Case of the Ostentatious Otters

by Jeffrey M. Poole

  Sherlock’s tongue flopped out and he panted contentedly. Watson whined once, as if to remind everyone that she helped, too. Jon patted her head and then looked over at me.

  “You have some amazing dogs, Mr. Anderson.”

  “Oh, trust me, I know it. They know it. All of Pomme Valley knows it.”

  “They really do,” Jillian confirmed, giving me a smile.

  I pointed at the dive log, “Well? Don’t keep us waiting. What’s the last entry? Does it say where he was diving?”

  Jon started flipping the pages, taking at least a dozen pages at a time as he rapidly searched for the last entry. Stopping at a page that was almost at the end of the book, Jon grunted once, and began to read to himself. After a few moments, his eyebrows lifted and he grunted again. Finished reading, he closed the book and looked at the group of people looking eagerly back at him.

  “It only says he was planning on going out into McAbee Bay,” the director glumly said. After a few moments later, a grin appeared. “But, it also says that he was diving in an undisclosed location, since one of his volunteers had insisted there was ‘something worth his while’ out there.”

  “One of his volunteers said that?” Meredith exclaimed. “Well, which one? Does it say?”

  Jon shook his head, “No, unfortunately. But, it won’t be that difficult to figure out.”

  “Why do you say that?” I asked.

  “Because, Jack says, and I quote, ‘she keeps insisting she found something that will impress me.’ He doesn’t say it, but I get the distinct impression that he did the dive only to humor her.”

  “How does this help us identify her?” I asked, confused.

  “I can answer that,” Kathy volunteered, raising a hand. “I know all the people who volunteer in this department. As such, I know Jack had at least six volunteers. Four of those volunteers are male. The other two are female.”

  “That surprises me,” I admitted. “I thought for sure that, from the sounds of things, all his volunteers would be female.”

  “A while back, they were,” Kathy admitted. “Then, one day, he called a meeting with myself and Heather, who oversees all the volunteers. He said he wanted to eliminate all his existing volunteers and start over. I didn’t know it at the time, but two of the volunteers were aggressively pursuing him, even though he was newly married. So, starting over, he carefully selected which volunteers would work in close proximity with him.”

  “That’s why they’re mostly male,” Jillian guessed. “To remove the possibility of temptation?”

  Kathy nodded, “Correct.”

  “If I do the math correctly,” I slowly began, “then that means there are still two more volunteers, and they were both women. How would you explain that?”

  Harry suddenly laughed out loud, “Hey, man. I can answer this one.”

  I nodded, “By all means.”

  “These two ladies? He figured they were harmless.”

  “He wasn’t attracted to them at all,” Julie translated. “Either that, or he felt there was no chance of anything ever happening.”

  “What are the names of the two female volunteers?” Jon asked, in a guarded voice.

  “Well, there’s Sherry VanZanten,” Kathy began. “Nice girl, even though she’s... umm... a bit quirky. And there’s the other girl, a junior from the local high school. She’s a minor, so I’ll leave her name out of this for now. Sweet kid. She has to be one of the hardest workers I have ever seen. She hasn’t graduated high school yet, but already knows what she wants to specialize in: cetacean biology.”

  “What kind of biology?” I asked, as I turned to Julie.

  “Whales,” Julie translated. “It sounds like she wants to work with whales.”

  Kathy nodded, “Correct. She’s volunteered for every whale watching expedition we have ever undertaken, and she’s made it expressly known that she wants to start her very own institute devoted to the preservation of whales.”

  “Which kinds?” I asked.

  Kathy shrugged, “All kinds.”

  “That’s impressive,” Jillian observed. “To be that young and focused, at the same time.”

  “Which one do you think he was diving with?” I asked. “Are both of them certified divers?”

  Jon looked over at Kathy, who nodded.

  “Both are certified deep water divers.”

  I whistled, impressed.

  “Deep water, huh? I never got that far in my own certification. I’ve only been down to about 35 feet or so.”

  “Deep water certification allows you to dive down to a depth of 100 feet,” Jon explained. “All of Jack Carlton’s volunteers were certified divers.”

