The Case of the Valiant Vizsla Page 2

  “Remember that the next time we’re talking salary,” Imelda said, sounding serious. Then she brightened and beamed back and forth at us. “It’s nice to meet you. We took a boat tour this morning. It’s a beautiful area. I had no idea this place existed.”

  “It’s a special place,” Josie said, then focused on the man sitting directly across from her. She extended her hand. “I’m Josie. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Same here,” the man said as he returned the handshake. “Wilbur Smithers.”

  “Are you an author?” I said, shaking his hand.

  “Heaven forbid,” he said without emotion. “No, I’m a lawyer.”

  “Wilbur is Blankenship’s lead counsel,” Selma said, effortlessly sliding into the conversation. “He handles most of our author contracts and spends a lot of time on ancillary markets. You know, international rights, TV and film, stuff like that.”

  “Sure, sure,” I said, nodding. “What brings you here?”

  “Selma is punishing me,” he said. “Says I need to get out of the office more. So, here I am.”

  “You poor baby,” Selma said as she glanced around the table to emphasize her next point. “I thought it would be good for Wilbur to reconnect with some of our authors. It’s easy to lose your perspective if you spend all your time on the 35th floor.”

  “Nice try, Selma,” the lawyer said as he stirred the ice in his cocktail. “Moving on.”

  “Somebody touched a nerve,” Josie whispered to me.

  “Absolutely,” I whispered back without making eye contact. I turned to Dianne and did my best not to gush. “I’ve been waiting forever for your next book. When is it coming out?”

  “Hopefully, it won’t be long,” Dianne said, then snuck a furtive peek at Selma.

  The publisher stifled a laugh before taking another long sip. Their brief, silent exchange caught my attention and I filed it away.

  “I love your restaurant. Is it always this busy?” Joshua said.

  “Pretty much,” Josie said, reaching for another piece of bread. “At least during the summer.”

  “I’ve heard so much about your chef,” Dianne said.

  “From my mother, right?” I said, waving to our server as she approached.

  “Yes, some,” Dianne said. “But mostly from my nephew. He’s quite taken with her.” Then she chuckled to herself. “What a delicious name. Chef Claire.”

  “How is Agent Tompkins?” I said, reaching for another piece of bread.

  “Apart from working far too hard, he’s fine,” she said, then sat back in her chair and smiled up at Bobbie, one of our servers.

  “Hey, Suzy. Josie.”

  “Hi, Bobbie,” I said. “What a zoo, huh?”

  “Yeah, it’s crazy. And a word of advice. I’d stay out of the kitchen for at least the next hour,” Bobbie said with a laugh. “Chef Claire’s in the zone.”

  Josie and I both nodded since we were very familiar with Chef Claire’s intense focus when the restaurant was busy. People interrupting her Zen-like concentration while she was trying to fill dozens of orders did so at their own risk.

  “I’d like to welcome all of you to C’s,” Bobbie said, passing out menus. She spotted the empty chair and looked at me. “Are you still for waiting for one more?”

  “Geez, I’m not sure,” I said.

  “My agent,” Dianne said.

  “Mine too,” Joshua interjected.

  “But she’s late as usual. Just leave the menu. She’ll be here soon.”

  Bobbie took our drink orders then departed.

  “I can’t believe my mother convinced you to participate in a local arts festival.”

  “Actually, it wasn’t that hard,” Dianne said. “And I wanted to meet you.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes. Your reputation precedes you,” she said. “And I think you’d make a great lead character for a new series I’m planning. A fictionalized version of you, of course.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Maybe we can talk about it later,” the author said, then spotted a woman heading for the table. “There she is.”

  Everyone at the table focused on her as she made her way to the table. She came to a stop directly behind the remaining empty chair and stared down at it. She was rail-thin with jet black hair that belied her age, which I put somewhere around fifty. She frowned as she continued to study the chair.

  “Oh, my,” the woman said. “I’m not sure about this.”

  “For heaven’s sake, Claudia,” the lawyer said, shaking his head. “Please, just sit down.”

