3 Treasure Under Finny's Nose

by Dana Mentink

  “Full?” Jack’s mind raced. “He set up an extra tank, planning on doing some deep diving, but he never got the chance. Is this about that shipwreck?”

  “Don’t know. The college people insisted they are interested in it purely as a research project. Last group that dove the wreck years ago didn’t find much of anything anyway. ’Course we had that killer storm awhile back. Maybe that stirred something up.”

  “Let’s get Sandra and Ethan in here and apply some pressure.”

  “They’ll be here at three o’clock.”

  “Okay.”

  Jack felt a vein pound behind his left eye along with tightness in his quads from the bike ride. “Pictures?”

  Nate slid a set of digital photos over the desk and pointed. “No official word from the coroner yet, but I’m thinking this little baby did him in, not the ocean.”

  Jack squinted at the rope wrapped around the victim’s neck in the picture. “I’ve never seen a knot like that.”

  “Me neither. Looks like some kind of sailor’s knot. I wonder if Monk knows it. He’s an old sea dog.”

  “I’ll head over there later.”

  Mary poked her head into the office. “I got rid of Maude but only after promising someone will give her a call later today. That someone is not going to be me.”

  Jack sighed. “I don’t get paid enough to endure Maude Stone.”

  Mary flipped her braid over her shoulder. “None of us do, but I just did my turn, remember? Coroner’s office called. You were right, Nate. Guy was strangled.”

  Nate thumped his chest. “I am Ubercop, ruler of the police world. I am invincible.”

  Jack laughed. “Well, Ubercop, give my regards to Maude when you call her this afternoon.”

  Chapter Six

  The men are dirty. Rough and coarse, with long matted hair and hands hardened into claws. They treat me well, though, because I am the only one who can cook. Even so, I daren’t tell them I’m a woman or all would be lost. It is a dangerous place here for all but intolerable for the female species. I heard tell that the vaqueros ride among the Indian villages and drive out the young girls and sell them for 100 dollars each. How can it be true? With such tales, I have no choice but to remain Indigo Orson.

  The day I went to town for supplies, I came upon a group of men standing next to their long tom, watching a pot on the fire, looking as if they had been knocked down. Come to be known, they were trying to figure out why their rice was not cooked properly. I told them in as gruff a way as I could manage, to add water to the pot! Imagine. They are without even the most basic skills. Probably they never gave a thought to how their women back home prepared the meals or mended the clothes. What they would give for their wives’ home-cooked specialties or excellent laundering now. They say men are the stronger species, but here they have been reduced to little children without the civilizing influence of women.

  Children. Now there was a touchy subject. Ruth closed the binder and sipped from her thermos of hot tea. The Tuesday morning sun was barely approaching the horizon and her cheeks were cold. She’d left Monk snoring softly and tiptoed away down to the beach. Now her thoughts rolled like the waves that heaved along with her stomach.

  Bryce was back.

  The son she hadn’t seen since her first husband’s funeral greeted her with a “Hi, Mom,” as he emerged from around Monk’s back.

  Hi, Mom, as if he was stopping in for his daily visit.

  It would be more natural if he called her Ruth. That would fit the distant relationship they endured. He was twenty-six now, but he looked older. And different somehow. Ruth pulled her hood tighter as she remembered. He looked a trifle. . .uncertain. She did not recall seeing anything but a confident look on his face the last few times she’d encountered him.

  Monk appeared and lowered his bulky frame onto the rock next to her. The shadows under his eyes marked a fitful sleep. “All right, let’s get it out on the table. How much trouble am I in exactly? I’m here to take my medicine.”

  “No trouble. It took me by surprise, that’s all.” Surprise? More like total shock. They’d managed a few forced pleasantries before Bryce retreated to the guest room and her to the bathtub.

  Monk sighed. “Honestly, he surprised the stuffing out of me, too. There I am, just getting off the plane at the San Francisco airport and this young fella comes up to me and says he thinks we know each other. I didn’t even recognize him, but he whipped out our wedding picture. Doggone if the guy isn’t your son. Imagine my surprise to find out he was on his way here. What are the odds of that happening at an international airport?”

