A Merry Christmas Anniversary Mystery Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery #9 (Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery Series)

by Anna Celeste Burke

  "Stacy, I can't stay cooped up in here any longer. Let's go meet the people who survived that blast. I'd like to have all their names and be able to thank them for the work they've done before we speak about them to the press."

  "It would be wonderful to have a quote or two from them about how the safety hub saved them. Let's go!"

  "Not me, you two. I'm worn out. I'm grateful that more people aren't dead, but I'm not ready to see what a few horrible people have done to New Arcadia. Maybe when Max returns, I'll have the courage to do it."

  Stacy and I were out the door in minutes. We had no trouble finding an Arcadia Kart to drive to the site, then I paused.

  "It's at the opposite end of the property. I guess we should just head that direction and look for a big hole."

  "Sound's good to me. We might get stopped by someone before we get too close, but I don't see how we can get lost," Stacy replied.

  "Can I help you?" A young woman asked.

  "We're on our way to the site where the rescuers are working to bring up some of our team members who sheltered in the control room near the blast site," I replied.

  "You're Georgie Shaw, aren't you?" she asked.

  "Yes," I replied as alarms went off. "Have we met?"

  "No, but I've seen you at parties and banquets in Irvine. I was also your driver during a previous visit to New Arcadia."

  "Now, I recall. That's why you look so familiar to me."

  "I'm Stacy, head of the company's PR division. We're holding a press conference in a couple of hours where we'll announce the good news about survivors. Georgie and I wanted to meet them before we talk about them behind their backs," Stacy quipped.

  "Nice to meet you, Stacy. From my name tag, you can see that I'm Gerry. I'm on my way to the site if you want to follow me. You're going to have to give that little go-cart all you can to keep up," she replied, smiling as a dimple appeared in one cheek.

  "I'll do my best," I said. "I guess we should buckle up."

  Before Stacy could ask how I hit a button on the dashboard, and seatbelts snaked over our laps. I checked mine to make sure it was secure.

  "All set!"

  Gerry's ride was a sleek looking motorcycle. She was hauling a compact trailer behind it. The 'flyby' bike had earned its name because it was fast. I hoped the load she hauled behind her would slow her down enough that we could keep up.

  "Hang on," I told Stacy as Gerry took off. I nudged the smart-kart forward and then pushed the pedal to the floor. We almost flew too. Stacy squealed. Gerry knew her way around and took paths almost on the diagonal to our destination.

  The air whipped through my hair, which was delightful. This newest version of the smart kart was smooth as silk as we raced over the paths Max had created for these small electric vehicles, bicycles, and pedestrians. A few times, we had to slow to handle the zigzags along the route, but we kept up with Gerry.

  When we grew close to the site, Gerry led us to an opening in fencing around the entrance to the tunnels leading underground. The fences continued and wrapped around the sinister-looking gash in the earth. The blast site was farther away from the tunnel entrance than it had appeared to be from a distance.

  As soon as Gerry checked in, they let her pass. Then, the officer spoke to someone on a mic attached to his uniform. I wondered if I was going to have to pull rank to gain admission to the site. Then I saw Frank and Jack wave at us, and the officer let us pull up to the entrance.

  "You'll need to pull to the left and park your vehicle. I hope you two are wearing sensible shoes because it's still a mess. Most of the debris is small, but you don't want to land on it."

  "Thank you, officer. We'll be careful. Thanks for the warning, but we're not in heels."

  I did as he asked and parked the cart. When I climbed out of it, I gave it a little pat. Stacy caught me and laughed.

  "That thing can move!"

  "You're just in time if you came to see our survivors come to the surface," Frank said as he greeted us. "It's still a tight squeeze to get them out of the room, but they can do it."

  "That's wonderful," Stacy said, introduced herself, and explained her role. "Is everyone in good shape?"

  "We sent a medic in first before bringing them out. She checked everyone over. One person took a knock on the head. They all have cuts and bruises, but nothing's broken, and no one was shot. They're hungry and thirsty, which isn't a surprise. Gerry just delivered sandwiches and cold drinks and snacks."

  "Jack said there were five people squeezed into the room," I said. "Are they all control room crew members?"

  "Four of them are," Gerry replied. "The fifth is a tunnel inspector who was doing last-minute checks before Max, and his guests arrived. When he realized there was trouble, he ran to the control room. Apparently, he tried to grab Max and was hit with the butt of a gun. The crew dragged him into the control room just as the rumbling began. The armed man hit the inspector on the head, grabbed Max, and took off for the tunnel stairs."

  "Do you know more about who tried to get into the control room and why?" I asked as Frank led us to a tent that had been set up for the survivors.

  Inside the tent, gurneys had been set up with makeshift curtains that could be closed for privacy. EMTs stood or sat on folding chairs. Gerry was waiting nearby with food and drinks. Jack suddenly entered the tent with the first dirty and disheveled-looking man. He wore a tunnel inspector's badge.

  "Hi, you two. I guess you couldn't wait for me to call you with the news," Jack said.

