Radical Regatta!

by Anna Celeste Burke

  “Umpty-umps”

  “How should I know!” Greg replied and pushed open the door with the toe of his Topsider. I caught a glimpse of the space inside. It appeared to be much larger than I’d imagined.

  “What is it, Archie?” He was straining at his leash and whining. Then he barked.

  “Anyone in there?” Greg asked and went up the steps into the open doorway. “Is everything okay?” As he asked that question, a fist punched him in the jaw, and he tumbled backward. I winced at the crack his head made when he hit the deck. A man in a wetsuit, with a diving mask on top of his head, bolted past him onto the back of the boat.

  The guy was as skinny as a rail. He wore a diving cap. so I couldn’t see his hair—if he had any. When he looked at us, though, I recognized him even without the spectacles. Brien did, too.

  “Stop! Teddy!” Brien hollered and bounded onto the deck so hard I could have sworn the large boat moved in the water. By then, the diver already had his mask in place. He leaped up onto the edge of the boat as if he’d used a springboard and balanced there for a split second. As Brien made a grab for him, he dove into the open water on that side of the boat.

  “He’s already underwater,” Brien said. Greg was moving, so that was a good sign. On his way to check on Greg, Brien stopped in the doorway Teddy had sprung from seconds earlier. “Someone’s been sitting in Papa Bear’s chair and trashed it!”

  “Mama Bear’s chair too,” I added as Archie and I slipped up behind Brien and peered into the opening. At least Archie wasn’t stressed out anymore. I took that to mean there weren’t other desperados hiding inside waiting to pounce on us. We didn’t dare go in since it was clear the boat was now a crime scene. The gorgeous interior was no longer gorgeous. “What a shame!”

  “Are you okay?” I asked when Greg groaned. He was still lying on the ground.

  “Yes. Call the police, please.” He nodded as he struggled to sit up.

  “My plan exactly,” I said, showing him that I already had my phone in my hand. “Do you want them to send EMTs?”

  “No, I’m fine.” Then he eyed us suspiciously from where he sat leaning against the side of the boat. “Who’s Teddy?”

  “I wish we could answer that question for you.” I dialed the direct number I have for Bernie Mitchum. Before it even rang, I heard Mitchum bellow. Was he stalking us?

  “Not you two—again! Didn’t I already have enough to do today?”

  “Yo, Mitchum, what are you doing here?”

  “I should ask you that question. Unfortunately, I know the answer, though, don’t I? You two are playing Sherlock and Watson, aren’t you?”

  “More like Bones and Booth,” Brien replied and then shut up.

  “Seriously, Mitchum. My call to you didn’t go through, so who called you?”

  “Cary and Mona Simpson. They called dispatch and said they’d seen a man getting onto Dr. Elliot Mason’s boat. After talking to a couple of people, they felt they’d better report it to the police. Deb’s on duty today, and she called me right away when Mason’s name came up.”

  “They’re not talking about Teddy—the man who just jumped overboard after he assaulted Greg.” Brien pointed into the water and then at the man on the deck. “They saw Earl Gardner getting onto the boat at the crack of dawn.”

  “No way!” Greg said and stopped sliding his teeth around, trying to test his jaw.

  “Give me a minute,” Mitchum said. “Miller, cordon off this area, will you, please? Call and get a forensics team out here, too, along with EMTs. Pronto!” Then he turned to Greg.

  “What was Earl Gardner doing on Mason’s boat?”

  “I didn’t know he boarded the boat. Gardner told me he wanted to search for a key he may have dropped somewhere along the pier. I checked the log, and there wasn’t any entry saying that anyone had turned in a key. He’s on the regatta organizing committee, so I figured it was fine to let him look for it.”

  “Cary and Mona figured it was fine too. That’s why they didn’t call the police right away,” I responded. “Gardner was on the boat Thursday morning for a photo op with a party of people who sound like PR reps and race organizers.”

  Mitchum was on the deck with us now. He did his antsy little two-step while I filled him in on the rest of the conversation with the couple who’d reported the Masons’ uninvited guest after speaking to us. His bushy mustache went into action as I spoke.

