The Case of the Jaded Jack Russell

by B R Snow

  “Yeah, but you wouldn’t like it. Instead of Canadian bacon, they substitute smoked salmon.”

  “Yuk,” I said. “Why would they do something dumb like that and ruin a perfect dish?”

  “I think it’s the work of a genius,” she said, then had a thought and glanced over at the cops. “Hey, I’ve been wondering about something. On this side of the border, do you guys call it Canadian bacon, or just bacon?”

  “I think we’re pretty flexible on that one,” Bill said, still baffled by mealtime Josie.

  I washed down a particularly spicy mouthful of Kung Pao chicken with a gulp of water and focused on the two cops who were sitting across the table.

  “I heard you cleared Harold and Rena Smythe,” I said casually as I speared a piece of broccoli.

  “We did,” Bill said, staring at me.

  If he was curious about where I’d heard that bit of information, he let it pass without asking.

  “Yeah,” Shirley said, slowly chewing her food. “The only people those two might kill would be each other.”

  “I guess affairs tend to have that effect on some people,” I said, smiling as I glanced back and forth at them. Then I flinched when I felt Josie kick me under the table. “But what the heck. We’re all adults here, right?”

  “Yeah, we’re all adults,” Bill said, giving me a dark stare.

  “How long have you two been partners?” I said, trying to turn the mood around.

  “Three years,” Shirley said.

  “Three years, one month, and four days,” Bill said, beaming at his partner.

  Shirley grinned, pushed her hair back from her face, and reached for the soy sauce. I glanced over at Bill’s left hand and saw his wedding ring. I must have flinched because he noticed my reaction and put his chopsticks down.

  “Yes?” he said, folding his hands in front of him on the table.

  “Nothing. It’s none of my business,” I said, red-faced.

  “No, it’s not,” he said, tearing up. “But I should probably tell you that I’m a widower.”

  Shirley reached over and placed her hand on his.

  “I’m just having a really hard time taking the ring off,” he said, picking up his chopsticks.

  “You’ll get there,” Shirley said. “Take all the time you need.”

  “Well, don’t I feel like a total jerk,” I said, frowning.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “It’s a logical assumption to make.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said.

  “It’s okay,” Shirley said, patting his hand. “Him wearing that ring is about the only thing that keeps us from tearing off each other’s clothes at work.”

  “You’re so good to me,” Bill said, going in for a kiss that made me blush. It lasted long enough to get Josie to look up from the crab leg she was doing battle with. Eventually, they broke contact, and Shirley laughed.

  “I told you not to eat all those oysters,” she said, squeezing his arm.

  “They have oysters?” Josie said, glancing over at his plate. “How the heck did I miss them?”

  “We had them last night,” Bill said.

  “Oh, I thought I was slipping there for a moment,” Josie said, resuming her attack on the crab leg.

  I was about to ask my next question when a piece of crab shell landed on the side of my face. I picked it off and tossed it back on her plate, then glared at her.

  “Oops,” she said, suppressing a giggle. “Incoming.”

  “What’s next for the investigation?” I said to the lovebird cops.

  “We’ve sort of hit an impasse,” Shirley said. “We’re not sure where we’re going to take it.”

  “But you like Rollins for it, don’t you?” I said casually as I picked my way around a shrimp in my fried rice I’d taken my mistake.

  “I’m not sure we should be talking about this with you, Suzy,” Bill said, glancing at his partner.

  “Sure, sure. I get that,” I said, pausing as Josie got up to make a return trip to the buffet. “Although I don’t think he did it, Rollins seems to be the only logical suspect at the moment. Unless there’s additional evidence I’m not aware of.”

  Both cops stared at me. I wanted to believe it was because I was demonstrating amazing detective abilities, but I imagine they were staring because they were having a hard time dealing with my intrusive behavior. Eventually, Bill softened and nodded at me.

  “Yes, we can confirm that Rollins is high on our list. So far,” he said, shrugging.

