The Case of the Klutzy King Charles Page 5

  “I’m picking up on something,” he said softly. “Why on earth would a woman with your talents avoid doing work on eyes? There’s a bit more training required, but nothing that would tax your abilities.”

  “I just choose not to work on them,” she said, tight-lipped.

  “Hmmm,” Dr. Wallace said.

  “What’s your point, Doc?” Josie said with an edge to her voice.

  “I’m just wondering what happened,” he said softly.

  “Nothing happened,” Josie snapped.

  My mother and I flinched, glanced at Josie, then we locked eyes with each other and shrugged.

  “I’m sorry to upset you,” Dr. Wallace said, stroking the dog’s fur. “You know, I remember one time when I was in school way back when. I was assisting with a spaying, and I made a mistake that almost killed the dog. It took me a long time before I was able to trust myself to do that procedure.”

  “Who have you been talking to, Dr. Wallace?” Josie said, glaring at him.

  “I must admit that I’m very good friends with one of your former professors. Actually, I believe he’s now a Dean.”

  “Jim Gallagher,” Josie said, giving him a blank stare. “I haven’t talked to him in a while. How’s Jim doing?”

  “He’s good.”

  “And when you were checking up on me, he just happened to mention a little problem I had during my internship?”

  “We all make mistakes, Josie,” he said softly.

  “I blinded that dog in one eye,” Josie said, tearing up.

  “You were trying to save his eyesight,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

  “Well, I only got it half right, didn’t I?”

  “Jim said that you did a great job saving the other eye.”

  Josie shrugged and stared down at the floor.

  “Treating severe glaucoma in older dogs has a low probability of success. You know that. And you should feel proud of the fact that you were able to preserve eyesight in one eye. Managing to save it in both eyes, according to Jim, would have been a miracle.”

  “Well, it’s a little hard to save a dog’s eyesight when the person responsible for saving it manages to snip the optic nerve in half,” Josie said, unable to look up.

  I noticed several tears beginning to drop on the linoleum floor. I started to move toward Josie to console her, but my mother stopped me with a shake of her head.

  “You know, I could use a little help around the place from time to time,” Dr. Wallace said. “If you’re interested.”

  “You mean I can come in and assist you with some eye surgeries and get my confidence back?” Josie said, wiping her eyes with the back of her sleeve.

  “Perhaps,” he said, beaming at her.

  “I’ll think about it,” Josie said, exhaling loudly. “Are we done here?”

  “Yes, I believe we are,” Dr. Wallace said. “Just keep him away from your other dogs for a few days and let him get his rest. In a couple of days, his pupil should return to normal. But if it doesn’t, bring him back in and we’ll take another look.”

  Josie nodded, gently lifted the spaniel off the table and headed for the door.

  “It was nice meeting you,” she managed to mumble on her way out.

  “Thanks, Yuri,” my mother said, placing a hand on his arm. “We’ll keep a close watch on the little guy. Did her professor have anything else to say?”

  “Other than saying she was the best he’d ever seen, not that much,” he said, then laughed. “We spent most of the time complaining about our golf games.”

  My mother gave him a hug and peck on the cheek and headed for the exit. I said my goodbyes and followed her outside. Josie was sitting in the passenger seat of the jeep and nestling the King Charles in her arms.

  “Not a word about it, right?” my mother said as we approached our cars parked next to each other.

  “No. She’ll talk about it if and when she’s ready,” I said, giving her a quick hug.

  “That’s my girl,” she said, opening her car door. “Oh, I almost forgot to ask. How does the shelter look?”

  “Amazing,” I said, then decided to let her in on what was happening with Teresa. “But it appears that Teresa’s ex-husband might be stalking her.”

  “Really? That’s disgusting. Does Rocco know that?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “Then Teresa has nothing to worry about,” she said, giving me a smile as she climbed into the driver seat. “I’ll see you later this afternoon. Just drop the dog off on your way back from the restaurant. And by the way, if we don’t open presents soon, I’m going to start taking it very personally.”