  “So, it could be either of them,” I guessed. Just then, I snapped my fingers. “Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Sherry VanZanten? Isn’t that the name of the lady we found hiding in the bushes on the day of Jack’s death? Holy crap! How could I have forgotten that! Of course it’s her! Why else would she hide from us?”

  Jon turned to Meredith and Kathy.

  “Pull her contact information. We need to find out where she is. Plus, we’ll need to inform the police.”

  “I still have Officer Adolphson’s cell phone on my own cell,” I helpfully supplied. “I can call her and give her an update.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Anderson. Oh, and Zack? Please go out and buy your dogs two of the most expensive treats you can find for them and send me the bill. I owe them my thanks.”

  Once the four of us... damn. Did it again. Once the six of us were outside, I telephoned Mary and gave her an update. She didn’t seem surprised. In fact, she told me that Sherry VanZanten was already a person of interest, and after being interviewed for nearly two hours straight, she promptly left the station and vanished. She wasn’t answering her phone and she didn’t report in for her regular job, which was a paralegal.

  I should have listened to my gut instinct. Sherlock had caught Ms. VanZanten hiding in the bushes after Jack’s body had been discovered! I mean, how guilty could you get? And what had her excuse been? She was simply trying to compose herself and collect her thoughts? Because she had just learned about the death? I didn’t buy it. And, clearly, neither did the local police.

  Now that the police and Monterey Bay Aquarium had been alerted to the dangers of Ms. VanZanten, we decided our good deed for the day had been done and returned to the hotel. I wrapped the leashes tightly around my hand and angled for the hotel lobby, only the dogs had other plans. Sherlock immediately braked, bringing me to a swift, albeit unpleasant stop. Rubbing the kinks out of my already sore shoulder, I looked back at Sherlock and saw that both of them were sitting on the ground, staring straight at me, as if they couldn’t believe what they were seeing.

  “What? What’s with you two? Knock it off. Come on, it’s been a long day. We need to...”

  “Awwoooooo!” Sherlock howled.

  “What’s the matter with him?” Jillian worriedly asked.

  “I’m not sure,” I said. I tried giving the dogs a friendly, but firm, tug on the leash, indicating I wanted to keep moving in the same direction we had been moving before we all stopped. However, as before, Sherlock refused to be swayed. Then, both dogs simultaneously rose to their feet and turned to look back at the nearby beach. Then I heard another whine. About ready to scold Watson, I suddenly realized that Sherlock was the one who had made that noise, not my timid, little female.

  “Was Sherlock the one who just whined?” Harry asked, amazed. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard him whine like that.”

  “That makes two of us,” I agreed. “Sherlock? What’s the matter? Let me guess. You want to play with your little friend down at the beach? That’s probably not a good idea, pal. I’ve recently learned that those otters can be aggressive. Sure, they’re playing with you now, but... and you’re both ignoring me.”

  Both corgis had turned to face the beach and were now sitting with their backs to me.

  “Harry? Julie? Care to go for a walk? It sounds like
there’s something Sherlock wants us to see, so I’m going to take them outside for a bit. Jillian, would you care to join me?”

  Jillian slipped her arm through mine, “Why, I thought you’d never ask. Want me to take Watson?”

  I nodded, “Sure. Here.”

  With one dog each, the four of us headed towards the water. However, before we could reach the water’s edge, the dogs pulled us to a stop. Then, with their furry ears sticking straight up, reminding me of two miniature German Shepherds, Sherlock briefly turned to Watson before resuming his trek, only now, we were angling north.

  “Any idea where we’re going?” Jillian quietly asked me.

  “No freakin’ clue,” I admitted. “They want to show us something, so let’s see what they...”

  Jillian suddenly held a finger to my lips, silencing me instantly. Then, placing the same finger on hers, we squatted low and quietly approached some large rocks that were nearby. The dogs, somehow sensing we were now approaching in stealth, fell silent and followed us.

  Then I heard it. Two voices, and they were coming from nearby. One was male, and the other female. And, from the sounds of it, they both sounded young.

