The Case of the Itinerant Ibizan Read online

  I started scrolling through the selection of movies. Then I paused and looked over at her.

  “You know what bothers me the most?”

  “Knowing you, it’s probably the idea that there’s a bunch of spirits on the other side who can see you naked.”

  “Lucky guess,” I said, embarrassed. “I actually tried covering myself up when I took a shower today.”

  “That must make it a bit hard to get at all the nooks and crannies,” she deadpanned. Then she had a thought and frowned. “Suzy, please tell me you aren’t going to start showering in your bathing suit.”

  “I have to admit that the thought did cross my mind.”

  “We really need to find you a boyfriend,” she said, shaking her head.

  We both turned around when we heard the kitchen door open. Al and Dente woke up immediately and scrambled to the door. Chef Claire entered the living room soon after with both Goldens on her heels wagging their tails.

  “Hey,” Chef Claire said. “I put your dinner in the fridge, Suzy. And I brought some soup for you, Josie. I heard you weren’t feeling well. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine,” she said. “Thanks for doing that.”

  “What are you guys up to?”

  “We were just getting ready to watch a movie,” I said.

  “Great. Let me grab a quick shower, and I’ll join you.”

  “Don’t be afraid to show them what you’ve got, girl,” Josie said, glancing over at me.

  “What?”

  “Shut it,” I said to Josie, then tossed the remote to Chef Claire. “Find us something good. I think I’m in the mood for a classic.”

  “Okay,” Chef Claire said as she started scrolling through the movie menu. “Here’s a good one. From Here to Eternity. We can watch Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr make out on the beach.”

  “No,” I said. “Good movie. But I don’t like the title.”

  “Me either,” Josie said.

  “Okay,” Chef Claire said, glancing back and forth at her two weird roommates. “How about Blade Runner?”

  “Replicants?” I said, frowning. “No, too close for comfort.”

  “I agree.”

  “What?” Chef Claire said, thoroughly confused. “Oh, here’s one of my favorites. Alien.”

  “No. Science fiction is out of the question.”

  “Absolutely. No science fiction.”

  “Okay, no sci-fi,” Chef Claire said, as she continued to scroll through the list. “How about romance? You guys in the mood for melancholy?”

  “I might be a bit overloaded with that at the moment,” Josie said.

  “No, hang on. That could work,” I said. “It might be just what we need. If we watch somebody with bigger problems than ours, it might just be the ticket.”

  “Maybe you’re right.”

  “How about Ghost?” Chef Claire said.

  “Forget it,” I said, shaking my head.

  “Not gonna happen,” Josie said.

  “Heaven Can Wait?”

  “No,” Josie and I said in unison.

  “Then why don’t one of you guys pick the movie?” Chef Claire said.

  “No, keep going. We’ll find something,” Josie said.

  “Maybe a comedy,” I said.

  “Yeah. Good idea,” Josie said, nodding. “I could use a good laugh.”

  “Okay, classic comedy,” Chef Claire said, scrolling. “Let’s see what we’ve got. Here we go. Ghostbusters.”

  Josie and I looked at each other and nodded.

  “Who you gonna call?”

  “Perfect.”

  Chapter 8

  I was in the middle of saying hello to all the dogs at the Inn when Josie stuck her head through the door that led into the reception area. Her mood, while still subdued, was better this morning, and she’d managed to wolf down all of her breakfast and half of mine. As such, I was confident she was going to survive yesterday’s ordeal.

  “What’s up?” I said, stepping out of the basset hound’s condo and giving her one last head scratch before I closed the door.

  “Our friend is back,” she said, nodding for me to follow her.

  I quickly washed my hands and headed to the reception area where I spotted Josie staring out the window. I glanced outside and saw the Ibizan sitting on the dock staring back at us.

  “What does he have in his mouth?” I said.

  “I can’t tell,” Josie said. “Hey, Sammy. Could you please grab my binoculars? I think they’re in the cabinet behind the desk.”