  Bryce carried around their wedding picture? She swallowed some now tepid chamomile, supposedly a cure for morning sickness. It left her watery and every bit as nauseated. “So you invited him to stay with us.”

  “Uh, well, yes.” Monk pushed a pile of sand around with his shoe. “It didn’t seem right sending him to the Finny Hotel, him being your son and all. I tried to call you, honey, really. I didn’t want to spring it on you out of the blue.”

  She looked at the crinkles around his eyes. No, he couldn’t have sent her son to the hotel. His big heart wouldn’t have allowed that. It was clear how much agony the decision inflicted on him. She squeezed his hand. “You did the right thing, and I’m not mad about it. But why did Bryce come here, Monk? Now, I mean. He didn’t even come for our wedding.” His absence hurt her more than she could put into words.

  “He didn’t say, but I got the feeling he’s had some trouble.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “I don’t know exactly. I expect he’ll get around to telling you.”

  She wasn’t so sure. The waves left ribbons of foam on the beach. Further down, an area of sand was blocked off with yellow tape. She shuddered and turned her eyes away.

  A crunch of gravel made them both turn. Dr. Soloski, dressed in sweats, huffed up the trail. When he saw them he turned off his iPod and slowed to jog in place. “Morning again. How’s Mr. Hernandez holding up?”

  “Alva’s fine, Dr. Soloski,” Ruth said. Once he figured out you didn’t steal his tooth and send it to Bangladesh, she thought with a smile. “I’ve never seen you take this path before.”

  He shot an uneasy look over his shoulder. “Oh, well, I thought I’d check out the view. I can’t get enough of coastal living.”

  Monk chuckled. “You’re a sucker for the fresh sea air?”

  “You bet. Cities aren’t for the likes of me. I avoid them like the plague.” His eyebrows creased. “Did you hear something?”

  They listened for a moment until they heard the sound of approaching feet.

  The dentist turned on his music and waved. “I’m off then. Talk to you soon.” He sprinted away.

  “He’s in an awful hurry,” Monk said.

  Five seconds later Ellen Foots careened down the trail. Her mane of hair was twisted into two stiff black ropes that protruded from the top of her scalp like the knobs on a giraffe’s head. She was dressed from neck to ankle in shiny green spandex.

  She pounded to a stop and looked around. “Where is he?”

  “Who?” Ruth said.

  “Dr. Soloski.”

  Monk beamed. “Why? Did you have a dental emergency, Ellen?”

  “Of course not. My teeth are in excellent condition. I use an ultrasonic cleaner and fluoride rinse every day. I justhappened to be out for a jog, and I thought I saw Dr. Soloski.”

  Through binoculars from her perch in the top of a tree, Ruth thought. “I didn’t know you were a runner.”

  She shuffled a bit, the gravel crunching under her sneakers. “I decided to take it up. A person can never be too healthy. The body is the temple, after all.” A flicker of movement in the distance caught her eye. “There he is.”

  Ellen darted off.

  “I hope he runs fast. He’s gonna need to break some sprinting records to outrun her.” Monk helped Ruth to her feet. “Home again, my love?”

  “Uh, no, er,
I think I have a rehearsal.”

  His thick eyebrow lifted. “Really? In view of the murder, I didn’t think there was anything to rehearse.”

  “I promised I’d check in again, anyway. Sandra and

  Ethan are meeting me at the hotel.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “That’s okay. You go on home and see if. . .if Bryce needs anything.”

  He wrapped her in a final hug. “I love you, Ruthy. It’s going to be okay. You’ll see.”

  She could feel his gaze as she headed toward the center of town.

  Sandra and Ethan sat in the lobby of the Finny Hotel, papers strewn on the oak table. The place was dark, a sharp contrast to the vibrant bougainvillea that painted the outside of the building with fluorescent orange and pink. Ruth took a deep breath to settle her stomach. “Good morning. I thought I’d come by and check on the schedule.”

