The Case of the Prescient Poodle

by B R Snow

  “Because it only involves defenseless birds?” Josie said.

  “Yeah, pretty much,” Detective Renfro said.

  “You sound very cavalier about it, Detective,” Josie said.

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you,” he said, sliding his notebook back into his pocket. “But in the past month, I’ve dealt with three missing tourists who eventually turned up dead, a local man who got drunk and hacked up his family, several armed robberies, not to mention doing everything I could to bust up a child slavery ring that was trying to expand into the area. And now it appears that I might be dealing with another drug smuggling operation. A couple of dead roosters, although a classic case of animal cruelty, is way down my list.”

  The detective reached out to pet the poodle.

  “Cool dog,” he said. “What do you think I should do with her?”

  “We’ll take her,” I said. “At least until you get a chance to see if anyone comes forward to claim her.”

  “That works,” he said, getting to his feet. “Okay, I guess that’s all for now. I assume you’ll be down here for the next few months.”

  “We will,” I said, then remembered something. “Say, Detective, whatever happened with the woman you were dating?”

  “We’re finally officially engaged,” he said, beaming. “I’m very excited.”

  “Congratulations,” I said. “When’s the wedding?”

  “We’re still working on a date. Probably sometime in the summer,” he said. “How about you?”

  “What about me?” I said, frowning.

  “Are there any wedding plans in your future?” he said, glancing back and forth at Max and me with a grin.

  “Also, probably sometime in the summer,” my mother said.

  “Knock it off, Mom.”

  “Prescient,” Josie said with a grin.

  “Wishful thinking.”

  Chapter 5

  We took the poodle back to our place on Seven Mile Beach and introduced her to our four bruisers. Al and Dente, Chef Claire’s Goldens, immediately welcomed Polly with licks and their tails wagging in synchronized double-time. Captain and Chloe were more cautious with the suspected interloper at first, but after five minutes, all five dogs were racing around the lawn then paddling furiously in the pool battling for the tennis balls we tossed in. Deciding that the poodle had passed her initial exam with flying colors, we left the dogs to their own devices and headed inside to shower and change for dinner at my mom’s house about a quarter mile away.

  A half-hour later with sandals in hand, we strolled along the beach with all five dogs in tow. They chased tennis balls and each other back and forth to the water’s edge, and we semi-successfully dodged the torrents of water they were shaking off after each trip into the shallow water near shore. A magnificent sunset dominated by orange and yellow was in progress, and by the time we reached my mom’s place, the dogs were finally worn out, panting, and more than ready for a cold drink and a nap. Josie herded all five into the garage then joined Chef Claire and me near the grill where we were keeping a close eye on what Henry was preparing. He was an elderly gentleman who lived in my mother’s guesthouse during the winter and in the main house the rest of the year when she was back in Clay Bay. Multi-skilled and utterly charming, Henry maintained the property and did a wide variety of tasks on my mother’s behalf including handling the majority of grilling we did on a regular basis.

  “That Mahi looks beautiful, Henry,” Chef Claire said as she cast a loving eye at the whole fish cooking over the hot coals. “What did you hit it with?”

  “I went with that lemon and garlic butter sauce you taught me,” he said, reaching for a large spatula and a set of tongs.

  “Oh, good call,” Chef Claire said, nodding.

  “You want to give me a hand flipping him?” Henry said, handing her the tongs. “I’d hate to have him break on us.”

  I watched them expertly turn the fish over then focused on the chicken breasts that were cooking on the other side of the grill.

  “So, the Wanderlust blew up before your eyes today,” Henry said, wiping his hands with a towel. “I’m sorry you had to see something like that.”

  “You’re familiar with the yacht?” I said, frowning.

  “Yes, I’ve seen it around from time to time,” Henry said. “But I didn’t know the Jensens.”

  “Did they live down here?” I said.

  “No, but I think one of their kids does,” he said, taking a sip of beer.