  "No, we couldn't."

  "We wanted to check on our heroes before we speak to the public about how they're doing." Stacy's remark drew a laugh from the tunnel inspector. Then he held the side of his head, and EMTs helped him sit and then stretch out on a gurney before raising it from the ground.

  "Sorry not to thank everyone for rescuing me, but I have a rip-roaring headache. If you're looking for heroes, they're all around us," he said. "It's nice to be let out of the sardine can, but I sure could use a couple of aspirin."

  "We're going to take care of that for you after confirming that your vitals are okay and getting a better look at the bump on your head."

  "That idiot hit me. I should have reported him before for being in the tunnels."

  "Quiet while we check your blood pressure and respiration," the EMT said in a calm, firm voice.

  "You recognized the guy who hit you with the gun?" I asked, unable to keep my mouth shut. He didn't reply until the EMT nodded his head, giving him permission to speak.

  "I sure did. I understand Kenneth O'Rourke got himself killed before he could get away. My guess is the older guy barking at them was done with Kenneth and the sniveling little weasel with him. While they were squabbling, I grabbed Max and tried to get into the control room. That's when I got hit on the head."

  "That was an act of courage. Was Max okay?"

  "Ouch!" he yelped. "Max was quiet and a little wobbly, but he was on his feet, and I didn't see blood on him anywhere. Sorry I couldn't hang onto him."

  "Thanks for trying," Stacy said.

  "Whoa, what did you give me, doc? That worked like a charm," he suddenly said.

  "Can we get your name, Sir?" Stacy asked. "We'd like to thank you, publicly, when we announce that you and the rest of the sardines survived."

  "You sure can," he replied, chuckling. While Stacy got his name and chatted with him, the EMTs cleared the way to roll him out of there.

  "Hey, are you cheating the hero out of lunch?"

  "You need to go get your head examined," the EMT quipped. "I don't believe the idiot who hit you cracked your skull, but we don't take chances with our heroes. They'll feed you at the hospital, promise."

  "Don't worry. I'm going to make it up to you. You and your fellow sardines are going to get treated to the best dinner you've ever had," I said.

  "Will Larry fix it?"

  "If that's what you want, you can count on it." He settled back onto the gurney and gave me a thumbs-up as they w
heeled him out of the tent.

  "There's an ambulance waiting," Jack said. "He's the only one the medics have insisted they're taking to the hospital. They've urged them all to go and get their blood drawn to make sure they weren't exposed to dangerous fumes from the diesel fuel and other junk used to set off the explosions."

  "I'm sorry I butted in like that," I said. "I guess you've already debriefed them since he knew Kenneth was dead."

  "We spoke to them using Hardy's device while they waited for the door to open wide enough to get out," Jack replied. He lowered his voice as we heard voices outside the tent. "They're in no condition to give us formal statements, but we've learned a few things."

  "Like what?" I asked as the next survivor, a young woman, was brought into the tent. Behind her, a man was being led inside, wearing the same one-piece control-room uniform the woman had on. They were both led to gurneys. Stacy made a beeline for the young woman as soon as the EMT was checking her vital signs. She reached out a hand, and Stacy took it. Jack stepped in the opposite direction, moving farther away from anyone who might be in earshot.

  "Please tell me you've figured out and where Max and the others have been taken," I almost begged.

  14 The Negativity Bias Boondoggle

  "They were wearing the green emblem as a badge, but I'm not convinced that had anything to do with their plot. A member of the control room team gave us a good description of the 'older guy.' In his fifties, he's bald, wore jeans and a plaid flannel work shirt, under a jacket with that logo stuck on it. He cussed out the two younger men when Max walked in on them and again when the tunnel and control room began to shake."

  "What did he say about Max?"

  "There's a little disagreement about that. One person said the taller of the two young men, who we now know was Kenneth O'Rourke, was ordered to get him out of there before he was out cold, and they had to haul him up the stairs. Others didn't hear the 'out cold' part. They also weren't sure if Kenneth or the other guy was told to get Max out of there."

  "That sounds as if they'd drugged him, but he was still alive. That must explain how he was able to leave the cufflink."

  "Frank and I agree about that, which is hopeful." He stared at my anxious face, and I nodded.

  "What about the other young man?" I asked as the last two survivors were brought into the tent.

  "They agreed he was a strange one. In the middle of an effort to invade the control room and keep them from calling out, he became fixated on all the buttons and dials. The crew members told him not to touch anything, and Kenneth grabbed him. Then the two of them struggled like a couple of kids. Kenneth fired several shots. At least two bullets hit the control room equipment. The ruckus gave the crew leader—that's him bringing up the rear—time to issue the mayday. Then he popped the door open to the safety hub and locked themselves inside," Jack said in a quiet tone.

  "I'm so glad they're all alive. I hope they can come up with more details that will help identify the other two men with Kenneth."

  "We found a match to the tire tracks. Like the fuel truck and the other things tied or stuffed into the cab of the fuel truck, the culprits rode out of here in a delivery van found at the construction company's main site. There's a notch in one of the tires that matches the tracks perfectly."

