by B R Snow
The Case of the
Graceful Goldens
A Thousand Islands Doggy Inn Mystery
B.R. Snow
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are either used fictitiously or are the product of the author’s imagination. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form by any means, whether electronic or mechanical without the express written consent of the author. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher are illegal and punishable by law.
Copyright © 2017 B.R. Snow
ISBN: 978-1-942691-14-3
Website: www.brsnow.net/
Twitter: @BernSnow
Facebook: facebook.com/bernsnow
Cover Design: Reggie Cullen
Cover Photo: James R. Miller
Other Books by B.R. Snow
The Thousand Islands Doggy Inn Mysteries
The Case of the Abandoned Aussie
The Case of the Brokenhearted Bulldog
The Case of the Caged Cockers
The Case of the Dapper Dandie Dinmont
The Case of the Eccentric Elkhound
The Case of the Faithful Frenchie
The Damaged Po$$e Series
American Midnight
Larrikin Gene
Sneaker World
Summerman
The Duplicates
Other books
Divorce Hotel
Either Ore
To Stella
Chapter 1
It was sunny but cold, and while I knew that the early morning frost would soon melt, the overnight temperature that had dropped into the teens was a stark reminder that winter was on the way. The ground had been crunchy when I took Chloe and Captain out to do their business an hour earlier, and now from the comfort of the living room, I could tell that Chef Claire was also dealing with a noisy morning walk as she carefully made her way across the slippery lawn. Al and Dente, her two Golden Retrievers, seemed less concerned with the cold and wind and wanted to play instead of focusing on the task at hand. Chef Claire grudgingly agreed and spent the next few minutes throwing tennis balls and then struggling to get them out of her dog’s mouths.
Josie approached and stood next to me sipping coffee as we stared out the picture window overlooking the section of lawn that led down to our dock.
“They’re such gorgeous dogs.”
“They certainly are,” I said. “And she’s doing a great job with them.”
Chef Claire had been given both dogs when they were eight weeks old for her birthday. Jackson, our former chief of police, and Freddie, our local medical examiner, had each given her a puppy completely unaware what the other’s gift was. The puppies were from the same litter, and Chef Claire had been overwhelmed by their generosity. Both men were still holding out hope that she would eventually profess her undying love and hoped that the gift of a puppy might tilt the scales in their favor. But despite the home run they had hit with the puppies, Jackson and Freddie remained firmly in Chef Claire’s category of just good friends.
I watched Chef Claire hug herself as she bounced on her toes and fought the strong north wind. She waited, then watched both dogs complete their morning mission, and turned to head back toward the house. She waited for the dogs to follow her, but Al and Dente sat down and stared at her, their heads cocked, obviously waiting for a reward.
“Watch this,” I said to Josie.
Chef Claire trudged toward the swing that hung from a tree at the edge of the lawn and patted the high-backed wooden seat. We’d made the swing out of an old glider that used to sit on our verandah, but rarely used it. But the two Goldens had discovered it an early age, and any thoughts we had about removing the swing had disappeared. Al and Dente dashed across the lawn and leaped up on the seat, then turned and sat down facing the house. The dogs stuck the landing, and the swing barely moved.
“Graceful,” Josie said, finishing her coffee.
“That’s the word,” I said, marveling at the dogs’ agility.
Chef Claire began pushing the swing, and the dogs’ tongues lolled. As they swung back and forth, they seemed to have a huge smile on their faces. But there was no wondering about the smile on Chef Claire’s face: She was beaming. A few minutes later Chef Claire made her way back to the house with Al and Dente leading the way. The dogs trotted into the living room and began rolling around on the floor with Captain and Chloe. Chef Claire tossed her coat over a chair, sat down on a couch and smiled at all four dogs.
“How on earth did you teach them to jump up on the swing?” Josie said.
“I really didn’t,” Chef Claire said. “A couple of weeks ago I just tried patting the seat with my hand. And they figured it out right away. Now, I can’t get them off it.”
“Smart,” Josie said, looking down at the two Goldens now draped across Chef Claire’s feet. “Aren’t you, Dente?”
The female popped to her feet, sat on her haunches, and placed her front paws on Josie’s knees. Josie rubbed Dente’s head and glanced at the male, Al, who was returning her stare.
“You too, Al. He’s a good boy. Aren’t you Al?” Josie said.
Al stared at Josie, then nuzzled Chef Claire’s foot.
“I can’t believe it,” Josie said. “He’s still mad at me. How is that possible?”
Several weeks ago, Josie had neutered and spayed the dogs. Dente hadn’t harbored any resentment toward Josie, but Al still hadn’t forgiven her and remained aloof. Unaccustomed to receiving anything but unconditional love from every dog she came in contact with, Josie was perplexed by the dog’s ongoing indifference to her.
“He’ll come around,” Chef Claire said, laughing.
“I’m beginning to wonder,” Josie said, leaning down to rub Al’s head. “I’ve never seen a dog hold a grudge this long.”