  Anxious to see what was going on, I carefully peered around the boulder and studied the scene in front of me. As we had guessed, there were two people down at the water. Both had buckets, and both were holding various pieces of raw seafood in their hands. Out in the water, watching intently, was the raft of otters.

  “Zachary!” Jillian quietly whispered in my ear. “Look! The otters are holding more coins! Whoever those two people are, they’re trying to get the coins from the otters!”

  TEN

  The four of us crouched behind a group of boulders and watched the two people, one man, and one woman, unsuccessfully try to relieve the otters of their prized shellfish smashers. The young otter from before, evidently Sherlock’s new best friend, was there, holding a coin, and staring impassively at the couple on the beach. The duo continued to throw bits of seafood at the otters, but only succeeded in driving the otters further from the shore.

  “Why isn’t this working?” the male demanded. “You said all we had to do was feed the otters. Well, this isn’t working, is it?”

  I cocked my head. The voice sounded young. Just then, the female turned to reach for the second bucket, affording us a look at her face. She was tall, had her long straight brown hair gathered up in a ponytail, and was slim. Her face had high cheekbones, was riddled with acne, and I caught a glimpse of metal in her mouth. Did that mean…? Yes, she was wearing braces!

  “This kid is young,” Harry whispered.

  “Around 15 or 16,” Jillian quietly guessed. “It looks like they’re trying to do what we did: bribe the otters with food so that they’ll abandon their ‘rocks.’ The problem is, they’re only driving them away.”

  “How do they even know to do that, man?” Harry whispered.

  I looked at Harry and gave him a thumbs up.

  “And that is the million dollar question.”

  “I wonder why it isn’t working for them,” Julie wondered aloud.

  “They’re too impatient,” I quietly observed. “They have to gain the otters’ trust. The raft needs to know they’re there to provide food.”

  “They know something is up,” Julie guessed. “That’s why none of them have taken any of the food, nor have they dropped any rocks. I counted ten otters who were carrying coins when we arrived. That number is now up to eleven.”

  “Twelve,” Jillian quietly corrected.

  “What do you want us to do, man?” Harry wanted to know.

  I saw that of the four of us, everyone was holding their cell phones, except for me. The intent was clear. One of us should be calling the police. Unfortunately, Murphy’s Law put in its usual appearance and bit us squarely on the ass. Harry’s phone chimed just then. Loudly.

  “Did you hear that?” the male voice exclaimed. “Somebody is here!”

  An angry male face appeared over the rocks and scowled at us. I placed his age around the same as that of the girl’s. These kids were no older than 16, tops.

  “There’s a group of people over here,” the boy called. “And they’re spying on us!”

  And just like that, the boy produced a snub-nosed revolver and pointed it at us.

  “Get out here, all of you. Now!”

  The girl was staring at us, as though we had pointed ears and were making the Vulcan peace signs with our hands.

  “Wh-who are you? What are you doing here?”

  I threw a dark look at Harry as we all reluctantly walked around the boulders to confront our adversaries. I pointed at Harry’s cell.

  “Explain that. Did someone text you just now?”

  Harry held up his phone and smiled sheepishly, “Rugby scores. It’s the playoffs, man! I get text alerts whenever certain countries play. Hey, man, don’t balk technology. Embrace it!”

  ”I’m gonna embrace it all right,” I vowed.

  “Who are you?” the girl asked again.

  “We should be asking you the same thing,” I stated. I looked at the boy and down at the gun he was holding. “Do you mind? Put that away before someone gets hurt.”

  “Don’t think I know how to use this?” the kid challenged. “I’ve had plenty of practice with it. My father takes me shooting every other weekend.”

  “When he has visitation rights?” Harry guessed.

  The gun swung toward Harry.

  “Shut up! You don’t know anything about me!”

  “Other than hitting that nail on the head,” I mumbled.

  Harry, overhearing, gave me a quick thumbs-up.

  “Who are you people?” the boy demanded. “What are you doing here?”

  “How did you find us?” the girl added.

