Rex looks on as Chelle sets up a Pepe Prize display
This charming short story by Chelle Martin is the Winner of the Pepe Prize contest. We hope you enjoy reading it as much as we did.
“Geri, the mail is here,” Pepe said, as he watched an array of envelopes, magazines, and supermarket circulars fall through the brass slot in the front door. Sorting through the delivery, he sniffed out a particular envelope with a canine odor.
“This one is addressed to me.” Pepe gnawed on a corner to open it. “My first solo case!”
“What are you talking about, Pepe? We’re a team. Sullivan and Sullivan.”
“That is true, Geri. But I wanted to expand our business any way I could, so I took out a national newspaper ad. As you know, dogs spend a lot of time on the paper. They are bound to see our ad.”
“I never knew you read the paper, Pepe.”
Chelle, Sassy & Rex
“Mostly I just do the crossword puzzle,” Pepe replied while reading the letter. “Oh, no. This is very bad. Dogs have been disappearing from the beach. A fellow Chihuahua needs my help. His name is Rex, and his sister Sassy is one of the missing dogs.” He showed Geri the enclosed photo of Rex, Sassy, and their owner, Chelle, sitting on a boardwalk bench with the ocean behind them.
“I don’t think I ever saw black and white Chihuahuas,” Geri said. “Rex resembles a Papillon with his long hair, and Sassy looks like a Rat Terrier. But I wonder why we haven’t heard about missing dogs. We go to the beach.”
“Rex lives in New Jersey.”
“New Jersey! Oh, no, Pepe. We’re not licensed to work in New Jersey.”
“Geri, I am not licensed at all—except for my dog license—but it has not stopped me from solving cases. I will go and meet with Rex. Who knows? We might even be related.”
Geri took the letter from Pepe and looked it over. “There is nothing I can do to talk you out of this, is there?”
“I am afraid not.”
“Well, you aren’t flying to New Jersey by yourself. I’ll go book us a flight.”
After landing at Newark Liberty International Airport, Geri rented a mid-size sedan, loaded Pepe into the passenger seat, placed a suitcase in the trunk, and headed down the New Jersey Turnpike looking for the Garden State Parkway.
Forty minutes later, Pepe commented on the change of landscape. “It is hard to believe that we landed in an industrial area and are now on this beautiful highway. Why do people make fun of this state? Look at the colorful trees. The fall foliage is beautiful.”
“Some people are quick to judge.”
“I know. Some people think Chihuahuas are yappy little dogs.” He shook his head. “Is this Parkway taking us to the dog park?”
“It’s taking us to the beach.”
“Then why is it not called a Beachway?”
“The dog park is part of one of the local beaches.”
“Humans make things more complicated than they should be.”
Geri smiled, obviously in awe of his astute observation.
Pepe sat silently for a while, thinking about the missing dogs. A beach should be a happy place. He and Geri went to their own beach on occasion where he flirted with the lady dogs and played ball and Frisbee. He’d even ventured out on a surfboard once or twice.
“Geri, did I ever tell you about my job as a lifeguard?”
Pepe had had many jobs before coming to live with Geri and never ceased to amaze her with tales from his brightly colored past.
“I was the mascot of a hotel along the California coast and—”
“Hotels don’t have mascots. Teams have mascots.”
“Geri, please do not interrupt. I was part of the hotel team. That is why on one terribly hot summer day, I was lounging by the pool supervising the hotel guests. I must have dozed off because when I awoke, all the adults had left the pool and now stood around an outdoor barbecue pit.
“None of them saw a toddler fall into the water. I could not let that little girl drown, so I ran to the end of the pool, grabbed a floatie and dove in. My barking caught the attention of her father and he helped me pull her out.”
“That was very brave of you. Was the little girl okay?”
“Yes, she was perfectly fine,” he answered with teary eyes.
“Then why are you so sad?”
“I was blamed for the accident. They thought the girl had followed me to the pool and jumped in after me. I lost my home that day.”
“Oh, that’s horrible,” Geri said. “How could they do that to you?”
Pepe dried his eyes on a hoodie that Geri had draped on the seat. “It is okay. I know the truth. And we will also find the truth where the missing dogs are concerned. I will not let Rex down.”
Geri and Pepe arrived at The Atlantic Breeze Inn, a cheerful bed-and-breakfast located a block from the Atlantic Ocean in a Jersey shore town called Avon-by-the-Sea.