  “But you don’t have it,” I said, leaning forward and putting my elbows on the table.

  “Have what?” Shirley said.

  “Enough evidence to arrest him.”

  “No, we don’t,” she said, sliding a piece of grilled fish into her mouth.

  I did my best not to grimace at what I considered one of the most disgusting things anybody could eat. I grabbed a piece of orange chicken with my chopsticks to take my mind off it and chewed slowly before continuing.

  “You know, it’s the timing of events that point to him,” I said. “That’s what I can’t shake.”

  “Timing of what events?” Bill said, leaning forward.

  “The fact that Middleton got killed the same day he told Rollins that he was going to do some restructuring and make some drastic changes to his job responsibilities.”

  Both cops stared at me with their mouths open, and it eventually dawned on me that they didn’t have a clue what I was talking about. When he called earlier this morning, Chief Abrams had told me that the news about the changes Middleton was about to implement hadn’t gone public, but I hadn’t even considered the possibility that the two bewildered cops sitting across the table from me hadn’t heard about it. I kicked myself under the table and hoped that I hadn’t put Chief Abrams or his buddy at the SEC in a difficult spot.

  “Drastic changes to his job?” Shirley said.

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s news to us,” Bill said. “Would you mind explaining where you heard it?”

  “It came from somebody at the SEC,” I said, shrugging, then felt the need to clarify. “The one that tries to keep an eye on the financial industry, not the football conference.”

  “Got it,” Bill said, unable to stop staring at me.

  “That slimeball Rollins never said a word about it,” Shirley said to her partner. “It certainly provides more than enough motive.”

  “Yes, it certainly does,” Bill said, then focused on me. “What specifically did you hear?”

  “Not a lot, really,” I said. “But Middleton Enterprises is going to miss its quarterly numbers, and a couple of regions Rollins has direct responsibility for are in the tank. Middleton was blaming Rollins for the bad quarter and using it as the reason to restructure his job.”

  “It’s not enough,” Shirley said. “We still can’t place him at the scene.”

  “He had help,” Bill said, his voice rising a notch. “That has to be it.”

  “So we’re back to that,” Shirley said, shaking her head. “I really don’t think it’s possible, Bill.”

  “Sure it was,” he said. “Especially if he’d been planning it for a long time. Maybe hearing about what was happening to his job was the last straw.”

  “No, I don’t like it,” Shirley said, shaking her head.

  “Me either,” I said, out loud to myself.

  “I’m sorry,” Bill said, annoyed. “But I don’t remember asking you for your opinion.”

  “Yeah, I really need to work on that. But I have to agree with Shirley on this one, Bill. The murder has the look of a spontaneous act brought on by sudden rage. From what I’ve seen, Rollins is very calculating. I don’t think he even goes to the bathroom without a strategy.”

  Bill picked at his food, then sat back in his chair. Josie returned with a fresh plate piled high.

  “I love this place,” she said, reaching for her chopsticks. Then she picked up on the silence at the table. “Did I miss something?�
��

  “No,” I said. “We were just debating whether or not Rollins is the murderer.”

  “It sounds like it’s a moot point at the moment,” she said with a shrug as she dug into her second helping.

  “How so?” Shirley said.

  Josie chewed, then swallowed and wiped her mouth. “No match on the fingerprints, no witnesses, and no traces of Middleton’s blood on Rollins. We all saw how badly the guy was bleeding from his nose. It would have been impossible to pour drain cleaner down the guy’s throat and not get some blood on you.” She slowly chewed a chunk of chicken then sipped water. “You can’t go into court with that case. His lawyers would have a field day.”

  “She’s right,” Shirley said.

  “Yes, and that’s why we haven’t arrested him. But I still like him for the murder,” Bill said, then glared at me. “I really wish you wouldn’t look at me like that.”

  “Like what?” I said.

  “Like I’m an idiot,” he said.

  “Sorry. I just don’t see Rollins doing it.”

