by B R Snow
I couldn’t miss the tension between the two women and looked back and forth at them.
“That’s what I hoped you’d say,” Abby said. “I must say that I’m pleasantly surprised with your sense of fair play.”
“Yes, that’s what I thought,” Alexandra said, breaking into a wide smile. “And since I’m not showing any of my dogs, that might just provide you with an opportunity to win, Abby.”
Nice shot, Alexandra. Right across the bow and it caught Abby and Glenn right between the eyes. They both twitched in their chairs. Glenn was the first to recover.
“Yes, well,” he said. “You’re track record speaks for itself, Alexandra. I guess we should all thank you for your generosity in not entering the competition.”
Alexandra’s eyes twinkled, and she moved on to continue with the introductions. A few minutes later, while I could easily recall the names and breeds of each dog mentioned, I forgot all the people’s names almost immediately. Alexandra worked her way around the table until we landed on an elegant woman in her sixties who was smiling up at me with the brightest blue eyes I’d seen in a long time.
“Sitting next to Glenn is Margaret Jackson. Margaret breeds and shows the most delightful Springer Spaniels I’ve ever seen.”
“Oh, I love Springers,” I said.
“Then you’re going to love Maggie,” she said, beaming. “This is a wonderful restaurant. I understand that it’s open year round.”
“It is.”
“And you’re one of the owners.”
Even though she seemed like a very nice person, my snoop-alert alarm went off.
“Yes,” I said. “But all the credit goes to the majority owner, Chef Claire. She designed it, and does pretty much all the work.”
“So, your participation is somewhat limited,” Margaret said.
“Yes. Limited to eating and writing checks, primarily,” I said, laughing.
“Well, I think it’s a wonderful addition,” she said. “This town can certainly use another year-round establishment.”
Her second reference to year-round caught my attention.
“I take it you’ve been to Clay Bay before,” I said.
“Actually, I used to live here,” she said, smiling. “A long time ago.”
“Really?”
“Yes, but I left after my divorce,” she said, taking a sip of her Mimosa.
“I see.”
I ran her last name through my memory bank but came up empty.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t remember the Jackson family,” I said, frowning.
“Jackson was my maiden name,” she said, smiling. “Which I was more than delighted to reacquire after my divorce. My married name was Jennings.”
I stared at her and wondered if my mouth had dropped open. I recovered and cocked my head at her.
“Rooster? You were married to Rooster Jennings?”
“Yes,” she said, nodding. “I can see you’re familiar with him.” Margaret glanced around to include everyone else at the table in the conversation. “My ex-husband was quite the local character. I think the term most people used was hermit. He was a good man with many wonderful qualities. It’s just too bad that Rooster felt compelled to keep everyone, myself included, at a distance and his true self buried under several layers of dirt and grease.”
Her use of the past tense was impossible to miss, but I stayed silent and waited for her to continue.
“I got news that he passed several years ago, and I’ve never been able to get past the memories, so I stayed away. When I heard about the dog show the town had organized, I finally decided enough time had passed and that it was silly for me not to enjoy this beautiful part of the country. So, here I am.”
“Here you are,” I said, managing a weak smile. “Well, I’d like to welcome all of you, and I’m looking forward to seeing you and your dogs at the show.”
I caught Josie’s eye and gestured that I’d be there in a minute, then waved goodbye to the table and headed straight for the lounge. Rooster and Rocco were in the middle of a shared laugh. Rooster caught my approach out of the corner of his eye and swiveled toward me.
“You’re back already?” he said.
“Yeah, I just met someone in the restaurant.”
“Are you okay?” Rocco said. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Closer than you might think,” I said.
“What?” Rocco said, frowning at me.
“I’m just babbling,” I said, then smiled at Rooster. “All these years, you’ve been holding out on me.”
“Oh, no,” Rooster said. “You’ve got that look.”
“What look is that?”
“The look that says there’s a mystery lurking that needs to be solved,” he said, laughing.
“Lurking. Good word,” I said, smiling at him. “I’m not sure I’d call this one a mystery. But I’ve got a whole bunch of questions I’d love to have answered.”
“Go ahead, Suzy. You know our deal,” he said, giving me his undivided attention. “You can ask me anything you want, but I get to choose which ones I’m gonna answer.”
“I know the rules, Rooster. I guess my first question is why didn’t you ever tell me you used to be married?”
Rooster flinched but remained calm. Eventually, he shrugged.
“I guess it’s just because it never came up. It was a long time ago, it didn’t last long, and I heard she died several years ago. And I’m the sort of person who doesn’t much like to dwell on the past.”
Now I was thoroughly confused. For two people that were supposed to be dead, they certainly appeared to be in pretty good shape to me.
“Can I ask why you’re asking me that question now?” Rooster said.
“Sure,” I said, frowning as my brain began to redline. “It was something that somebody mentioned a few minutes ago.”
“By the stranger you just met in the dining room?”
“Yes.”
“And this person gave you the impression they know me?”
“Most definitely.”
“And you were surprised by the conversation,” Rooster said.