  “When Kim says a party of people, she means it.” Then Brien told him what Cary had said about the expensive champagne he saw Mason’s wife dumping into the water.

  “Teddy must have boarded the boat in a sneakier way. He was wearing a diving suit, but his facemask was up long enough that I can assure you, Mitchum, that it was Teddy the phony reporter.”

  “I saw him, too. It was definitely the same guy who tried to barge into the animal hospital,” Brien added. “By that punch he threw, I’d say he was the guy on the beach with Dr. Mason, too. This time, he connected. Greg, here, says he’s okay, but he hit his head hard. I’m surprised there’s no dent in the deck.”

  “Me, too.” Greg was rubbing his head but laughed at Brien. “Teddy, or whoever he was, did a job on Mason’s lounge. None of us went in there, so we can’t tell you how much damage he did anywhere else.” Mitchum moved over to get a good look at the interior.

  “If Teddy was looking for something, he may have missed his chance if Earl Gardner beat him to it,” I said. Brien nodded. Mitchum walked away from the open doorway, shaking his head in disgust.

  “We also didn’t check to see if anyone else is in there—dead or alive,” Brien added.

  Hmm, dead. Why hadn’t that occurred to me? I wondered.

  8 Not a Crime Scene

  Brien’s last remark got to Mitchum. He and a second officer acted quickly to make sure there wasn’t anyone else on board the boat. We weren’t allowed to follow him, which really ticked me off. After all we’d done for him! Not to mention that he’d eaten our fish tacos and brownies.

  I could understand that he didn’t want to contaminate the crime scene. Still, I felt certain that if Brien and I had tagged along, we would have come across some clue that could give us a better idea of what someone was searching for—maybe two someones—if both Earl and Teddy were on the boat for the same reason. Mitchum wasn’t in there long at all. When he returned, he was grim-faced.

  “There’s no body in there, but there’s blood.”

  “Where?” I asked.

  “The master bedroom. It’s not much, but who knows if there’s more elsewhere? It’s like the inside of a dumpster in there!”

  “Is it bigger than a breadbox?” Mitchum frowned at me before he figured out what I was getting at.

  “Something small, I’d say, by some of the items examined during the search—like toothpaste tubes.”

  “Ooh, diamonds maybe. I saw that in a movie once.” Moments later, we were ushered off the boat as crime scene investigators and EMTs came aboard. I was glad to see the EMTs. Despite Greg’s protests, he didn’t look well.

  “No more trouble!” Mitchum ordered as we left.

  “Geez! You’d think this was our fault, wouldn’t you?” Archie was delighted to get away from the boat. He’d sat quietly next to me while we spoke to Mitchum. Every so often, though, he’d hear something—and would pop up and look around. “Jet ski!”

  “What?” Brien asked.

  “I was trying to recall what seemed to set off Archie while we were on the boat. I’m pretty sure it was the sound of a jet ski or something like it that he reacted to.”

  “I’ll try to keep an eye on him. He sure knew something was up before Teddy punched Greg and knocked him down.”

  “Do you think Teddy’s the one who threw Archie off a boat and he whined and barked because he recognized his scent?”

  “If I’d been able to grab him before he jumped, we might have figured that out. He could have just been reacting to the fact that someone was moving around inside before
poor Greg got walloped. You know what this means, though?” I stopped and looked at Brien as we exited the marina area in which Mason’s boat sat.

  “Teddy knows Archie is with us, doesn’t he?”

  “Yep.”

  “Maybe we should have left Archie at home.”

  “We talked about it and decided he might not be any safer there than with us. You’re like his security blanket. He wouldn’t have been happy if you’d left without him.”

  “I know. Of course, for all Teddy knows, we could be returning Archie to the animal hospital.” Brien and I both shared a paranoid moment and scanned the area around us. I recalled that rustling I’d heard earlier in the bushes. Could Teddy be watching us? “Mitchum needs to step up his game. If we didn’t have to do all his work for him, he wouldn’t keep bumping into us at another of his crime scenes.”

  “Calling us Sherlock and Watson sure was a step up for us from knuckleheads.”

