The Case of the Klutzy King Charles

  The Case of the

  Klutzy King Charles

  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: 978-1-942691-31-0

  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 Case of the Graceful Goldens

  The Case of the Hurricane Hounds

  The Case of the Itinerant Ibizan

  The Case of the Jaded Jack Russell

  The Whiskey Run Chronicles

  Episode 1 – The Dry Season Approaches

  Episode 2 – Friends and Enemies

  Episode 3 – Let the Games Begin

  Episode 4 – Enter the Revenuer

  Episode 5 – A Changing Landscape

  Episode 6 – Entrepreneurial Spirits

  Episode 7 – All Hands On Deck

  The Whiskey Run Chronicles – The Complete Volume 1

  The Damaged Posse

  American Midnight

  Larrikin Gene

  Sneaker World

  Summerman

  The Duplicates

  Other Books

  Divorce Hotel

  Either Ore

  To the Cullen Family

  We’ll always miss the ones we lose, and we will never forget.

  Chapter 1

  In my dream, I’m being chased.

  And although I’m desperate to get away and find sanctuary, my unseen pursuer is rapidly gaining ground. I hear footsteps on both sides of me and a soft whine - no make that a whimper - and I want to look back over my shoulder, but I’m afraid to even open my eyes much less turn for fear of what I might find lurking, tracking me down, relentlessly closing the gap between us. I continue my slow stroll forward on the soft, wet sand in total darkness.

  Apparently in my dreams, just like in daily life, I avoid strenuous physical activity like it was the plague.

  I feel the creature’s wet, cold touch. On my left arm, my feet, now my neck, and I squeeze my eyes tight as if believing what I can’t see can’t hurt me. Suddenly, a heavy weight drops on my chest, and it’s clear that I’ve lost my chance to escape. Faced with the choice between surrender or fighting for my life, I decide I need a moment to consider the implications of both options. To help clear my thoughts I reach for a bite-sized and slowly chew the delicious morsel of nougat topped with caramel and peanuts wrapped in chocolate, and I smile. But as the weight on my chest begins to impact my breathing, I realize this is not the time for grins and snickers.

  I laugh silently at what I consider a witty pun and unwrap a second one-bite wonder.

  But my laughter and snack are cut short when the weight on my chest deepens, and I feel sharp points pressing against my ribcage. I take a deep breath and wait for the thrust of the honed edge that’s certain to come my way and destroy several internal organs I really need in good working condition. Then I feel a rough, wet object slowly making its way across my neck. Up and down my sunburned skin it goes, and I’m horrified about what is next to come. I struggle, but my arms are pinned, and I’m unable to respond and fend off the attack. I consider screaming, but before I can make a sound, I hear the sound of two loud splashes. Have my attacker and I somehow fallen into some unseen body of water? I anticipate a drenching, but apart from my wet neck that my attacker appears to have a special fondness for, the rest of me is dry as a bone.

  Then it begins to rain, and I’m soaked by the sudden torrent. The rush of water pulls me out of my deep sleep, and I open my eyes. I blink several times and glance around my surroundings, baffled.

  Chloe is stretched out across my chest with her front paws pressed firmly against my ribs and giving Al and Dente the stink eye for having woken her. The two Goldens on either side of my recliner are staring at me and apparently refreshed by their swim. The wag of their tails reminds me of a metronome set to an up-tempo, four-four time, Captain gives my neck one final lick then decides the idea of an early morning dip sounds good. He lumbers to the edge of the pool, jumps in as if it’s second nature, and is soon churning laps.

  I slide Chloe off my chest and sit up to pet the Goldens that won’t take no for an answer and watch Captain swim back and forth. The early morning sun is slowly working its way above the horizon behind me, and it’s already apparent that the day will be hot and dry. At least it will be as soon as the two gallons of water Al and Dente shook all over me dries.

  “Merry Christmas!” Josie and Chef Claire say in unison as they exit the house through the sliding glass doors that lead out to the covered patio area next to the pool.

  “Wow. That’s right,” I say, smiling over my shoulder at them. “I almost forgot. Merry Christmas.”

  Josie hands me a mug of coffee, and I take a sip. They both stretch out in recliners on either side of me and accept the affections of Al and Dente while trying to protect their morning coffee.

  “I can’t believe I was out here all night.” I yawn and attempt a stretch that is cut short by Chloe’s hostile takeover of the recliner. “Chloe, why don’t you join Captain for a swim?”

  Chloe opens one eye, considers the idea, then dozes off.

  “You need to speak her language,” Josie says, laughing as she reaches for a tennis ball next to her recliner. “Chloe, hey, girl.” She bounces the tennis ball on the tile a few times until she has the Aussie’s attention. Then she fires it in the pool. Chloe tears after the ball and launches herself into the water and is soon tussling with Captain for control.