“Very much so.”
“Will I be?”
“Surprised?” I said, raising an eyebrow at him. “Surprised is definitely a word for it, Rooster.”
“Okay. So who is this mysterious stranger supposed to be?”
“Your ex-wife.”
Chapter 8
Two hours later, we came to a stop when we reached the same spot we’d been at twenty minutes earlier. The compacted dirt trails intersected, then branched out again like spider veins. I glanced down at the map again, then sighed.
“This thing is useless,” I said. “None of these dirt roads are mapped. That’s the problem.”
“I’d tell you to check your phone for the location,” Josie deadpanned. “But there’s no cell coverage out here.”
“Yes, I know,” I snapped. “Hence, the problem.”
“Don’t yell at me,” Josie snapped back.
“Who else am I going to yell at?”
“Yeah, you got a point there,” she said, laughing. “Geez, what a mess.”
“I thought you grew up around here,” Chef Claire said, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel.
“I grew up on the River,” I said. “In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t spend a lot of time in the woods.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed,” Chef Claire said. “The last two days have made that abundantly clear.”
“Don’t you start.”
“Enough, please,” Josie said. “We just need to think this through. We’ve almost covered this entire section, so let’s try to focus and get this done. I think we need to turn left here.”
“No, I was thinking we need to make a right,” Chef Claire said, shaking her head.
“You want to cast the deciding vote?” Josie said to me.
“Actually, what I want to do is find Al and Dente and get the heck out of here.”
“Well, we’re not going to find them sitting here,” Josie said, fidgeting in the back seat. “I can’t believe Rooster used to be married.”
“I can’t believe they both thought the other one was dead,” I said.
“I wonder who told them that,” Chef Claire said.
“My guess is it was someone who wanted to eliminate the possibility that they could ever get back together,” I said.
“Ooooooh,” Josie said. “Possibly unrequited love from afar. Always a good one.”
“Or maybe someone carrying a grudge,” I said. “But it’s odd and-”
“Wait a sec. Is that right?” Josie said.
I turned around and saw the frown on her face.
“Is what right?”
“Carrying a grudge? I thought it was holding a grudge,” Josie said.
“Carry. Hold. What’s the difference?” I snapped.
“Carrying implies movement,” she said.
“Unbelievable,” I said, shaking my head.
“Speaking of movement,” Chef Claire said. “I’m turning right.”
She did, and we started up a small incline. My phone buzzed.
“How about that?” I said, answering the call. “Cell phone reception. Hey, Chief. What’s up? Ah, the call dropped.”
I looked through the windshield and noticed that we were definitely going up an incline.
“Keep going,” I said. “Maybe we’ll be able to get some reception at the top of this hill.”
We slowly made our way up the rough road until we reached a clearing at the top. I called the number and waited for Chief Abrams to answer.
“Where are you guys?” he said.
“I think we’re on the road to nowhere,” I said.
“Good song,” he said. “Talking Heads, right?”
“Did you call to discuss karaoke options, or is there a point to this conversation?” I said.
“Your mom was right. It’s a full on hissy fit,” he said.
“Sorry. It’s been a long day,” I said. “And it’s not a hissy fit.”
Josie snorted in the backseat.
“Let’s go, people,” Chef Claire said, still drumming the steering wheel.
“The CEO finally called me back,” Chief Abrams said.
“That’s great,” I said. “What did he have to say?”
“I haven’t spoken to him yet. But I’ve got him on hold on the other line. Since you’re already out there, if he does have any news, I thought we might be able to save some time by trying a three-way call. Put your phone on speaker.”
“That’s a great idea, Chief.”
“Yeah, I have my moments,” he said. “Hang on. Just give us a minute.”
“Us?” I said.
“Sammy’s here. You don’t think I was going to try to get this call set up on my own, do you?”
We sat quietly, then he came back on the line.
“Okay, I think we got it,” Chief Abrams said. “Mr. Claudine, are you there?”
“I’m here.”
The call was so clear Mr. Claudine could have been in the backseat. But he sounded very groggy.
“I have three people on the other line. I’d like to introduce Suzy, Josie and Chef Claire.”
“Hello, ladies. It’s nice to meet you. I’m sorry to hear about your dogs.”
“Thank you,” Chef Claire said.
“Are you okay, Mr. Claudine?” Chief Abrams said. “You sound kind of out of it.”
“It’s the painkillers the hospital has me on,” he said, laughing. “They’re quite good if you know what I mean.”
“I do,” Chief Abrams said. “You’re in the hospital?”
“Yes. I had a minor base jumping accident.”
“With all due respect, sir,” Chief Abrams said. “I’ve seen base jumping videos. How is it possible for any accident associated with that activity to be considered minor?”
“Compared to some of the other possibilities, Chief Abrams, trust me, my mishap was definitely minor,” he said, coughing then clearing his throat. “I was about to finish a wonderful jump off one of the fiords when I got a bit cocky and decided I would try, in the parlance of gymnastics, to stick the landing.”