Photo of Avon-by-the-Sea y Robert McGovern
The three-story structure was clad in shake-shingles painted white, with grand columns for an entrance and a gray slate roof sporting several chimney stacks.
“I hope our room has a fireplace,” Geri said. “It’s a little chilly.”
Pepe shivered in agreement. “Perhaps I should have packed a sweater. I am not used to October in New Jersey.”
“Don’t worry, Pepe. I brought you a sweater and a sweatshirt.”
“I hope it is the red one. I look muy guapo in the red one. Also, the ladies love it.”
Geri reminded him, “We’re here on official business.”
They were greeted inside by Eileen and Matthew McKenzie.
“Your inn is lovely,” Geri told the middle-aged couple.
“We both grew up in town and always admired it,” Eileen said. “Then shortly after we were married, the owner decided to sell and we couldn’t resist.”
“Twenty years ago,” Matthew added. “Helps me to remember our anniversary.”
“And we agreed to make the inn dog-friendly. We have a small bed for Pepe in your room. And some special treats.”
“I’m sure Pepe will love that,” Geri said, while signing in.
Eileen assigned them a room on the second floor, and Matthew carried their suitcase up the stairs. After depositing it on a stand at the foot of the bed, he said, “If there’s anything you need, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
Geri noticed a courtesy newspaper on a wicker table. A small headline read, Dogs Stolen from Beach.
Matthew noticed her concerned look. “Be careful if you take Pepe to the Manasquan dog beach. A few dogs have gone missing recently.”
“Geri, ask him if he knows any of them,” Pepe said.
“You wouldn’t happen to know any of the owners of the missing pets?”
“As a matter of fact, I do,” Matthew said. “Her name is Catherine Delmonica, and her dog’s name is Rudy. She lives two blocks over, third house from the ocean. Poor Catherine is just devastated. It’s a friendly town and we’re all hoping she gets her Rudy back.”
“Thanks, Matthew. I hope they catch the guy.”
“We will get him, Geri,” Pepe said. “Dogs should not feel unsafe in their own neighborhood.”
Catherine Delmonica’s front yard was decorated with colorful fall mums, corn stalks and pumpkins. A yard sign proclaimed A Very Spoiled Poodle and His Owner Live Here.
Pepe and Geri climbed the brick steps and stepped onto the mahogany porch of a Victorian-style home. Geri pressed the buzzer and a Westminster chime echoed within.
“Coming!” called a voice. Seconds later, a tiny woman with shoulder-length white hair peered out through the glass storm door. “Hello?”
“Mrs. Delmonica? My name is Geri Sullivan and this is my Chihuahua, Pepe. I understand your dog Rudy is one of the dogs taken from Manasquan Beach. May I speak with you for a moment?”
Pepe noticed Catherine’s face light up at the mention of Rudy. “Oh, my, yes. Do you have any news?” she asked. She ushered them into a cozy living room where a fire blazed in a brick hearth. “Please, sit down.” She motioned toward a couch and chairs.
Once Geri situated herself on the couch, Pepe jumped into her lap. He, like Geri, was eager to hear first-hand about the dognappings.
“Are you an investigator?” Catherine asked.
“I’m a private investigator,” Geri explained. “I was alerted to the case by”—she glanced at Pepe—“a fellow dog lover.”
Catherine nodded. “I found out from speaking with the other owners, that all of the missing dogs are pedigreed. My Poodle, Rudy. Also, a Yorkshire Terrier, a Maltese, and a Chihuahua.”
“The Chihuahua must be Sassy,” Pepe said.
“Do you personally know the other dog owners?” Geri asked Catherine.
“No, but we met after the police started to investigate. My Poodle is a toy, and it seems whoever is doing this is targeting small dogs.”
“That makes sense,” Geri said. “They’d be easier to grab.”
Catherine pulled a tissue from her cardigan pocket and wiped at her eyes. “Why would someone do this?”
“Have you received any ransom notes?” Geri asked. “I’m assuming you had tags on Rudy’s collar with his contact info? Or maybe he was microchipped?”
“Yes, all of the owners’ dogs had tags. I think only the Yorkie was microchipped. But none of us has heard a word. We’ve all kept in touch with one another.”
Pepe wondered if perhaps the dognappers were planning to sell the pedigreed dogs. If so, they could be half way across the country. It would be difficult to sell them locally without getting caught.
It was sad seeing Catherine cry over her beloved pet. Framed pictures of Rudy, some with Catherine, decorated the walls and table. Pepe wondered if Rudy was her only fur-child. Some people preferred fur-children to the human kind.
