The Case of the Brokenhearted Bulldog

by B R Snow

  “Did he now? Well, John’s always going on about something, isn’t he?”

  “Yeah, I guess,” I said. “Are you still planning on coming to the party?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” he said, giving me an odd smile that seemed to say he knew something I didn’t.

  “How’s Alice doing?”

  I figured that since I had gotten his attention, I’d push him a bit.

  “She’s anxious to get this show on the road. Just like me,” he said, staring out at the water.

  “That’s a long time to be on a boat,” I said. “I don’t know how you can deal with it.”

  “Oh, I’m sure we’ll find plenty of ways to kill time,” he said, winking at me.

  The wink hit about an eight on the creep-factor scale. I forced a smile and stuffed my hands in my pockets.

  “Have you seen John?”

  “He’s not on the boat, so I guess he’s in his office,” Captain Bill said.

  “Thanks. Well, I’ll see you Saturday,” I said.

  “I’m looking forward to it. I’m just heading over to the Water’s Edge for a drink. You feeling like joining me?” he said, staring at me.

  Thankfully, he didn’t wink again.

  “No, thanks,” I said. “I have a policy against drinking before lunch.”

  “Actually, it won’t be before lunch. It will be lunch. Just one of the liquid variety,” he said, laughing hard and loud.

  It was hard to argue with that kind of logic, so I didn’t even bother to try. I waved goodbye and headed for John’s office. I found him behind his desk chatting with Alice who was sitting on the couch. She continued to look worn out.

  “Hey, Suzy,” John said, beaming at me. “We were just talking about you.”

  “I seriously doubt that,” I said, sitting down on the couch next to Alice and patting her knee.

  “Hi, Suzy,” she said. “Actually we were just talking about what might be on the menu for Saturday night.”

  “I just went over it with Chef Claire,” I said. “You’re going to love it.”

  “You didn’t happen to see Captain Bill on your way in, did you?” John said.

  “Yes, I did,” I said, nodding. “He just headed for the Water’s Edge. He mentioned something about having a liquid lunch.”

  “Geez, here we go again,” John said, glancing at Alice. “You better get over there and keep an eye on him.”

  “This is getting old,” Alice said, getting up off the couch.

  “Hang in there,” John said. “You’ll be on your way soon on an adventure of a lifetime.”

  “Yeah, a month on a boat with him and the copulating Canadians. Gee, John, why doesn’t that make me feel better?”

  She glared at him.

  “Relax, Alice,” John said softly. “You need to dial it down a bit. Just head over the Water’s Edge and try to keep him under one bottle of scotch. Grab some lunch and enjoy the afternoon. Just tell Millie to put it on my tab.”

  “Fine,” Alice said, storming out of the office.

  John glanced at me and shook his head.

  “Everybody is a bit on edge,” he said. “Alice thought she’d be on the water by now and it’s never a good thing when Captain Bill has too much free time on his hands.”

  “Maybe he needs a hobby,” I said.

  “He has one,” John said, laughing.

  “Drinking’s not a hobby,” I said, laughing along.

  “No, you’re probably right. Captain Bill has managed to elevate it to an art form.”

  “Is Alice going to be okay?”

  “She’ll be fine. I think she’s having some relationship problems,” John said.

  “Really? Do tell,” I said, leaning forward and beaming at him.

  “I have no idea who it is,” he said. “But Alice is young, and I guess this is the first time she’s had her heart broken.” He seamlessly changed topics. “So what brings you by?”

  “I need a small favor. Chef Claire needs a few more of warming trays for the party. I was wondering if we could borrow some of yours.”

  “Sure. Not a problem.”

  He punched a number on his phone and seconds later we heard a voice on the other end.

  “Maintenance.”

  “Hey, Bill.”

  “What’s up, John?”

  “Suzy Chandler is here, and she needs to borrow some of our warming trays. Would you mind grabbing some and putting them in the back of her car?”

  “You got it.”

  “Are you driving your SUV today?” John asked me.