  “True, but I like Bones and Booth better.” I gave him a kiss to make sure he believed me. Archie loved the smooching! I leaned over, grabbed both of his soft furry ears, and gave him a smooch, too. “We’re lucky we got out of there in time to keep our appointment at the penthouse suite which Mitchum assured us is NOT a crime scene.”

  “It was great Willow could set this up for us. She’s made lots of friends since she started working in the spa—even after she married Mick.”

  “Willow’s working on him. Maybe we’ll eventually see him the way she does.” Brien looked skeptical as he spoke again.

  “Let’s get this done and then go home and eat lunch. I want to check out the jet skis and see what makes them sound the way they do. Archie didn’t mind the motor on the dinghy at all.”

  “Or he was too weak to react after swimming all that way. He’s had plenty of exercise and adventure for one day. I want to get him home and let him rest. After lunch, I’m going to see what else I can find out about Earl Gardner. I wonder if he’s a gambler, like Mason.”

  We picked up the pace and headed for the main entrance on the beach side of the resort hotel. It didn’t take long before we walked into the sprawling lobby. Lena Denton, one of the supervisors in housekeeping, joined us right away once we asked to speak to her.

  “Wow!” I said when we entered the penthouse suite. “This is amazing.”

  “Almost as great as that place where we stayed when we were looking for Frank. That was an entire house, though.”

  Even though the suite wasn’t a house, it was as big as one. A lanai ran along the back and wrapped around the corner. That way you got ocean views as well as views of the woods and hills. The Bell Tower at the monastery pointed skyward from amid the dense forest that encompassed the monastery chapel, living quarters, vineyard, and gardens.

  Mitchum was right that this was no crime scene. I’m not sure what I’d expected. No one appeared to have searched the place or vandalized it. Not a speck of dust or a drop of blood was anywhere to be seen.

  “No one has paid Mama and Papa Bear a visit here.” Brien whispered as we walked through the rooms with Archie on his leash.

  “That’s sort of what I was thinking.” Then I asked Lena a question.

  “Did the police check for fingerprints?”

  “I’m not sure, but they weren’t here very long. I didn’t see any of those people from the county wearing jackets with CSI on the back and carrying the kits they haul around with them.”

  “When was the last time someone cleaned up in here?” Brien asked.

  “The police wanted to know that, too, and I checked the log. It’s been two days since that Do Not Disturb sign was put on their door. Three if you count today. The room was cleaned thoroughly and restocked with towels and toiletries. Nothing appears to have been touched since then. You can tell by the wilted flowers, no one’s freshened them. Everything’s the way it would have been after it was cleaned on Thursday. Nothing’s been used. There aren’t any dirty towels, no trash, or soap in the shower.”

  “Nothing?” I asked. “What about the Masons’ own personal items?”

  “Their personal items are gone. Everything like their wallets, keys, cellphones, watches and other jewelry—unless they left items in the wall safe or in the vault downstairs. There’s no makeup, lotions, aspirin, or prescription medicine in the bathroom.”

  “That could be a good sign,” Brien suggested.

  “I heard one of the police officers say that,” Lena responded. “He said kidnappers don’t usually let you pack an overnight bag. As you can see, the closets are loaded with their clothing. One of the closets in the guest suite also contains their clothing. The drawers are still full.”

  “May I?” Lena shrugged indifferently. I opened a drawer. The underwear and other items were better organized than many clothing stores I’d visited. Especially the high-end boutiques Jessica had taken me to when she was on a shopping spree. Someone was a neat freak.

  “To be honest, I’m not sure if I could tell if some of their clothing was missing unless an inventory had been taken in advance. There are dozens of pairs of shoes in these closets, alone. Lots of handbags, formal evening wear, in addition to the sportier attire that’s in here.” Several pairs of golf shoes on a shelf in the large walk-in closet caught my eye.

  “How about golf clubs or other equipment—are they in here somewhere?”

  “They keep those items in the closet near the front door. If you follow me, I’ll show you.” Lena walked out of the room, and I followed. When I reached the door, I paused, waiting for Brien.