  Sandra looked up from her clipboard. “Oh, hi, Ruth. Um, I really appreciate you coming all the way here but, you know, I don’t think we’re going to rehearse today. We’ve got some work to do.”

  Ethan pushed the wire rim glasses up his nose. “Sandy and I need to retool a bit. We’ve only got a week left to wrap this up before the next term starts, so we’ll start filming tomorrow maybe.”

  “Will that give you enough time to finish?”

  Sandra blinked. “Finish? Oh sure, sure.”

  “Who is going to run the camera?”

  “I will,” Ethan said. “I’m not as good as Reggie but I get by. It’s too much to find another guy at this point.”

  Ruth thought back to Indigo’s scrawled passages. “I read that the Triton has been excavated before. Did they find anything interesting?”

  Sandra gave her a sharp look. “Interesting? Not really. It was a coal transport so there wasn’t much to find. Why?”

  “I just wondered.”

  Ethan’s eyes narrowed. “There’s nothing on that boat but coal. Whatever artifacts there were have long since been removed or covered with barnacles.”

  Ruth wondered at his strong tone. “Are you going to take any more underwater footage? It seems so dangerous.”

  Ethan shook his head. “No, we’re not filming anything else in the ocean. We’ll work around it. Sandy will let you know when we’re going to rehearse again.” He turned back to the open laptop.

  Sandra wiggled her fingers in a good-bye.

  Ruth met Alva as she exited the hotel. “Howdy, sweet cheeks. Time for a snack. Want some candy?”

  She took the can opener from him and then the dentist’s shell while he searched his pockets and produced a bag of candy.

  “Here you go. Did I tell you old Alva would take care of you? Say, I checked the beach this morning but there wasn’t no more bodies.” He looked disappointed as he rooted around in his pockets, emerging with another small bag.

  “Thanks, Alva. You really are a gift from God.” She admired the play of afternoon sunshine on the pearlescent interior of the shell as she handed it back along with the can opener. “Don’t you think you should give this back to Dr. Soloski?”

  “Why? He didn’t have nothing to do with finding that can opener.”

  “Not the can opener, the shell.”

  “Give it back? Huh-uh. He told me to pick a prize. That there’s mine now.” He shoveled in a handful of candy corns. “Where are you headed?”

  She sighed. “Back home, I guess. My son is here.”

  He looked with wild eyes from her head to her stomach. “What? How’d it get out that quick? How come you’re still inflated?”

  “No, no. Not this baby. My son, Bryce. He’s a grown man now. You probably met him when he lived here a long time ago.”

  Alva screwed up his face. “Bryce, Bryce. Oh yeah. Serious little guy? Always playing by himself?”

  Ruth cringed. “Yes, that’s him.”

  “Does he still like to dig at the beach?”

  She had a sudden memory of Bryce as a little boy, holding a small plastic pail and shovel, solemnly scooping out holes in the sand. “I don’t know what he likes anymore, Alva. I guess it’s time for me to go find out.”

  Ruth tiptoed into the quiet house. Her husband was gone, she knew, busy at Monk’s Coffee and Catering. She listened for sounds of movement. Nothing but the tick of the grandfather clock. With a sigh of relief, she headed into the kitchen in search of orange juice.

  Bryce sat at the table, reading the paper. He looked up with eyes that reminded her so much of Phillip’s.

  Her breath caught for a moment, heart pounding in her chest. “Hello, Bryce.”

  He nodded. “Morning. Not much news here in Finny, is there?”

  “Not as much as Chicago, I imagine.”

  “There is an article about the man you found on the beach. It says the cause of death is under investigation. Is Jack handling the case?”

  She nodded.

  “I figured it was a diving accident. Those are rough waters, easy to lose your bearings.”

  “Yes. I sure wouldn’t want to dive there.” The kitchen melted into silence. “Um, do you want me to fix you some lunch?” It brought her back a couple of decades, when she was a doting mother, trying to do anything and everything for a spoiled little boy.

  “No thanks. I’m not hungry. I made myself some coffee. Hope that was okay.” He folded the newspaper into a precise rectangle.