  “And nobody wants that, right?” I said.

  “No, darling, you most certainly do not.”

  Chapter 8

  Josie kept to herself the entire time as we headed to the restaurant, and she stared out the window and stroked the King Charles’ head, silently processing the bad memory that had resurfaced. But it became clear, despite whatever place she’d gone inside her head, she hadn’t lost her touch, and by the time the short drive was over, the dog was sprawled across her lap as if in a trance.

  I found her lack of banter disconcerting, almost unrecognizable, but said nothing.

  I parked right in front of the freshly painted restaurant and hopped out of the jeep. I glanced up at the sign above the door and smiled at the gold C’s written in cursive script against a dark green background. The sign looked great set against the white exterior that was trimmed with the same green that was on the sign.

  “Two new signs for two new businesses in the same day,” I said, glancing at her. “That’s a first, huh?”

  Josie nodded but said nothing. She adjusted the dog in her arms. The King Charles was alert and taking in his surroundings.

  “I can’t wait to check out the final menu,” I said, rubbing the dog’s head. “Chef Claire said she has a couple of surprises on it just for us.”

  Again, I got a silent nod out of her.

  “I wonder if she’ll make us lunch. Are you hungry?”

  Josie shook her head.

  Stunned by what could have been a first, I was torn between slapping her cheek to snap her out of whatever funk she’d slipped into or calling the Guinness Book of World Records.

  “You’re not hungry?”

  She shook her head again and sighed loudly.

  “That’s probably a good thing. It couldn’t hurt you to miss a meal or two.”

  She flinched, but recovered and focused on the dog.

  “Okay, so you’re going to play it that way, huh?” I said. “Then I’m just going to stand here and ask you a bunch of questions.”

  She glared at me.

  “Are you sick?”

  No reaction.

  “Headache? Allergies? Constipated?” I said, raising an eyebrow. “Or maybe the opposite? You got tummy problems? Did something you ate last night disagree with you? Like maybe that half-gallon of ice cream.”

  “It wasn’t a half-gallon,” she whispered through clenched teeth.

  “What?”

  More silence.

  “Homesick?”

  Nothing.

  “Are you bored?”

  This time, I got a slow head shake out of her. Her eyes were narrowed, and I knew she was on a low boil and about to pop.

  “Yearning for male companionship?” I said, grinning.

  “You really are incredibly annoying.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “There’s my girl,” I said, offering my shoulder to her. “Go ahead. It’ll make you feel better. Ow!” I rubbed my shoulder and glared at her. “I was joking.”

  “You’re right,” she deadpanned. “I do feel better.”

  “So, I take it you’re done feeling sorry for yourself?”

  “Yeah, I’m done,” she said, nodding. “Sorry about that. That blast from the past just caught me by surprise.”

  “I know it did,” I said, rub
bing the dog’s head. “Look at him. Those eyes just kill me.”

  “Yeah, he’s gorgeous. And such a little lovebug.”

  “You were lying about not being hungry, right?”

  “I could eat.”

  “Then let’s go see what we can scrounge up in the kitchen,” I said, heading up the small set of steps.

  “Suzy?”

  “Yeah?” I said, glancing over my shoulder.

  “Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it,” I said, smiling at her. “If I wasn’t around to kick your butt every once in a while, you’d be impossible to live with.”

  “And for the record, it wasn’t a half-gallon.”

  “Of course, it wasn’t,” I deadpanned, heading for the door. “They’re on the metric system down here.”

  I held the door open for her, laughing the entire time, and she glared at me as she walked into the restaurant. All the windows were open in what I assumed was an attempt to remove the smell of fresh paint, and a cool breeze flowed through the dining room that dominated the space. Chef Claire and Rocco were behind the bar taking inventory, and they both looked up when they saw us.

  “The place looks great,” I said, looking around the dining room, now painted a light peach color. “What capacity did we end up with?”

  “Sixty in the dining room,” Chef Claire said. “And eight more people can eat at the bar.”