  “Great idea,” Chef Claire says as she grabs three more tennis balls and throws them into the deep end. Both Goldens are soon back in the pool with the other two dogs, and we sit back to enjoy our morning wake up call.

  “You were out last night,” Josie says, taking a sip. “We tried to wake you, then decided you looked pretty comfortable.”

  “I had a dream,” I say, trying to remember some of the details.

  “Was it any good?” Josie says.

  “Something was chasing me, and I was trying to escape.”

  “You were running?”

  “No, I think it was more of a leisurely stroll.”

  Josie and Chef Claire both laugh. We continue to watch the dogs frolicking in the pool.

  “Well, they sure wouldn’t be doing that at home today,” Josie says.

  “No, they wouldn’t,” I say with a shake of my head. “But it seems a bit odd to be on the beach on Christmas Day, doesn’t it?”

  “I’m fine with it,” Chef Claire says with a chuckle.

  “I just checked the weather in Clay
Bay.”

  “How bad is it?”

  “Twenty degrees, six inches of snow, but it’s supposed to warm up later, and there’s a fifty-fifty chance of freezing rain this afternoon.”

  “Yuk.” I scowl at the mental picture of a miserable winter day then laugh when Captain places a paw on Chloe’s head and playfully dunks her as she grabs for one of the tennis balls. “It’s almost like he can walk on water. He’s so comfortable in there.”

  “Yeah, it must be the webbed feet,” Josie says staring out at the Newfie who was continuing to dominate the pool. “He’s amazing in the water.”

  “So, what’s the schedule for the day?” Chef Claire says, finishing her coffee.

  “We have to be at my mom’s place by nine for breakfast,” I say, sliding my empty coffee mug under the recliner. “Her traditional Mimosas and Eggs Benedict.”

  “Now there’s a Christmas tradition I can get behind,” Chef Claire says as she yawns and stretches her arms over her head.

  “After that, we’ll open presents. Then she’s having her annual Christmas barbecue for all her friends. I don’t know what you guys will want to do after that, but I’m pretty sure I’ll need a long nap.”

  “We’ll have to leave the dogs in her garage until they dry off and we get a brush through them,” Josie says. “I can’t believe how much sand those guys collect in a day.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it,” Chef Claire says, staring at her Goldens. “And I’ve got two of them to deal with.”

  “But you wouldn’t change a thing, right?” Josie says.

  “Not a chance,” Chef Claire says, climbing out of her recliner and heading to the edge of the pool.

  Al and Dente notice her standing there, swim over for a quick hello, then make a beeline for Captain who is trying to hog all four tennis balls. The Newfie somehow manages to secure all of them in his mouth then climbs out of the pool. He heads our way, and before we can get to safety, he drops the balls at our feet and shakes vigorously.

  “Geez, Captain,” Josie says, wiping her face with the back of her sleeve. “You goofball.”

  Captain takes this as an invitation and drapes his front paws over Josie’s shoulders. She momentarily disappears from view as the massive dog shows her how much he adores her. She gently pushes him away, laughing the entire time.

  “They definitely need to dry off in the garage,” I say, laughing as I wipe myself off.

  “Yeah, your mom may be a converted dog lover, but I doubt she’d enjoy having to deal with that while she’s trying to make breakfast.”

  “No, I’m sure she wouldn’t. But if I can catch her standing by the pool later, who knows?” I say, laughing at the prospect.

  “You’re just still steamed because she made fun of what you were wearing last night,” Chef Claire says. “What was that thing anyway?”

  “It was a Christmas blouse,” I say, immediately on the defensive. “Hibiscus and Poinsettia.”

  “More like a Christmas tent,” Josie says with a frown. “And so much green and red.”

  “Hey, it’s festive. And comfortable. I am supposed to be on vacation, right?” I sit up in the recliner. “If we can’t figure out a way to get the dogs to shake all over her, maybe I can just accidentally bump her into the pool.”

  “Ho, ho, ho. Nice Christmas spirit,” Josie says, gently punching me on the shoulder.

  “Hey, even Santa would laugh at that.”

  Chapter 2

  I showered, changed into a pair of linen shorts and a solid color lavender blouse I knew would pass muster with my mother, and sat down in the great room that overlooked the patio and pool. I glanced around the house, a multi-level, seven-bedroom structure with more interesting nooks and crannies than the English muffin I’d eaten earlier. My mother bought the place last year for what she considered a song: A song with a whole lot of trailing zeros as I reminded her on a regular basis.

