The Case of the Eccentric Elkhound

by B R Snow

  We knocked, then slid open the wood door and stood frozen in the doorway.

  “Oh, no,” Josie said. “Not another one.”

  “People are going to start avoiding us like the plague,” I said, staring at the bed.

  Jimmy Calducci, devoid of any visible wounds, lay on his back looking up at the ceiling with a vacant stare. Josie slowly made her way to the edge of the bed and checked for a pulse. Moments later, she looked at me with watery eyes and shook her head.

  “Geez, the poor guy,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t see any injuries or blood.”

  “No, me neither,” Josie said. “Maybe he had a heart attack.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” I said, my mind already racing. “I wonder where his wife and the rest of his gang are.”

  “Please, don’t start, Suzy,” Josie said, heading for the stairs that led back to fresh air.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, following her up the stairs.

  On deck, I checked to make sure Captain and Chloe were still staying put. Then I grabbed my phone and dialed. Josie sat down in a deck chair deep in thought. I sat next to her and put my phone on speaker.

  “This is Jackson.”

  “Hey, it’s me.”

  “Hi, Suzy. What’s shaking?”

  “At the moment, my hands,” I said.

  “You lost me,” Jackson said.

  “Do you remember when you said last night that if Jimmy Calducci is in town, you can bet somebody is about to be in a world of hurt?”

  “Yeah,” Jackson said, warily.

  “Well, you were right,” I said.

  “Aaahh. Really?” Jackson said, exhaling loudly. “Sometimes I hate being right. Who is it?”

  “It’s Calducci,” I whispered.

  “What? Is he dead?”

  “Very,” Josie said. “Hey, Jackson.”

  “Hi, Josie,” Jackson said. “Are you okay?”

  “I’ve been better,” she said.

  “Where’s the body?” Jackson said.

  “On his houseboat. Right near the entrance to Lake of the Isles,” I said.

  “And you just happened to stumble onto him?”

  “Yeah. Pretty much,” I said. “We’ll wait here for you.”

  “Okay,” he said. “There go my dinner plans.”

  “Sorry to do that to you, Jackson,” I said. “Tell you what. Just call Chef Claire and ask her to add one more to our takeout order. Swing by the house after you finish up here, and it’ll be waiting for you.”

  “Since when did you decide to start offering takeout?” Jackson said.

  “We don’t,” I said. “It’s just one of the perks of ownership.”

  “Good perk,” Jackson said. “Okay, let me track down Freddie, and we’ll be there as soon as we can. Don’t touch anything.”

  I ended the call and slid my phone back in my pocket. Josie called Oslo, and the dog approached and sat patiently as Josie began gently examining the dog. The dog nudged her with his nose then licked her hand.

  “He knows you’re trying to help him,” I said, staring at the dog.

  “Yeah,” Josie said, rubbing the dog’s head. “Let’s hope I’m not too late.”

  Chapter 4

  We waited out the next half-hour in relative silence until Jackson and Freddie arrived. Josie helped them secure the police boat to Calducci’s then they both climbed aboard the houseboat. Given the circumstances, our greeting was brief and all business. They followed us below deck to where the body was then Josie and I said our goodbyes. After explaining why we were taking Calducci’s dog with us, we headed for home just before sunset and went directly to the Inn after we’d docked.

  I followed Josie into one of the exam rooms, and she gently placed Oslo on a table. The dog, while still shaking its head and emitting the combination howl and whine sound that broke my heart, was relatively calm as Josie conducted her initial examination. I watched as she moved her index finger back and forth in front of the dog’s face. I certainly wasn’t a vet by any means, but the dog’s eyes seemed to be having some difficulty following Josie’s movements.

  “What do you think?” I said, stroking the dog’s thick fur.

  “My first guess is that it’s something neurological,” Josie said. “There’s no sign of a head fracture or any trauma. And he certainly looks like he’s been well-cared for. I’m not ruling out hydrocephalus, but I’d expect to be seeing some swelling of the head.”

