by B R Snow
“Nothing gets past you.”
I put my phone away and walked next to Very as we began our walk down the long incline that led back to the cabin.
“What do you think your mom is going to want to do about Gabby?” I said, finding the walk back much easier.
“Well, since she’s pregnant, I imagine she’ll want to keep her around for a while.”
“For a while?” I said, frowning.
“Mama’s not really a dog lover,” Very said. “But she knows what those puppies are worth.”
“Gabby’s going to need surgery on her leg as soon as she delivers,” I said.
“That sounds expensive,” Very said, scuffing the snow with her boots as she walked.
“Don’t worry about that,” I said. “We’ll figure something out. What about you?”
“What about me?” she said, glancing over at me.
“Are you a dog lover?”
“At first, I wasn’t. But now I like having Gabby around,” Very said, then recited from memory. “The better I get to know people, the more I find myself loving dogs.”
“Somebody famous said that, right?”
“Charles DeGaulle,” she said, then chuckled. “Not that I’ve had much of a chance to get to know people living out here,” she said. “Do you know that, apart from my family, you’re the first person I’ve spoken face to face with in almost a year?”
“Well, that’s going to change soon, right?” I said, smiling at her. “You’ve got a big date coming up.”
“Yes, I do,” she said, nodding. “You got any tips for me?”
“Definitely have the chocolate soufflé.”
“Actually, I was talking about ways to make the date extra special,” Very said, laughing.
“So was I.”
Chapter 7
I followed Very onto the porch and sat back down at the picnic table between Rooster and the Chief. Between our trek on the way in and my walk with Very through the woods, I was exhausted and my knees and ankles ached. I glanced out at the path that led back to where we’d parked and wondered how much I’d have to pay them to carry me back to Rooster’s truck.
“How was your walk?” Chief Abrams said.
“Peachy,” I said, reaching for the glass of water that sat in front of him.
“Hang on,” Rooster said, trying to grab the glass before I got my hands on it.
“I’m parched,” I said, then drained the glass, gagged as my throat seemed to catch fire, and began a massive coughing fit that finally ended just before I hacked up a lung.
“Good, huh?” Rooster said, laughing.
“Smooth,” I croaked, wiping my mouth with the back of my glove. “What on earth is that stuff?”
“It’s my shine,” Jessie said. “Cleans those sinuses right out, doesn’t it?”
“At a minimum,” I said. “Geez, that’s strong.”
“You’re supposed to sip it,” Rooster said, laughing.
“I’ll try to remember that,” I said, sucking cold air into my lungs. “What do you make it with?”
“Corn and some other grains,” Jessie said, deflecting. “It’s an old family recipe my great-granddaddy used to use. He’s was a bootlegger back during Prohibition.”
“You make your own booze?” I said.
“I kinda have to,” she said, shrugging. “It’s not like I can just run down the street for a six-pack. Besides, it gives me something to do in the winter other than needlepoint.”
“Fair enough,” I said, my internal organs finally starting to settle down. “Did you speak with Jessie about the dog?”
“No,” Rooster said. “We thought we’d wait for you.”
“What about the dog?” Jessie said, focusing on me.
“She’s got a broken leg,” I said. “She got her front left leg caught in one of your husband’s traps.”
“I tried to tell him not to take that dog with him when he went trapping,” Jessie said, shaking her head. “Is she okay?”
“She’s going to need surgery,” I said.
“How much is that going to cost me?” she said.
“Don’t worry about that,” I said, waving it away. “But we won’t be able to do the surgery until after she delivers her litter.”
I watched her reaction closely. Primarily, it was a combination of surprise and confusion.
“Gabby’s pregnant?” she said. “That’s impossible.”
“We think she’s about a week away from delivering,” I said, shrugging.
Jessie sat quietly, deep in thought. Then she shook her head and looked at me.
“When can I come in and pick her up?”
“She should probably stay with us until she delivers and then has her surgery,” I said. “I’m gonna guess at least a couple of weeks.”
“Okay,” she said, giving it some thought. “But all the puppies are mine, right?”
“Of course,” I said, surprised by the question. “We’d never separate you from your dogs.”
“No,” she said, embarrassed. “Of course, you wouldn’t.” She perked up and glanced at Rooster and the Chief. “Some more shine, gentlemen?”
“No, thanks,” the Chief said. “We should probably get going.”
“Yeah, it’s starting to come down pretty heavy,” Rooster said, getting to his feet. “I’m sorry to have to drop in with bad news like this, Jessie.”
She shrugged and sipped her glass of moonshine.
“Do you know what you’re going to do now, Jessie?” I said.
“Now, that is a good question,” she said, slowly nodding her head. “And I’m going to have to give it some serious thought.”
“Well, just let me know if you need anything,” Rooster said.
“Thanks, Rooster,” she said. “What about Skitch’s truck?”
“We’ll make sure it gets dropped off,” Chief Abrams said.
“Thanks,” she said, slipping back into deep thought.
The front door flew open, and Cooter dashed out onto the porch with one hand behind his back.
“Oh, good,” he said, excited. “You’re still here. Look what I found.”
He held a furry object directly in front of my face.