“Well, you did say he was a very smart dog,” I deadpanned. “Maybe he’s also a really good judge of character.”
“Funny,” Josie said, settling back into the couch.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” I said, heading for the armoire.
I removed four identical boxes and gave one to Josie and two to Chef Claire. I kept the fourth one for myself.
“Early Christmas present,” I said, opening my box.
“A GPS tracker?” Josie said.
“Yeah. Apparently, the latest and greatest in dog security,” I said, removing the small object. “It attaches to the dog’s collar and has a signal with a radius of five miles. Just in case any of these guys ever happened to get loose.”
“Like any of these guys would ever have a reason to go anywhere,” Josie said, laughing.
I looked at the two Goldens draped over Chef Claire’s feet, then glanced over at Chloe, my Australian Shepherd who was sleeping in front of the fire and tucked under one of Captain’s front paws. Josie’s Newfie was stretched out full-length and snoring contentedly.
“You’ve got a point there,” I said, laughing. “But I told the sales rep we’d give them a try for a month and let him know what we thought. There’s an app you can download to keep track of your dog right from your phone.”
“So it just snaps around the collar?” Chef Claire said.
“Yeah. Just try to keep Al from getting it off and eating it,” I said.
“And try to keep him out of my closet,” Josie said, glaring down at Al. “He chewed another pair of my shoes yesterday.”
“I told you I’d reimburse you for tho
se,” Chef Claire said.
“Don’t worry about it,” Josie said. “It’s not the money. And I shouldn’t have left the closet door open.”
“It’s really strange,” Chef Claire said. “He hasn’t chewed anything of mine in a couple months.”
“I just told you,” Josie said. “He’s still mad at me. Aren’t you, Al?”
Al glanced up at Josie, then closed his eyes and rolled over.
“What a good boy,” I said, laughing. “Since we’re going to be in Grand Cayman for a week, I thought it might give us a little extra peace of mind knowing they’re wearing these.”
“Sammy and Jill will keep a close eye on them,” Josie said.
Sammy and Jill were our two lead staff members, and, in addition to running things at the Inn while we were away, would be housesitting.
“I guess it can’t hurt,” Josie said. “Captain. Come here, boy.”
The Newfie woke, stretched, then walked over to Josie and stood patiently while she attached the device to his collar. Then Josie removed her phone, downloaded the app, and nodded her head.
“How about that?” she said. “That was easy. And the tracker is working great. In case you weren’t sure, at the moment Captain is one foot away from me.”
At one hundred and twenty pounds and still growing, the Newfie was a bit hard to miss.
“Wow. That was easy,” Chef Claire said, examining both of the dogs’ collars and checking the signal on her phone. “Thanks, Suzy.”
“No problem. Hopefully, we won’t ever need them,” I said, attaching the tracking device to Chloe’s collar.
“I need to run to town,” Chef Claire said. “Do you mind if I borrow your SUV?”
“It’s a bit of a mess at the moment,” I said.
“How can you tell?” Josie deadpanned.
“Funny. The front console that Rooster fixed a couple months ago has broken loose again. And there’s a new hole in the floor behind the driver seat. It looks like it completely rusted through.”
Chef Claire and Josie shared an amused glance.
“Don’t start,” I said. “I’m going to get a new car.”
“When?” Josie said.
“As soon as we get back from vacation,” I said.
“I need to go to the store and pick up my bread order,” Chef Claire said. “And there’s no way I can fit it all in my car.”
“Let’s take the boat,” I said. “The sun’s out so it shouldn’t be too bad out there.”
We’d left the boat in the water longer than any other previous year. The fall had been mild, and the River was still devoid of ice. As such, we’d been able to get in several more boat rides than we did most other years.
“You want to come along?” Chef Claire said.
“Sure. I haven’t seen Jackson all week, and you’ll need a hand carrying all that bread. What do you say, Chloe?”
“Chloe says no,” Josie said. “Today is booster shot day. Rabies, Lyme, Leptospirosis, and Coronavirus.”
“I forgot,” I said. “Sorry, girl. But I’m sure that Al and Dente are up for a boat ride.”
The Goldens perked up and cocked their heads at the mention of the boat ride. I laughed, then grabbed my coat and the keys to the boat, and we headed for the dock with the dogs leading the way. They sat on the dock and waited for us to remove the boat cover then they hopped into the boat and up onto the padded seat that ran the length of the transom. They sat side by side and stared at us.
“They’re like athletes,” I said, again marveling at the dogs’ effortless agility.
“I know,” Chef Claire said, climbing into the boat. “If they had thumbs, I’d put them to work in the restaurant.”
I backed the boat out of its slip, and we made the short drive to town in less than ten minutes. I had my choice of parking spots at the town dock, and the dogs made the short jump from the boat to the dock and sat waiting for us. Chef Claire attached their leads and handed me Al’s. We strolled up the empty street before making the right turn that would take us to Jackson’s store.
“My mother used to send me to the store for bread when I was a kid,” I said.
