Three Dog Island Read online

  “That should not be a problem.”

  “It wouldn’t be if we didn’t need transcripts.”

  “Oh, aye. Not to worry. In fact, it should be a piece of cake, Jenny luv, a piece of cake.”

  His confidence was endearing. And it meant one thing. Charlie knew someone who ran a home schooling program, and I had no doubt that it was a sweet older woman who had a crush on him.

  “Before we call in the others, I have to tell you, Charlie, I do have a bone to pick with you.” I chuckled as I noticed Rocky’s chew bone lying in the corner.

  “Uh oh, what have I done now?”

  “It’s more what you didn’t do. You could have given me earlier warning of your arrival. Clearly, you knew about this trip well ahead of time.”

  “But I never do, Jenny luv. What’s different this time?”

  “What’s different is that MacGregor is with you!” I stammered, not something I did often.

  Charlie’s impish grin crossed his face and I knew I had just given him ammunition to tease me. Then he chuckled and said, “That was the point.”

  By the time dinner was served, Josh was back to being cautiously relaxed, as he’d been before Charlie and MacGregor had arrived. The threesome had become fast friends. Once he was safe and out of hiding, I could see Charlie inviting him to play with his band.

  It was fortunate that my wee cottage had four bedrooms. All the rooms were small but comfortable. Charlie took Aunt Winnie’s old room, and MacGregor took the guest room across the hall from me. We said our good-nights early. I was exhausted, and Charlie and MacGregor needed as much rest as they could get before their Sunday game.

  I may have been early to bed but not soon to sleep. My mind was definitely playing Hamlet, analyzing and dissecting all the information I had. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. It was becoming clear that it was time to get busy and do some serious detective work and find some answers to my many questions. Why had Josh’s mother sent him away? What were his step father and his cop friend up to? Who had dumped the dogs overboard and why? What was going on in the strange compound on Aurora Island? And who had tampered with Jasper’s sculpture and how had it gone unnoticed until it had been replaced?

  This was too much for one person to deal with. But I couldn’t ask Charlie for more help than I’d asked him for. His insurance fraud case was proving to be more of a challenge than he had expected. But I needed someone. I smiled against my down pillow. What was it Charlie had said about Josh? “I do believe I’ve got him thinking like a detective. At the end, he was answering my questions before I asked them.”

  I didn’t want to take the wind out of Charlie’s sails but the truth was, Josh was a natural. He had already come up with a very plausible theory that someone had damaged Jasper’s sculpture, an excellent explanation for why someone would replace it. We could make it one of his home schooling classes. Investigative Science.

  And there was always Sasha who could be of great assistance with the art mystery, particularly since she was a member of the co-op and had an excuse to hang out and ask questions. She was always hinting about the appeal that spying held for her.

  I felt my head sink more deeply into my pillow. I didn’t know if I was feeling some relief or if I was trying to bury myself there. After all, despite the help I hoped to receive, the burden still was on me to find the answers to my many questions. But I did hear my breathing slow slightly in the direction of calm.

  Now, if MacGregor weren’t sound asleep directly across the hall from me, I might have a hope of getting some sleep.

  Chapter 10

  I pried my eyes open when Charlie tapped on my bedroom door at 8:00 o’clock. I had slept only a few hours.

  “Are you awake, luv? We’ll need to be leaving soon. Malcolm is making coffee and we’ve popped some of your lovely raspberry scones into the oven to warm.”

  I didn’t know if he was attempting to lure me with scones and fresh coffee or with MacGregor. Either one would suffice.

  “I’ll be down in a minute.” I tossed back my covers and climbed into my jeans and turtleneck. I took a moment to splash water on my face and jam a toothbrush into my gums here and there. My hair took a bit longer. As boring as it was, I still cared how it looked way too much.

  After the four of us—actually five because Rocky took advantage of indulging in more than his usual share of crumbs—had enjoyed our breakfast, the men got ready to go into town to find a boat and fishing equipment. The subject remained unspoken but we were all wishing Josh could have joined them.