  “Do you know what they did for a living?” I said.

  “You mean apart from smuggling dope?” he said, raising an eyebrow.

  “You knew they were involved in that?” I said.

  “No, your mom told me what happened,” Henry said. “I had no idea. I’d heard they had some sort of import-export business.”

  “Interesting,” I said. “Do you know what sort of stuff they dealt with?”

  “You mean, apart from coke, right?” Josie deadpanned.

  “Yeah, apart from that,” I said, making a face at her.

  “I wouldn’t have a clue,” Henry said, nodding at the man my mother was chatting with near the pool. “But I know who would.”

  I glanced at the pool then back at Henry.

  “Of course,” I said, grinning. “You’re so good.”

  “Try not to annoy him before dinner,” Henry said, turning back to the grill.

  Josie and Chef Claire’s laughter followed me as I headed to a table near the pool where my mother and Paulie were sitting with Gerald, her good friend who was also the Finance Minister of the Cayman government. All three looked up at me, and Gerald pulled the empty chair next to him back to give me room to sit down.

  “Good evening,” I said. “How are you, Gerald?”

  “I’ve had better days,” he said. “I’m so sorry you had to witness that this afternoon.”

  “Thanks,” I said with a small shrug. “I just feel bad for the folks on the boat.” I paused then cocked my head at Gerald. “The Jensens, right?”

  “Please don’t start, darling,” my mother said, slowly stirring her drink as she stared at me.

  “Start what, Mom?” I said as I reached over to pet Queen, her King Charles spaniel that, as usual, was parked on her lap. “I just heard their name mentioned, that’s all.”

  “Yes,” Gerald said, nodding. “Jack and Jill Jensen.”

  “Jack and Jill?” I said, frowning. “As in, went up the hill?”

  “That’s the one,” Gerald said. “And we think there were at least three crew members onboard as well. Tragic.”

  “It certainly was,” I said. “I heard they were in the import-export business.”

  “Darling, please.”

  “It certainly doesn’t take you long, does it?” Gerald said with a small laugh.

  “I’m just trying to get some information so we can figure out what to do with their dog,” I said, deflecting.

  “Of course, you are,” my mother said, shaking her head. “Give it a rest, darling. It’s been a very tough day for some folks around here.”

  “Yeah, I imagine all the coke dealers are in mourning,” I whispered.

  Gerald cringed then took a long sip of his drink. He exhaled loudly and stared at me.

  “Okay, let’s get this over with,” he said, sitting back in his chair and draping a leg over his knee.

  “You don’t have to humor her, Gerald,” my mother said.

  “No, it’s all right,” Gerald said. “And she’s not going to stop until she gets all her questions answered.”

  “You know me so well,” I said, grinning at him.

  “They have a daughter who lives down here,” Gerald said. “She would be the person to talk to about the dog.” Then he frowned at me. “Did the dog really jump off the boat just before it blew up?”

  “She did,” I said. “And it was like the dog knew something bad was about to happen.”

  “Probably smelled the gas leak,” Gerald said.

/>   “So, that’s the official story?” I said. “The boat had a gas leak?”

  “Official story?” Gerald said. “What are you insinuating, Suzy?”

  “I’m not insinuating anything,” I said. “It just seems odd that a high-end yacht like that would blow up from something as mundane as a gas leak. Especially if they had a full-time crew working on it. You would think someone would have seen or smelled something.”

  “Accidents happen,” Gerald said.

  “It does seem odd,” Paulie said.

  “Thank you,” I said, flashing him a smile.

  “Don’t encourage her, Paulie,” my mother said, shaking her head.

  “I’m just saying,” he said, shrugging. “And I think I smelled diesel fumes.”

  “So?” Gerald said.

  “Diesel will explode eventually, but it’s not nearly as flammable as gasoline,” Paulie said. “It just seems strange that a diesel-powered yacht would explode the way it did. I would have expected to see a big fire, but not an explosion like that.”

