The Case of the Eccentric Elkhound Read online

  The Case of the

  Eccentric Elkhound

  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: 978-1-942691-11-2

  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 Damaged Po$$e Series

  American Midnight

  Larrikin Gene

  Sneaker World

  Summerman

  The Duplicates

  Other books

  Divorce Hotel

  Either Ore

  To Dianne

  Chapter 1

  I stepped inside C’s feeling like a kid on Christmas morning, caught a whiff of something that reminded me of Thanksgiving, and immediately knew that this Memorial Day would be one I’d always remember. I’d never been to the opening night of a new restaurant, and my anticipation, along with everyone else’s, had been building over the past month as our official launch date approached.

  We removed our coats and handed them to the hostess, and I caught my first good look at Josie’s dress. I shook my head and laughed, realizing that soon every eye in the restaurant would be on her. We didn’t dress up often, but when we did, Josie took it very seriously. When she heard me laugh, she turned and gave me a quizzical look.

  “What’s so funny?” Josie said.

  “What happened to your dress?” I said.

  “What do you mean what happened to it?” she said, glancing down, then over her shoulder.

  “Did they run out of fabric?” I deadpanned.

  “What on earth are you talking about?” she said, genuinely confused.

  “There’s no back,” I said, laughing again.

  “Oh, that,” she said, relaxing. “I thought I might have spilled something on it already.” She turned sideways and took a look at herself in the floor length mirror near the entrance. “Is it too much?”

  “Only for the men with bad hearts,” I said, glancing around. “The place looks amazing.”

  We looked around at the polished hardwood floors, then up at the rotunda-style ceiling. A massive chandelier had been lovingly restored and was lit by a series of pin lights from several directions. It gave the main room a sense of elegance I hadn’t believed possible when my mother first bought the rundown building several months ago, and we had decided to open C’s. Our original plan was to open a restaurant primarily as a way to keep our good friend and housemate, Chef Claire, from leaving town. But as the renovations progressed, and we began to visualize what the place would look like, our excitement built and a sense of pride emerged.

  “Can you believe we’re part owners of this place?” I said, waving at several friends who were already sitting at their tables.

  “No,” Josie said, also waving. “And I think we’ve got a hit on our hands. Chef Claire said we’re already booked solid for the next three weeks.”

  The place was indeed full, and we’d been forced to squeeze in a couple extra tables to accommodate some friends we wanted here to help us celebrate opening night. I spotted my mother holding court at a round table set for twelve in the small alcove she’d placed permanent dibs on. As soon as my mother had noticed the alcove, she’d taken over the responsibility of furnishing it. She’d found the table and chairs at an antique shop in Montreal along with an ornate rug and a couple of small tables and lamps. The area of the restaurant we now referred to as Mrs. C’s Corner resembled a family dining room and I had to admit that my original fears that it would look out of place were unfounded. It looked fantastic, as did my mother. She waved at us, and I took my seat on her immediate left. Josie sat down next to me, leaned left, and gave Jackson, our local chief of police, a kiss on the cheek.

  “Hello, darling,” my mother said. “You look wonderful. Is that new?”

  “Hi, Mom,” I said, giving her a hug. “No, I’ve had this awhile. I just never seem to get a chance to wear it.”

  “That’s because you insist on spending your evenings at home wearing sweatpants,” she said, pouring two glasses of champagne.

  “Let’s not go there tonight, Mom,” I said, handing one of the glasses to Josie.

  “Gorgeous dress, Josie,” my mother said.

  “Thanks, Mrs. C.”

  I looked around the table and smiled and waved at Jackson, our chief of police, who was sitting next to our local medical examiner, Freddie. Next to him was Sammy and Jill, our two primary staff members, who were very much in love with each other as well as all our dogs. We’d asked our two summer interns to keep an eye on things at the Inn tonight since there was no way we would have allowed Sammy and Jill to miss the opening.

  On my mom’s immediate right was Howard Sands, the Mayor of Clay Bay and someone I’d known since I was a little girl. I gave him a small wave, and a smile then glanced around the rest of the table. I didn’t know the other four people and waited for my mother to handle the introductions.

  “Darling, I don’t believe you know Jimmy,” my mother said. “Jimmy, I’d like you to meet my daughter Suzy. And sitting next to her is Josie. They run the Thousand Islands Doggy Inn you’ve heard so much about.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, ladies,” he said, “I’m Jimmy Calducci.”

  He was wearing a shiny dark blue suit and periwinkle tie, and his gray hair was slicked back. My mother was right; I’d never met him, but his name rang a bell. Before I had time to ponder, Calducci continued with the introductions.

  “This is my wife, Dot. If you want to talk with her I suggest you try to do it early in the evening,” Calducci said with a laugh.

  “Right back at you, dear,” Dot said, not even bothering to make eye contact with her husband.

