The Case of the Itinerant Ibizan

by B R Snow

  “What does she look like?” the clerk said.

  “Well, this is probably going to sound harsh, what with her being a relative and all, but she’s really thin, and her hair is usually sort of greasy and stringy. She’s not the most hygienic member of the family. And she has a black and red skull and crossbones tattoo on her right forearm.”

  “Oh. Her.”

  “So, you do know Jolene?” Sammy said.

  “Only well enough to stay away from her,” the clerk snapped, then immediately softened. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be talking about your cousin like that. At least in front of you.”

  “It’s okay. I understand. Jolene tends to have that effect on most people,” Sammy said.

  “She and her boyfriend rent the old Wilson place. It’s about four miles out of town. Get back on Route 3, head east, then take 37 South. If you hit Fort Drum, you’ve missed the turnoff. You’ll go a couple of miles south on 37, then you’ll see a dirt road with an old sign with the Wilson name on it. Take that road until it dead-ends. You’ll see the house right off to the right.”

  “Thank you so much,” Sammy said. “You’re very kind.”

  “No problem. Have a nice day,” the clerk said, waving as she went back to sorting mail.

  We headed outside to the car.

  “Interesting reaction,” I said.

  “Yeah, but not surprising,” Sammy said. “Jolene is very much an acquired taste. And I haven’t seen her in quite a while. Who knows how much further downhill she’s gone.”

  “How old is she?”

  “Let’s see,” Sammy said, frowning as he did the math. “She’s gotta be twenty-five. Yeah, that sounds about right.”

  “But she doesn’t look it, right?”

  “Your mom could pass for twenty-five easier than Jolene,” he said, shaking his head.

  I followed the mail clerk’s directions, and a few minutes later I parked the car at the end of a long dirt driveway. We got out of the car and looked around.

  “Remote,” Sammy said.

  “Very. And probably a good spot to do some serious cooking.”

  I followed Sammy up onto the porch that looked like it was about to detach itself from the rest of the house. A yellow lab with cloudy eyes was stretched out near the door and only managed a soft thump of its tail. He was seriously malnourished, and anger surged through me as I bent down to stroke the dog’s head. But I momentarily put my concerns for the dog aside and stood behind Sammy when he knocked on the door. A minute later, the door opened partway, and a haggard face appeared. The woman blinked as the sunlight hit her eyes, and it took her several seconds to focus. Then she recognized the person standing on the porch.

  “Sammy?”

  “Hi, Jolene. How are you doing?”

  “What on earth are you doing here?” she said, slipping through the door and closing it behind her.

  They shared a brief hug, and Sammy took a step back. Even though it was close to eighty degrees, she shivered when the gentle breeze hit her.

  “Jolene, I’d like you to meet Suzy. She’s my boss.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” she said, extending her arm to shake hands.

  “Nice to meet you too, Jolene,” I finally managed.

  I did my best not to stare at her. You could have given me a dozen guesses at her age, and I still wouldn’t have come within five years of the right number. To say she was skinny was like saying I had a bit of a thing for dogs. She looked like she hadn’t showered in at least a week, her eyes were red and glazed, and, as cruel as it was to have the thought, I was glad I was standing upwind. I noticed the tattoo on her forearm, but what captured most of my attention were the unmistakable needle tracks that ran along the inside of her arm.

  “So, what brings you out here?” she said.

  “I’m afraid I have some bad news for you,” Sammy said.

  “Okay,” she said, blankly.

  “It’s about your dad,” Sammy said.

  I watched her reaction closely and thought I saw her flinch. But she maintained eye contact with Sammy and cocked her head.

  “What about my father?”

  “I’m sorry to tell you this, Jolene. But he’s gone.”

  “Gone?” she said, frowning. “As in dead?”

  “Yes. He was murdered. And his body was found buried in the woods right outside of Clay Bay.”

  “They found his body?” she whispered. “I mean, he was buried?”

  “Yes.”