Geri asked Catherine for her phone number and promised her that they’d do their best to bring Rudy home again.
As they walked back to the bed-and-breakfast, Pepe said. “Well, now we must visit this dog beach. If I have to, I will act as a decoy and see if we can lure the dognapper out of hiding.”
Manasquan’s Rocky Cove Beach provided a place for dogs to run in the sand and surf. Most days, dogs had to be leashed, but instructions were posted that, for a few hours each week, they could have the run of the fenced-off area. Small dogs under twenty-five pounds were allowed specified times on Tuesday and Thursday. Dogs over that size were granted Wednesday and Friday.
“Today is Tuesday,” said Pepe excitedly, as Geri drove past the large sign and found a parking spot.
Geri grabbed her handbag and opened the door, and Pepe bounded from the car and hurried towards the sand. “Come on, Geri. Hurry up!”
“Pepe, you need your sweater!” Geri called.
“Perhaps you are right.” He shivered as Geri caught up and slipped the red knit over his head and gently pulled his paws through the openings. “Ah, much better. Now I will go speak with that pretty Shih Tzu over there, while you interrogate the owners.”
Geri watched Pepe trot over the sand, his short legs sinking in the soft grains until he reached the harder surface near the water’s edge.
“Your Chihuahua is adorable,” a woman said. “Be sure to keep an eye on him though. Someone has been stealing dogs from this beach.”
Geri immediately recognized Chelle from the photo Rex had sent, but couldn’t very well tell the woman her dog had contacted a private investigator from a newspaper ad.
“I saw an article about the missing dogs. My name is Geri Sullivan. I’m a PI, and I’d like to help. I spoke with Catherine Delmonica this morning.”
“I’m Chelle Martin, and I’ve met Catherine. My little Sassy is one of the missing dogs. I still have her brother, Rex. He’s locked in my SUV right there.” She nodded over her shoulder at a nearby vehicle. “I won’t chance losing him, too. I keep coming back here hoping…”
Geri kept her eyes glued to Pepe who frolicked with the Shih Tzu just out of reach of the surely chilly waves. “If you don’t mind my asking, what happened on the day you lost Sassy?”
Chelle shook her head. “It was awful. We’ve come here for years without any trouble. Then one day my friend and I stopped here to let our dogs run. The three of them—Sassy, Rex, and my friend’s dog, Bonnie—were having a grand time. Then the next thing we knew, Sassy was gone. It had been a particularly busy afternoon. Lots of people. I’m not sure how she was lured away, but a man remembers seeing a woman wearing a bulky coat. He’d never seen her before.”
“And you think she may have hidden Sassy under her coat?”
“It’s quite possible. But other than the coat, the witness wasn’t able to provide a description of her face, so no sketch could be made.”
“Well, don’t give up hope,” Geri said.
She watched as Pepe and the Shih Tzu did final sniffs of one another and headed back from the water’s edge.
“Geri,” he panted, out of breath. “That was Winnie. She was here the day Sassy went missing. She remembers the smell of liverwurst. In fact, she was following the scent along with Sassy, but Sassy was the one who was grabbed.”
Geri nodded, then said to Chelle, “This is Pepe.”
“Hi Pepe! Would you like to meet my Chihuahua?”
“Si,” Pepe barked and wagged his tail. “I will ask him directly about his sister. This couldn’t have worked out more perfectly.”
Chelle led them to her SUV where Rex sat in an elevated dog seat keeping an eye on the beach.
“Rex, this is Pepe.” Chelle snapped a leash onto his harness and lowered him to the pavement.
Pepe greeted him nose to nose. Then he quickly related that he and Geri were the private investigators he had contacted through the advertisement.
Chelle smiled. “Wow! Rex seems really happy to meet Pepe. It must be a Chihuahua thing.”
Geri continued to speak with Chelle, while Rex told Pepe about Sassy and what he thought might have happened on the day she went missing.
As visiting hours at the dog park came to a close, owners and their little dogs headed for their vehicles.
“We should be going as well,” Chelle said. She reached into her bag and handed Geri a business card. “I know Rex misses his play dates on the beach, and he seems to have hit it off with Pepe. So, if I can be of any help, or you just want to grab a cup of coffee while you’re here, please call me.”
“That would be great,” Geri said. She handed Chelle her own business card. “And please call me day or night if you hear anything.”