  “We’ll make a deal with you,” Jillian calmly began. “You tell us who you are, and we’ll tell you who we are. And, we’ll even throw in what we’re doing here, okay?”

  I glanced down at the dogs, surprised they weren’t barking their fool heads off. Usually, in these situations, which I’m sorry to say, have been happening with an unpleasant increase in frequency, the dogs would be growling, barking, or snarling. But this time? Psshtt. This time, the dogs weren’t even growling. In fact, looking down at them, I noticed they had settled onto the ground and were watching us, as though we were having a pleasant conversation. Why weren’t the little snots barking?

  The girl finally nodded, “Fine. My name is Beth. Beth Williams. This is Michael... er, Mike.”

  “Does Mike have a last name?” Jillian politely inquired.

  “Don’t tell them my last name,” Mike growled.

  “A deal is a deal,” Jillian reminded Beth.

  “Mike Thompson. He’s my boyfriend.”

  “How old are you, Beth?” Jillian asked.

  Beth frowned and waggled a finger, “No, that’s not the arrangement. You need to tell me who you are and how you found us.”

  Jillian nodded, “You’re right. You’ve upheld your end of the deal, so I’ll honor mine. My name is Jillian Cooper. That’s my boyfriend over there, holding the dogs. His name is Zachary Anderson. Over there, with the beard, is Harrison Watt and standing next to him is his wife, Julie. They’re friends of ours. As for what we’re doing here, well, we’re on vacation.”

  A loud bark made everyone jump.

  Jillian smiled and looked down at Sherlock.

  “I’m sorry, boy. I didn’t mean to forget you. Beth? Down there, with the orange, black, and white coat is Sherlock. Watson is the other corgi.”

  Beth smiled fleetingly, “Sherlock and Watson. That’s cute.”

  “What’s the matter with you?” Mike snapped. “They’re stalling for time! I should just take care of them right now!”

  Okay, that ought to earn the kid some barks and growls from the dogs. But, did they? Nope. In fact, it looked as though Sherlock wanted to go over to the two kids and give them a proper introduction.

&n
bsp; “What’s wrong with you?” I quietly hissed at the dogs. “Why aren’t you barking?”

  “Smart dogs,” Mike coolly returned. “They know if they act up, they’ll get shot.”

  I frowned. If you so much as threaten my dogs, you miserable little puke, then I’ll...

  Jillian thumped me in the gut. She must have seen the look on my face and correctly guessed what I had been thinking. I scowled at Mike, but not before looking at Jillian and giving her a reassuring smile. I won’t do anything yet, my dear. And I stress the word ‘yet.’

  A thought occurred. I pointed at the nearly empty buckets of seafood.

  “How did you learn about what we did here yesterday?” I wanted to know. “I didn’t think that was common knowledge.”

  It was the girl’s turn to look surprised.

  “Wait, that was you? You’re the ones who were able to get the coins from the otters?”

  “Beautiful,” Mike said, as he brandished his gun. “If you did it before, then you can do it again. Make the otters give us their rocks.”

  “How do you even know about them?” Julie wanted to know. “Do you have some type of connection to the aquarium?”

  “I work there,” Beth returned. “Well, I mean, I volunteer there.”

  “You’re the minor,” I guessed, as a few pieces of the puzzle clicked into place. “We just heard about you earlier today. You obviously must have been at the aquarium and overheard us, although we certainly didn’t see you.”

  “There were plenty of places to hide in there,” Harry reminded me. “And, an aquarium that size always has running water, loud pumps, and so forth. You wouldn’t have been able to see her or hear her, bro.”

  “How did you know where to find us?” Mike asked, growing angry again. “No one knew we were here.”

  I calmly pointed down at the dogs, “They did. We’re here because of them. Whether they heard you, or they smelled you, it’s irrelevant. They knew you were here.” Right about then, I stared down at the nearly empty bucket that was closest to me, then out at the water, where the otters were floating, and then back at the girl. “You’re one of Jack Carlton’s volunteers. So, does that mean you’re the one who killed him?”