The Case of the Abandoned Aussie

by B R Snow

  As it drew closer, I recognized Carl. We exchanged waves and Chloe also recognized him and stopped growling. But she continued to watch the boat closely. I got up and grabbed the side of Carl’s boat as it came alongside ours.

  “Hi, Suzy,” he said. “I thought that was you. Hey, Chloe. Who’s the good girl? Man, she’s getting big.” Carl looked away from the dog and got his first good look at Josie. “Wow.”

  “Did you say something, Carl?” I said, laughing.

  “Sorry,” he said, embarrassed by the involuntary outburst. “Hi, Josie.”

  “Hello, Carl,” Josie said with a quick wave before returning to her potato salad.

  “What are you up to?” I said.

  “I’m just running a few errands.”

  “How are things at the island?” I said, picking up my sandwich before Chloe got any ideas.

  “The usual,” he said, laughing. “Intense hatred spiced with a bit of intrigue.”

  “Intrigue?”

  “There’s a feeling around the place like something big is about to happen, but nobody knows what it is or when it’s going to happen,” Carl said, sneaking a quick glance at Josie sitting on the thick cushion that ran the length of the stern. She was already making quick work of one of the brownies. “It’s been quiet this morning, but I still used the excuse of running errands to get out of there.”

  “So, Mrs. Crawford is still there?” I said.

  “Oh, yeah. I doubt if she’s going anywhere for a while. At least not until she finishes what she calls her recovery therapy.”

  “You lost me, Carl,” I said, taking a bite of my half-eaten turkey club. I needed to catch up and finish it before Josie worked her way through the whole bag of brownies.

  “That’s what she calls it,” he said, continuing to grasp the side of our boat with one hand. “To me, it’s what I’ve always called spring cleaning.”

  “Mrs. Crawford? Cleaning?” I said.

  “Yup. She’s cleaning everything. Right down to the inside of every cabinet and drawer in the house.”

  I nodded and glanced at Josie. For some reason, I didn’t feel the need to tell Carl that not only did we know what she was looking for, but that it was safely tucked away in a plastic bag in my pocket.

  “She doesn’t seem like the type to spend a lot of her time cleaning,” Josie said.

  “That’s what I thought,” Carl said. “I offered to find her a cleaning crew to hire, but she said it was something she needed to do herself. That was when she used the term recovery therapy. I guess I get where she’s coming from.” He stood straight up and let go of our boat. “Besides, it looks like it might be her island now. She can do whatever she wants around the place. I need to run. It was nice seeing both of you.” He glanced at me, then lingered on Josie.

  “Why do you say it looks like it’s hers?” I said, unable to resist that juicy tidbit. Josie even put her brownie down to listen.

  “She says Crawford gave it to her in the divorce,” Carl said, shrugging. “And I guess nobody has come up with any documentation to say he didn’t. Mrs. Crawford says it’s her word against his. I laughed when she said it because I thought it was funny. Nobody else did. I’ll see you guys around.”

  He waved at us and slowly drove off in the direction of the public town dock.

  “Do you think he’s somehow playing us, or is Carl just a bit slow on the uptick?” Josie said.

  “Yeah, that was odd, wasn’t it?” I said, polishing off my sandwich and grabbing the last brownie from the bag. Chloe sat and stared at the brownie. “Sorry, girl. But no chocolate for you.”

  I looked at Josie, who was stretching out on the back cushion and holding her stomach.

  “It doesn’t seem fair that dogs aren’t able to eat something as delicious as chocolate.”

  “More for us,” Josie said, laughing. “Ugh, I ate too much. I’m full.”

  “Why would Carl feel the need to do that?”

  “Well, if he was doing it intentionally, and I’m not sure he was, it’s what criminals do,” Josie said.

  “I’m going to need a bit more, Josie.”

  Josie struggled to sit upright. She took a long sip of Diet Coke, then burped loudly. “Excuse me. Oh, that’s much better. Criminals try to deflect attention, introduce some misdirection. You know, do anything to keep the light from shining on them.”