“This is for you,” he said, placing it in my hand. “It’s the hat I was talking about. I made this for you.”
“Gee, thanks, Cooter,” I said, slowly turning it over in my hands, half-expecting it to bite me.
“Try it on,” he said, bouncing up and down.
“Sure, sure,” I said, sliding the hat over my head. It was way too big, and it fell over my ears and covered my forehead.
“Perfect fit,” Cooter said. “Do you like it?”
“It’s…unbelievable,” I said, glancing at Rooster and the Chief who were trying not to laugh.
“Just think of me when you wear it,” Cooter said.
“I’m sure I’ll have a hard time thinking of anyone else, Cooter,” I said, pushing the hat up so I could see. “Thanks. That was very sweet of you.”
“I’m glad you like it,” he said, bouncing again.
“We should get going,” the Chief said. “I’ll let you know about the truck, Jessie. And I’ll make sure the funeral home gets your instructions.”
“Thanks,” Jessie said, getting up from the table.
“Again, we’re really sorry about what happened to Skitch,” Rooster said. “He was a good guy.”
“You really think so, Rooster?” Jessie said, frowning at him.
“Well, sure,” Rooster said, taken aback. “Cooter, Very, it was nice seeing you. And I’m sorry for your loss.”
I waved goodbye and followed Rooster and Chief Abrams down the steps and toward the trail that led back to the truck.
“Man, it’s really coming down,” the Chief said. “You sure you’re going to be able to find your way back to where you parked?”
“Pretty sure,” Rooster said. “But not to worry. We’ve got Davy Crockett here to lead the way.”
“S
hut it.”
“Yeah, nice hat,” the Chief said. “And if things don’t work out between you and Max, I’m sure Cooter will be more than happy to step up and do some serious courtin’.”
“Don’t be mean,” I said, glancing over my shoulder to make sure we were out of sight. I removed the hat and stuffed it into my bag. “It was sweet of him to do that.”
“Just make sure you remember to feed it,” Rooster said. “You don’t want to be walking around with a hungry hat on your head.”
“Knock it off,” I said, staggering slightly as the effect of the half-glass of moonshine I’d chugged started to kick in. “I’m trying to concentrate.”
“Well, then you better put your thinking cap back on,” the Chief said.
“Keep it up, and one of you will be getting it as a Christmas present.”
That shut them up.
Chapter 8
I rubbed olive oil and herbs over a large tray of chopped vegetables, added salt and pepper along with a few sprigs of fresh Rosemary, then slid them into the oven. I washed my hands and glanced at Chef Claire who was taking the temperatures of our guests of honor. For the record, our guests were an enormous beef tenderloin, a twenty-pound turkey, and a smoked ham that Rooster had brought along to our annual Christmas Eve dinner.
“Okay,” I said, tossing the dish towel over my shoulder. “What’s next?”
“I think we’re good,” Chef Claire said, glancing around the kitchen. “But I wouldn’t mind a refill on my wine if you’re buying.”
“That I can do,” I said, refilling her glass. “If you don’t need anything else, I’m going to head in.”
“I’ll just be a few minutes,” she said, closing the oven doors.
“Merry Christmas,” I said, giving her a hug.
“Same to you,” she said, squeezing me tight.
“And there’s really no reason for you to stick around,” I said. “Josie and I will get down there just as soon as we get things settled with the Otterhound.”
“No, I’d like to stay,” she said. “Maybe I’ll get a few days of cross-country in.”
“When you could be hanging out on the beach?”
“I’ll have four months to do that,” Chef Claire said. “Besides, I’m sure Josie is going to need all the help she can get trying to keep you out of trouble.”
“Funny,” I said, making a face at her as I headed for the living room.
I spotted my mother and her boyfriend Paulie sitting on one of the couches. Queen, the Cavalier King Charles spaniel we’d given her for her last birthday, was, as always, perched on her lap taking everything in. Directly across from them were Rooster and Chief Abrams. Everyone was sipping eggnog and sampling appetizers from the elaborate collection Chef Claire had put together. My mother slid closer to Paulie as I approached and patted the couch. I sat down and glanced around at our other guests.
“Did you put the dogs downstairs?” I said to Josie as she handed me a glass of eggnog.
“Yeah, it was just too crowded with them here. Between all these people eating and drinking, the tree and the gifts, and eight wagging tails, it was a disaster just waiting to happen,” she said, sitting down between Rooster and the Chief. “So, I gave them a snack, a fresh batch of toys, and they’re all settled in.”
“And how did you escape being banished?” I said to Queen as I scratched her ear.
“I think she’s permanently attached to your mom’s lap,” Paulie said, laughing as he scratched the dog’s other ear.
“She’s gorgeous,” Josie said, beaming at the King Charles.
“So, what’s this about the three of you postponing your trip?” my mother said.
“I need to be here to keep an eye on the Otterhound until she delivers,” Josie said. “And then I’ll do the surgery on her leg.”
“And what’s your excuse?” my mother said, glancing over at me.
“She’ll be Snoopervising,” Josie deadpanned.
“Funny,” I said. “I’m just going to stick around and give Josie a hand.”