  “Big enough,” I said, nodding. I gave Rocco a hug and glanced around at the bar. “It looks fantastic. You been brushing up on how to make a Mudslide?”

  “I can make them in my sleep,” he said, laughing. “You guys want one?”

  “No, thanks,” I said. “I’m driving, and we need to get home and open presents or my mom is going to kill us. You ready to go, Chef Claire?”

  “Yeah, I think we’re done here,” she said. “But hang on a sec. I want you to meet Chef Finn.” She headed toward the kitchen and poked her head through the swinging door. Moments later, a short, squatty man somewhere in his forties wearing a white uniform and chef hat entered the dining room. He seemed distracted, but managed a smile and shook hands with us as Chef Claire handled the introductions.

  “It’s nice to finally meet you,” he said in an unmistakable Australian accent. “I’d like to stay and chat, but I’ve got a stack of fresh snapper and wahoo to clean and gut.”

  “Yuk,” I said, frowning.

  “That’s right,” Chef Finn said. “You must be the one who doesn’t eat fish, right?”

  “Guilty as charged,” I said, shrugging.

  “Well, I’m gonna change your mind about that,” he said, grinning at me. “I do a smoked wahoo you’d swear comes straight from a Thanksgiving turkey.”

  “I’ll take your word for it,” I said, grimacing.

  “I love fresh snapper,” Josie said, softly clapping her hands. “How are you preparing it?”

  “You must be the snacker,” Chef Finn said, giving Josie the once-over. “We’re doing it three ways.”

  Josie thought for a moment.

  “Well, you must be doing a baked snapper.”

  “We are. Whole fish. And baked on a bed of potatoes, carrots, and onions. A touch of garlic and a rosemary-thyme-paprika rub.”

  “Sounds amazing,” Josie said, nodding.

  “It serves two,” Chef Finn said.

  “Don’t bet on it,” Chef Claire said, laughing.

  “Funny,” Josie said, then refocused. “Sauteed?”

  “Yup. In garlic butter and lemon. Served with a side of saffron rice with sultanas and a chilled cucumber and onion salad. Chef Claire and I put a lot of thought into that one.”

  “Simple but elegant,” Chef Claire said, beaming at her colleague.

  “Perfect,” Josie said. “Let’s see…one more. Dare I hope to dream that it might be deep-fried?”

  “You’re good,” he said, laughing. “Caribbean-style fish and chips. We’re offering it on the main menu, but we expect to move a ton of it on the takeout side of the house. What do you think?”

  “I think I love you,” Josie said, apparently fully recovered from her earlier bout of depression.

  Chef Finn playfully waved her away then said his goodbyes and headed back into the kitchen. Chef Claire and Josie, carrying the King Charles, headed outside. I remained behind to talk with Rocco.

  “What’s up?” he said, sitting down on one of the barstools.

  “Teresa’s ex-husband was sitting outside the shelter earlier. He had binoculars on Josie and me when we got there.”

  “Did he say anything?” Rocco said, his eyes narrowing.

  “No, we headed his way, but he drove off before we could get close.”

  “I guess the guy doesn’t know the meaning of get lost,” he said, cracking his knuckles.

  I assumed it was a holdover from his previous line of work. If it was, it was a good choice. It certainly got my attention.

  “What are you going to do?” I said.

  “It looks like I’m going to have to make my point a bit more forcefully,” he said as casually as he might sound ordering a sandwich.

  “Do you think he’s dangerous?” I said, studying him closely.

  “Only to himself,” he said, standing up. “Don’t worry about him, Suzy. I’ll handle this.”

  “You’re not going to hurt him are you?”

  “That’s completely up to him.”

  “Please don’t do anything crazy, Rocco,” I said.

  “You mean, like kill him?” he said, grinning at me.

  “Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of a punch in the nose, but, yeah, let’s go with the killing thing.”

  Rocco laughed.