  Then Jolene summoned up everything she had to produce a few tears. She lowered her head, scratched at her needle tracks, then sat down in a lawn chair that was right next to the door.

  “I can’t believe it,” she said, running her hands through her hair.

  I’d soon seen all I needed to of her performance and refocused on the lab whose breathing seemed to be irregular. I glanced up when I heard the front door open.

  “Hey, Jolene,” a man snapped. “Have you seen my apron? I’m trying to get organized before I cook tonight and I can’t find it anywhere.”

  Then he noticed Sammy and I standing on the porch.

  “Who the hell are you?” he said, glancing back and forth at us.

  “Carl, this is my cousin, Sammy,” Jolene said, obviously relieved to have something else to focus on.

  “Your cousin?” he said, then focused on me. “And you are?”

  “Really worried about this dog,” I said, kneeling down. “When was the last time she ate?”

  “What?” the man said. “What business is that of yours?”

  “I’m kinda tight with Animal Protection,” I said, glaring back at him. Then I gave him my best crocodile smile. “So, here’s what I’d like to do. I’m going to take her with us when we leave. But don’t worry, I’m sure you won’t even realize she’s gone.”

  “No way. I don’t think that’s gonna happen,” Carl said. “Some stranger isn’t just gonna show up and take our dog.”

  “Okay, have it your way,” I said, grabbing my phone out of my pocket. “I’ll just call their office and report what looks like a severe case of animal abuse. I’m sure they won’t mind stopping by with a few of our friends from the state police to take a look around.”

  Carl broke eye contact, sniffed several times, then looked over at Jolene who nodded at him.

  “Knock yourself out,” he said, shrugging. “The dog is pretty much worthless.”

  “I’m sure it’s a learned behavior,” I deadpanned. “Foot of the master and all that.”

  “What?” Carl said, confused. “Hey, look lady. I don’t think I like-”

  “So, you’re doing some cooking tonight?” Sammy said, doing his best to de-escalate the situation.

  “Huh?” Carl said, then nodded. “Oh, yeah. I’m cooking tonight. Jolene and I are…having a barbecue.”

  “Really?” I said. “What are you having?”

  “You know. Just the usual,” Carl said.

  “Sounds delicious,” Sammy said. “I wish we weren’t busy tonight. I’d love to stick around and catch up.”

  Both Jolene and Carl visibly relaxed and exhaled.

  “Carl, Sammy just dropped by to tell me some very bad news about my dad. He died,” Jolene said.

  “I see. That’s too bad. I’m sorry to hear that, Jolene,” Carl said, scuffing the porch with the toe of his ratty sneaker. Then he looked at Sammy. “How do you know he’s dead?”

  “How do I know he’s dead?” Sammy said, bewildered. “It’s really not that hard to figure out.”

  “Yeah, sure. What with rigid mortis and all that. What I mean is, did you read about it in the paper? Maybe you got a phone call from somebody in the family.”

  “Oh, I see where you’re going,” Sammy said. “No, I saw the body.”

  “Really?” Carl said, frowning. “How the…I mean, that must have been…quite a shock.”

  “Yes,” I said, unable to contain myself. “Everyone is obviously very surprised by the news.”

&nb
sp; “Well, he had lots of problems,” Jolene said. “But I’m sure he’s in a better place now.”

  If her father had been here, and I was sure he had, I had to agree with her comment. Any place other than standing on the porch of this crumbling house with two sniffling junkies who were killing their own dog with willful neglect had to be better.

  “I just thought you should know in case you hadn’t heard, Jolene,” Sammy said.

  “I appreciate it, Sammy,” she said, choosing her words very carefully. “Do you need me to do anything? You know, like identify the body?”

  “I think we got that covered,” Sammy said.

  “Yeah, of course,” she said, flashing a small smile. “Duh.”

  “Okay, we’re going to get out of your hair,” Sammy said. “It was nice seeing you. Maybe after things settle down, we’ll all get together. Maybe we’ll have a barbecue, and I’ll get to check out Carl’s cooking abilities.”