  “That’s excessive fluids collecting inside the brain, right?” I said.

  “Yeah, it’s similar to water on the knee or elbow,” Josie said. “Except this time, we’re dealing with the brain. But I don’t think that’s it. I’m going to need to get some pictures.”

  “Brain tumor?” I whispered.

  “Maybe,” Josie said, glancing up at me. “I’m going to need your help, Suzy. So try and hold it together.”

  I blinked back the tears and nodded.

  “Should we call Jill and have her come in?” I said.

  “I think her and Sammy are out of town tonight,” Josie said. “I can handle the anesthesiology, but I’ll need some help from you if we have to do surgery. Better put on some scrubs.”

  I nodded and went to change clothes. A few minutes later, I joined Josie in the back of the Inn where she already had the sedated Oslo stretched out and ready for his MRI. Several people around town, including my mother, were baffled when they’d heard we had purchased an MRI scanner to be used exclusively on animals. After searching for months, we’d found a refurbished scanner that met all our needs. Even used, it still cost a small fortune, but our technology now rivaled that of the major veterinary operations found in major cities. And we regularly provided MRIs for other vets within a hundred mile radius who didn’t have our resources and weren’t able to afford what many considered a luxury.

  But for us, it was just one more line item in the cost of doing business.

  We’d recently done a presentation to the Town Council about the Inn’s capabilities and our plans for expansion in both our capacity and overall range of services. Most of the Council members had been impressed by what we’d told them, but the mayor had challenged us with a comment about how the health and medical services available to dogs rivaled, and often exceeded, those available to residents at our local hospital.

  Josie had listened closely to the mayor, then deadpanned, “Whose fault is that, Howard?”

  Howard had turned bright red and quickly adjourned the meeting.

  I smiled at the memory as I watched Josie handle the procedure and the young dog with a quiet, professional efficiency. She asked me to keep a close eye on the sedated Oslo while she headed off to examine the results of the MRI. When she returned, Josie had a blank look on her face I knew meant bad news.

  “It’s a tumor, isn’t it?” I said.

  “Yeah,” Josie said, rubbing her forehead. “And it’s in an area that would explain why he’s showing a lot of those symptoms.

  “But he’s so young,” I said. “He’s barely done being a puppy.”

  “Yeah, it’s unusual,” Josie said. “But it does happen in younger dogs. It could be a simple case of bad genes.”

  “What are the odds it cancerous?” I said.

  “I’m hoping they’re low because he’s so young, and it looks like we might have caught it early,” Josie said. “But we won’t be able to confirm that until we can get a biopsy done.”

  “Then should we wait until that’s done before you do the surgery?” I said.

  “That’s the question I’ve been asking myself for the past hour. But I think that whatever is in there is pretty aggressive and is going to have to be removed at some point. So my instincts are telling me to go in now and take it out. And if the biopsy confirms cancer, we can follow up with chemo or radiation later on.”

  “Can you remove it without doing any more damage?” I said.

  “I hope so,” she whispered. “But I can’t be sure u
ntil I get inside and a get a good look at what we’re dealing with.”

  “Okay, then let’s get started,” I said, then noticed the look on Josie’s face. “What is it?”

  “I’ve never done surgery on a dog without their owner’s permission,” she said.

  “I don’t think that’s going to be possible, Josie.”

  “I meant Calducci’s wife,” Josie said.

  “I imagine Dot has other things she’s dealing with at the moment,” I said. “And wasn’t she the one who called Oslo an idiot?”

  “Yes, she was,” Josie said.

  “Well, I doubt if she is going to have a strong opinion either way as long as we don’t ask her to pay for it.”

  “Yeah, I know,” she said. “It just seems strange. But if Oslo doesn’t make it, I’m going to have to do some serious explaining.”

  “If you don’t do it, he’s going to die, right?” I said.