  Sammy brought them over and handed them to Josie. He glanced out the window and nodded.

  “Yup. That’s definitely the breed. They’re my uncle’s favorite dog.”

  “Okay, I guess that answers one of my questions,” Josie said, handing me the binoculars.

  I peered through the lens and focused on the object in the dog’s mouth. I handed them to Sammy and looked at Josie.

  “That’s the one,” I said.

  “Hey, it’s a CornBelters hat,” Sammy said, frowning as he glanced back and forth at us. “You don’t think my uncle is in town, do you?”

  “I think it’s definitely a possibility,” I said. “But why the heck does the dog have the hat in his mouth?”

  “Good question,” Josie said. “And I have another one. Why does he keep coming back here?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe we should try thinking like a dog.”

  “Knock yourself out,” Josie said, laughing. “But try to stay away from the toilet.”

  “Shut it,” I said. “And for the record, that’s disgusting.”

  “That’s what I keep trying to tell Captain.”

  “Maybe he’s seen all the dogs out in the play area,” Sammy said as he watched the dog sitting calmly on the dock.

  “That could be it,” I said.

  “Just think about all the dogs we’ve got. The smells must be overpowering,” Sammy said.

  “Uh-oh,” I said, frowning.

  “Uh-oh, what?” Sammy said.

  Josie frowned and looked over at me.

  “Uh-oh, what?” Sammy repeated.

  “The smell. And the dog has the hat. Let me see those again.” I said, holding them up to my eyes. “The hat is filthy.” I lowered the binoculars and looked at her.

  “Dirt?” Josie said.

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re saying the dog might have dug the hat up?” Sammy said. “That it was buried?”

  “It’s a possibility,” I said. “But don’t read too much into that, Sammy. The dog might have just found it on the ground.”

  “My uncle never took his hat off. And what are the odds there are two people walking around wearing a CornBelters cap?”

  “They’re pretty low,” I said, shrugging. “It’s not like we’re talking about the Yankees here.”

  “So, what are we going to do?” Josie said. “There’s no way we’re going to be able to catch him.”

  “Maybe he wants us to follow him,” I said.

  Josie frowned but remained silent as I continued to try and talk my way into a plan.

  “Yesterday morning, after he jumped over me on the dock, he raced across the lawn and then he made a right.”

  “Did you see where he ended up?” Sammy said.

  “No, it’s was too dark. But he definitely turned right.”

  “Well, the only thing on that side once you get past the play area are the woods,” Josie said.

  “We might as well check it out,” I said, shrugging. “I can’t think of anything else to do at the moment.”

  “You don’t have a plan?” Josie said.

  “Does it sound like I have a plan?” I snapped.

  “There’s no need to get snarky, Snoopmeister,” Josie said. “Geez, I was just asking the question.”

  “Sorry,” I said. “I think we should split up.”

  “Good idea,” Josie deadpanned. “We can do more damage that way.”

  “Ghost
busters, right?” Sammy said, laughing.

  “Yeah, we watched it last night,” Josie said.

  “Jill and I watched it the other night. It holds up pretty good,” Sammy said, nodding.

  “Yeah, it does,” Josie said. “I was hoping to pick up a few pointers, but I got nothing.”

  “What?” Sammy said.

  “Nothing.”

  “Will you forget about the movie?” I said, still agitated. “How about you two position yourself on the far end of the play area while I head down to the dock? I’ll take a leash with me. Maybe he’ll be calmer today and let me bring him up to the Inn. But if he heads for the woods, try to follow him with the binoculars. If we get a good idea which direction he goes in, maybe we can follow his trail.”

  “Well, it’s not the Battle of Trafalgar,” Sammy said, shrugging. “But I guess it’s better than nothing.”

  We both stared at him.

  “The Battle of Trafalgar?” Sammy said. “One of the greatest battle plans ever executed. I’ve been reading a lot of military history lately. Never mind. I’ll go grab some stuff we might need, and I’ll meet you in the play area.”

  We watched him head off, both of us thoroughly confused.