“Are you taking a trip down memory lane?” Chef Claire said.
“Yeah, I guess I am. It’s funny what triggers childhood memories. A couple times a week I’d take my dog and we’d walk to the store for milk and bread.”
“I bet your mom never sent you out for a hundred loaves,” Chef Claire said.
“No, this is a first.”
Chapter 2
We walked across the parking lot and stopped outside the store under an alcove that was shielded from the wind. Chef Claire pulled about twenty feet of cord from the retractable leashes and secured them to a post Jackson had recently installed. She knelt down in front of Al and Dente and spoke to them in a soft voice as she rubbed their heads.
“Sorry, guys,” she said. “But I can’t bring you in the store, so you’re going to have to hang out here for a few minutes. I’ll be right back.”
Chef Claire stood up, and we headed for the entrance but stopped when we heard a quick blast from a car horn. We both turned around and saw the woman in an SUV waving at us. The vehicle was in a lot better shape than mine, to say the least. The driver side window went down and a gray-haired woman who was probably somewhere in her fifties beamed at us and pointed a finger at Al and Dente.
“I’d recognize those two anywhere,” the woman said, turning the SUV off. “They’re mine, right?”
“I beg your pardon,” Chef Claire said, staring at her.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “They’re not mine now, of course.”
“I’m going to need a little more,” Chef Claire said, laughing.
“I’m so sorry,” the woman said. “I’m Alexandra Vincent. Vincent Farms.”
“Oh, sure,” I said. “Vincent Farms. You’re the Golden breeder. Lake Placid, right?”
“Saranac Lake, actually,” she said, smiling. “But close enough. They’re doing great. What did you end up naming them?”
“Al and Dente,” Chef Claire said, glancing at her two Goldens who seemed fixated on the back seat of the woman’s vehicle.
“How clever,” Alexandra said. “Let me introduce you to their parents.”
She lowered the back seat window about halfway, and two heads popped through the opening.
“I’d like you to meet Lucky and Lucy,” Alexandra said. “Between them, they have over a hundred Best in Shows.”
“You know, I never made the connection,” I said, approaching the vehicle. “You were on the cover of It’s a Dog’s World a couple of months ago with them.”
“Yes,” Alexandra said, reaching behind her to give both of her Goldens a quick pet. “I’m riding the coattails of their fame. I never made the connection either. When I sold Al and Dente - love the names - to your two friends, I should have put two and two together.”
“I’m confused,” Chef Claire said.
“Alexandra and her husband run Vincent Farms. They’re the top Golden breeder in the Northeast, if not the entire country.”
“Oh, we’re not quite that famous,” Alexandra said, obviously pleased by my compliment. “Would you mind if we said hello?”
“Of course not,” Chef Claire said.
Alexandra hopped out of the SUV and opened the back door. Both dogs jumped effortlessly from the car to the street and trotted toward Al and Dente to get reacquainted. I watched the dogs nuzzle each other then looked at Alexandra who was staring at the dogs with enormous pride.
“Look at that,” she said, tearing up. “I don’t get a chance to see this sort of reunion very often. They all recognize each other. And they look magnificent. You’re obviously doing a great job raising them.”
“Thank you,” Chef Claire said.
“The two gentlemen who bought them from us both said their puppy was a birthday present,” she said. “You were given both dogs?”
“I was.”
“What a
wonderful surprise that must have been,” she said, continuing to watch the dogs.
“Surprise is a word for it,” Chef Claire said, laughing. “But they’re certainly wonderful.”
“What are you doing here, Alexandra?” I said.
“At the moment, I’m looking for something I can cook for dinner.”
“No, I meant what are you doing in Clay Bay? Are you here for Thanksgiving?”
“Well, I will be here for Thanksgiving, but that’s not why I’m here. I’m in town to judge the Dog Show.”
“Of course,” I said, nodding. “In addition to being a breeder, you’re also one of the top judges in the country.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” she said, again pleased by the compliment. “But since my husband is traveling at the moment, and my children won’t be coming home until Christmas, the thought of spending Thanksgiving by myself wasn’t very appealing. And while I usually take this time of year off to enjoy the holidays, your mayor personally called and invited me to judge your show. At first, I declined, but I eventually accepted. I must say that your mayor is a difficult woman to say no to.”
“Tell me about it,” I said, laughing. “The mayor is my mother.”
Alexandra stared into the distance deep in thought, then looked at me.
“Chandler? Of course,” she said. “You’re Suzy Chandler. The Thousand Islands Doggy Inn, right?”
“Guilty as charged.”
“I just read an article about you and your business partner,” she said, nodding. “You’re doing some amazing work. My, my, what a small world.”
“Indeed. You’re in town all by yourself?” I said.
“I am. I know the show doesn’t start until Saturday, but I haven’t been up here in years so I thought I’d come in a couple of days early and get organized,” she said, kneeling down to pet Al and Dente. “But I’m never alone as long as I have Lucky and Lucy with me. And I rarely go anywhere without them.”