  “It’s fine, Claudia,” Dianne said, forcing a smile. “They’re quite comfortable.”

  The woman slowly worked her way onto her chair and shifted back and forth several times until she was satisfied.

  “Is she worried the chair is going to eat her?” Josie whispered.

  “Don’t start,” I said, stifling a laugh. “Hi, Claudia. I’m Suzy. And this is Josie.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” she said, giving us the briefest of looks before focusing on her menu. Then she looked up and addressed the table. “I’m sorry I’m late. One of the local artists has an amazing collection of kaleidoscopes in wooden telescopes. They’re quite remarkable. It took me forever to decide which one to get.”

  “What did you end up getting?” Dianne said.

  “Nothing,” Claudia said. “I had too much on my mind to make a thoughtful decision. I’ll stop by the booth later after my head clears.”

  The lawyer rolled his eyes and again swirled the ice in his drink before tossing back what was left.

  “Good luck with that,” he whispered to himself before picking up his menu. “What’s good here?”

  “Everything,” Josie said.

  “I think you’ll like the food,” I said.

  “And if you don’t, just let me know,” Josie said. “I’ll eat it.”

  I turned back to Dianne. “You really want to use me as one of your characters?”

  “I do,” she said, then finished her wine. “Maybe we can talk about it on our fishing trip.”

  “Perfect. If you’re up for it, we’ll head out after lunch.”

  “Oh, I would, but I’m afraid we have an afternoon meeting scheduled,” Dianne said. “How about tomorrow morning?”

  “Even better,” I said. “You know, as far as catching fish goes. But we’ll need to be out on the water by six-thirty at the latest.”

  “My, that’s early,” she said, frowning. “But I’m in. I’ll just need to be back in time for my two o’clock presentation.

  “That won’t be a problem,” I said, then turned to Josie. “You up for fishing tomorrow morning?”

  “No can do,” she said. “I’m booked solid all morning.”

  “Your loss,” I said, then caught the look on her face. I followed her eyes and stared at the agent who was meticulously rearranging the place setting in front of her. Something about it was obviously distressing her and she appeared confused. “Is something wrong?”

  “I’m lefthanded,” Claudia said, holding her knife and fork in one hand and a water glass in the other. “I really should be sitting at the end of the table.”

  Wilbur, who was sitting in the seat in question, sighed loudly before getting to his feet.

  “By all means, take my seat, Claudia,” he said.

  “Really?” she said.

  “Anything I can do to help you find your focus,” he said, taking a step back to give her room to slide into his chair.

  “Thank you, Wilbur,” Claudia said, beaming as she sat down. We watched her fidget non-stop until she eventually sat back in her chair and sighed contentedly. “Much better.”

  “Eccentric?” Josie whispered. “Or a total wingnut?”

  “TBD,” I whispered back. I glanced over at Dianne who was studying her agent with a sad smile. “How long has she been your agent?”

  “Forever,” the author said. “Unfortunately, that’s the problem.”

  Chapter 3

  I bounced Max on my knee as I watched Josie expertly chop vegetables for a salad. Max’s attention seemed drawn to the rhythm of the knife hitting wood, and she gurgled contentedly as she jiggled both arms.

  “You want a hand with anything?”

  “No,” Josie said, making a face at Max. “You just keep doing what you’re doing there.”

  “She is a handful,” I said, shaking my head as I lifted Max and held her close. “Aren’t you?”

  Max giggled and kicked her legs. I felt the familiar surge of unconditional love as I gently squeezed her.

  “She’s a happy kid,” Josie said, then focused on the recipe in front of her. “What time did you tell everyone to be here?”

  “Seven. I’ll set the table after I get her down for a nap.”

  “Thanks. Just make sure I’m sitting far away from the weirdo,” Josie said, looking up from her work to emphasize her point.

  “Sorry, but she’s all yours,” I said, laughing. “She’s left-handed, remember?”

  “So?”