  “That would be great, wouldn’t it, Carl?”

  “Yeah, great.”

  “Are you ready to go, Suzy?” Sammy said.

  “All set,” I said, sighing. “I guess it was too much to expect that these guys would know anything about the money. I guess it’s back to the drawing board, right?”

  Sammy stared at me, confused, but then he caught on and nodded.

  “Yeah, back to the drawing board. I don’t think we’re ever going to find out who it belongs to.”

  “Money?” Jolene said.

  “Yeah,” I said, gently stroking the dog’s ribcage. “The police found an envelope stuffed with cash next to the body.”

  “What?” Carl said.

  “Yeah,” Sammy said. “A whole bunch of cash. How much was it again, Suzy?”

  “I think it was around a hundred thousand.”

  “A hundred grand?” Carl said. “What? How the…why would he have been walking around with that much money?”

  “Nobody seems to know,” I said.

  “It’s quite a mystery,” Sammy said.

  “What’s going to happen to the money?” Jolene said.

  “I don’t know,” I said, shrugging. “All they found on the envelope were the initials TN. And that’s not much to go on.”

  “Maybe it’ll be donated to a charity,” Sammy said.

  “Like Animal Protection,” I said.

  “Exactly. Well, we better get going.”

  “Hang on,” Carl said. “Where’s this money at?”

  “I think Chief Abrams probably has it,” I said. “He’s the Clay Bay chief of police.”

  “Maybe we should talk to him,” Carl said. “I mean, what with Jolene being the lawful heir and all that.”

  “I guess it couldn’t hurt,” I said, shrugging. “But he’ll probably have some questions for you.”

  “What sort of questions?” Jolene said.

  “You know. Just the usual,” I said, smiling at Carl. “Whenever the cops find that much cash next to a dead body, their minds tend to drift toward the illegal side of the street. Cops are funny that way.”

  “Yeah, funny,” Carl said.

  “It was nice meeting both of you,” I said. “We’ll catch you later.”

  I bent down and scooped the dog up into my arms. She was light as a feather, and I headed for the car fighting every urge to head back to the house and kick the crap out of both of them. I gently put the dog in the backseat, tossed the keys to Sammy, and climbed in next to the lab. I located a bag of dog treats and spent the most of the drive home hand feeding them to her one at a time. Then the dog let loose with a contented sigh and fell asleep on my lap. I patted her head, and realized, once again, how easy it was to judge the quality of people just from the way they treated animals.

  “You did good, Sammy.”

  “Thanks. But I feel bad. I kept trying to find a way to feel sorry for her, but I’ve got nothing but contempt. They’re both despicable.”

  “Yes, they are,” I said, stroking the lab’s head. “I particularly liked the way she didn’t even bother to ask how her father died.”

  “Yeah, I noticed. So much for the grieving daughter,” Sammy said. “Where did you come up with the story about the money? That was brilliant.”

  “I was looking for a way to screw with what’s left of their heads, and I figured that if anything could get them to do something really stupid, it would be thought of getting their hands on a stack of cash.”

  “You think they’re going to get in touch with Chief Abrams?”

  “Oh, I’m sure they will. If you were in their shoes, wouldn’t you?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, glancing at me through the rear-view mirror. “If I was cooking meth, I’d probably want to keep as much distance as I could between me and the cops.”

  “Yes, that’s what a person with a working brain would do,” I said.

  “Yeah, you’re probably right. Those two are definitely a couple tacos short of a fiesta platter,” he said, shaking his head. “Where did you come up the initials? You lost me with that one. Who’s TN?”

  “Tommy Nostril.”

  “Should I know who that is?”

  “No, definitely not. You’ve done more than enough. It’s time to let the pros handle it from here.”

  “Oh, so you’re gonna back off too?” he deadpanned through the mirror.

  “Funny.”

  Chapter 17

  I sat back as the waiter topped off our wine glasses and glanced around the dining room. C’s, as it always was on Friday nights, was jam-packed and loud. I took a sip of wine and shook my head in amazement as I watched Josie make short work of her stuffed mushrooms. She set her knife and fork on her plate, wiped her mouth, then took a sip of water and sighed contentedly.