  “He’s reading military history now?” Josie said. “This is the same kid who, on his first day, thought the jar of dog biscuits on the reception counter were cookies?”

  “Yeah, he’s on a real self-improvement kick, isn’t he?” I said. “Good for him. And we’ll need to go easy on him. If we find a body buried in the woods, and it turns out to be his uncle, things are going to get really strange around here.”

  “Oh, you mean there might be more to come? I can’t wait,” Josie said, reaching into the pocket of her scrubs to retrieve her phone. She glanced down at the number. “It’s Summerman. The fourth time he’s called this morning.”

  “Aren’t you going to answer it?” I said.

  “Not a chance,” she said.

  “You’re punishing him?”

  “No, I’m not punishing him. This situation isn’t his fault. I’m just avoiding him until I’m ready to talk.”

  “Tomato, tomahto.”

  “Yeah, like I’m going to take relationship advice from someone who’s about to start showering fully clothed.”

  I made a face at her and headed for the front door.

  “Let’s go catch a dog,” I said.

  Chapter 9

  I headed for the dock, paused halfway down the lawn to turn around and check if Josie and Sammy were in position, then gave them a quick wave and focused on the dog that was sitting on his haunches and staring back at me. I stepped onto the dock and paused again. The dog appeared calm but didn’t take his eyes off me. The baseball hat was laying on the dock right in front of the dog, and he was guarding it like he would his favorite toy. I took a step forward as I reached into my pocket for one of the treats I’d brought along. Judging from the way he leaned forward and stared at it, I thought I’d hit the motherlode. This approach, used to encourage and reward the behavior you wanted to see, was an oldie but a goodie, and we used it around the Inn on a daily basis.

  When in doubt, offer them food.

  And it always worked like a charm whenever I used it on Josie.

  The dog took a step toward me, sniffed the air, and stared at the treat I was holding. I inched closer, and the dog snatched the hat off the dock and slowly began walking toward me. He kept coming using a slow, steady walk that developed into a trot. Then I realized that the dog wasn’t heading my way to say hello or have a snack. Rather, he was using the long dock like an airplane uses a runway to build up the necessary speed for takeoff. The dog accelerated, and I froze in my tracks and, once again, watched the dog sail effortlessly over me.

  I turned around to watch him race across the lawn, then he turned right, headed around the outside of the play area fence and disappeared from sight. I started to jog across the lawn, tried to ignore my shortness of breath, then stopped when I got a stitch under my ribcage and couldn’t go any further. I bent at the knees gasping for air then continued across the grass at a speed that, if you were generous, might possibly be classified as a leisurely stroll. Eventually, I made it to the play area. I draped an arm across the top rail of the fence, breathing heavily.

  “Let me guess,” Josie said, laughing. “You’re about to tell me that you really need to get to the gym.”

  “Shut it,” I said, sucking air into my lungs. “How on earth did I get this far out of shape?”

  “Cookies and couches,” she said, then cocked her head. “Hey, that would be a great title for a country song. What rhymes with couch, Sammy?”

  “Ouch.”

  “That works. She’s definitely in pain.”

  “Slouch.”

  “Without a doubt,” Josie said, laughing.

  “Very…funny,” I said, my chest heaving.

  “Grouch.”

  “It won’t be long now.”

  “Shut it,” I snapped, glancing around. “Did you see the dog?”

  “Only for a second,” Sammy said. “That guy can run. We’ve got a pretty good idea of the direction, but once he got into those woods who knows where he went.”

  “I really don’t feel like spending the rest of the day wandering around in the trees,” Josie said.

  “Me either,” I said, then spotted the baseball cap on the ground near the fence. “Hey, he dropped the hat.” I bent over to pick it up, felt my stitch return and groaned. I grabbed the hat, grimaced as I stood upright, and rubbed my side.

  “Pitiful,” Josie deadpanned as she watched me continue to struggle with my breathing. “Can I get you something? Water? A towel to wipe off the sweat? Oxygen tank?”