  “My mom always sits on my right during family dinner,” I said with a grin. “That only leaves the other end of the table. But you’ll be fine. Just get her talking about kaleidoscopes. Or creative ways to arrange place settings.”

  “She must be good at her job,” Josie said. “Because she would drive me nuts if I had to deal with her on a regular basis.”

  “She’s quirky,” I said.

  “She a nutjob. Are you comfortable with the idea of being a character in a book?”

  “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I don’t know,” Josie said with a shrug. “But I don’t think I’d like it.”

  “That’s because you’re the most private person I’ve eve
r met.”

  “Nonsense. I’m just cautious,” she said. “Who else is coming?”

  “Well, my mom and Paulie will be here. And Rooster.”

  “Is Lacie coming?”

  “No, she said she had something to take care of at the Lodge tonight. I think she’s meeting with the guy who’s building the fence around the hybrid sanctuary.”

  “Those two have become inseparable,” she said, sliding the vegetables into a large wooden bowl. “You think they might decide to make it permanent?”

  “Hard to tell,” I said, nestling Max against my shoulder when she started to nod off. “But I think it’s a possibility. They’re an odd combination, but it seems to be working for them.”

  “It does,” she said, checking her watch. “Okay, I’m going to get the ziti in. Remind me to put the chicken in the oven in half an hour.”

  “Will do,” I said. “Or you could just set the timer.”

  “Nothing gets past you,” she deadpanned.

  “I’m going to get her down for a nap,” I said, sliding off the stool.

  “I’m going to open a bottle of wine,” Josie said, wiping her hands on a dish towel as she scanned the wine rack next to the fridge.

  I headed for my bedroom and gently placed Max in her crib. I watched her until I was satisfied she was sound asleep and headed back to the dining room. I set the table and jotted names on cards, chuckling to myself when I set Claudia’s card next to Josie’s. Then we lounged in the living room and chatted about nothing as we sipped wine.

  My mother and Paulie were the first to arrive, and we got them settled in with drinks while my mother peeked in on Max before eventually joining us.

  “She’s still out,” my mother said. “But that makes sense. We had quite a play session this afternoon.”

  “Thanks for doing that, Mom. And you’re still good to keep an eye on her in the morning?”

  “I’ll be here at six,” she said.

  “I’d be shocked if you weren’t, Mrs. C.,” Josie said.

  We glanced up when we heard the soft knock on the kitchen door followed by Rooster’s entrance.

  “Good evening, all,” he said, accepting the glass of wine Josie was holding out. “I brought a couple bottles of red. They’re in the kitchen.”

  “Thanks, Rooster,” I said. “I’m sorry Lacie couldn’t make it.”

  “Me too,” he said with a grin. “What are we having for dinner?”

  “Ziti, breaded chicken cutlets and a salad,” Josie said.

  “Her loss,” Rooster said.

  “They’ll be plenty,” Josie said. “Take a plate for her with you.” Then she gave him a coy smile. “Assuming you’ll be seeing her later.”

  “Don’t start,” I said, laughing.

  Then we heard a knock on the kitchen door.

  “I’ll get it,” I said, getting to my feet.

  I greeted the group we’d had lunch with earlier and escorted them into the living room. I handled introductions as Josie poured wine. After they got settled in, I couldn’t miss their collective mood; a mixture of frustration and confusion tinged with anger. Josie noticed it as well and glanced over at me. I gave her a small shrug and pressed forward in an attempt to cut the tension filling the room.

  “Did you get a chance to have some fun this afternoon?” I said.

  “No,” Dianne said, immediately taking the lead. “I’m afraid our meeting ran long.”

  “I hate when that happens,” Josie said.

  “You get used to it,” Wilbur the lawyer said, then held his glass up to the light. “This is great wine.”

  “We had a bit of trouble sorting out a few issues,” Dianne said softly.

  Both Claudia and Selma snorted.

  “Let’s not do this again,” Wilbur said as he examined the wine bottle. “Italian. I’m not familiar with this one.”

  “Stop the presses,” Claudia said into her glass. “The lawyer admits to not knowing something.”