  “Eventually, yes,” Josie said.

  “And he’ll be in increasing pain and discomfort as the tumor grows, right?” I said.

  “Yeah.”

  “Then it’s settled, isn’t it?” I said.

  Josie thought about it for several seconds, before nodding at me.

  “It is,” she said. “What’s best for the dog always comes first.”

  “It’s really risky surgery,” I said.

  “I thought you were just trying to talk me into it,” Josie said, managing a small laugh.

  “Yeah, I guess I was,” I said, smiling nervously. “Never mind.”

  “Okay, are you ready?” she said, lifting the sedated dog in her arms. “I set the operating area up while I was waiting for the MRI results.”

  I followed her and spent the next two hours helping her keep an eye on the machines that were monitoring Oslo’s vital signs as well as handle other tasks she gave me. I followed her instructions the best I could, and she did everything possible to avoid using medical jargon I wouldn’t understand. I was fascinated by her precision, and when she was finally able to remove the small object, I exhaled loudly.

  “Okay,” Josie said, taking a final look at her work. “That’s the best I can do. Let’s hope it’s enough.”

  “Amazing,” I said.

  “You did a good job,” she said, chuckling. “You didn’t faint or throw up once.”

  “Funny,” I said, watching her efficiently stitch the wound closed. “I guess that’s why they make you spend all those years in vet school, huh?”

  “Yup,” she said, stepping back from the table and removing her latex gloves. “He’s going to need constant monitoring for a day or two.”

  “You want me to take the first shift?”

  “No,” Josie said. “I need to be here when he comes out of the anesthesia. But if you want to relieve me in about six hours, that would be great.”

  “You got it,” I said, starting to walk away before stopping and looking back at her. “Josie?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Just for being you,” I said.

  “It’s not like I have much choice, Suzy,” she said, laughing. “Who else am I going to be?”

  “Yeah, I guess you’ve got a good point there.”

  Chapter 5

  After I had delivered Josie’s dinner to her, I settled in with Chloe and Captain in the living room with designs on a nap before it was time to head back down to the Inn and relieve Josie. But my plans were interrupted when Chef Claire arrived home from the restaurant around eleven, trailed by Jackson and Freddie. The guys joined me in the living room for a glass of wine while Chef Claire headed off to take a shower to rinse off, as she called it, twelve hours of restaurant.

  I glanced back and forth between them and waited for the update on Calducci. Jackson was the first one to catch the meaning behind my expression and went first.

  “Well, I finally managed to get hold of the wife. According to her, she and Pee Wee spent the day shopping on the Canadian side,” he said.

  “Has Canadian Immigration confirmed they came across the border?” I said, sliding further down the couch to make room for Chloe.

  “Dot said they went by boat and didn’t bother to check in when they docked in Kingston,” Jackson said.

  I nodded, not surprised by that piece of information. Although boaters were expected to check in with local immigration officials when they came ashore, many didn’t comply since they considered it an unnecessary annoyance.

  “If they were shopping, a quick check of credit card activity would help confirm their alibi,” I said.

  Jackson did manage to avoid rolling his eyes at me and settled for a quick shake of the head.

  “I’m already on it,” he said. “But I’m not saying they need an alibi, got it?”

  “What about the woman who was at dinner?” I said, ignoring Jackson’s comment.

  “Fatal Franny?” he said.

  “Yeah, the supposed sharpshooter,” I said.

  “Apparently, she’s out of town on business,” Jackson said. “Location unknown at this point.”

  “Well, if anything gruesome shows up on the local news, I guess we’ll know soon enough,” I said, quietly.

  “What’s the matter, Suzy?” Jackson said. “I thought by now you’d be all jacked up and ready to go with a list of a dozen possible suspects.”

  I took a few minutes to explain the situation with Oslo as well as how Josie and I had spent our evening.

  “The poor little guy,” Jackson said. “If Sluggo had to go through something like that, I’d be a basket case.”

