Honey BBQ Murder: Book 10 in the Darling Deli Series Read online

  “Yes. All I need to do is bring the coolers and the suitcase out to the car and check out at the front desk,” she replied.

  “Here, give me your room key. I’ll grab the bags—you can start checking out now.”

  She gave him a grateful smile. As always, he seemed to have amazing intuition when it came to the perfect thing to say. Why did it take me so long to find a man this good? she wondered.

  Before she knew it, they were pulling up to Rick Coleman’s house. She saw Keeva’s long, furry grey face peering out of a downstairs window. A moment later, the curtain fell back into place as the dog disappeared. The door opened as they approached the front porch.

  “You must be Moira Darling,” said a slightly plump, middle-aged man. He had short brown hair, and behind his glasses his light blue eyes were red as if he had been crying recently. Her heart twisted with sympathy. The loss of his wife had obviously devastated him.

  “Yes, I am. You can just call me Moira,” she added. “And this is my friend, David.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” the man said, extending a hand. “I’m Rick.”

  She was reaching out to shake hands with him when he stumbled to the side, pushed out of the way by an eager grey shape the size of a pony. Keeva sniffed Moira and David all over, then leaned against the deli owner’s leg, looking up at her old friends with obvious joy.

  “I guess she recognizes you,” Rick said with a chuckle. “This is the happiest I’ve seen her for days. She hasn’t been doing much but lay around. She won’t even eat.”

  “Hi, sweetie,” Moira said, crouching down to let the dog sniff her face. “I missed you.”

  “Chelsea was right. The two of you do have a special bond.”

  Rick leaned against the door frame, watching the two of them get reunited. The moment lasted until a second man appeared behind Rick and cleared his throat.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “This is the woman from Michigan that I was telling you about,” Rick said. “She’s here to take Keeva.”

  “Ah.” The second man looked down at Moira for a moment, then smiled and extended his hand, which she shook. He was a tall, well-built man who bore a passing resemblance to Rick, though he seemed to be a few years younger. He was wearing a long-sleeved button-up shirt and a nice pair of khakis.

  “I’m Victor,” he said. “Rick’s brother. I’m helping Rick go through Chelsea’s things and get stuff cleaned up. It’s nice of you to drive all the way down here just for the dog. Oh, and this is Annette, my wife.” He gestured to a dark-haired woman who had appeared at his shoulder.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” she said. “I loved having Keeva around the house before. She’s definitely worth the drive.”

  “I guess I’ll go grab her stuff, then,” Rick said. “Not that I’m trying to hurry you away or anything, but we’ve still got a lot to do around here, and I’m sure you want to get started on the drive back…”

  “I understand,” Moira said. “I’ll help you put her stuff in the car. I’m sorry again about your wife. Losing someone suddenly is always horrible. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”

  “You giving her dog a loving home is enough,” he told her. “Keeva was her baby. Sometimes I wonder if she loved the dog more than me! I feel bad for giving her up, but I know that I won’t be able to give her the time or care that she deserves.”

  “I’ll send you pictures once she gets settled in, and you’re free to stop by and visit her if you’re ever in the area.” She stroked the dog’s head, which easily came up to her stomach. “We’re going to spoil you, aren’t we, sweetie? We sure are.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The drive home from Kentucky went just as smoothly as the drive there had gone. Keeva seemed content to sleep in the back while Moira and David took turns driving.

  “You haven’t been eating much, have you, poor girl?” she said, stroking the dog as she waited outside at one of the rest stops. Keeva was thinner than she had been last time Moira had seen her, though not as bad as she had been when she appeared in the backyard weeks ago. I’ll have to look online to see if dogs can get depressed, she thought. Certainly the sudden loss of her favorite person must have been traumatic to the dog.

  “You’d better hurry up and go potty if you have to,” the deli owner warned the dog when she saw David approaching. “We’re going to be back on the road in a minute, and then it’ll be another few hours until we stop again.”