  Already desperate for a change of subjects, I turned to Dianne. “Where’s Velcro?”

  “Oh, I left him on my balcony at the hotel,” she said. “He’ll be fine.”

  “You should have brought him with you,” I said. “He could have played with our guys.”

  “You keep dogs in the house?” Claudia said, glancing around nervously.

  “They’re downstairs in the game room,” Josie said. “We’ll let them out after dinner.”

  “How many dogs do you have?” Claudia said.

  “Down at the Inn we have seventy at the moment,” I said. “But we only have four house dogs.”

  “Only four,” Claudia said with a frown. “That sounds like a lot.”

  “You’d think that,” Josie said. “But not really. I have a Newfie. Suzy has an Aussie Shepherd, and Chef Claire has two Goldens.”

  “Great dogs,” Paulie said, nodding. “All of them.”

  “And wonderful with Max,” my mother said.

  “Max?” Claudia said.

  “My daughter. She’s four months old. She’s taking a nap but I’m sure she’ll be up soon. Maybe we should eat while we have the chance.”

  “Great idea,” Josie said, heading for the kitchen. “Rooster, you mind giving me a hand?”

  “I live to serve,” he said, following her.

  “Let’s head to the dining room,” I said. “Just find your spot and have a seat.”

  Everyone, except Claudia, sat down at the table and settled in. Claudia remained standing with both hands clasping the back of her chair. She stared down at the chair, glanced off into the distance, then back down at the chair. She sighed loudly, uncertain about her next move.

  “Problem?” Wilbur said.

  “No,” Claudia said then ran a hand through her hair.

  “Please, Claudia,” Dianne whispered. “Just take your seat.”

  Claudia nodded then slowly sunk into the chair next to Josie’s and inched it closer to the table. I watched the scene play out from the other end of the table, again surprised by Claudia’s demeanor as well as by the lack of reaction from the rest of her group. But I, along with my mother and Paulie, stared in disbelief at the woman.

  “Does that chair have cooties?” my mother whispered as she leaned in close.

  “I don’t think so,” I said, stifling a laugh.

  Josie and Rooster arrived with dinner. They arranged the various dishes on the table then sat down.

  “We usually do family style,” Josie said, holding out a serving spoon to Claudia who eventually accepted it. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all,” Dianne said. “It smells fantastic.”

  “Chef Claire’s recipes,” Josie said as she glanced at Claudia who had surrendered the spoon to Joshua sitting on her right. “Aren’t you hungry?”

  “I’m starving,” Claudia said, gripping the sides of her chair with both hands. Then she ran both hands through her hair and vigorously shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. This just won’t do.”

  We watched as Claudia got out of her chair and dragged it away from the table. She headed for the living room and returned lugging a leather footstool. She placed it where the chair had been, and I looked on in disbelief as she knelt on the footstool and wiggled forward on her knees until she was satisfied.

  “Much better,” she said to herself more than anyone else.

  Josie, about to serve herself salad, put the tongs back in the bowl and a confused frown appeared, a look, I was sure, that matched my own. I continued to focus on Claudia, apparently content although she was now about a foot lower than everyone else at the table. She began spreading the napkin but stopped when she realized she didn’t have any place to put it given her lack of a lap. Claudia tossed the napkin next to her plate and leaned forward with both elbows on the table. She watched the movement of the various dishes and maintained a reverent pose as she waited for them to make their way around the table.

  “We usually just say grace,” Josie deadpanned. “But whatever floats your boat.”

  “What?” Claudia said.

  “Nothing.”

  “Holy crap,” Paulie whispered. He speared a tomato wedge and did his best not to stare at the agent as he slowly chewed his food.

  “I know,” my mother whispered as she cast a furtive glance down the table at the agent who continued to closely monitor the movement of the dishes. “You don’t think she’s armed, do you, darling?”

  “Now there’s a cheery thought, Mom,” I said, catching Josie’s eye and giving her the slightest of shrugs. “I doubt she’s packing, but just in case, I sure hope she likes the ziti.”