Over a continental breakfast the following morning, Pepe and Geri discussed what they had learned since arriving in New Jersey.
“To summarize, a woman is targeting toy breed pedigreed dogs,” Geri said.
“And using liverwurst to lure them away,” Pepe said, as he nibbled on a danish. “Liverwurst to dogs is like catnip to cats. Whoever this woman is, she knows a dog’s weakness. I think we should go back to the beach today. The trail is hot, and we do not want any more dogs to go missing.”
Geri slipped into her hoodie and dressed Pepe in his favorite blue sweatshirt. He didn’t want to be seen in the same outfit twice in case Winnie was there again.
“We must go now before it is beach time for the big dogs.”
“But you’ll have to stay in the car or wear a leash.”
Pepe frowned. “Leashes! It is very humiliating to be walked on a string.”
Geri smiled. “Sometimes leashes are necessary, Pepe. Not all dogs are as well-mannered as you.”
“That is true.”
Photo by Judith Ann Monahan
Eileen and Matthew bid them a good day as they left the inn and headed south again. Geri turned onto Ocean Avenue for the easy commute through Belmar and Spring Lake, then Sea Girt and into the town of Manasquan. To their disappointment, the beach was empty except for a few seagulls sunning themselves.
“I think we should still look for clues,” Pepe said.
Geri attached Pepe’s leash and they walked the perimeter of the area, looking for anything of value.
“Geri, over there! I smell something interesting. Cheese…ham…and liverwurst!”
Stuck against an area of fencing was a brown paper bag. Geri retrieved it and peered inside to find a supermarket receipt and a plastic bag. “Let’s go back to the car. I don’t want to touch anything that might provide a clue.”
Inside the car, Geri opened her handbag and removed a pair of gloves, then grabbed the plastic bag by its edges. “ShopRite deli counter. You’re right, Pepe. The label is marked liverwurst.”
“Perhaps the dognapper’s prints are on the plastic bag. We must take this evidence to the police.”
Geri put the plastic bag inside the larger brown bag for safe keeping. “There are problems with that plan. First of all, we don’t know anybody here who will take your word for it that liverwurst was used to lure the dogs. Even if we could convince them, there’s no guarantee this person has a criminal record on file.”
“I hate to say this, but maybe Jimmy G knows someone we could contact.”
“It’s a long shot,” but Geri was already dialing their quirky PI friend on her cell phone. Jimmy G answered on the third ring.
“It’s Geri. I need a favor.”
“Jimmy G does favors,” he replied, referring to himself in third-person.
“Pepe and I are on a case. Do you have a connection in New Jersey where we could run some fingerprints?”
“Jimmy G knows people all over. Give me a minute.”
Geri had put her phone on speaker so she and Pepe could listen simultaneously. After what sounded like a stack of boxes hitting the floor and several file doors slamming, he was back on the line.
“Call this number and tell them Jimmy G sent you. Good luck,” he said, then disconnected.
A man simply known as Bucky met with Geri and Pepe in a small office in a newly renovated area of Asbury Park. The business’s phone number was printed on the plate glass window, but no business name.
“So, you’re friends of Jimmy G,” Bucky said from behind his desk. Two men and a woman meandered about the office, taking calls and typing on laptops.
Geri quickly explained the reason for their visit.
“Rocco, you want to see if you can get some prints off the deli bag inside here. And if you get any, give them a run through the data base and see what comes up.”
Rocco, a sprightly thin man of about thirty-five, left his keyboard and took the bag from Geri. “You got it, boss.”
Once his employee had left, Bucky told Geri, “If we’re lucky, you’ll have an answer by tomorrow, Thursday at the latest.”
As Geri helped Pepe back into their rental car, he assured her, “We will have the missing dogs back in no time.”
Waiting around for information was like watching paint dry. Geri and Pepe took a walk around the streets of Avon-by-the-Sea and visited a few quaint shops to pass the time.
“I could get used to living near the beach,” Pepe said. “Perhaps we should vacation here sometime.”
“This has nothing to do with Winnie the Shih Tzu?”
“Of course not.”
Inside a store called Me ’n My Dog, Geri had helped Pepe into a denim jacket with Bad to the Bone embroidered on the back. He admired himself in a full-length mirror. “This is me, is it not?”
Geri agreed and, after a bit more browsing, handed the jacket along with a sweatshirt for herself to the clerk at the register. Geri had just run her credit card through the payment processor when her phone rang. The number was unfamiliar, but it was a New Jersey area code.