  “Yes. It’s parked right in front, and it’s not locked,” I said loud enough to be heard through the phone. “Thanks, Bill. Four should be plenty.”

  “You got it, Suzy. And I’ll see you Saturday.”

  He ended the call, and I glanced around the office. I stopped when I saw the shotgun displayed on the wall behind the desk. I’d been in the office at least a dozen times and couldn’t remember ever seeing it before.

  “While you’re waiting, let’s go for a walk down to the boat,” John said, standing up. “How about you Chloe? Feel like taking a look at the boat?”

  Chloe was apparently up for anything today. She hopped off my lap and raced to the door. She sat down and wagged her tail.

  “That dog is scary smart,” John said, laughing.

  “She gets it from her mother,” I said, nodding my head at the wall. “That’s a nice shotgun. Is that new?”

  “No, I’ve had that forever,” he said. “But I don’t use it to hunt anymore, and I thought it might look good on the wall.”

  “And it’s probably a good reminder to the staff not to mess with you,” I said, following him out the door.

  “Oh, I don’t think they need any reminders,” he said, laughing as he held the door open for me.

  The wind hit us full bore when we stepped outside. It even got Chloe’s attention and she stared up at me and barked once when he headed away from where the car was parked.

  At the edge of the stairway, John scooped Chloe up in his arms and carried her up the stairs. I could have probably managed to get up the stairs without dropping her into the water, but I was glad I didn’t have to try.

  Near the bow, I saw one of the renovation crew working on a latch that was attached to what looked like a storage area directly in front of the wheelhouse. Judging by how hard he was hitting it with a hammer, he wasn’t very happy with the way it was working.

  I wondered if wheelhouse was the right term to use for a yacht this size. Or was it called the bridge? Or maybe it was the Captain’s Chair? Whatever they called it, it was the spot from where the person who piloted the boat was situated.

  I followed John below deck and stepped into the newly renovated area. Long gone was the marble and wood now replaced by some form of composite material I thought looked dreadful. But since it wasn’t my boat or my money, and if the owner in Florida wanted a yacht whose interior looked like a lunch counter you might find in a mini-mall, who was I to judge.

  “How are you doing?” John said to the supervisor.

  “We’re getting there, John. Two down, two to go,” the supervisor said.

  I glanced around but didn’t see the two extra workers. Maybe they were at lunch. I hoped for John sake that they weren’t at the Water’s Edge having lunch with Captain Bill. That would probably put a serious dent in the afternoon productivity.

  “Have you sent the owner photos of how this looks?” I said to John.

  “Yeah,” he said, shaking his head. “The guy loves it.”

  “Really?” I said, finding that impossible to believe.

  “Yeah. I hate it, too. But you need to remember one important fact,” John said. “The guy’s an idiot.”

  I nodded and then moved out of the way as the man who had been hammering on the latch on the top deck, strode past me into the master stateroom. Soon I heard the hammering start again.

  “What’s the deal with all the hammering?” I said.r />
  “Just one more change the guy wants,” John said, closing the door that led into the stateroom. “He didn’t like the way the gold latches looked. Now he wants silver.”

  “He sounds incredibly picky,” I said.

  “Trust me,” John said. “The guy who owns this boat knows exactly what he wants, but sometimes he feels compelled to change his mind. The trick is to get it right and delivered before something else happens.”

  “I’m so glad I do what I do,” I said. “Dogs ask for so little, and they’re always satisfied.”

  “You’re a very lucky woman, Suzy.”

  He’s right.

  I am.

  And as far as solving this case went, that was a good thing.

  It was beginning to look like I was going to need every bit of luck I could find.

  Chapter 18

  On a whim, and out of ideas, I called Josie at the Inn and asked her if she’d like to meet me for lunch at the Water’s Edge. Since their burgers and French fries were one of her favorites, she quickly agreed and told me she’d meet me there in twenty minutes.

  The Water’s Edge was only about two hundred yards from where I was parked, and I stood next to the driver’s door and thought about walking.