  Driving my own car, I led the way into town. I had my own research to do. I pulled over at Burt’s rental shop and took Charlie and MacGregor in to meet him.

  “Hello, Jenny, nice to see you again.”

  “Hello, Burt. I’d like you to meet my friend, Malcolm MacGregor, and this is Charlie McNair, my father.”

  Burt shook MacGregor’s hand and reached for Charlie’s. “Haven’t we met before?”

  “Aye, that we have,” Charlie said. “I was assisting in the investigation of the body buried in Jenny’s garden.”

  “Oh, yes, of course. I didn’t realize you were her father.”

  I smiled innocently. For good reason, no one had known at that time.

  “So, what can I help you with today?”

  “We’d like to rent a boat,” MacGregor said. “For a couple days.”

  “A couple days?” I asked.

  “Aye, we’ll dock the boat at Waterloo Island so we’ll be there for the game first thing in the morning,” he answered, searching my eyes. What was he looking for? If it was disappointment, he was sure to find it. Apparently they weren’t keen on my coming to the game. After all, they had not invited me. It could have been embarrassment. They had just started playing soccer again after several years. I had witnessed a game in Seattle recently. They probably did not want to risk the humiliation of being massacred a second time in front of me. Or possibly they were displaying their sensitivity. They knew Josh would not be able to come.

  “Can you accommodate us?” Charlie asked.

  Burt nodded. “Happy to. Any business is good these days.”

  I left them in Burt’s hands, and accepted a hug from both of them, but only after a promise to call me as soon as they’d arrived safely on Waterloo Island and again after the soccer match to assure me that they had survived it.

  I headed for the art co-op. Army was on duty, covering for Ramona.

  I ran through the same questions I had asked Ramona and Alice. He walked over to the sculpture and made similar observations. “Whoever did this knows Jasper’s work well. The texture is so similar. It’s hard to believe it’s not Jasper’s.”

  “Do you believe it?” I asked.

  Army ran his hand through his thick curly hair, his face looking even rounder. I wondered if it was his topsy-turvy curls that made it appear that way or if he’d added a few pounds recently. Navy was trying to get him to lose weight so I doubted that was the case.

  “If anyone knows his own work, it’s Jasper. If he says this piece isn’t his, it isn’t.”

  “But why would—?”

  “Makes no sense.”

  “All I can come up with is that someone damaged it and was too scared to tell him so they had it duplicated from pictures of the stone sculpture and his sketches.”

  “But surely one of us would have noticed that the piece was missing while they duplicated it, Jenny.”

  “I know, but I can’t come up with any other explanation. You never noticed it missing obviously.”

  “And I’m reasonably observant. Hold on a minute. Gotta get the door.”

  Army rushed over to hold the door open for someone to bring in a pot. If I wasn’t mistaken, it was one of Dante’s, although it was larger than any I’d seen. Two young men wedged it and their bodies through the door. One was dark-haired and short, the other was a tall and skinny redhead.

  “That’s amazing!” I said after they diligently positione
d it just the way an artist would. “Whose work is it?”

  “My dad’s, Angelo Dante,” the shorter one said. “I’m Emilio Dante.” There was definite pride in his voice.

  “It’s very nice to meet you. I’m Jenny McNair. Your father has been busy. This is beautiful. I’m so tired of seeing those plastic pots they’re selling in stores these days.”

  Emilio said, “My dad’s sentiments exactly.”

  “Well, other people must appreciate his work too. You just brought some in the other day, didn’t you? I spotted some new ones.”

  Emilio nodded. “He’s doing well.”

  “That one didn’t sell?” I asked as Emilio and his friend lifted one of the pots from the display.

  “We sold it to someone on Gael Island. I have to deliver it,” he said as they carried it to the door.

  “Makes more sense,” I said. “I couldn’t imagine it not selling.”