  Sluggo was Jackson’s beloved bulldog and, when he wasn’t on the job, his constant companion. The dog was a regular visitor at the Inn and one of our favorites.

  “What did you find, Freddie?” I said, refilling the wine glasses.

  “It’s early,” he said. “But I’m going to say it was a massive coronary.”

  “But before you classify it as a death by natural causes, you’re going to run toxicology tests, right?” I said.

  “Yes, Suzy,” Freddie said, unable to resist rolling his eyes.

  “Good,” I said, nodding my head vigorously.

  Jackson and Freddie both snorted and looked at me.

  “There’s no need to snort at me,” I said, returning their stare. “And it’s not an attractive quality.”

  “Why can’t you just let the guy die in peace?” Jackson said. “And of all the ways a guy like Calducci could have gone out, having a heart attack on his houseboat isn’t a bad option.”

  “It is a nice boat,” Freddie said, taking a sip of wine before realizing we were both staring at him. “What? All I said was that it’s a nice boat.”

  Chef Claire entered wearing her pajamas and running a towel through her wet hair. She draped the towel around her shoulders, poured herself a glass of wine, and slid her way onto the couch. Chloe grudgingly made room for her, then took the opportunity to stretch back out using Chef Claire’s lap as a pillow.

  “What did I miss?” Chef Claire said.

  “I was just getting an update on Calducci’s death,” I said.

  “Calducci? The guy who was at your table last night?” she said.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “He’s dead?”

  “You didn’t know?” I said, frowning.

  “How would I know? I just spent the last twelve hours feeding two hundred people,” Chef Claire said.

  “I assumed that Jackson or Freddie would have said something,” I said.

  “We came in different cars and just happened to pull into the driveway at the same time,” Freddie said, beaming at Chef Claire. “Two hundred, huh? Another big night.”

  “Yeah, it was great. But incredibly busy,” Chef Claire said, sipping her wine. “So how’d he die?”

  “Heart attack,” Freddie said, glancing briefly in my direction. “Most likely, natural causes.”

  “Maybe,” I said.

  �
��Where’s Josie?” Chef Claire said.

  I retold the story of how we’d spent our evening.

  “So, Calducci has only been dead for a few hours, and you’ve already performed brain surgery on his dog?” Chef Claire said, shaking her head. “That sounds pretty weird, even for you guys.”

  “Well, when you say it like that, yeah,” I said, laughing.

  “How’s the little guy doing?” Chef Claire said.

  “It’s too soon to tell,” I said, glancing at my watch. “Josie will be heading up in a couple of hours.”

  “I’ll get the update in the morning,” Chef Claire said, yawning. “I’m beat.”

  “Hey, Jackson,” I said. “Do you have a contact number for Mrs. Calducci? We need to give her a call about Oslo.”

  Jackson jotted down the number and held it in front of me just out of reach.

  “Promise me you’ll keep the conversation focused on the dog?” he said.

  “Of course I will,” I said, snatching the piece of paper from his hand. “I’m not completely insensitive to other people’s feelings.”

  “It’s not your sensitivity I’m worried about,” Jackson said, laughing. “It’s your snoopiness.”

  “I don’t think that’s even a word, Jackson,” I said, my voice rising a notch.

  “Maybe not,” he said. “But you get my point, right?”

  “Maybe.”

  I did. But I certainly wasn’t about to tell him that.

  Chapter 6

  I dozed off sometime around five, woke just before six, and checked to make sure Oslo was comfortable. When I was sure that his vital signs were in the range Josie had outlined, I napped on and off for the next couple of hours. Josie entered the back door just after eight carrying two big mugs of coffee and headed straight for Olso’s condo where I was sitting with my back against a wall and waking up for what seemed like the tenth time that morning.

  “How’s he doing?” she said, handing me one of the mugs.

  “Thanks,” I said, then took a sip before answering. “He’s still stable. And he’s even managed a couple of tail wags.”