  No, don’t laugh. I did consider it.

  But when I ran the pros and cons through my head, the decision to walk was anything but automatic. I knew the exercise would do me good, but after lunch, I’d have to walk back into a stiff north wind on a full stomach. Eventually, the cons won out, and I opened the door, waited for Chloe to hop into the passenger seat, then got in and drove up the street.

  The Water’s Edge, unlike most of the bars and restaurants that close at the end of summer, is open year round and a favorite with the locals. It was more bar than restaurant, but the place was welcoming, and the food was great. It was also dog-friendly.

  I held the door open for Chloe, who trotted inside like she owned the place and waited for me to make up my mind about where to sit. I glanced around and waved at two locals who were watching afternoon baseball on the TV above the bar and drinking draft beer. At a table in the back, I saw Alice and Captain Bill. They both gave me a quick wave and then went back to what they’d been doing. Alice was eating a burger while it looked like Captain Bill was doing shots and a lot of arm waving.

  I selected a table a safe distance away from them and sat down. Chloe stared up at me while I studied the menu. Laughing, I set the menu down and rubbed her head.

  “Don’t worry,” I said to Chloe. “You’ll get your burger.”

  That seemed to satisfy her, and she stretched out over my feet under the table. She stayed there for about a minute before the owner’s German Shepherd wandered over and nudged Chloe with his nose. They checked each other, seemed satisfied, and then the German shepherd turned his attention to me. We were old friends, and I gave him a big hug.

  “Hey, Barkley,” I said. “How are you doing?” I glanced up as Millie, the owner of both the dog and the Water’s Edge, approached. “Hey, Millie.”

  “Hi, Suzy,” she said kneeling down to pet Chloe. “Barkley, please don’t do that. I’m sorry about that.”

  “Don’t worry about it. It happens all the time.” Laughing, I gently removed Barkley’s head from my lap.

  “Are you eating by yourself today?”

  “No, Josie’s on her way,” I said.

  “So is your mother,” Millie said.

  “What?”

  “Yeah, she just called to make sure I had clam chowder as one of the specials today. She’s bringing someone she said was her very special friend.”

  “Don’t you have a chef’s table in the kitchen?” I said.

  “Not a chance,” she said, laughing.

  “That’s too bad,” I said, fending off the German shepherd’s attempt to find out what was in my coat pocket. “I’d ask you to seat my mother as far away as possible, but we both know she’s going to sit wherever she wants to.”

  “She’s going to sit with you and Josie, and you know it,” Millie said.

  “Maybe there’s still time for me to slip out the back,” I said.

  “You’re terrible,” Millie said, shaking her head. “You ready to order?”

  “Sure,” I said. “Two burgers with extra fries on both plates. And a small burger with no bun and no seasoning for Chloe, please.”

  “You got it,” Millie said. “What would you like to drink?”

  “What do you have on tap at the moment? I haven’t had a beer in a long time.”

  “We’ve got a nice pilsner from a microbrewery in the Finger Lakes that’s really good,” she said.

  “Sounds good. Two of those. Thanks.”

  “You got it,” she said, snapping her fingers once in her dog’s direction. “Let’s go, Barkley. It’s time for you to terrorize somebody else. Like the dishwasher.”

  Millie headed toward the kitchen with the dog at her heels. Moments later, Josie entered and waited for her eyes to adjust to the dim light. Then she saw me and headed for the table. The two men watching baseball took a break from the action to watch Josie until she’d settled into her chair. If Josie had even noticed their leering, she didn’t let on. She’d changed out of her scrubs into jeans and a baggy wool sweater and sneakers. Her long hair was tied back and trailed down her back. She looked like she could have spent an hour getting ready. My guess was a minute and a half tops. Chloe climbed out from under the table and placed her front paws on Josie’s lap.

  “Did you order?” Josie said, petting Chloe.

  “Yeah, burger, extra fries. And I ordered you a beer.”