“I see,” my mother said. “Okay. But that means you won’t be in Cayman for my New Year’s Eve party.”
“Probably not,” I said. “Sorry, Mom.”
“Just promise me you won’t do anything crazy,” my mother said.
“What makes you think I would do something crazy?” I said, frowning at her.
“Rhetorical, right?” Josie said to Rooster.
“There’s really nothing suspicious about this one,” I said. “The guy got shot by a stray bullet then fell into the water and drowned.”
“Well done, darling,” my mother said, nodding. “I’m so happy when you let the facts speak for themselves.”
“I’m impressed,” Chief Abrams said.
“Thanks,” I said. “Although there is one thing that’s bugging me.”
A collective groan filled the room.
“Relax,” I said. “It’s probably not a biggie, but I do have a question for Paulie.”
“Me?” Paulie said, frowning. “I don’t know anything about Otterhounds and even less about muskrat trapping.”
“Which should make her next question highly entertaining,” the Chief said, laughing.
“I’m seeing your name on a wonderful gift,” I said, raising an eyebrow at him.
Rooster snorted.
“Okay,” Paulie said. “What’s your question?”
“What do you know about dog semen?”
“I beg your pardon?” Paulie said, baffled.
“Not regular dog semen,” I said. “Illegal semen.”
“Wow,” he said, glancing at my mother. “I wouldn’t have gotten that with a million guesses.”
“Me either,” my mother said, staring at me. “Darling, must you? It’s Christmas Eve. Just tell your neurons that if they don’t behave, Santa won’t come.”
Josie and Rooster burst out laughing.
“You two are no help at all,” I said, glaring at both of them.
“Yeah, we’re the problem here,” Josie said, shaking her head. “But please continue. You definitely have my attention.”
“Don’t encourage her,” my mother said.
“I’m just wondering if Paulie, back when he was working on the dark side, ever happened to come across any criminals who were involved in high-end dog breeding.”
“Why on earth would you ask that question?” my mother said, stroking Queen’s head.
“I’m just confused about something,” I said, frowning. “How would a guy who lived in the wilderness end up owning a rare Otterhound and then start breeding it via artificial insemination?”
“He was breeding the Otterhound?” Josie said, surprised by the news.
“Yes, according to Very,” I said. “She said her dad had used AI for two previous litters but wasn’t planning on the next one until sometime in the spring.”
“He must have changed his mind,” Josie said. “Was he selling the puppies?”
“Not individually. Very said he would sell the whole litter off when they were around seven weeks. She also said she doesn’t know where he got the semen or who he was selling the puppies to.”
“How much money is involved in something like that?” my mother said.
“Well, since Otterhounds are pretty rare, you could probably get up to three grand each,” Josie said. “Maybe more. And an average litter is somewhere around six puppies.”
“But Skitch wouldn’t have gotten all that money,” Rooster said. “He was probably paid a fee for the litter. He might have got five grand if he was lucky.”
“But for somebody who lived the way that family does, five grand would be a lot of money, right?” I said.
“Yeah, I imagine it would,” Rooster said, nodding. “But it’s just such a weird thing for Skitch to be involved in.”
“Have you ever come across anything like that before?” I said to Paulie.
“No, that’s a new one on me,” he said, shaking his head. “But if
you were dealing with rare breeds and producing lots of litters, I guess it’s enough money to make it worth the effort.”
“Would it be possible for you to make a few calls?” I said.
“And do what?” he said, laughing. “See if any of my old buddies know where I can buy a rare dog?”
“Not just a rare dog,” I said. “An Otterhound puppy.”
“You’re joking, right?” Paulie said, staring at me. Then he turned to my mother. “She’s joking, isn’t she?”
“Take a good look at her face,” my mother said.
“Okay, now I see it,” Paulie said, staring at me. “She’s not joking. Suzy, I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“C’mon, Paulie,” I said. “Please.”
“Don’t beg, darling. It’s most unbecoming.”
“Just a couple of calls,” I said. “Somebody in your former circle must know who might be involved in something like that.”
“I don’t know, Suzy,” Paulie said. “Why do you even want to know?”
“I just have a nagging feeling that it’s somehow important,” I said.
“Important how?” the Chief said.
“I don’t know,” I said, frowning. “And that’s what is driving me nuts.”
“Maybe somebody in the family was trying to pull a fast one on Friendly,” Josie said.
“Now, that’s interesting,” I said, nodding.
“Well, there goes our last chance for a quiet dinner,” my mother said, glaring at Josie. “You’re as bad as she is.”
“No, think about it, Mrs. C.,” Josie said. “Maybe the kids decided they wanted to get some of that money. Somehow they managed to get their hands on some illegal semen and impregnate the dog without their father knowing anything about it.”
“How would they keep a litter of puppies a secret for almost two months?” the Chief said.
“Now, that is a very good question,” Josie said, sipping eggnog. “Never mind.”
“No, hang on,” I said, giving it some thought before discarding the idea. Then I shook my head. “No, you’re right. That would be really tough to do.” My neurons flared, and I glanced around with a smile. “Unless they took the dog off the property before she gave birth.”
“There you go,” Josie said, grinning. “That’s our girl.”
