and hunched over his drink, apparently in an effort to make himself look smaller.

  Unfortunately for him, it didn’t work.

  I stopped directly behind him and cleared my throat. The man standing next to Rollins checked me out, gave me his best come-hither smile, and was about to speak when he caught the look on my face. He whispered into Rollins’ ear, then grabbed his drink and made a hasty retreat. I cleared my throat again.

  “Ms. Chandler, I presume,” Rollins said, not turning around.

  “Victor Rollins,” I said, sliding into the space the man had vacated. “I was hoping to run into you.”

  “You want to take another couple of shots at me?” he said, glancing over at me with his elbows resting on the bar. “Or regale me with more tales of your remarkable ability to throw money away?”

  “Oh, don’t be like that Victor,” I said, then ordered a glass of wine from the bartender. “And bring my friend another, please.”

  “Thanks,” Rollins said, rattling the ice cubes in his drink then polishing it off. He pushed the empty glass away and stood tall as he finally deigned me worthy of eye contact. “What can I do for you, Ms. Chandler?”

  “Please, call me Suzy,” I said, taking a sip of wine. “I wanted to talk with you about Jack.”

  “Jack?” he said, frowning. “Jack who?”

  “The Jack Russell terrier. You know, your company’s mascot?”

  “Oh, him,” he said, frowning. “I have no idea what happened to him. If you want to use the dog in a promotion, you’ll need to contact our marketing group.”

  “No, I don’t want to use him for a promotion.”

  “That’s good,” he said, laughing then taking a slug of his fresh glass of scotch. “Because that dog is done. Or at least he will be soon.”

  “What do you mean, done?”

  “Done as in no longer representing our company,” Rollins said, rattling his ice cubes again. “The word is already out on the street that he bit Josh. And I’m sure at least a dozen people managed to capture the whole thing on their phones. We can’t keep using that dog as our major brand representative after he tried to take our CEO’s hand off.”

  “Middleton deserved everything he got,” I snapped.

  “I’m sure he did,” Rollins said, nodding as an evil grin appeared on his face. “I’m just sorry I wasn’t there to see it.”

  I frowned when a thought popped into my head. Rollins noticed.

  “What is it?” he said.

  “I’m just wondering why you’re still here at the conference,” I said, glancing over at him. “Your CEO was murdered here last night.”

  “Life goes on,” he said, nonchalantly as he sipped his scotch. “And don’t even get me started on the vampire-like qualities of Middleton Enterprises. That place will survive nuclear winter.” He laughed, rattled his ice cubes, then gave me a boozy stare.

  “And staying here to keep an eye on things is what Middleton would have expected?”

  “No, it’s what he would have demanded,” he said, laughing. “Middleton’s dead. And there’s nothing I can do about it. Other than try to sell some new franchises.”

  “Nice business model,” I said to my wine glass. “So, what are you going to do with him?”

  “The dog? If I wasn’t talking to you, I’d probably say we were going to put him down,” he said, laughing.

  “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” I said, taking a tight-lipped sip of wine.

  “I wonder where the heck the dog is,” Rollins said, finishing his drink and snapping his fingers at the bartender. “You want another?”

  “No, I’m good,” I said, shaking my head. “And please don’t do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Snap your fingers at the bartender like he’s some sort of personal lackey.”

  “Isn’t that what he is?” Rollins said, baffled. Then he cocked his head when he heard me mumble under my breath. “What did you say?”

  “Nothing. But just so you know, I have the dog.”

  “What are you doing with it?”

  “We were watching him for Middleton just before he got killed. And since Roxanne was in no condition to look after Jack, we’ve been keeping an eye on him.”

  “Roxanne,” he said, laughing. “What a piece of work that little gold digger is. She was perfect for Josh.”

  “The perfect companion for a scum-sucking pig?” I said, raising an eyebrow at him over the top of my glass.

  “That’s right,” he said, studying my face. “Wilma mentioned that you’d talked with her.”

  “How well do you know Wilma?”

  “What do you mean, how well do I know her? What sort of question is that?”

  “It’s just a question. I noticed you were sitting next to her at lunch. And then afterward, the two of you seemed to be having a pretty intense conversation.”

  “What business is that of yours?”

  Since we were in a crowded bar and I was pretty sure the last thing he would want today was another public confrontation with me, I decided to poke the bear a bit.


  “Oh, I’m pretty sure it’s none of my business,” I said, beaming at him. “But I do find it interesting that the woman who had recently gotten cut out of her own deal with Middleton Enterprises, would be so chummy with the COO.”

  “What are you insinuating?” he said, again rattling the ice cubes in his empty glass.

  “Let me get you another one of those,” I said, giving the bartender a small wave. “I’m not suggesting anything. It just seems strange that Wilma would be so friendly given what happened to her.”

  “Wilma’s problem was with Josh. We get along just fine.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” I said, taking a sip. “She seems very…agreeable.”

  Rollins flinched but said nothing. He stirred his fresh drink and stared down at the bar.

  “Is her deal going to be resurrected?”

  “Maybe,” he said, nodding. “It’s an interesting idea that could work in some of our markets, but a lot will depend on what happens over the next few days.”

  “You mean if the board decides to make you CEO?”

  He grimaced and swiveled his head around his neck as if he was in severe pain. Or maybe it was just his way of showing annoyance with people who asked way too many questions.

  “That’s part of it,” he whispered.

  “And the other part is whether or not the police decide to charge you with his murder, right?”

  He turned and stared at me in disbelief.

  “Who have you been talking to?”

  “Nobody,” I said, shrugging. “It’s just a hunch. After you attacked him the other night right before he turned up dead, the cops must have you pretty high up on the list of suspects.”

  “I didn’t kill him. I was mad enough to kill him, but I didn’t.”

  “What did he do that made you so angry?”

  “That, most definitely, is none of your business,” he snapped.

  “Confidential business matters, right?”

  “Exactly,” he said, staring at me. “Tell me again why you’re standing here bothering me with all these questions.”

  I wasn’t sure how many drinks he’d had, but his speech had a hint of a slur, and his eyes were covered by a rheumy glaze.

  “Jack.”