The Case of the Prescient Poodle

by B R Snow

  “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” I said, laughing.

  Chloe barked once and continued to stare at the tennis ball. I fired it into the deep end of the pool and watched as she raced after it then dove into the water. Captain and Polly were wrestling in the water over a chew toy and playfully growling at each other. I took a sip of my still cold beer and saw Rooster heading our way carrying a tray. Al and Dente, draped around Chef Claire’s legs, went on point and stared at Rooster as he placed the tray on a table and sat down. The three of us, trailed by both Goldens, got up from our loungers and joined him.

  “What do we have here?” Josie said, studying the collection of appetizers and small sandwiches.

  “Pretty much a little bit of everything,” Rooster said, selecting one of the sandwiches. “This is the pork roast that Chef Claire brought home from the restaurant. I toasted the baguette and hit it with some of that fig jam.”

  “You’re hired,” Chef Claire said, laughing. Then something caught her eye, and she waved at Henry who was walking up from the beach.

  “Hey, Henry,” Josie said. “You’re just in time for a snack.”

  All three dogs clamored out of the pool to greet him and proceeded to shake all over him.

  “Sorry about that, Henry,” I said.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said, bending down to pet them. “It actually feels pretty good. I was wondering if I could borrow your hedge clippers. Mine just snapped in half.”

  “Sure, help yourself,” I said. “They’re in the garage.”

  He waved and headed off, and we turned our attention back to the nosh plate Rooster had put together. Henry reappeared a few moments later and approached the table. He bent down to say hello to Al and Dente then helped himself to one of the mini-sandwiches. He took a bite and nodded his approval.

  “Say, Henry?” I said, taking a sip of my beer. “I’ve got a question for you.”

  “Your mother says I should be on guard every time you say that,” he said, laughing.

  “No, this is an easy one,” I said. “Where would I find the local cockfight?”

  “You want to go to a cockfight?” he said, frowning at me.

  “Well, I don’t really want to,” I said, shrugging. “It’s more like I have to.”

  “Someone is making you go to a cockfight?” he said, polishing off the last of his sandwich and reaching for another.

  “It’s more of a self-inflicted mandate,” I said.

  Josie and Chef Claire snorted.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Suzy,” Henry said, sitting down in the empty chair next to mine.

  “I’d be shocked if you did,” I said, laughing.

  “No, I’m serious,” he said. “From what I hear, those things can get pretty rowdy.”

  “Save your breath, Henry,” Josie said, building a nosh plate. “We’ve spent the last hour trying to talk her out of it.”

  “Does your mom know you’re going?”

  “No, and she doesn’t need to know,” I said, cocking my head at him. “Okay?”

  “You can’t go there by yourself, Suzy.”

  “Josie and Rooster are coming with me,” I said.

  Henry glanced at them, and they confirmed it with a nod.

  “Okay,” Henry said. “I really don’t think it’s a good idea. But I’ll make a call.”

  “Who are you going to call?” I said.

  “The guy that organizes them is an acquaintance of mine,” Henry said, getting up from his chair.

  “Acquaintance? He’s not a friend?” I said.

  “No, he’s not. And if you happen to meet him, which I don’t recommend, you’ll know why.” He grabbed a wedge of cheese from the tray. “I’ll text you the directions. And try not to do anything stupid while you’re there.”

  He waved and headed off, pausing long enough to say goodbye to all the dogs.

  “Well, he certainly got my attention,” Josie said.

  “Me too,” Rooster said.

  “You think it might be dangerous?” Josie said.

  “For the roosters?” I said. “I’m sure it will be.”

  “Good one,” Josie said. “I think we should dress down for it. You know, so we’ll blend in with the crowd.”

  “That’s a great idea,” I said.

  “I may need a few fashion tips,” Josie said, grinning at Chef Claire and Rooster. “Are you sure you can’t join us?”