  “Oh, good call,” she said. “I haven’t one in a long time. Is that Alice and Captain Bill in the back?”

  “It is indeed,” I said.

  I gave her the summary version of my morning, and she listened closely. She sat back when Millie delivered our beers and exchanged pleasantries with Josie. After she had left, Josie leaned forward.

  “So Captain Bill is an alcoholic?” Josie said.

  “It certainly sounds that way,” I said.

  “I guess there’s not a lot to do out there on the open water, huh?”

  We each took a sip of beer and nodded our approval.

  “Alice seems to be even more on edge,” I said.

  “Do you really think it was Jackson who broke her heart?” she said, sneaking a peek over her shoulder.

  “I don’t know who else it could be,” I said.

  “And you’re going to ask him about it, right?”

  “Of course,” I said.

  She laughed.

  “Welcome home, Jackson. It’s so good to see you. Now would you care to explain why you felt the need to break that young woman’s heart?”

  “I’ll be more subtle than that, and you know it,” I said.

  Josie snorted but cut it short. She stared at the entrance.

  “What is it?”

  “Here comes the floor show,” Josie said.

  “Great.”

  “Darling, what a wonderful surprise,” my mother called out. “Hi, Josie.”

  “Hi Mrs. C,” Josie said, waving.

  I turned around and saw my mother approaching. For her, she was dressed down. Boots, jeans, sweater, and a leather coat that probably cost more than my car. But what got my full attention was the fact that she was holding hands with the man walking next to her. I was shocked. My mother was very comfortable doing many things in public that attracted attention to her. But holding hands wasn’t one of them. At least it never had been.

  “Darling, I’d like you to meet Dirk Sinclair,” she gushed. “Dirk, this is my beautiful daughter, Suzy.”

  I accepted his handshake and smiled up at him.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Suzy,” he said, flashing me a wide grin that displayed what I assumed were some very expensive teeth. “Your mother has told me so much about you.”

  “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t put too much stock in that. She’s a drinker.”<
br />
  He laughed loudly, just the way I would have expected someone who sold cars for a living to laugh, then he got his first look at Josie. He flinched like he’d just put his hand on a hot stove or maybe a finger in a light socket, but quickly recovered.

  “It’s so nice to meet you, Josie,” he said, extending his hand across the table.

  “Same here,” Josie said, forcing a smile. “Should I call you Dirk?”

  “Of course,” he said, gushing.

  I smiled and looked down at the table. I knew Josie better than anyone, and I already knew the word she would later use to describe Dirk Sinclair.

  And that word was smarmy.

  “Didn’t I tell you they were both beautiful?” my mother said.

  “Yes, you did,” Dirk Sinclair said. “And they certainly are.”

  I was guessing Dirk had already forgotten what I looked like since he was unable to stop staring at Josie. I started silently counting down from ten in my head.

  Nine… eight.

  If Dirk Sinclair knew what was good for him, he would soon refocus his attention on the woman sitting across the table from him.

  Seven… six.

  My mother’s eyes started to glaze over.

  Five... four.

  She rotated her head sideways until one of her neck vertebrae emitted a soft pop.

  C’mon, Dirk. Get your act together. I haven’t had my burger yet, and I don’t want a major incident before I get a chance to eat.

  Three… two.

  Earth to Dirk.

  “Of course, with all due respect, they both pale in comparison to you, my dear,” Dirk Sinclair said, looking at my mother and reaching across the table to squeeze her hand.

  “Oh, you’re so sweet, Dirkie,” my mother said.

  “Dirkie?” Josie whispered.

  I stifled a laugh but had to admit that he’d managed to pull out of his nosedive.

  Well done. Nice save. Score a point for Dirk.

  “So I hear you’re in cars,” I said.

  “Yes, mainly,” he said, sitting back in his chair to take command of the table. “And the next time you two ladies are thinking about a new car, you must come see me.” His eyes strayed back to Josie. “I’d just love to get you behind the wheel of a Mercedes.”