  “Based on the way he explained the situation, wouldn’t that would mean he’s working with Mrs. Crawford?”

  “I guess it could,” Josie said.

  “But what does he have to gain?” I said, then shook my head. “Never mind. Dumb question. Money. Maybe lots of it.”

  “Or the island?” Josie said. “If she does own it, I can’t see her ever wanting to spend any time there. It would be quite the parting gift for Carl if she’s able to pull it off.”

  “Assuming she’s trying to pull something off,” I said, sneaking a piece of turkey I’d saved to Chloe.

  “I saw that,” Josie said. “Don’t get her too used to people food.”

  “Turkey’s good for her,” I said, rubbing Chloe’s head.

  “Just not too much or you’ll turn her into a total mooch.”

  “Okay, Doc. Whatever you say.”

  “What was with that growling?” Josie said. “I’ve never heard anything like that come from her.”

  “That was strange,” I said. “But she stopped when she recognized Carl. So we know she wasn’t growling at him.”

  “That means she was growling at the boat,” Josie said.

  “You know what that means, right?”

  “That Chloe remembered being on that boat and had a bad experience that stuck with her.”

  “Yes,” I said, “An experience like watching your owner get attacked and thrown overboard.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And also remembering being thrown overboard herself,” I said.

  “And left to struggle to survive in the water all night until we found her the next morning.”

  My stomach churned as I wondered how anyone could toss a defenseless puppy into the River in the dead of night. I tried to generate the same amount of outrage for the deceased Mr. Crawford but came up short. It was funny how that worked. I could watch twenty people get massacred in a movie but not come close to the degree of anger I felt if someone so much laid a finger on a defenseless animal. I’ve been known to come out of my seat in protest when that happened.

  Josie stood and pulled on her shorts and buttoned her shirt. She sat back down and patted the seat. Chloe trotted over to her and jumped up on the seat. I took my cue and started the boat and headed for Candyland Island.

  Chapter 20

  I slowed as we approached the boathouse on the far side of the island. The boat slip at the far end was empty, which made sense since we’d just seen Carl in Clay Bay fifteen minutes ago. All the other slips were still full and seemed identical to the last time we’d been here. I pulled up to the dock, and Josie hopped out and tied the boat off. Chloe climbed onto the dock and led the way.

  “The boat Carl’s driving would have been perfect to use for taking care of Crawford,” I said, walking next to Josie along the dock.

  “It certainly would. And that would put to rest the myth of the sunken boat.”

  “Yeah. It’s not surprising nobody found anything after the accident, huh? No stray boat cushions washed up on shore. No chunks of a shattered boat found floating.”

  “You think it’s time we had a little chat with Mrs. Crawford?” Josie said, starting to climb the long flight of stone steps that led to the main house.

  “Since we’re about to give her the key she’s been looking everywhere for,” I said, gasping and making a silent vow to get back to the gym, “I think the least she can do is talk with us and answer a few questions.”

  “We need to go easy, though,” Josie said. “Let’s not go straight for the jugular with ‘Would you mind telling us why you killed your husband, Marge?’ Okay?”<
br />
  “Yeah, don’t worry,” I said, reaching the top step and pausing to take several deep breaths. “I won’t open with that one.”

  Josie laughed and hopped up the front steps onto the front porch. She and Chloe waited until I managed to drag myself up the final steps. Josie started to push the doorbell but stopped when she noticed the front door was partially open.

  “What do you think?” she said.

  “Let’s ring the doorbell,” I said, desperate for a few extra seconds to catch my breath.

  Josie rang the bell, and it reverberated through the house. We waited several seconds and then Josie knocked loudly on the door. We waited some more, and Josie glanced at me. I shrugged, and we pushed the door open and stepped inside. The house seemed empty, but it sure was clean. In fact, it was spotless. If Mrs. Crawford ever decided to set up shop as a housekeeper, I had a place in mind she could start.

  We walked through the foyer, calling out, but received no response. We entered the library and looked around.