  Bill calmed down and picked at his food. “The lack of blood does bother me. Not to mention that we can’t match the prints. We must have fingerprinted five hundred people.”

  “You did find blood on one person,” Josie said, casually tossing it out.

  “Roxanne?” Shirley said. “She’s the one who found the body. And since she’d been engaged to the guy, it makes sense that she would have tried to comfort him.”

  “Maybe,” Josie said.

  “Where are you going with this?” I said, glancing over at her.

  “I’m not going anywhere. I’m just reviewing some of the facts.”

  “Middleton was Roxanne’s meal ticket,” I said, frowning. “Why on earth would she want to kill him?”

  “I’m not saying she did,” Josie said. “I’m saying that maybe he was trying to kill her.”

  A stunned silence fell over the table.

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

  “Did you find Middleton’s prints on the can of drain cleaner?” Josie said, smashing open another crab leg that went everywhere.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, we did,” Bill said. “They were consistent with someone who was trying to fend off an attack.” He raised his hands in front of his face to demonstrate what he was talking about.

  “But couldn’t he also have been trying to pour it on someone else?” she said, wiping my cheek with her napkin. “Sorry about that.” Then she focused on the cops. “Was the location of the prints also consistent with someone who might have been on the attack as opposed to trying to defend himself?”

  Bill and Shirley glanced at each other. Eventually, they shrugged.

  “Yeah, I guess it’s possible,” he said. “But that’s kind of a stretch.”

  “It explains the blood,” Josie said, rubbing her stomach. “I’m such a little piggy.”

  “But it still doesn’t explain the lack of fingerprints,” Shirley said.

  Josie set her chopsticks down and wiped her mouth again.

  “If you came at me with a can of drain cleaner,” she said. “I would undoubtedly do everything I could to stop you, right?”

  “Well, sure,” Shirley said.

  “And instead of reaching for the can, wouldn’t it be plausible for me to try to grab your arms to stop you?”

  “Yes, I can see that,” Bill said, nodding.

  “And if Roxanne did grab his arms, that wouldn’t necessarily leave any prints.”

  “Maybe not,” Bill said.

  “And even if it did, knowing Roxanne the way we do, I imagine you’d find her prints all over his body,” she said, grinning.

  “Now that’s funny,” Shirley said, grinning back at Josie. “You two do have some bad history, don’t you?”

  “Maybe a bit,” she conceded with a shrug.

  I snorted.

  “Shut it.”

  “Did you really stab her?” Shirley said.

  “Only on the hand,” Josie snapped. “And it was an accident.”

  “Why would Middleton want to kill Roxanne?” I said.

  “Maybe he was already bored with her,” Josie said. “We know he was sleeping with other women. Maybe he eventually woke up and decided he didn’t want to give away a bunch of money in a divorce. Who knows?”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t like Roxanne for it at all. Even in self-defense.”

  “Well, it’s better than anything you’ve got,” Josie said, laughing.

  “That’s not hard to do,” I said, shrugging. “I got nothing.”

  “There you go,” she said, gently punching me on the shoulder.

  “It’s an interesting theory,” Bill said. “I guess we could take another look at it through that lens.”

  “Yeah, we can do that,” Shirley said. “But I gotta agree with Suzy. I don’t see it.”

  “Well, something has to break soon, or this is going to end up as one of those cases that never get solved.”

  “Oh, I hate when that happens,” I said, then flushed with embarrassment when I saw the look the two cops were giving me. “I mean, you guys must hate it when that happens.”

  “Yeah, it’s a real drag,” Bill said, laughing as he tossed his napkin on the table. “We should get going. Thanks so much for lunch. This has been, to say the least, most interesting.”

  “Yes, thanks so much,” Shirley said, standing. “It was delicious.”

  “Aren’t you going to stay for dessert?” Josie said, frowning at them.

  “Dessert?” Bill said. “You must be joking.”