  “Next to her is Pee Wee. And next to him is Franny. They both work for me,” he said, sitting back in his chair. “So you’re the two dog folks you’re mother has told me so much about.”

  “I wouldn’t believe too much of what she tells you, Jimmy. She’s a drinker.”

  “Funny, darling.”

  Jimmy thought it was, and he laughed long and hard. While he did, I took a few moments to check out the other three strangers. Calducci’s wife was around my mom’s age and like my mother was doing a good job of beating back the aging process. She seemed to have a small smile frozen in place and was making short work of her champagne. Pee Wee, on her immediate right, must have been given his name by someone trying to be clever. He was huge with a thick neck that was threatening to disappear into his shoulders. It appeared he wasn’t a fan of and chitchat, and he constantly scanned the restaurant as if it was a job assignment. Next to him was an attractive woman somewhere in her thirties Calducci had int
roduced as Franny. She gave me a small smile, but it had an edge to it, and her eyes were half-closed. I decided the sleepy look was an affectation since it was obvious she wasn’t missing anything happening in the restaurant.

  “I’m a big dog guy myself,” Calducci said. “I just got a beautiful Elkhound puppy a couple of months ago.”

  “Oh, I love those,” Josie said. “They have that tail that curls up all the way up.”

  “They’re the national dog of Norway, right?” I said.

  “That’s the one,” Calducci said, chuckling. “He’s beautiful and growing fast, but I gotta say he’s a real handful.”

  “He’s an idiot,” Dot said, draining her champagne and holding out her glass for Pee Wee to refill. “I’m sure he gets that from his master.”

  Josie and I both did our best not to glare at Calducci’s wife. We’d never met a stupid dog, but we’d certainly met a lot of stupid owners.

  “He’s not an idiot, my dear,” Calducci said, his voice low and tempered. “Oslo is just a bit eccentric.”

  Dot scoffed at her husband’s response and took a gulp of champagne. But the odd smile remained frozen on her face.

  “Oslo?” I said. “What a cool name.”

  “Thanks,” Calducci said, then turned to the mayor sitting to his left. “So, they elected you mayor, Howard?”

  “Yeah,” Howard said, reluctantly acknowledging Calducci. “You sound surprised.”

  “Actually, shock would be more like it,” Calducci said, laughing. “But I guess every dog has its day, right? You remember that time I stuffed you in your school locker?”

  “Yeah, sure I remember, Jimmy,” Howard said, staring off into the distance.

  “Did you grow up around here, Mr. Calducci?” I said.

  “Early on. I left when I was twelve,” Calducci said.

  “Left? If I remember correctly,” Howard said. “Wasn’t it more like you were sent away?”

  Calducci flinched, and my mother leaned forward and placed a hand on the mayor’s arm.

  “Jimmy and I go way back, darling,” my mother said. “And after he left the area, we’ve managed to stay in touch all these years. Isn’t that right, Jimmy?”

  “It certainly is,” Calducci said, raising his glass and toasting my mother.

  “Why does his name sound so familiar?” Josie whispered.

  “I don’t know,” I whispered back. “And it’s driving me crazy.”

  Our waitress arrived carrying a stack of menus.

  “Good evening, folks,” she said. “How are you doing tonight?”

  “We’re great, Cynthia,” my mother said. “Is everything going well so far?”

  “It’s fantastic, Mrs. C.,” the waitress said. “It’s a little hectic in the kitchen, but that’s to be expected.”

  “How’s Chef Claire holding up?” I said.

  “She’s amazing. And all the staff just loves her. Chef Claire said to tell you that she’ll come out to say hi as soon as she gets a chance.”

  “Wonderful,” my mother said, accepting one of the menus.

  I also took one of the menus and smiled as the waitress started to hand one to Josie.

  “Thanks, but I won’t need one of those,” Josie said, shaking her head.

  It was true. She didn’t. Josie had spent the last two weeks memorizing the menu and had gone through a dozen different order combinations before finally deciding on what she’d be having tonight.

  “You’re Josie, right?” the waitress said, smiling.

  “Yeah?”

  “Chef Claire said you probably wouldn’t need a menu,” the waitress said. “She said you know it better than she does.”

  “Josie is a bit of a menu aficionado,” I said, laughing.

  Everyone at the table who knew Josie laughed. The Calducci clan looked on with bemused expressions.

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your orders,” the waitress said, then strolled off.

  “Have you changed your mind again about what you’re going to have?” I said.

  “No,” Josie said. “I think I’ve got it perfected. I’m going to start with a bowl of the Thai red curry soup, followed by the Caprese salad, then the Josie cut prime rib with the gruyere scalloped potatoes and the mushroom medley.”

  “The Josie cut?” Calducci’s wife said, raising an eyebrow.

  “We have three different cuts of the prime rib,” I said. “The smallest one is named The Mrs. C. The regular cut is The Suzy. And for the truly adventurous, there’s The Josie.”