  Brien had taken out a pencil, and I thought he was about to write down a word he’d just heard. Instead, he bent over and began rubbing his pencil point sideways. I’d seen sleuths do that many times in detective movies. He didn’t say anything but tore the sheet of paper from the notepad next to the phone, and then caught up with me.

  “What did you find?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure,” he replied. Then Brien asked Lena a question as he hustled after her.

  “Does Mrs. Mason play golf, too?” he asked. When we caught up with Lena, she already had the closet door open. She stood there, puzzling about what she saw in the closet. Since she wasn’t screaming, I figured it couldn’t be a dead body.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “What was it is more like it. That’s what I’m trying to remember. When I inspected this closet a couple of times after the women under my supervision had cleaned the room, something was in that spot.” Brien and I opened the door wide enough that we could see what Lena was pointing at.

  The closet was loaded with two sets of golf clubs—one with pink fluffy covers on them, which answered Brien’s question for me. Mason’s wife golfs, too. Tennis rackets were in there, helmets like you’d use while riding bicycles, a yoga mat, bags, and boxes. One corner was empty. Then, Lena snapped her fingers.

  “Dr. Mason’s medical kit! He left me a snippy note addressed to housekeeping for ‘whoever’s in charge’ to tell the maids his medical kit is ‘hands off.’ When one of them brought the note to me, I came in here right away to check it out. She explained that she had no idea what it contained but had moved it to vacuum because sand from a pair of shoes had spilled on the floor near it.”

  “I wonder why he brought it with him?” Brien asked.

  “When I apologized and explained why it had been moved, he told me to make sure it didn’t happen again. He also said something about what a tragedy it would be if there was trouble during the regatta and he was unable to help someone because a maid had dropped his bag while vacuuming.”

  “I suppose if there was a boating accident, it could be all-hands-on-deck to attend to the team member or others involved.”

  “That doesn’t explain where it is now, or where the doctor is. He can’t lend a hand if he and his medical kit aren’t in attendance at the events. I know the race doesn’t start for two more days, but practice runs are already underway.”

  “Thanks, Lena. Will you please ca
ll us if the Masons show up? Archie’s a fine dog, and we’re happy to have him around, but they must miss him.”

  “Well, Dr. Mason might miss him, but I doubt his wife does.”

  “She didn’t like the dog?” I asked.

  “No! One of the housekeepers was very upset because she said the woman had put the dog in the master closet while her husband was out. When I went to the room with an excuse so I could check on the poor animal, the doctor had returned. Unexpectedly, I’d say by the way they were screaming at each other.” Then Lena lowered her voice. “He threatened to lock her in the closet if he caught her doing that again. I’m almost certain I heard her slap him! Maybe the dog ought to stay lost.”

  Archie had been remarkably quiet the entire time we were in the suite. I wondered if he’d learned to do that to keep from irritating Goldilocks. I tried to hide my anger as we thanked Lena and asked her to please notify us if the Masons turned up.

  “Angela Mason is quite a piece of work, isn’t she?” I said as soon as we were in the lobby and alone again.

  “Their marriage isn’t ‘just right,’ is it? If Mama Bear threw Archie off the boat, she wouldn’t have done it if Papa Bear was still alive and kicking.”

  “Or passed out, drunk or drugged. You’re probably right that he’s dead, or Dr. Mason would be bellowing at the top of his lungs about his missing dog.”

  “Where’s Goldilocks?” Brien asked.

  “That’s what I want to know. A stunning blond with a nasty temper is bound to make a scene, sooner rather than later. Not to mention, if hubby’s dead, she can’t claim his assets unless she comes up with a body and a good explanation for what happened to him.”

  “I agree. Unless she’s loaded with cash, she won’t be able to get by for long without using a credit card or making a withdrawal. Let’s hope Mitchum has put alerts on all of their accounts.”

  “I’m going to call him again and tell him what we learned at the suite that’s ‘not a crime scene.’ Detectives ought to rely on gossip more than they do.” I placed my call as I said that.

  “Archie is so quiet,” Brien said while I waited for the detective to answer my call. “This whole place must give him the creeps or depress him.”