“And I take it you didn’t stick it?” Chief Abrams said.
“Actually, I completed what I consider a partial stick,” he said, giggling.
Either this guy had the sunniest disposition on the planet, or the drugs he was on were out of this world.
“I’m not following, sir,” Chief Abrams said.
“My feet stuck, but, unfortunately, the rest of my body didn’t. I snapped both ankles on impact. My doctor likened it to eating a roast chicken. You know, like when you remove one of the legs.”
All three of us in the car grimaced.
“Yeah, I got it,” Chief Abrams said. “That must hurt like hell.”
“I’m sure it will at some point,” Mr. Claudine said, still laughing. “Now, before I completely drift off, I have some information for you. Do you have something to write with?”
“I do. Whenever you’re ready.”
“Okay, one of my lead technicians took a look at the coordinates of the two tracking devices. Unfortunately, both of the batteries have completely discharged.”
“Oh, no,” Chef Claire whispered.
I handed her a tissue to wipe her eyes as I focused on the call.
“Hang in there,” I whispered.
“But he was able to recover the coordinates from the last transmission between one of the devices and our satellite. Why we weren’t able to recover any coordinates from the second device, I’m not sure. My guess is that it was either disabled or perhaps it was submerged in water. We’re still doing everything we can to improve the waterproofing, but we still have a long way to go.”
We heard a long, deep yawn on the other end of the line.
“Maybe you should give me those coordinates, Mr. Claudine,” Chief Abrams said. “You sound pretty sleepy.”
“I think the word you’re looking for is zonked, Chief Abrams,” he said, giggling. “I’m totally zonked. Zonked. That’s a good word, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yeah. Good word,” Chief Abrams said, his patience starting to wear a bit thin. “The coordinates, please, sir.”
“Yes, of course, the coordinates. Now, where did I put them? Oh, there they are. Right in my hand the whole time.”
We listened as he read a series of numbers. I didn’t bother writing them down since there was no way we’d be able to make any sense of them or translate them into a specific location.
“All you’ll need to do is input those coordinates into any of the apps that convert GPS into an actual location,” Mr. Claudine said.
“That’s all I need to do, huh?” Chief Abrams said.
I smiled as I pictured Chief Abrams scratching his head.
“I know how to do that,” Sammy interjected. “Piece of cake. And that’s not a suggestion, Josie.”
“Funny,” Josie said.
“Thanks for your help, Mr. Claudine,” Chief Abrams said. “We really appreciate it.”
“No problem. Good luck finding the dogs. And if you need anything else, just let me know. You’ll know where to find me for the next few weeks. And I don’t think you’ll need to use a tracking device.”
For some reason, he found his last comment especially funny, and his portion of the call finished with him still cackling on the other end of the line.
“Give us a minute,” Chief Abrams said. “Sammy’s on it.”
“I hope it’s nearby,” Chef Claire said, now gripping the steering wheel with both hands.
“Well, what do you know?” Chief Abrams said.
“What?” I said.
“Do you remember when we were dealing with all the craziness Rooster’s brother and cousin got us into last year?”
Last winter, a Dandie Dinmont we’d found had been stolen from the Inn, and we’d eventually tracked it down at a hunting camp Rooster
owned about twenty miles outside of Clay Bay. Chief Abrams description of the events was accurate. The whole situation had been crazy.
“Of course,” I said.
“Well, these coordinates point to a spot about two miles from that hunting camp,” Chief Abrams said.
Chef Claire started the engine, turned around, and we began bouncing our way down the rough road. Josie and I both held on for dear life as Chef Claire made her way back toward the highway.
“It looks like it’s about a quarter mile up and to the left of the access road,” Chief Abrams said. “Did Rooster say anything about his brother being back in town when you were talking to him at the restaurant?”
“No, but I can’t blame him for not mentioning it. I’m pretty sure he had something else on his mind,” I said.
“Good story?”
“Without a doubt,” I said.
“Any details worth sharing at the moment?” he said.
“Not yet. But stay tuned. Rooster knows those woods like the back of his hand so you might want to give him a call.”
“Just as soon as we finish this one,” he said. “I’ll get out there as soon as I can. And if you see anything that looks suspicious or even remotely dangerous, promise you’ll wait for me.”
I glanced at Chef Claire who shook her head no and gripped the steering wheel even tighter.
“Suzy?”
“Yes.”
“Do you promise?”
“Yes. I promise.”
“Suzy?”
“Yes, Chief?”
“You’ve got your fingers crossed, don’t you?”
“Yeah.”
Chapter 9
The drive to the access road that led to Rooster’s camp took about twenty minutes. Just before we made the turn off the highway, I glanced through the passenger side rear view mirror and noticed a black SUV with tinted windows about a hundred yards behind us. I glanced over at Chef Claire who was also keeping an eye on the SUV.
“How long have they been following us?” I said.
“I noticed the car just after we got back on the highway,” Chef Claire said. “It looks like something somebody from the government would drive.”
“Yeah, it does,” I said. “Why on earth would they be following us?”