“Geri, this is Chelle. Sassy is home! Can you come over? My address is on the card I gave you.”
“Pepe and I will be right there.” Geri ended the call, signed the merchandise receipt, and thanked the clerk. She told Pepe about the break in their case as they hurried to their rental car.
Chelle lived a few blocks away in the southern part of Avon-by-the-Sea. She greeted them at the door with a huge smile, holding Sassy in her arms. “I don’t want to put her down. I’ve missed her so much.”
Sassy fussed over Chelle, kissing her face and rubbing her body against her chest.
“I’m so glad she’s back,” Geri said. “What happened?”
Chelle invited Geri into the kitchen and offered her a seat at the table while she brewed some coffee pods. In the meantime, Sassy went to mingle with Rex and Pepe.
“I couldn’t believe it,” Chelle said. “I heard a bark by the back door and there she was. I called the other owners to let them know, and to ask if maybe their dogs had also returned.” She placed creamer and sugar on the table. “Their dogs aren’t back, so Sassy must have escaped.”
Pepe returned from conversing with the dogs in the next room and confirmed Chelle’s assumption. “Geri, Sassy told me that she slipped out the door when the dogs were being moved to another house. They are on the other side of the railroad tracks in Belmar. The lady who took her has an accomplice and they were talking about setting up puppy mills for designer dogs. That is why they wanted small dogs. It did not matter if they were the same breed.”
Geri asked Chelle, “Sassy isn’t spayed, is she?”
“Well, no, not yet. We were in a few dog shows. I planned on having her spayed eventually, but you can’t show if your dog is spayed or neutered.”
Geri placed a hand on her arm. “What about the other missing dogs?”
“I don’t think the two missing males were fixed. I’m not sure about the female. Why? What are you thinking?”
“That maybe the dogs were stolen for breeding purposes. Designer dogs sell for a lot of money these days. Puggles, for example, are a combination of Pugs and Beagles.”
“You might be right. I wish Sassy could tell us who took her and where she was kept.”
Geri related her and Pepe’s earlier search of the beach and how they’d come upon the discarded deli bag from the ShopRite. If only she could tell her how brave and smart Sassy had been, outwitting her dognappers! “It might still be too early, but let me make a call.”
Geri excused herself to the privacy of the backyard and dialed Bucky’s number. To her surprise, he answered on the first ring.
“Ms. Sullivan, I was just about to phone you. We’ve got a match on the prints. I’m texting you a photo and rap sheet.”
Geri didn’t want to waste any time, so she apologized to Chelle for having to leave so abruptly, grabbed Pepe and drove into the neighboring town of Belmar to see if they could find the missing pets. Now that she knew the identity of the woman, a Bea Maxwell, she might be able to spot her from the information that Sassy had provided to Pepe. The woman had previous arrests for petty larceny, receiving stolen goods, and check fraud. Her last known address had been in Brooklyn, New York, so that was of no help. Geri set the rental car’s GPS for the Belmar train station.
“Sassy said it is a very big place,” Pepe said. “And she remembers the smell of pizza. Like me, cheese and tomatoes are among her favorite foods.”
“I’m not sure that’s going to help. There are lots of restaurants with Italian food and lots of pizzerias. Did she mention the color of the house, or any other type of landmark?”
Pepe thought back to their conversation. “Yes! A white house with umbrella fringe. And she did say something about a lighthouse.”
“Umbrella fringe? That makes no sense. And a lighthouse?” Geri followed the GPS voice until she found a train platform behind a small shopping area. “Are you sure?”
“I speak fluent Chihuahua, Geri. Of course, I am sure. Those are the clues. Do not forget she was running for her life.” Pepe pushed the power button for the window and rolled it down. “I am not smelling any pizza, Geri. Try driving up and down the streets where the tracks meet.”
“A lighthouse. Could she see water from a window in the house?”
“I do not think so. She and the others were in a room with mini-blinds.”
Geri drove along numerous streets on both sides of the railroad tracks, until Pepe caught a scent. “Pizza! With extra cheese! We must be close.”
Geri turned the corner and maneuvered half-way up the block.
“There!” Pepe shouted.
“That’s what Sassy must have meant.” A miniature lighthouse cast in concrete sat on the lawn of a white vinyl-sided home with blue and white striped awnings. “She was right. The house has umbrella fringe on the windows.”