  “Unless the fuel had been leaking for a long time,” Gerald said. “Maybe there were hundreds of gallons sitting in the bilge and something electrical sparked.”

  “It’s possible,” Paulie said with an indifferent shrug. “But it sounded like a bomb went off.”

  “Most explosions do,” Gerald said, agitated.

  “New topic, please,” my mother said.

  “Do you know the Jensen’s daughter?” I said.

  “I do,” Gerald said. “Her name is Jennifer.”

  “The family sure had a thing for the letter J,” I said. “Jennifer Jensen. She’s single?”

  “She is,” Gerald said. “And I’m sure she’s currently in mourning, so please tread carefully with her.”

  “Of course,” I said, my mind racing. “You’re probably not going to like my next question.”

  “Thanks for the warning,” Gerald said, focusing on me.

  “Did you know the Jensens were involved in drug smuggling?”

  Gerald cringed again and took a few moments to calm himself down.

  “I did not,” Gerald said, shaking his head. “But it certainly does help to explain a few things.”

  “Like what?” I said, frowning.

  “Like, none of your business,” he said, laughing.

  “A little snarky there, Gerald,” I said, laughing along. “What sort of things did their company sell?”

  “It was a lot of Asian products,” he said. “Fabrics and clothing, spices and food items, and I think they did some stuff with antiques.”

  “So, they spent a lot of time in Asia?” I said.

  “I’m sure they did,” Gerald said, reaching for his drink.

  “Is that where they developed their interest in cockfighting?”

  Gerald gave me a wide-eyed stare.

  “What on earth are you talking about?”

  “Cockfighting,” I said. “You know, big roosters, probably pumped full of steroids, with metal blades attached to their feet trying to kill each other.”

  “I know what it is, Suzy,” Gerald said. “But what makes you think the Jensens were involved with it?”

  “Probably because of all the rooster combs and wattles that fell from the sky right after the explosion. Along with the feathers.”

  Gerald squinted at me with a deep frown etched on his face.

  “Really?” he said after a long pause.

  “Yeah,” Paulie said. “I got hit by one of the beaks.”

  “Do you know if they were going to be visiting their daughter?” I said.

  “I’m sure they were,” Gerald said. “It’s about the only reason they ever visited. At least, I thought it was.”

  “Darling, if you upset their daughter by asking her a bunch of invasive questions, I’ll never forgive you.”

  “You always have before, Mom,” I said, going for a joke that fell flat. I waited out the glare she was giving me then focused on Gerald. “Is there cockfighting going on around here?”

  “I’m sure there is,” he said, shrugging.

  “But you don’t do anything to stop it?” I said, my voice rising.

  “Suzy, I’m the Finance Minister, not the Police Commissioner,” Gerald said.

  “Yeah, I get that. But still. There must be something you could do. It’s barbaric.”

  “It is,” he said, nodding. “But it’s way down my list of things to worry about. I’m sorry.”

  “Who would I talk to?”

  “You’re not going to talk to anyone about it,” my mother said. “It’s none of your business.”

  “Sure, sure.”

  “Lord, give me strength,” my mother said, shaking her head. “Or at least another cocktail.”

  “Henry’s waving at us,” Paulie said, standing up. “Let’s go eat.”

  I followed them to a long table that was set in the middle of the lawn and sat down next to Max and gave him a hug and a kiss. Josie and Chef Claire sat down across the table from us.

  “Where have you been?” he said, gently squeezing my hand.

  “I was just tormenting my mom and Gerald,” I said, glancing around at the array of dishes on display.

  “Again?” Max said, laughing.

  “Still,” I said, reaching for a bowl of fruit salad. “I was trying to figure out how to get in touch with someone about the poodle.”

  “And?”

  “And then we transitioned into cockfighting,” I said, munching on a piece of mango. “The conversation sort of went downhill from there.”

  “I guess some people just don’t get your whimsical side,” Max said, passing me a tray of chicken.

