“We’ll each of us,” began the youngest one.
“Pony up that amount,” said the one in the middle.
“Oh, there’s no need for—” Bernie began.
“Shut up, Bernie,” Felicia said, and I’m afraid I was with her on that. “Wendell was—”
“Worth it,” they all said together. Out came their checkbooks, slap, slap, slap on the table.
What a great lunch! And no pony ever appeared! We were on a roll.
* * *
There were two fine parties, the first down in Mexico when we took Tildy home. Pepita made enough food to last the whole town for two days, and don’t forget the drinking part, although Bernie wanted to for about a week after that. Before the drinking really got going, we had a quiet little talk with Diego.
“I’ve decided to sell anyway,” Diego said.
“Not to a Swiss company?” said Bernie.
“Oh, no. It’s a group of investors from the Valley. One of them says he’s a friend of yours.”
“Malcolm?”
“That’s right. Is it true? He’s a friend?”
Bernie thought about that, then nodded.
“Glad to hear that,” Diego said. “He’s actually been a little … off-putting during the meetings, but if he’s a friend of yours I won’t worry.”
“Um,” said Bernie.
“I’m selling for two reasons,” Diego said. “First, these people want to continue making wine on the land and they’re keeping the name. Second, Jim’s heart is no longer in it, if it ever was. You can’t fake the passion, Bernie, and the wine is always the proof.”
They clinked glasses.
The second party was Suzie’s wedding, which happened after the monsoons, when things had cooled down and the air was clear. So many flowers, including a nice creamy one in Jacques’s lapel. Lots of folks made a big fuss over me and Bernie, which he seemed to tire of pretty fast, although I did not. Waiters came around with little trays. Suzie had arranged a special one just for me. Bacon wrapped in bacon! Can you believe it? But that was Suzie, really the best of the best. She and Jacques slipped gold rings on each other’s fingers, the gold glittering brightly even from where we were sitting, toward the back. Actually by ourselves in the very last row. Then Suzie raised her face, so beautifully, and she and Jacques kissed, not a long kiss but it sent out a wave I could feel.
We left shortly after, me and Bernie. When we got home, old man Heydrich was outside watering his lawn. He saw us coming and shut down his sprinklers. That was new.
“Hmph,” said Bernie.
We parked in our driveway. Bernie went inside for the tools. We got to work on our blue boat, Sea of Love, but had hardly begun before Florian Machado came walking up.
“Out on bail?” Bernie said.
“Yes, sir,” said Florian. “Just wanted to thank you, first thing. For, like, everything.”
“No problem,” Bernie said. “Any idea what Butchie did with Wendell’s phone and laptop?”
“Um,” said Florian. “He never had them. I woulda sold to him, but the window kind of closed on that plan, if you know what I’m sayin’.”
“I don’t,” Bernie said. “Did you take the damn things or not?”
“Oh, I took them, all right. No slip-ups there. But that’s as far as I got, on account of you.”
“On account of me?”
“Showing up how you did, a bit early in the day. I’m one of them night owls, by nature.”
Bernie gave Florian a long long look, maybe the longest look I’d ever seen him give anyone. Then he said, “Are you telling us Wendell’s phone and laptop are on the boat?”
“Far as I know,” said Florian.
“Get up here,” Bernie told him.
Florian climbed the ladder, went toward what we in boating circles call the bow. He stopped at the coiled, rusty anchor chain lying on top of a hatch cover, the hatch cover where I’d smelled fishiness on our first visit. Now the fishy smell was just about gone. Florian shoved the chain aside with his foot, raised the hatch cover, reached inside, and took out a paper bag.
“Fish sandwich I never got to eat.”
Bernie was not smiling at all. “Why did you tell us you’d sold them to Butchie?”
Florian shrugged his big, soft shoulders. “By then it was the story, you know. Kind of true, since it’s what I woulda done, namely unload the stuff to Butchie. So I stuck to it, in spite of all the browbeating.”
“Browbeating?” Bernie said.
“From my lawyer, Ms. Burr. A real piece of work. Like how she got herself bein’ my lawyer? Wheels within wheels, my man. Anyways, she wouldn’t believe me, kept browbeating, calling me a liar.”
“She told you she needed the phone and laptop for bargaining chips?” Bernie said.
“Same as you did,” said Florian.
Bernie didn’t answer.
“Hope all that had nothin’ to do with how Butchie ended up,” Florian said.
Bernie reached for a screwdriver, started unscrewing screws in a very rough sort of way, as though he didn’t like them. Florian watched him. Did he catch the hot look in Bernie’s eyes, almost on fire for a moment?
Maybe not. “Boat’s coming along pretty good,” he said.
“Uh-huh.”
“Tell you what—it’s yours.”
“Thanks,” said Bernie.
“That name—Sea of Love—was already on it,” Florian said. “Boat belonged to some hippie lady who took her around the world. I was gonna change it to Get Wasted but I guess you can call her whatever you want.”
“We’re keeping the name,” Bernie said.
“Beautiful,” said Florian. “Nice talkin’.”
He stepped over the side, started down the ladder, somehow forgetting that he still had the phone and the laptop. I reminded him in no uncertain terms.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Many thanks to Kristin Sevick for her wise and sensitive editing of this book, and to Linda Quinton for her support of Chet and Bernie.
Other Books in the Chet and Bernie Series
Dog on It
Thereby Hangs a Tail
To Fetch a Thief
The Dog Who Knew Too Much
A Fistful of Collars
The Sound and the Furry
Paw and Order
Scents and Sensibility
Heart of Barkness
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
SPENCER QUINN, is the pen name for Peter Abrahams, the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Chet and Bernie mystery series, as well as the #1 New York Times bestselling Boswer and Birdie series for middle-grade readers. He lives on Cape Cod with his wife, Diana—and dogs, Audrey and Pearl. You can sign up for email updates here.
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Twitter: @ChetTheDog
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Cha
pter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Acknowledgments
Other Books in the Chet and Bernie Series
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
OF MUTTS AND MEN
Copyright © 2020 by Pas de Deux
All rights reserved.
Cover photograph by Shaina Fishman
A Forge Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates
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Forge® is a registered trademark of Macmillan Publishing Group, LLC.
The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
ISBN 978-1-250-29769-3 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-250-75172-0 (ebook)
eISBN 9781250751720
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First Edition: 2020