Geri pulled the car to the curb and looked around. The place appeared to be deserted. “I hope we aren’t too late.” She headed up the walkway with Pepe following. The house had a Summer/Winter Rental sign posted outside.
“Wait! I hear a dog. He is barking for help. They are still here.”
Geri hit the button and a loud bell rang within. Nobody answered. She tried the doorknob, but it was locked.
“Let us try around back,” Pepe suggested.
Geri unlatched a white gate and they found a back porch with a doggie door. “I will go in,” Pepe said.
“I don’t like that idea. The dognapper could still be inside.”
“We are so close. I cannot let them down, and you cannot fit through the opening. No offense.” Before Geri could stop him, Pepe darted through the door and into the house. She could hear his familiar bark, followed by a frenzied chorus of replies.
While she awaited Pepe’s return, a car pulled into the driveway. Geri ducked behind the porch and watched Bea Maxwell and another man, presumably her accomplice, head for the front door.
“C’mon, Pepe,” she whispered. “Where are you?” When he didn’t reappear, Geri returned to the front door as it closed. She immediately rang the bell.
The man answered, “Yeah?” He wasn’t smiling.
“I saw your sign. I’m looking for a winter rental.”
“You gotta call the owner.”
“Oh, you’re not the owner? Because I was ready to give a deposit today.” Geri needed to stall and give Pepe some time. She noticed the house had grown suspiciously quiet.
“Who is it Alan?” A woman’s gravelly voice.
A sound caught Geri’s attention and she turned to see Pepe poised at the side of the house surrounded by three furry faces.
“I’m sorry, my mistake.” Geri backed down the front steps.
Bea joined her accomplice at the front door. “Alan, someone was here. The mutts are gone!”
“Winter rental my—”
“Pepe, get to the car!” Geri shouted. She raced to the driver’s side door and heard a commotion behind her.
Bea and Alan were on the ground in a tangled heap, apparently tripped up on the stairs by Pepe and the pack of little dogs.
Two Belmar police cars pulled up to the house, one blocking the driveway.
Pepe ran to Geri’s side. “I called for backup while I was in the house.”
“But they can’t hear you speak. Only I can hear you.”
“That is true, but I can still dial 9-1-1. Do you not remember the story about the dog who saved his owner’s life that way? The operator sent the police to investigate the call because all she heard was a barking dog. The police found the owner passed out on the floor.”
Geri approached the cops and showed them the text message with the rap sheet and photo of Bea Maxwell. Both criminals were still down on the ground. Alan, must have hit his head during his fall, and Bea was clutching her knee and moaning.
The two officers recognized the three missing dogs from news reports. Geri provided them with Chelle and Catherine’s phone numbers, so they could vouch for her working on solving the case.
“You’re a long way from home, Miss Sullivan. You must really love dogs to travel across the country.”
“I do. And I especially love one dog in particular,” she said, lifting Pepe into her arms.
The Atlantic Breeze Inn held a party in Geri and Pepe’s honor for their excellent sleuthing skills in solving the case of the missing pedigreed pets. The dogs and their owners, now happily reunited, shared a tasty vanilla cake in the shape of a bone. And Eileen had made some cheese and tomato flavored dog biscuits after hearing how much Pepe and Sassy loved Italian food.
“You must get this recipe,” Pepe said. “These are the best treats I have ever had. Next to real pizza, of course.”
Rex and Sassy barked their agreement, and Sassy gave Pepe a kiss on the nose as a special thank-you.
He said, “I am going to miss both of you. You would make good investigators.”
Catherine, Chelle, and the other grateful pet owners showered Pepe with gifts for his service, including new toys, clothes and a memory foam dog bed. They wanted to present Geri with a very generous gift certificate, but she insisted they donate the money to a local animal shelter.
Later that evening, back in their room at the inn, Pepe said, “Geri, I know this was supposed to be my first solo case. But I now realize, I could not have done it without you.”
Geri hugged him. “That’s why we’re Sullivan and Sullivan. I couldn’t have done it without you, either.”
Chelle Martin is the author of many short stories appearing in numerous mystery and romance anthologies. A past President and Vice President of the New Jersey chapter of Sisters in Crime, she’s also a member of Romance Writers of American and Mystery Writers of America. Born a Jersey Girl, she loves spending time at the shore while working on her novels. She’s currently writing the Dog Mom mysteries featuring her Chihuahuas, Rex and Sassy. For more information, check out her website.
The photos of the beach came from the Avon-by-the-Sea website.