  “I don’t think anybody’s here,” Josie said. “What do you want to do?”

  “It’s a big house,” I said. “Maybe they just can’t hear us. Let’s keep looking for a bit.”

  “You’re in the mood to do a little snooping, aren’t you?”

  “Maybe a little,” I said. “But I prefer the term curious.”

  “I’m sure you do,” she said, crossing the massive library and going through the door that led to the dining room. “No dirty dishes,” Josie said, glancing around the table. “And the tablecloth is fresh.”

  “Man, this place is immaculate,” I said. “She hasn’t missed a spot. Let’s take a look in the kitchen. Maybe Chef Claire is around somewhere.”

  I pushed the swinging door open and poked my head inside. I scanned the huge industrial kitchen that was empty and was about to let the door close when Chloe sat down in the doorway, refused to move and started barking.

  “What is it, girl?” I said, kneeling down to scratch her ears. She shook my hand away and continued barking and started scratching at the tile floor.

  “That’s odd,” Josie said.

  I pushed the door open until I felt the latch catch. Chloe tentatively stepped through the doorway and barked as she took one step forward, then two steps back. She sat down and looked up at me and barked again.

  “Okay, okay,” I said. “I’ll check it out.”

  I stepped into the kitchen and looked around.

  “I don’t see anything,” I said.

  Chloe continued to bark, and it was starting to get on my nerves. I shushed her and walked further into the kitchen until I reached the large granite island where I’d eaten dinner with Chef Claire. Further convinced the kitchen was empty, I was about to exit when I caught a glimpse of something on the floor on the other side of the island. I leaned over the island, and my turkey club threatened to return when I saw the body sprawled on the floor.

  “Geez,” I said, shaking my head. “Wow. What a mess.”

  “What is it?” Josie said, peering around the corner of the kitchen island. “Oh, no. That poor woman.”

  I stood next to Josie, picked up Chloe in my arms to keep her from tracking through the gooey mess on the floor and looked down at the vacant stare on Marge Crawford’s face.

  “She’s dead, right?” I said.

  “Oh, yeah,” Josie said. “No doubt about it.”

  “And that’s maple syrup mixed in with all the blood, isn’t it?”

  “That would be my guess,” Josie said, reaching for her phone. “Isn’t Jackson supposed to get back from his conference today?”

  “I think that’s right,” I said, unable to take my eyes off the expression on Mrs. Crawford’s face. “She looks surprised.”

  Josie glanced down, then nodded in agreement. “Yeah, she does. But I imagine catching a knife that big in the neck might come as a bit of a shock.”

  I shifted my eyes to the large chef’s knife that was still embedded. Josie made the call, put the phone on speaker and set it down on the island.

  “Hello,” said the familiar voice.

  “Hi, Jackson,” Josie said.

  “Did you call just to welcome me home? That was sweet of you. Hey, I was about to swing by the Inn and pick up Sluggo. Are you in the office?”

  “No, actually I’m not. And you might want to hold off on picking Sluggo up for a while.”

  “I don’t think I like the sound of this,” Jackson said.

  “No, you’re not going to like it at all, Jackson,” I said.

  “Hey, Suzy. What are you guys up to?”

  “We’re at Candyland Island,” I said.

  “Should I ask why?”

  “That question can probably wait. But you need to get over here. In an official capacity.”

  “You want to tell me why?” Jackson said.

  “Not on the phone,” I said. “But you’ll understand as soon as you get here.”

  “Are you guys in any danger?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” I said, glancing at Josie for confirmation.

  “Okay, I’m on my way.”

  “Oh, and Jackson?” Josie said.

  “Yes?”

  “If you can track down Freddie, bring him along.”

  “And the state police, too,” I chimed in.

  Chapter 21

  We were sitting on the front porch when we saw Jackson’s police boat approach the island. I recognized Freddie Sands, the county medical examiner, and Alice, Jackson’s summer intern we’d met the day we discovered the first body. Sitting in the back of the boat was a state policeman I didn’t know.