  “What?” she said, catching a glimpse of my stare out of the corner of her eye. “Did I spill something on myself?”

  “Hard to tell,” I said. “Everything is such a blur when you’re eating.”

  “Shut it.”

  Chief Abrams, sitting between us, chuckled as he worked on his salad.

  “So, they finally called you?” I said.

  “Yeah, it must have taken them a couple of days to work up the courage,” he said, laughing. “Cops and cookers usually only talk when there’s an arrest involved.”

  “How are you going to handle the mysterious hundred grand?” Josie said.

  “I thought I’d start by asking them a whole bunch of questions about where the money could have come from and go from there,” he said. “It shouldn’t take long for them to talk themselves into a corner.”

  “Good plan,” I said, nodding. “How do you want to deal with the mysterious Tommy Nostril?”

  “I thought I’d take Sunday off and you and I would take a trip over to Kingston to check out that address.”

  “As a couple of tourists just visiting, right?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Did you give the Sniffle Twins a specific time to come in?” I said to Chief Abrams.

  I wish I could take credit for the nickname we’d given Jolene and Carl, but Josie had come up with it soon after I’d given her the update about our visit the other day.

  “They said they’d like to come in as soon as they get up tomorrow,” Chief Abrams said.

  “Let me guess,” I said. “Two-thirty?”

  “Close. Three,” he said, shaking his head. “They said they work nights and like to sleep in.”

  “All that night cooking must be exhausting,” I said, laughing. “I’ll be there before three.”

  “I’d be shocked if you weren’t,” he said, taking another bite of his salad.

  “Maybe they’ll blow themselves up and do all of us a favor,” Josie said, starting to work on her salad.

  “A bit harsh, don’t you think?” Chief Abrams said.

  “Not really,” she said, shaking her head. “After what they did to that poor dog? If Suzy and Sammy hadn’t shown up, she would have died on that porch. She didn’t have much fight left in he
r.”

  “But she’s going to be, okay, right?” Chief Abrams said.

  “Eventually,” Josie said, staring at her fork. “What is that?”

  “Beet,” I said, glancing over.

  “Since when does Chef Claire put beets in the house salad?”

  “She’s just doing a test run to see how people like it,” I said.

  “Well, make her stop,” Josie said as she speared all of the intruders with her fork and put them on a separate plate. “The dog will be fine. But I’ve still got her on an IV. And we’ll need to keep slowly increasing her calories.”

  “So, you can’t just feed her what you normally would?” Chief Abrams said.

  “No, but that’s what a lot of people think they should do. When anything, including people, is starving, you have to be careful about how much you feed them until they’re ready for it. The body adjusts to not having food, and if you overdo it too quickly, you can do a lot of damage. Even kill them if you’re not careful.”

  “I did not know that,” Chief Abrams said. Then he grinned.

  “What’s so funny?” Josie said.

  “I just never thought I’d be learning about starvation from you,” he said.

  I snorted and almost spilled my wine.

  “You’re pretty funny for a cop,” Josie said, then turned to me. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. When I asked all the summer hires for a volunteer to stay with the lab tonight, Jenny raised her hand again. That’ll be four nights in a row. She’s totally bonded with the dog and will probably want to adopt her. And she says she wants to pick up all the overtime she can get. So, it’s another night down at the Inn for her.”

  “Better her than us, right?” I said.

  “Yeah, we’ve done more than our share of condo overnighters,” Josie said, frowning at her salad. “Yuk. See, that’s what I’m talking about. The beet is bleeding all over the romaine.”

  I took a sip of wine and stared off into the distance.

  “What?” Josie said.

  “Our biggest problem is beets in the salad. How spoiled have we gotten?”

  “Suzy, please don’t start with the Don’t hate me because I’m rich thing again. I’m trying to enjoy my dinner.”

  “I’m not starting anything.”