  Keeva sniffed the ground disinterestedly, then looked up at Moira with a whine.

  “You don’t have to go? All right, if you say so.” She stroked the dog’s head one last time, then opened the car’s back door. Keeva climbed up and settled herself on the seat, her bulk making Moira glad that she hadn’t brought Maverick. That would have made for a very cramped trip indeed.

  They got home late enough that night that Moira decided to wait until the next morning to retrieve Maverick. She said her goodbyes to David on her porch, then went in and started unpacking Keeva’s bag of toys that Rick had given her. She put all the toys in the basket where she kept Maverick’s, and laid the folded blanket next to the couch so the dog would have somewhere comfortable to lie while she put away what was left of the food.

  Once she was done unpacking, she decided to give Keeva a late dinner and then head to bed. She pulled the extra ceramic dog bowl out of the cupboard and filled it with kibble. To her surprise, Keeva just sniffed the food then walked away. She had never seen the huge dog refuse food before. What could be wrong? Rick did say she hadn’t been eating much since Chelsea was killed, she thought. Maybe she’ll perk up once she sees Maverick tomorrow. Hopefully she’ll start eating again soon; she’s too thin for my liking. Deciding to try again in the morning, Moira put the bowl of kibble up on the counter, called Keeva over, and went upstairs to bed.

  After she downed a cup of coffee in the morning and attempted to feed Keeva again—the dog still refused to eat—she called Martha to arrange a time to pick up Maverick.

  “Any time,” her friend said. “I don’t have anything planned for today, so chances are I’ll be home whenever you show up.”

  “Okay, I’ll be over there in about an hour. I want to stop at the deli first and see how things are going.” She might only have been gone for two days, but she was eager to assure herself that all was in order. The deli was still important to her, even though she had recently taken a step back from it.

  Darrin and Allison were on staff when she got there. A couple of customers were sitting at the bistro tables near the windows enjoying quiches and a salad, and judging by the full shelves, a food delivery had been taken in and sorted by one of her employees. Things appeared to be running smoothly, and when Darrin greeted her with a smile, she knew that she had nothing to worry about. In fact, he had good news.

  “While you were gone, Mrs. Young from the church on Apple Street stopped by and asked if we could cater one of their events. I hope it’s okay… I said yes.”

  “That’s great, Darrin,” she told him. “How many people? Did she place an order yet?”

  “She said that she wanted us to make enough food for about two hundred people, and she plans on donating the leftovers to the food kitchen. She’ll be stopping in on Monday to fill out the food order and decide what exactly she wants,” he told her.

  “Do you want me to be here when she does that, or do you think you can handle it?” Moira asked.

  “I think I can handle it. I mostly just want to ask you if there’s going to be anything that will be hard to order in bulk. The event is two weeks away, and she said she just wants basic sandwich and salad stuff.”

  “As long as she sticks with the basic cold cuts, breads, and cheeses, she should be fine,” Moira told her employee. “Just let her know that prices for the fresh produce will vary. If she wants an out-of-season fruit or vegetable for the salads, then it’s going to cost her a lot more, so try to point her towards stuff that’s still in season
.”

  “I’ll let her know,” he promised. Moira could tell that he was excited to be responsible for such a big catering contract so soon after his promotion to manager, and she smiled at him. There was no one else she would rather have on the job. She was confident that Darrin could handle most anything, and if something came up that he wasn’t sure about, he wouldn’t let his pride keep him from asking for help.

  Since everything was going well at the deli, her next stop was Martha’s. Maverick nearly bowled her over in his excitement when she came to the door, and she had to make him lie down so she could pet Diamond without the little dog getting trampled.

  “He was good,” Martha told her. “A perfect gentleman, as always. I took him and Diamond to the park yesterday and he got to wade in the river.”

  “I bet he enjoyed that.” Moira ruffled the dog’s fur, then snapped the leash onto his collar. “Thanks so much for taking care of him. You and Diamond should come over later this week and see Keeva.”