  “Seriously, Rocco. You don’t want any issues with the cops down here. I know your prior record is ancient history, but it could come back to haunt you in a hurry if you assault one of the locals. Please be careful.”

  “The guy’s a total loser, Suzy,” Rocco said. “He’s completely ignored those two beautiful girls for years. And now he’s stalking Teresa.”

  “Yes, I know he is,” I said. “But let’s see if we can just strongly suggest he takes a hike, okay?”

  “I’ll do my best,” he said. “But like I said, that’s going to be his call.”

  “Okay, point taken,” I said, getting to my feet. “You and Teresa seem really happy.”

  “We’re unbelievably happy. In fact, I need to talk with you guys about me staying down here year-round.”

  “Really?” I said, surprised.

  “You’ll need someone to manage this place when you guys aren’t around, right?”

  “We will,” I said, nodding. “But we’d sure miss you if you weren’t in Clay Bay.”

  “Not as much as I’d miss her and the kids,” he said softly.

  “Yeah, I get that,” I said, nodding. “You’re a lucky man, Rocco.”

  “Luck has nothing to do with it. Actually, I’m blessed.”

  “Blessed are the meek?” I said, grinning.

  “First time I’ve ever been called that,” he said, laughing. “And I sure don’t want to inherit the earth.”

  “Just your own little slice of heaven, right?”

  “Exactly.”

  “And now that you found it, you’ll do everything necessary to preserve and protect it.”

  “Nothing gets past you.”

  Chapter 9

  Surrounded by seven dogs, we finally got around to opening presents after dinner. Fortunately, our mutual pledge not to go overboard on gifts to each other held, but we all failed miserably when it came to the dogs. I won’t bother to list the multitude and wide variety of presents our dogs received. Let’s just say that Santa was very good to all of them and leave it at that. We were even able to redirect a few gifts to the King Charles so he wouldn’t feel left out. He spent the entire time on my mother’s lap holding one of the toys he’d gotten in his mouth. His eye had continued to improve, and we were happy to see that his balance seemed better
and he was no longer bumping into every object he crossed paths with. But he did manage to get one of my mother’s oven mitts stuck on his head. We’re still not sure how he managed to pull that one off.

  “What are we going to do about this guy?” my mother said, stroking the King Charles’ head.

  “I called the hospital this afternoon and got the address the woman gave them before she was discharged,” I said as I watched Chloe and Captain try to decide which of the two identical toys each one wanted.

  “Is it a local address?” Josie said, laughing as Chloe tugged on one of Captain’s ears until he dropped the toy he was playing keep away with.

  “Yeah. It’s somewhere off South Sound Road,” I said, shaking my head at my Aussie as she terrorized Captain, who was over twice her size. “Geez, Chloe, take it easy. You’re lucky he’s easygoing. I thought I’d swing by the address in the morning and check it out.”

  “Don’t forget to ask about the dog’s name,” Josie said. “Pretty soon the little guy is going to start thinking his name is Who’s a good boy.”

  “Will do,” I said, nodding. “You want to come along?”

  “No, I thought I’d do a few projects around the house in the morning. Then I’m going to hang out by the pool and try to catch up on some email. I’m way behind.”

  “I’d go, but I need to be at the restaurant all day,” Chef Claire said. “Opening night.”

  “What time should we be there?” my mother said.

  “Seven would be good,” Chef Claire said. “We’ll have your table ready to go.”

  “Who’s going to be at dinner with us?” I said to my mother.

  “Let’s see,” she said, gently stroking the King Charles’ head. “The three of us, of course. And Gerald will be there with his new girlfriend.”

  “What does she do?” Josie said.

  “According to Gerald, not as much as he would like,” my mother said, giving us a coy smile.

  “Poor Gerald,” I said, shaking my head.

  “But I think she’s in finance. Maybe a banker.”

  “Now there’s a shock,” I said, shaking my head. “Every other person I meet down here seems to work in finance.”

  “Well, darling, one has to go where the money is,” my mother deadpanned. “Get it?”