  “You’re…really…not…funny.”

  “Dis…a…gree.”

  Sammy laughed as he stared out at the edge of the thick woods that ran for several acres off the back of our property.

  “What do you want to do?” he said. “We’d need Smokey the Bear to help us track him down in there.”

  “Yeah,” Josie said. “Or a tour guide.”

  A light bulb went on, and I glanced at the Inn.

  “Duh,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief that we’d missed it.

  “I smell burning neurons,” Josie said. “What is it?”

  “We’ve got our own tour guide,” I said.

  “What?”

  “Bailey,” I said. “And we’ve got the hat.”

  “Of course,” Josie said, nodding. “We’ve got a bloodhound. The dog has been carrying the hat around in his mouth for at least a day. And since the guy was always wearing it, Bailey shouldn’t have any problems following the scent.”

  “Piece of cake,” I said.

  “You’re such a tease.”

  “Sammy, would you mind heading down to the Inn and getting Bailey?”

  “No problem. Should I put him on a lead?”

  “No, but you better bring one along,” I said. “And bring a towel and a couple bottles of water, please.”

  “Oxygen tank?” he said, grinning at Josie.

  “Shut it.”

  We watched him jog toward the Inn, and I wiped my brow with my sleeve. Then I heard Josie’s phone buzz again. She checked the number, shook her head, then slid the phone back into her pocket.

  “Persistent,” I said. “You gotta give him that.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Fair enough,” I said. “Here comes your friend.”

  Bailey, the bloodhound we’d rescued during our trip to the Caymans, had spotted Josie and was racing across the play area toward her. Josie opened the gate and stood waiting with a huge smile on her face. To say the bloodhound had bonded with her was like saying there was a lot of water in the St. Lawrence. And while Bailey loved being around people and was very friendly to everyone, he absolutely adored Josie. He arrived in a hurry and put his front paws on her shoulders briefly knocking her off balance.

  I hande
d the baseball hat to Josie, and she held it in front of the bloodhound’s nose. He immediately began sniffing the air like Josie and I did every time Chef Claire was making dinner. Josie continued to hold the hat close to his nose, and soon Bailey had picked up the scent on the ground and was pulling against the grip Josie had on his collar.

  “Okay, I think he’s got it,” Josie said. “Sammy, hand me the lead, please.”

  Josie attached the leash to the bloodhound’s collar, and Bailey quickly pulled it tight and almost ripped it out of her hand.

  “Bailey! Settle,” Josie commanded.

  The dog sat down in the grass and looked up sheepishly at Josie.

  “Good boy,” she cooed as she gave him a treat. “He’s still getting adjusted to having to listen to somebody. But he’s doing good. Aren’t you, Bailey?”

  The dog thumped his tail on the ground, then stood and made it clear he was ready to get the search started. Josie started walking with Bailey leading the way. Sammy and I followed behind.

  “Are you okay?” I said to him when I noticed the look of concern on his face.

  “Yeah, I think so,” he said, scuffing the grass with his foot. “But if it is my uncle, I’ve got a whole bunch of questions. He left Normal two or three years ago, and I don’t think anybody has heard a word from him. I know I haven’t. And why would he show up here?”

  “Maybe he was hoping to reconnect with you,” I said. “And maybe it’s not even him.”

  “You mean, a fan of the Normal CornBelters just happened to be passing through town with the same dog? You already said it was highly improbable that it isn’t him.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you, Sammy,” I said. “But based on recent experience, I wouldn’t rule out highly improbable just yet.”

  We reached the edge of the thick woods and were soon surrounded and dwarfed by the tall pines. The pine smell was overpowering at first, and I wondered if it might throw Bailey off the trail. But the dog continued weaving his way through the maze of trees with his head down and nose close to the ground. Then he veered left, and we did our best to keep up with him.

  “How are you holding up?” I said to Josie who continued to be pulled forward.

  “I think I snapped a shoulder tendon on that last turn,” she said, laughing as she glanced back at us. “This guy is strong.”