  “Sure, just let me know what day works for you. I’m free most evenings after work.”

  “I’ll call you,” the deli owner promised. With a wave goodbye, she turned and left, Maverick at her heels. Whenever she left him with someone else, whether it was Candice, David, or Martha, he seemed reluctant to leave her side when she came back, and this time was no exception. Having a dog’s love was unbeatable.

  When she got home, the first thing she did was let the two dogs into the backyard together to get reacquainted. After a few seconds of intense sniffing, they began playing as if they had never been apart. Once Keeva lay down on the deck, panting, Moira decided it was time to go in and start on some of the housework that she had been putting off. Remembering that Keeva hadn’t eaten since she had picked her up, she shooed Maverick into the mudroom and set the other dog’s bowl on the ground. Once again the wolfhound just sniffed at the kibble and walked away.

  Growing concerned, she directed the dog to the water bowl and felt relief when she began to lap up the cool water. At least she’ll drink, she thought. I’ll stop at the store tomorrow and get some canned food if she’s still not eating. I’ve never seen a dog refuse canned dog food.

  Her relief faded immediately when Keeva began vomiting the water all over the floor. Moira realized that the Irish wolfhound was not just depressed; she was very sick. There was only one thing that she could do.

  “We need to go to the vet,” she said out loud as Keeva lay on the floor and whined. “Whatever’s going on, they’ll help you, Keeva. I promise.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Moira stared at the blurry black-and-white x-ray on the screen. Even her untrained eye could pick out the mass in Keeva’s gut. She didn’t need the doctor to tell her what would happen if whatever it was wasn’t removed, and soon. It was obvious that the dog was getting sicker by the hour.

  “She has a blockage,” the vet said. “I strongly suggest immediate surgery. I can clear my schedule and start as soon as we get her blood work results in.”

  “Okay. If that’s what she needs, do it,” she told him. “Do you have any idea what it will end up costing?”

  “I won’t be certain until I see if there’s any other damage, and see exactly where in the intestinal tract it is, but I can give you a ballpark range” He named a price and she winced, but nodded.

  “Do whatever it takes,” she said, more glad than ever that Darrin had accepted the catering job from Mrs. Young. It looked like the extra money would be needed.

  “I’ll have Gina take her into the back and start prepping her. Besides the blockage, she seems to be in pretty good health. She’s a bit underweight, which can raise certain risks when it comes to anesthesia, but as long as her blood work checks out I’m sure she won’t have an issue. Will you be waiting here?”

  “Yes,” Moira said firmly. “There’s no way I’d be able to concentrate on anything else even if I did leave. Will she be able to come home right away after the surgery?”

  “That depends on how quickly she wakes up and if she has any side effects from the anesthesia. But likely yes. She’ll have to have minimal exercise for a few weeks afterwards, though. This is major surgery, and we wouldn’t want her to open anything up. We’ll give you a packet of information telling you exactly what to do.”

  “I understand.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Had she gotten Keeva back just to lose her again so soon? “Is it okay if I have a moment with her before you take her into the back?”

  “Of course,” the vet said, his eyes understanding. “Take as much time as you need.”

  Back in the waiting room, she crouched down next to Keeva who was giving quiet, pitiful whines. Her soft brown eyes were full of pain. Moira felt terrible for not realizing that something was wrong sooner. The poor, sweet dog must have been suffering all night—or maybe even longer than that, if Rick had been right about her not eating much and acting lethargic for a few days. Yet despite it all, the dog had kept her gentle disposition.

  “You’re amazing, girl,” she told her, stroking the dog’s soft ears. “We’re going to get you fixed up in no time. I wonder what you ate to cause such a blockage? The vet said he couldn’t tell from the x-ray.”

  The dog gave a long, slow sigh. Moira kissed her gently on the forehead, then rose to her feet. It was time to let the vet tech take her into the back and start preparing her for surgery.