  “I never joke about dessert.”

  They both laughed, and Bill glanced over at me.

  “If your contact at the SEC happens to come up with anything else, we’d appreciate it if you let us know.”

  “Will do,” I said. “Good luck with it.”

  They waved and headed outside.

  “Nice people,” I said. “And they make a cute couple.”

  “Yes, they do,” Josie said, getting up out of her chair. “You ready for the dessert table?”

  “Yeah, I think I saved enough room.”

  I followed her toward the long line of desserts on display.

  “You really think Roxanne killed Middleton in self-defense?”

  “No,” she said, slowing down as she approached an interesting collection of custards.

  “But you just thought you’d float the idea?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Because you don’t like Roxanne and wanted to drag her back into it?”

  “No, that’s not it. In her own way, I guess she’s okay.”

  “Then why bring it up?”

  “It’s an alternate theory,” she said, making eye contact with me. “And that’s what was needed.”

  “Really?” I said, offended.

  “Yes, you’re way off your game on this one. And I’m getting tired of listening to you prattle on and on about some possible scenario that isn’t holding water. Either come up with a new theory or let it go. You’re driving me nuts.”

  “I’m stuck.”

  “No kidding,” she said, coming to a sudden stop. “Oooh, custard-stuffed chocolate eclairs. Be still my beating heart.”

  “Maybe just one,” I said, grabbing a small plate. “Roxanne might have done it in self-defense? When you think about it, it’s not as crazy as it sounds.”

  Josie shook her head as she grabbed two of the eclairs.

  “Why do I even bother?”

  Chapter 15

  We were on the road heading for home just after two; full, tired, and very much looking forward to seeing the dogs. Traffic was light once we got out of the city and hit Highway 416 heading south. About an hour later we were approaching the Custom and Immigration station at Ogdensburg. The agents took their time with us and used Jack as an excuse to linger. They reached through the rear windows to pet him and scratch his ears, all the while casually flirting with us
. We let it play out, too tired to banter with them, and they eventually waved us through. We headed southwest, connected with Route 12, and made it home just as the sun was beginning to set.

  Jack perked up immediately when I parked in front of the Inn, and he trotted at our heels as we went up the steps and through the front door. He stopped in the doorway, sniffed the air, and gave the place the once-over. I scooped him up in my arms and approached the registration counter where Sammy and Jill were beaming at the Jack Russell.

  “Can’t you guys go anywhere without getting another dog?” Sammy said, grinning as he took Jack from me. “He’s gorgeous. Is he just visiting or is he a new member of the family?”

  “He’s officially one of us,” Josie said, rubbing the dog’s head. She tossed the envelope containing all his records on the counter. “We’ll need to add all the important stuff into the computer and put the originals in the safe with the others when you get a chance. Oh, and he has a chip so let’s make sure we update his record with…listen to me, you know the drill. I’ll stop talking now.”

  “You got it,” Sammy said, handing the dog to Jill.

  “Thanks, Sammy,” Josie said, stifling a yawn.

  “Where did you get him?” Jill said, admiring the Jack Russell.

  “You’re looking at the former brand representative for Middleton Enterprises,” I said, leaning against the counter.

  “Really?” Jill said. “What’s his name?”

  “Jack,” I said.

  “That makes sense,” Jill said, nodding.

  “I probably would have gone with Russell,” Josie said.

  “He’s amazing,” Jill said. “How on earth did you get your hands on him?”

  “Yeah,” Sammy said, laughing as he glanced up from the keyboard. “What did you do, kill his owner?”

  “No, somebody else beat us to it,” Josie said.

  “You’re joking, right?” Jill said, staring at Josie.

  “I wish,” she said, glancing around the reception area. “How are things around here?”

  “Things are great,” Sammy said. “Everybody just had dinner, and I’m about to take them outside so they can do their business. How was the conference?”

  “Eventful,” Josie said. “We’ll tell you all about it later. Is Chef Claire around?”