  She maintains she purchased it as an investment, which I’m sure is partially true, but her primary motive was to find a place where the three of us could stay when we visited. Getting me down here during the winter had been one of her goals for years since she hated the fact that we didn’t see each other for up to three months at a time. I’d resisted for several years, citing my work responsibilities at the Inn as an excuse, but Sammy and Jill, our two most-trusted staff members, had proven more than capable of running the place in our absence. Over time, my mother wore me down, and now I’m forced to admit that I love the idea of spending my winters in sand and sun instead of snow and ice and bone-chilling cold. Now I’m spending my winters waking up every morning to a cool ocean breeze and a view of the water that, although different, rivals the one we enjoy back home.

  Outside, the dogs were still swimming and roughhousing, and I was sure they’d be more than ready for an extended nap by the time we got to my mom’s house located a quarter-mile away down the beach. I stretched my legs out then wiggled my toes and felt the early morning breeze drift through the house. I picked up a tinge of salt in the air and was about to close my eyes and drift off when Chef Claire came out of her bedroom working an earring into one ear as she approached. She sat down across from me and gave my outfit a nod of approval. She slid the other earring into place then gently shook her head at me, causing the earrings to sway back and forth and sparkle in the early morning light.

  “What do you think?”

  “Very nice. Are those the ones my mom got you for your birthday?”

  “Yeah, I love them, but I’m nervous about wearing them when I’m working.”

  “Because you’re worried they’ll end up in somebody’s soup, right?”

  “Just my luck, one of them would fall into Josie’s food,” Chef Claire said.

  “You’ve seen her eat. I doubt if she’d even notice.”

  We were both still laughing when Josie walked into the great room. She glanced back and forth at us and frowned.

  “What did I miss?”

  “We were just discussing your amazing ability to focus on the task at hand and ignore distractions,” I said.

  “Yeah, I bet,” Josie said, twirling the pair of sandals she was holding. “You guys ready to go?”

  “We are,” I said, standing up and heading for the sliding glass doors.

  We paused before stepping out onto the patio.

  “How are we going to do this?” I said.

  “I was just thinking the same thing,” Chef Claire said. “I really don’t feel like getting drenched again.”

  “Watch and learn,” Josie said, stepping out onto the patio and whistling once sharply.

  The dogs stopped roughhousing, climbed out of the pool, and made a beeline for her. She whistled again, and the dogs stopped and stared at her with their heads cocked.

  “Stay,” Josie commanded. “Shake. No, stay. Shake.”

  All four dogs vigorously shook, and a cascade of water emerged from their fur and fell harmlessly onto the patio.

  “Good dogs,” Josie said, glancing over her shoulder at us. “Who’s the good dogs?”

  “Showoff,” Chef Claire said, stepping outside onto the patio to greet Al and Dente.

  We did our best to stay dry as we rubbed the dogs’ heads and then headed for the gate that sat in the middle of the perimeter fence surrounding the property. With the dogs leading the way, we made our way down to the beach and headed toward the water’s edge. The stiff onshore wind had dropped overnight, and the gentle breeze that remained felt great against my face as the water licked my feet. The dogs did a decent job of staying out of the ocean as they trotted down the flat stretch of sand near the water. Chloe appeared to be playing tag with the Goldens, and all three were growling playfully at each other. Then I stopped when I noticed Captain sitting on his haunches staring out at the ocean. I nudged Josie and nodded my head at the Newfie.

  “What is it, Captain?” Josie said, approaching the dog who maintained his intense stare.

  The dog woofed loudly and looked bac
k at Josie.

  “Do you see something out there?” she said, holding a hand up to block the glare.

  Captain barked several times in rapid succession, then sprung forward into the water and began churning his way out to sea.

  “Captain!” Josie shouted. “Get back here!”

  “Where the heck is he going?” I said, concerned but still admiring the dog’s power.

  “I have no idea,” Josie said, uncertain about her next move. “What on earth did he see?”

  I stared out and caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a yellow object barely floating about a hundred yards from the beach. I thought I saw movement next to the object but couldn’t be sure. Captain continued his beeline toward it, his focus complete.

  “If I’m not mistaken,” Chef Claire said, “I’d swear that’s an arm holding onto a submerged kayak.”

  I glanced out at blue water tipped with white from the chop and got a better look at the yellow object that was coming in and out of view.

  “I think you’re right,” I said, squinting hard as I knelt down to rub Chloe’s head. She was on her haunches next to me and also staring out at the water.

  “What the heck are we going to do?” Josie said, hands on hips. She began pacing back and forth on the sand, her eyes never leaving the Newfie.

  “I think we’re just going to have to wait and see,” I said. “And hope Captain knows what he’s doing.”

  “Well, he’s certainly a much better swimmer than we are. Look at him go,” Chef Claire said, holding Al and Dente by their collars. Neither dog appeared ready to follow Captain, but she wasn’t taking any chances.

  Captain came to a stop and began swimming in small circles as if sizing up the situation. We continued to stare out at the water, and I placed my hand on Josie’s shoulder in an effort to allay her fears. She jumped back when I touched her, startled.