  The next few hours were among the most stressful of her life. She spent an eternity in the waiting room, sitting in the corner away from the other patients who were bringing their pets in for routine exams and vaccinations. Every time the door to the back of the building opened, she looked up, hoping to see the vet walking towards her with a smile on his face.

  “Ms. Darling?” a vet tech said at last. Moira looked up. “Dr. Hans is done. Keeva is being moved to a kennel right now. It will be a while until she wakes up, but everything went fine. Could you follow me into the back? The vet has something he wants to show you.”

  “Of course.” She rose, giddy with relief. Keeva had pulled through and was on the way to recovery. Her wallet may have taken a hit—emergency surgery was never inexpensive—but at least she would have years to come to spend with the big, friendly grey dog.

  “Here’s your girl,” the vet said after the tech showed her to the kennel room. “Usually we put them in crates after surgery to prevent them from getting up too soon and possibly falling and tearing something open, but we don’t have any crates big enough for her so this will have to work.”

  The dog was lying on her side on a soft bed, and blankets were spread over the kennel floor. She was still out of it, but Moira could see her feet beginning to twitch as she slowly woke up. Her belly was shaved, and there was a long gash on her abdomen, sutured closed with small black stitches.

  “Poor baby,” the deli owner breathed. “Did everything go smoothly during the surgery?”

  “Yes, luckily. We did have to remove about an inch of intestine, but she won’t even notice it’s gone. I just wanted to show you the culprit.” He pulled a small plastic container out of his pocket. Inside was a wad of cloth and a large silver cufflink. “It looks like she was chewing on someone’s cuff.”

  “Oh my goodness. Do you have any idea how long that was inside of her?”

  “My best guess is she swallowed it several days ago. It must have formed a partial blockage at first, then moved and became completely lodged in her gut.”

  “I feel so bad for not realizing that something was wrong with her at first,” she admitted.

  “Don’t beat yourself up. The important thing is you took her in for treatment as soon as you did recognize that something was wrong; barring any unforeseen complications from the surgery, she’ll be fine.”

  “Thank you so much for saving her. When will I be able to take her home?” she asked.

  “I think we’ll give it another hour or two just to make sure she’s recovering well from the anesthesia. You can go grab some food or get
some coffee—she’s out of the woods now, and you must be tired of sitting in that waiting room.”

  She followed the vet’s advice and left for a few hours. She had just enough time to stop at the grocery store and run home to put the food away and let Maverick out before the veterinary office called her and told her that Keeva was ready to go home.

  “Here’s a packet of information on what causes blockages in dogs and the signs and symptoms. There’s also a packet on after-surgery care, but the two most important things to remember are no baths, no running or jumping—even onto a couch or bed—and no playing with other dogs for at least two weeks. We’d like to see her back here in fourteen days so we can make sure her stitches are dissolving and she’s healing up without any problems,” the vet tech told her. “Dr. Hans put the container with the cufflink in the bag too, just in case you wanted to keep it. Someone’s missing a pretty expensive piece of jewelry.”

  “I’ll be sure to let her previous owner know about it—it’s probably his. I hope she doesn’t try to eat anything else she’s not supposed to. I’ll have to keep a close eye on her.” The dog hadn’t shown any interest in eating contraband when she had stayed with Moira before, but there was a first time for everything.

  The tech went onto the back and brought a ruffled Keeva out. With her bare belly and the cone around her neck, the sweet dog looked pitiful. She rested her chin mournfully on Moira’s hand when she went to pet her.

  “I think she’ll be happy to get home,” the vet tech said with a chuckle. “She’s been a sweetheart here, but I could tell she had no idea what was going on.”

  “I’m sure she’ll feel a lot better once she sleeps off the rest of the anesthesia and gets some food in her,” Moira said. Picking up the dog’s leash, she added, “I’m glad everything turned out all right. Tell Dr. Hans thanks again for everything he did.”

  She and Keeva left the building and made their way slowly across the parking lot to the car, where the deli owner helped the dog into the back seat, readjusted the cone around her neck, then left for home.