  “Aren’t you sweet,” I said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

  “Whimsy? Yeah, that’s the problem,” Josie said, laughing.

  “I don’t remember asking you for your opinion,” I said, frowning at her.

  “Hey, if I waited to be asked, I’d never get a word in.”

  Chapter 6

  After dinner, I left Max sitting with the other men as soon as they lit Cuban cigars and a cloud of smoke formed then hovered over the dinner table. I nodded at Josie and Chef Claire, and they followed me across the lawn to a small table near the pool. We sat down, and they both stared at me.

  “What’s on your mind?” Josie said. “You’ve been acting strange all night.”

  “Yeah, and it’s really hard to tell what that happens,” Chef Claire said, laughing. “So, something is definitely up.”

  “I don’t know how to say it,” I said, staring off into the night sky.

  “Has something happened between you and Max?” Josie said.

  “No, things are great.”

  “Are you sick?” Chef Claire said.

  “No.”

  “Then how bad can it be?” Josie said, then sat back in her chair when she saw my mother approaching.

  “What are you three up to huddled way over here in the corner?” my mother said, glancing around the table.

  “Suzy was just about to tell us that,” Josie said. “Have a seat.”

  “Yeah, that’s a good idea,” I said, pulling a chair back for her. “This concerns you as well.”

  “Oh, I don’t think I like the sound of this,” my mother said, sitting down and patting my hand.

  “I feel terrible about doing this,” I said.

  “Just go ahead and spit it out,” Josie said. “We’ll figure out a way to deal with whatever it is.”

  “It’s Wags,” I said.

  “Wags?” Josie said. “Okay, what about it?”

  “I hate it,” I blurted.

  “You hate dog toys?” Chef Claire said.

  “No, I hate owning a company that makes dog toys,” I said. “And I especially hate being the president of the board.”

  “I see,” Josie said with a grin.

  “I love the company and what it does,” I said. “It’s just not for me. And I’m afraid it’s going to start taking up way too much
of my time. I’ve spent my whole life avoiding everything corporate, and all of a sudden, I’m stuck right in the middle of corporate central. I want to spend my time working on the stuff I love doing.”

  “Like eating and taking care of dogs,” Chef Claire said.

  “And planning our new rescue program,” Josie said.

  “Exactly,” I said, nodding. “That’s what I want to spend my time doing. Along with running the Inn and the rescue program down here. And we’ve also got the restaurants. I’m so sorry. I feel terrible about letting you guys down, but I’m already miserable, and all the crap I really hate has barely started.”

  Josie and Chef Claire smiled at each other then looked at my mother.

  “You want to tell her?” Josie said to Chef Claire.

  “No, you go ahead,” Chef Claire said. “You say it much better than I do.”

  “Tell me what?” I said, glancing around the table.

  “We want out, too,” Josie said. “And we’ve been trying to figure out a way to tell you for about a month.”

  “You want out?” I said, stunned. “Why?”

  “For the same reason you do,” Chef Claire said. “I’m a chef, not some corporate board person. At first, it was a cool idea and a lot of fun getting it off the ground. But now, it’s all going to be about quarterly growth, marketing campaigns, and meetings. Don’t even get me started on the meetings. And who knows what other crap we’ll have to deal with.”

  “What she said,” Josie said, nodding at Chef Claire.

  “I think it’s a wonderful idea,” my mother said. “I’ve been hoping you’d eventually come to your senses. You have much more important things to worry about, darling.” Then she whispered under her breath. “Like giving me at least one grandkid.”

  “Wow,” I said, rubbing my forehead. “This is certainly going a lot better than I expected.”

  “You do tend to tie yourself into knots worrying about nothing,” Josie said. “I’m so relieved.”

  “So, what do we do?” I said. “We’ve got a small fortune sunk into the thing. Not to mention the livelihoods of all the people who work for us.”

  “We sell it,” my mother said, shrugging.