  “Dante’s one of our best sellers,” Army said after they left. “I wish we all did as well as he does.”

  “Another question, Army. I notice there aren’t many ceramic artists who have their work in the gallery.”

  “Nope, just Dante, Jasper, me, and Navy when she works with clay—she’s in one of her painting phases though. And now you!”

  I smiled. It felt good to have my work exhibited in a gallery. In the past I’d had a hard time convincing my husband that it was perfectly normal and not egotistical to have it in view of visitors to our home. Not fair. He always was willing to let me display my work. But somehow he always managed to convey to me that he preferred I didn’t.

  “Are there any other potters or ceramic sculptors on the island who aren’t members of the co-op?” I figured Army would know since he was the one who brought clay over from Seattle and sold it. And he owned two kilns and ran a teaching studio.

  “Not really. Some of the islanders come in for clay just to play around with, but no one does any serious work. I can’t think of any of my students who are that serious either. They just use it as an outlet for stress.”

  “Well, if you think of anyone who’s a more serious ceramic artist, especially one highly skilled at hand-building, could you let me know?”

  “Of course, Jenny.”

  “You don’t happen to remember if anyone has bought some clay in the past couple weeks, do you?”

  “No, just the ones I mentioned to you the other day. But I’ll ask Navy in case she sold some.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  By the time I got home, Josh had gone through the list of boat owners on Gael Island that I’d gotten from Sadie Applebaum. He had run a search on each and every one of them. He knew how long they’d owned their boats and for what purpose. After reviewing his notes, I came to a very simple conclusion. It was pointless to pursue this.

  “I think you’ve just saved me from a lot of leg work.”

  His smile was slightly self-conscious. “What do you mean?”

  “I think we’ve been barking up the wrong tree.” Did I have dogs on the mind lately or what? “I think we can find a more productive way to spend our time.”

  “How?”

  “No idea,” I admitted.

  My home phone rang and I hurried over to pick it up.

  “Your daughter?” Josh had gotten used to my expecting Holly’s calls. However, I knew this wasn’t Holly. I hadn’t been very accurate with my guesses lately, but I knew this one had to do with Josh and that it was important.

  I was right. Charlie had already worked his magic, and on a Saturday! Within a half hour, I had Josh, under an alias—we would change that once it was safe to do so—registered with a home schooling program and signed up for algebra, English literature, physics—which he chose because of MacGregor—European history, and a class of our own creation, Investigative Science. Charlie’s friend also suggested he consider a language which would help him get into college if he so elected. However, since I had forgotten all the French and Spanish I had ever studied, he would have to rely on tapes. I told her that the only other language I knew a little about was sign language—thanks to a case I had worked on for Charlie a couple years back. Apparently they did have the course work for that. I brought out my old program to show Josh, but he elected to brave the Spanish tapes on his own.

  He would also get credit for the hours he spent playing his saxophone. If he opted to spend time on the pottery wheel, he could get credit for that as well. Now we just had to figure out how to get him some physical education. Not only was it a requirement, but he would go stir crazy if he didn’t get out of the cottage if only for a half hour a day.

  “We could spread rumors that your nephew is staying with you,” he offered. “That way I can go out and into town even.”

  “Would you feel safe?”

  He shook his head. “Probably not. Maybe I should just go for runs on your property.”

  “You could do that. If you do it after the newspaper is delivered and before the mail. And not before ten o’clock.” Then I remembered. Frankie sometimes rode her horse across my land.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “A friend of mine rides her horse here sometimes.”

  “You couldn’t tell her?”

  “Her boyfriend is the local sheriff.”

  “This is getting complicated. I can figure out something inside—maybe just do an aerobic workout and lift weights. Do you have any?”

  “No, but maybe we can sculpt you some. Or better yet, borrow some from my son. And I can find out Frankie’s schedule so some days you should be able to go for a run.”

  “That would be great.”