  “No, there’s another cruise ship coming in tomorrow,” Chef Claire said. “The restaurant is going to be jammed.”

  “You’re working way too hard,” Josie said.

  “Tell me about it,” she said. “I’m thinking about hiring another sous chef.”

  “Go for it,” I said.

  “It would put a dent in our margin,” Chef Claire said.

  “So what?” Josie said. “You’re about to become independently wealthy.”

  “That’s right. I am,” she said, smiling as she raised her beer in a toast. “To my new horse.”

  “You’re gonna buy a horse?” Josie said.

  “I am,” she said, nodding. “And since you guys are about to open a rescue program right behind the Inn, I’ll have a place to keep it.”

  “A horse?” Josie said, nodding. “Nice.” Then she frowned.

  “What’s the matter?” I said.

  “I’m just thinking about us going to the cockfight.”

  “Are you worried?” I said.

  “Actually, I am getting a weird vibe about going,” Josie said.

  “Well, why don’t we check with our expert?” I said, laughing. “Polly. Come here, girl.”

  “Don’t start,” Josie said, shaking her head.

  “No, this should be good,” I said, reaching down to pet the poodle. “She’s such a good girl. What a good girl.”

  “You’re so weird,” Josie said.

  “Polly, we’re going to go to a cockfight. A cockfight. What do you think about that?”

  The poodle stared up at me, then nudged my arm and barked loudly. Then she nudged my arm again and sat down on my feet. I stared at the dog, then glanced around the table.

  “Wow,” I said, confused. “That’s odd. She probably knows the word because her owner used to go all the time, right?”

  Josie and Rooster frowned at the dog, then at each other.

  “That must be it,” I said, then focused on the dog. “What’s the matter, Polly? Don’t you think we should go to the cockfight?”

  The dog barked again and nuzzled my leg. But she remained solidly planted on my feet.

  “She’s freaking me out,” Josie said.

  “I’m sure it’s just a coincidence,” I said, rubbing the dog’s head. “Right?”

  Chapter 13

  I turned left off Eastern Avenue and gripped the steering wheel tight as I waited for Josie’s next instruction. I glanced through the rearview mirror into the backseat of the jeep where Rooster was keeping a watchful eye on our surroundings.

  “It’s certainly a different world over here,” he said.

  “Henry said to be prepared for the neighborhood,” I said. “He said it can be a little sketchy.”

  “Well, I doubt if we’re going to find cockfighting at the Ritz-Carlton,” Josie said. “Make your next right.”

  I slowed down and made the turn. The neighborhood changed again, and I saw several makeshift houses bathed in dim light.

  “Henry said that after the last major hurricane, a lot of people just rebuilt from scrap materials they found scattered around,” I said. “Wow, this is a tough way to live.”

  “I think Gerald should make some housing money available,” Josie said. “After all, he is the Finance Minister. You should say something the next time you visit him.”

  “Oh, I’m never going back to his office,” I said, shaking my head.

  “Just because a cinnamon ball tried to kill you?” Josie said, laughing. “Make a right just after the house with the red door.”


  “Why doesn’t anybody use actual street addresses down here?” I said. “It would make things a whole lot easier.”

  I made the turn and headed down a dark street. I slowed to a crawl and glanced around.

  “Maybe Polly was right,” I said. “Did you see the way she tugged at my leg before we left tonight?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” Rooster said. “That dog is really starting to freak me out.”

  “Tell me about it,” Josie said. “Okay, we’re close. Henry’s directions say to keep going until you see two streetlights directly across the street from each other.”

  “There they are. About a hundred feet dead ahead,” I said, surprised. “I guess I can park anywhere, right?”

  Josie shrugged, and I came to a stop. We climbed out of the jeep and huddled under the streetlamp on our side of the street. Josie held the directions out so we could read them.

  “Yellow house with a dirt path on the right side,” Rooster said, glancing around.

  “There it is,” Josie said, pointing at the dilapidated structure. “Okay, let’s get this over with.”