  “Alice the Intern is certainly getting quite the experience this summer,” Josie said.

  “She’ll have lots of stories to tell back at school,” I said.

  “Yeah, right after she changes majors,” Josie said.

  I laughed but stopped when I remembered the tragic circumstances that had brought the police boat to the island. Respect for the dead and all that. I chided myself as I watched them walk up the long set of steps. I did allow myself a bit of self-satisfaction that I wasn’t the only one who’d huffed and puffed their way up to the house.

  “Hi, Jackson,” I said, getting up out of my chair.

  “Hi, Suzy. Josie, nice to see you as always,” he said, nodding to both of us. “You both know Alice and Freddie. This is Joe Abrams from the state police.

  The state policeman shook hands with both of us. Right on cue, he lingered on Josie. And Freddie hadn’t taken his eyes off her since he stepped onto the porch.

  “So what’s going on?” Jackson said.

  “Marge Crawford is dead,” I said.

  “The ex-wife?” Jackson said. “What’s she doing here?”

  “She’s been in town for a while. Probably tying up some loose ends.”

  “I guess that makes sense,” Jackson said. “Where’s the body?”

  “In the kitchen behind the island,” I said, sitting back down.

  “You didn’t touch anything did you?” Jackson said.

  “No. But you want to be careful when you go in,” Josie said. “There’s maple syrup all over the floor.”

  “Again with the maple syrup?” Freddie said.

  “Weird,” Jackson said. “Who else is around?”

  “Nobody,” Josie said. “At least we haven’t seen anybody.”

  “Okay, here’s what we’ll do. You guys stay out here on the porch while we take a look. Then Joe and I will need to interview you separately while Freddie does his thing. Alice, you stick with me.”

  Everyone nodded, and we stayed sat on the porch and played with Chloe while we waited. Fifteen minutes later, Jackson and the state policeman escorted Josie and me to different rooms and spoke with us for about an hour. When they were satisfied we’d answered all their questions, and they had a lot, we sat back down on the porch and waited until the ME had finished his initial examination.

  Freddie walked onto the porch ju
st as two paramedics arrived lugging a stretcher up the steps. He gave them their instructions, and they entered the house. Five minutes later, we heard the throaty purr of a boat approaching the island. Moments later, Carl climbed the steps carrying several plastic bags. When he reached the porch, he looked around and seemed genuinely surprised to see all of us.

  “What’s up?” Carl said, setting the bags down on the porch.

  “You’re Carl, right?” Jackson said.

  “Yes, and you’re Jackson. We had a couple of beers together one night around Christmas last year.”

  “That’s right. At the Water’s Edge. If I remember, you’re a gardener.”

  “Among other things,” he said. “So, what’s going on?”

  “Marge Crawford. I’m sorry to have to tell you that she’s dead.”

  “What?” Carl stumbled backward until he came to rest against the railing. He seemed to be in total shock and if he was putting on an act, it was a good one.

  “I’ll need to speak with you, sir,” the state policeman said.

  “Sure. Of course,” Carl said, following him into the house.

  A few minutes later, the paramedics pushed the stretcher onto the porch. Thankfully, the body bag was zipped shut. I watched them carefully work their way down the steps, then looked at the ashen Alice who was staring off into the distance.

  “Are you okay?” I said.

  Alice turned and eventually managed to focus on me. “Yeah, I think so. It’s just that this one is a lot harder to deal with than the guy in the water.”

  “It’s all the blood,” Josie said.

  “There was so much of it,” Alice said, sitting down in the glider. Chloe hopped up on her lap and started licking her hand. “And I’ll never get the sight of that knife out of my head. Who could do something like that?”

  “I’m not sure,” Freddie said, holding up a plastic bag with the murder weapon inside. “But we will soon. I pulled a great set of prints.”

  “Really?” Josie said. “The killer left a set of prints? That was pretty careless wouldn’t you say?”

  “I don’t think we’re dealing with a genius here, Josie,” Freddie said. “And at first glance, I think our suspect is a woman. The prints are pretty small.”