  “And just to get you outside and breathing fresh air, you can always sit in the rose garden. It’s very private. There’s a stone wall around most of it and trees completely surround it.” I smiled at the image of my aunt and her love spending hours together in that very garden. “You’d hear anyone drive up or ride up on a horse, or Rocky would, and you could sneak in the back door.”

  “Thanks, Jenny. I really owe you. Big time.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll get you back. I’m planning to put you to work on these cases we seem to have inherited.”

  His smile was the deepest I’d seen. He belonged. He had a purpose. And he was safe. At least for now.

  “In fact, there’s no time like the present,” I told him, dialing Sasha’s home phone.

  Five minutes later, there was a gentle tap on the door. Even though Josh knew to expect Sasha, his stance was vigilant. I peeked around the blind before opening the door. Whistler ran in ahead of Sasha, heading straight for Rocky. After the two had exchanged sufficient sniffs and nuzzles, Whistler put his head on Josh’s knee, obviously as at home there as Rocky was.

  Sasha greeted Josh and Rocky before sitting down to tea and the orange spice muffins she had brought with her. “About time you decided you needed my help with one of your cases, Jenny.”

  I poured myself a cup of tea and joined her on the couch. Josh was munching on his muffin that Whistler was hoping to convince him to share. I noticed he had a notebook and pen in hand as well. He was taking his Investigative Science class seriously.

  “Josh and I have come to the conclusion that it’s pointless to keep trying to find the dogs’ owners—or the people who dumped them.”

  “So you think they don’t belong to the person who dumped them?”

  “Doubtful. If for some reason they couldn’t keep them any longer, they could have dropped them at a shelter. We were researching boat owners because Josh heard a boat go past the island and a while later the three dogs appeared. We assume they were dumped overboard.”

  “Or fell,” Sasha offered.

  “It’s unlikely that all three would fall at the same time.” I turned to Josh. I wanted him to feel part of this conversation.

  “I remember hearing the boat accelerate really fast and then a few seconds later the engine was cut. Then suddenly it accelerated and kept going.”

  “Did you see
it?” Sasha asked.

  “No, I was inside the tent. I was afraid to come out. Even though it was pretty protected where my tent was set up, I was afraid someone might spot me. Anyway, I figure if the dogs had fallen overboard on the acceleration and it was an accident, they would have turned around and gone back for them.”

  “Good point,” Sasha said.

  I looked at him proudly. “He’s starting to think like a detective.”

  “Charlie’s grilling,” he said.

  I laughed. “So, after going over the list of boat owners with Pen, and after Josh did some research, it looks as if most of them are fishermen. They’ve all been around for years and owned their boats for as long. I also talked to Burt and got the names of people who rented boats recently.”

  “Anyone suspicious?”

  “Not really. There were just two. Henry Yates, but he’s a local and has lived here most of his life. In his seventies. And the other one was Jeff Conrad.”

  “My red-headed Jeff?” Sasha said. “Oh yeah, he and his buddies go out fishing every couple weeks.”

  That confirmed what Burt had told me. “Do you know that for a fact?”

  Sasha nodded. “Remember that salmon I cooked for us a couple weeks back? Jeff caught it. He’s sweet, really. Repaired a leak I had in my roof last winter. Didn’t charge me a penny.”

  “Do I detect a crush perhaps?”

  It was a little hard to detect against her flaming red hair, but there was definitely signs of a blush. “Possibly on his part. Definitely not on mine. Can you imagine what our children would look like?” She gasped in horror. “Besides, he’s way too young for me. But I fear he thinks I’m a kindred spirit with my red hair and freckles and all. Anyone else?” she attempted to guide the conversation away from herself.

  “Nope. And we realized the dogs could be from anywhere—any of the islands, or Seattle, Anacortes, anywhere. It’s a shot in the dark at best, so other than checking the internet for any reports of missing dogs, we’re not going to keep looking.”

  “Probably for the best,” Sasha said.