  We slowly headed for the path, huddling inches apart as we walked. My head was on a swivel as my stomach churned, and I wondered momentarily if I’d finally lost my mind. It was ten o’clock at night, and instead of lounging by the pool with the dogs before heading off to get a good night’s sleep, I was walking down an unlit dirt path about to watch armed roosters battle to the death.

  We soon heard the muffled sounds of loud voices and excited chatter. At the end of the path, a large man smoking a cigarette was leaning against a door. The makeshift structure was quite large, perhaps even a bit bigger than the house, and a solitary lightbulb hung above the door. The man crushed his cigarette out with his foot and gave us the once-over. He continued to stare at us as we approached.

  “Hi,” I said with a big smile. “We’re here for the cockfight.”

  “Cockfight?” he said, folding his arms across his chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re playing bingo.”

  “Our friend Henry spoke with Ramon earlier today,” I said.

  “Good for Henry,” the man said, refusing to budge from in front of the door.

  “Oh, hang on a sec,” Josie said, removing Henry’s directions from the pocket of her jeans. “I forgot. Henry said we might need the code.”

  “Code?” I said, frowning.

  “B12,” Josie said to the man.

  “Bingo. That’s the one,” the man said as he took a few steps away from the door. “That’ll be ten bucks each.”

  I dug the money out of my jeans and handed it over.

  “Enjoy your evening. We have six fights on the card tonight.”

  We headed inside and remained in the doorway as we took a good look around. In the center of the dirt floor was a circular ring about twelve-feet wide separated from the rest of the cramped space by a plywood barrier about three feet high. Spectators ringed the barrier and were stacked six deep. I estimated that there were over a hundred people in attendance. A thick cloud of smoke hung over the room, and the pungent scent of cheap cigars filled my nostrils and reminded me of ammonia. At least, I was pretty sure the ammonia smell was coming from the cigars. It certainly hadn’t been used as a cleaning product. The ring was empty, but the anticipation was building, and I watched a bald man waddle his way through a set of black curtains then step into the ring. His torso was way too big for his legs, and he was sweating profusely with a stubby cigar wedged between his teeth. Two large gold hoops hung from his ears, and he paused to scratch himself before he welcomed everyone and informed us that the first bout would begin in five minutes. Then he waddled back through the curtains.

  “That must be Ramon,” Josie said.

  “Good guess,” I said, glancing around. “Look at all the money people are holding.”

  “Big money,” Rooster said, nodding as took in the surroundings. “Where do you want to stand?”

  “Someplace where we can get a good look at who’s here,” I said.

  “And a place where we won’t be able to see the fights,” Josie said. “This is disgusting.”

  “No argument there,” Rooster said, pointing at the other side of the room near the black curtains that separated the audience from the area where I assumed the roosters and their handlers were waiting.

  We slowly worked our way through the crowd, drew only a few quizzical looks, and came to a stop directly in front of the curtains.

  “They have a beer vendor,” Rooster said, shaking his head. “Nothing like knocking back a couple of cold ones while you watch some roosters hack themselves to death.”

  “That’s enough, Rooster. I don’t need a play by play announcer,” Josie said, surveying the scene. “But let me know if you spot anybody selling snacks.”

  I continued to scan the crowd, then flinched when my eyes landed on a group of people standing near the ring on the opposite side from us.

  “What is it?” Josie said.

  “Those are the folks I saw at Jennifer Jensen’s place,” I said, focusing on the couple I had spoken with by the pool. “That’s interesting.”

  “And they look like they’re ready to do some serious betting,” Rooster said.

  Then I flinched again when my eyes landed on another familiar face. I used both elbows to nudge Rooster and Josie, and they followed my eyes.

  “How about that?” Josie said.

  “What the heck is he doing here?”