  She wasn’t sure whether to sit at the table or take her juice to the other room. She settled for standing and sipping.

  He looked at her, his face an unreadable mask. “I didn’t know you were expecting.”

  Her face heated. “Oh, yes, I meant to tell you, but I just never managed to make the call. Things have been really crazy here.” The excuse sounded lame to her own ears.

  “When are you due?”

  “December.”

  “Oh.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “A baby, wow. That’s unusual for someone. . .in your phase of life.”

  She flushed. At least he hadn’t said old. “It is, but we’re both happy about it.” Happy and terrified beyond all reason.

  “Roslyn was pregnant, too.”

  The words startled her, as did the flood of emotion that they caused. “Bryce, that’s—” Her flutter of excitement was fleeting. “Was?”

  “She lost the baby at three months.”

  Ruth’s heart twisted at the tremor in his voice. “I’m so sorry.”

  He shrugged. “The doctor says it happens and most of the time they never know the reason.” He shook his head as if to clear the memory away. “Monk says you’re doing all right. I guess that means I’m going to have a brother or sister.”

  “One or the other. We didn’t want to know ahead.” She gulped some juice. “Um, how do you, uh, feel about that?”

  “I’m not sure. It doesn’t really matter how I feel about it anyway, does it?”

  She was not sure what to say in response so she settled on a change in topic. “So, what brings you to Finny?”

  “Roslyn.”

  “Are you vacationing here together?”

  “No. She left me.”

  Ruth coughed. “Roslyn left?”

  “Yeah. She met someone. A florist, if you can call him that.” He spat out the words. “The guy sells flowers out of a roadside shack. He rides a moped to work.”

  Her breath caught at the anger that was written in his clenched jaw and the deep crease in his forehead.

  Bryce sat ramrod straight in the chair. “The business failed, too.”

  The business, too? Bryce had taken on his wife’s family trucking company when they married. From the rare Christmas card, she gathered it had been doing well. Until now.

  There was something about his face, a streak of small child vulnerability mixed in with the anger, that gave her the sudden urge to wrap her grown boy in a hug. She knew it would not do, just as it had not satisfied him twenty years ago. She could not fix this problem for him and he wouldn’t want her to try.


  Instead, she laid a hand lightly on his arm. “I’m so sorry, Bryce, about everything, especially the baby.”

  He did not look at her.

  He did not move away.

  “Yeah,” he said, his voice awash in bitterness. “Me, too.”

  The sun mellowed its way into the hills. From her seat in the luscious pool of sunlight next to the worm beds, Ruth offered up a prayer of thanks. “Thank You, Lord, for this precious day. Thank You for letting this baby inside me have another day to grow and flourish. Please reach out Your healing hands to Bryce and help me to give him what he needs right now.”

  She hadn’t finished the amen when Monk opened the sliding door and ushered Roxie into the backyard. The woman blinked and rubbed under her nose with a red handkerchief. “I came for my worms. I’ve got a couple booked for a fishing expedition tomorrow, and I promised to provide the bait.”

  “That’s great.” Ruth searched through the white plastic tubs for Roxie’s. “How’s business?”

  She shrugged. “Not great. I’ve had a few folks book for this week and next, but it would be better if those collegiate types would leave.”

  Ruth found the container and handed it to Roxie. “Are they causing problems for you?”

  “Nothing terrible. It just makes me nervous, them slipping in and out of the water. My customers like to think they’re the only people allowed in the ocean at any given time. The happier they are, the better my business.”

  Ruth perked up. “You’ve seen Sandy and Ethan diving? When?”

  “Last two nights, just after sundown.”

  After sundown? “Were they taking pictures, do you think?”

  “I didn’t see a camera, only flashlights. They’re up to something. No one should be in the water late. That’s insanity. They didn’t learn a thing from their cameraman dying in those waters. People can be so stupid, especially when they’re young.”

  The door opened again, and Bryce stuck his head out. “Monk said to tell you dinner’s ready.” He shot Roxie a curious look. “Hello.”