  I spread my thumb and index finger about two inches apart to demonstrate.

  “Are you really going to eat all that food?” Calducci said, chuckling, yet sounding surprised.

  “You bet she is,” Jackson said.

  “Just don’t get too close when’s she holding a knife and fork and you’ll be fine, Mr. Calducci,” I said, laughing.

  “And whatever you do, never sneak up behind her when she’s eating,” Jackson said.

  “Funny,” Josie said, unfolding her napkin.

  She knocked her fork off the table and bent down to pick it up. Seconds later she popped up and placed the fork on the table and sat back in her chair. I noticed the odd look on her face and leaned closer to her.

  “What?” I whispered.

  “I just happened to see something under the table,” she whispered.

  “Please don’t tell me you saw a rat,” I whispered. “That’s all we need on opening night.”

  “No, nothing like that. It was Pee Wee’s hand.”

  “His hand? Where?” I whispered.

  “On Calducci’s wife’s leg.”

  “Like a fatherly pat on the knee?” I whispered.

  “More like a dirty uncle squeeze,” she whispered into her napkin.

  “On her thigh?”

  “I guess it could still be considered part of the thigh,” Josie whispered, then wiped her mouth with the napkin.

  “That explains the goofy smile she’s had on her face since we sat down,” I said, slightly louder.

  “Knock it off,” my mother whispered as she glared at us. “It’s not ladylike to whisper at the table.”

  “You’re whispering,” I said to my mother.

  “Be that as it may, darling,” my mother said, taking a sip of champagne and leaning closer. “What’s so important that you two need to whisper like a couple of five-year-olds?”

  “Pee Wee’s playing squeeze the thigh with Dot under the table,” I whispered into her ear, sneaking a glance at Calducci who remained oblivious to what was happening right under his nose.

  “Really?” my mother whispered. “I was wondering why she seemed so happy tonight. She’s usually a miserable human being.”

  “Who is this Calducci guy, Mom?” I whispered. “His name sounds familiar, and I don’t know why. It’s driving me crazy.”

  “We’ll have that conversation later,” my mother said, sitting upright in her chair. “Trust me, darling. It’s not one we want to have over dinner.”

  Chapter 2

  By the time eleven o’clock rolled around, we’d said goodbye to nearly everyone who’d come to opening night and headed for the lounge where Chef Claire was already waiting for us. We paused near the door to say goodbye to the Calducci clan who were waiting for their coats. They, like the rest of us, were stuffed and moving slowly. Mrs. Calducci was being held upright by Pee Wee who had his arm around her waist. I’d lost track of how many glasses of champagne she’d had, but I knew if Pee Wee let go, Calducci’s wife would drop like a rock. Jimmy ignored his wife as he slipped his coat on and hugged my mother.

  “What a meal,” he gushed. “What a restaurant. Just incredible.”

  “Thanks, Jimmy,” my mother said. “I’m so glad you enjoyed it. And thanks again for coming.”

  “I wouldn’t have missed it,” Calducci said. “And if the restaurant is ever in need of my services, you be sure and let me know.”

  “You’ll be the first person
we call, Jimmy,” my mother said.

  “You sure you can’t make it tomorrow,” Calducci said. “It should be a lot of fun.”

  “Oh, I wish I could, Jimmy,” my mother said, turning on the charm. “But we have some restaurant business to take care of. I’m sure you understand.”

  “Okay. But you’re coming the next time we take the houseboat out,” Calducci said. “And I won’t take no for an answer.”

  “You got it, Jimmy,” my mother said, smiling as she gave him a peck on the cheek. “Good night all. Drive safe.”

  Franny, the woman with the narrow eyes, pushed the front door open, scanned the immediate area outside, then nodded at Calducci. He nodded at Pee Wee who then helped Dot out the door then gave us a small wave as they departed. Franny waited until everyone was outside then nodded at us and mumbled a quick thank you just before the door closed behind her.

  We walked into the lounge and found Chef Claire sitting on one of the couches sipping wine and reviewing a huge stack of receipts. I sat down next to her and gave her a long hug.

  “Congratulations,” I said. “Everyone is raving about the place.”

  “Thanks, Suzy,” Chef Claire said as tears welled in her eyes.

  “What’s the matter?” I said.

  “I’m just so happy,” Chef Claire said. “I can’t believe the renovations are finally done, and we’ve opened. And the place looks beautiful.”

  Josie sat down on the other side of Chef Claire. My mother, along with Jackson and Freddie, sat down on a couch directly across from us. Everyone congratulated Chef Claire, and she modestly accepted their well wishes and thanks.

  “Can I get you guys an after dinner drink?” Chef Claire said.

  Everyone, except Josie, shook their heads.

  “Alka-Seltzer on the rocks for me, please,” Josie said, pressing a hand against her chest. “Man, I’m such a little piggy.”