  My eyes narrowed as I glared at Gerald who was wearing a floppy hat and sunglasses along with a nondescript work shirt and khaki pants. But even though he was doing his best to look like a gardener, I recognized him immediately. He was chatting quietly with a young man, and they were both sipping beers.

  “Never been to a cockfight before, huh? Gerald lied to me. Why would he do that?”

  “That’s a very good question,” Josie said. “Do you know who he’s with?”

  “No, I’ve never seen him before.”

  “Do you want to go over and have a chat with him?”

  “No, in fact, I hope he doesn’t even notice we’re here,” I said. “I’d like to figure out what he’s up to. The little liar.”

  Ramon appeared through the curtains trailed by two men who were each carrying a small cage with a rooster inside. They opened a gate in the plywood barrier and entered the ring. Ramon announced the two contestants as the men opened the cages then held their roosters and stroked their feathers as they armed the birds. A few moments later, the glint of metal blades attached to the roosters’ feet got the crowd buzzing even louder, and stacks of cash began changing hands. I felt my stomach churn again.

  “This is sick,” I said as all three men left the ring.

  “That’s the word for it,” Josie said, staring into the ring as the roosters slowly approached each other.

  Then the two roosters bounced into each other, and one of the birds hopped into the air kicking its legs and landed a blow on the other rooster’s chest. A red patch quickly began forming on top of the bird’s feathers.

  “That poor thing. We gotta stop this,” I whispered.

  “How the heck are we going to do that?” Rooster said, frowning at me.

  “We need a diversion,” I said.

  “Like what?” Rooster said.

  “We need something that will make them all leave,” I said. “And not come back.”

  “Cockfighting is illegal, right?” Josie said.

  “It certainly is,” I said. “But from what Gerald and Detective Renfro told me, the cops don’t seem to care.”

  “Yes,” Josie said, with an evil grin. “But these people don’t know that.”

  Rooster and I beamed at Josie.

  “You’re so good,” I said, giving her a hug. Then I looked at Rooster. “You should do it. You’ve got that big, deep voice.

  “My pleasure,” Rooster said, glancing around. Then he wrapped himself in one of the curtains and dis
appeared from sight. “You ready?”

  “Go for it,” I said, inching closer to the curtain.

  “This is the police! Nobody move! This is a raid!”

  Cries of surprise followed by nervous chatter ensued, then everyone in the room made a beeline for the exits. We stood back to watch, and several people brushed against us as they hurriedly made their way through the curtains. Soon, the area surrounding the ring was empty, and I peeked through the curtains and realized that everyone had also cleared out of the back room. But they had left the roosters behind.

  “Come on, let’s go,” I said, tugging both their sleeves.

  “Where are we going?” Josie said, confused.

  “To do some rooster rescue,” I said, stepping into the back room.

  I glanced around and noticed the remaining ten roosters standing in their own small cages. Josie and Rooster both frowned.

  “There’s no way we can carry all these cages,” Josie said.

  “But we can carry two each,” I said. “We can double up on some of them. Two roosters to a cage.”

  “I doubt if they’re going to like that,” Josie said.

  “Probably not,” I said, opening one of the cages and grabbing a very surprised bird that kicked his legs and voiced his displeasure. “But it sure beats the alternative they’re looking at. C’mon. Hurry up.”

  “When you’re right, you’re right,” Josie said, reaching into another cage. “Ow, the little bugger bit me.”

  “Don’t you mean pecked?”

  “Don’t nitpick,” Josie said.

  Rooster grabbed two of the cages and glanced around.

  “How are we going to get out of here?” he said.

  “We’ll go out the back,” I said, grabbing two cages. “Then we’ll work our way up the path and head for the jeep.”

  “I don’t like this,” Rooster said, heading for the door.

  “C’mon, we gotta hurry,” I said, struggling with the cages that were bouncing off my knees. “They’ll be coming back for their birds.”

  “I doubt if anybody is coming back soon,” Rooster said. “Did you see the way Gerald hightailed it out of there?”