  "Have you told Jessica? She needs to see if she can get the inside scoop on what the owner makes of that. I'm sure you've asked who could have had access to the storage yard."

  "They're pulling records for us now of everyone who's been in or out of there during the past two weeks. Frank tried to call and update her, but she didn't reply. He left a message, though."

  "Hmm. Her appointment with Kenneth O'Rourke's foreman was at three-thirty. I suppose she could still be meeting with him. It hasn't been an hour yet. Did she shut off her phone?"

  "I don't know, but I'll ask Frank."

  "I need to join Stacy and thank our team members. I've offered them dinner, but I'm going to go out on a limb and promise them a bonus—call it hazardous duty pay. I may have to duke it out with Sid or Eric Sandler or whoever wheedles their way into Charlie's role. I don't care. You know what? After Stacy is done with her briefing, I'm going to make that promise public. Let them play Scrooge this time of the year trying to claw back the money."

  "They'd better not. I can tell by the set of your jaw that they'll pay for it several times over if they take you on!" Jack put an arm around me and chuckled. Then he dropped his arm. "Sorry. I miss you."

  "I miss you too," I said.

  "Here's another piece of good news I haven't even shared with Frank," Jack whispered.

  "What?"

  "Max left the other cufflink you gave him, wedged into a corner of the truck."

  "They used the van to transport him and the others, didn't they?"

  "Yes. The lab guys found fibers that match the carpet used in their suites at the hotel. It's unique, given Max's efforts to stay true to his intentions to be eco-friendly. I guess regular carpet gives off formaldehyde and other unpleasant chemicals."

  "I know. Max lectured us on the carpet at one of our division leaders' meetings. He was excited he'd found an alternative, circling the room with his hands behind his back and pointing at the ceiling for emphasis. God bless the determined little man," I said. I did a quick search to see that no one was watching us and gave Jack a quick peck on the cheek.

  I dashed to join Stacy, so I could speak with the young woman before Stacy said goodbye. I introduced myself, and she gave me her name: Karen Taylor. When I thanked her and shared the plan to honor her with dinner and a bonus, she beamed. Stacy gave me a sidewise glance.

  "We're going to announce our intention to honor you with a banquet and a bonus at our six o'clock press conference," and gave Stacy a wink. Stacy figured out the method to my madness about making it public. That way, no one would dare renege on the offer. Sometimes it's easier to ask for forgiveness later than permission in advance.

  "I can't believe Kenneth got killed," Karen Taylor said as she sighed.

  "Cindy Lucas is going to be so upset. Especially since she cooked up the stupid idea for that group."

  "What group?" I asked, waving for Jack to join us. "My husband needs to hear this. Are you talking about the group tied to the logo they wore?"

  "Yes, Cindy meant it as a joke. I doubt she knew Kenneth took her seriously."

  "How do you know Cindy Lucas?" Jack asked.

  "She works at the front desk at the Gardens Hotel and sometimes helps out in the Visitor Center, so she meets everyone. We hit it off and had lunch a few times. Cindy was excited one day and showed me a pamphlet she made up with that logo on the front. She designed it for a social media course she was taking as part of an online journalism degree. The project was about a negativity bias—our brains notice negative ideas or experience and spend more time thinking about them than on positive messages."

  "I get that," Stacy said. "I lie awake awaked at night stewing about a comment from a ticked off guest and can barely remember comments from those who thanked or complimented me."

  "Apparently, it's easier to attract followers on social media by focusing on negative issues, even if they make no sense or are made up. Cindy's project was to hate being fashionable and used this odd French phrase that sounded exotic."

  "Dernier cri," Jack suggested. "We found the pamphlet in Kenneth's apartment."

  "Yes, that's it. Then you already know Cindy ranted against people who always love everything that's new and chase the latest fads. She had lots of silly examples and then threw in the idea that green was a color, not a solution to problems. That all went onto a website. She hoped by adding a bunch of contradictions and meaningless coincidences to support her case, she'd give it away that the site was nonsense. In days, her site had hundreds of followers, so she took it down. The project earned her an A+, but it was the first time I've ever seen anyone discouraged by getting a good grade. I'm sorry Kenneth held onto that pamphlet."

  "Thanks fo
r letting us know about Cindy. I'll try to track her down and break it to her about Kenneth before the news becomes public," I offered, eying Jack to see if he agreed.

  "It's fine. We reached his parents earlier today, and they identified him, so the news will get out soon," Jack added.

  "From what Cindy said, his parents weren't involved in his life much. Kenneth was a lost soul, and she felt sorry for him. A couple of weeks ago, when he got into trouble at work again, Kenneth wanted to quit the construction job. He asked Cindy to help him get a job at Marley World. When she said no, he was so angry, he stomped off and said he didn't want to see her anymore." Then Jack asked an interesting question.

  "If Cindy took down her website, how come it was up earlier today?"

  "I don't know. Maybe that geeky guy in the control room with Kenneth did it. For a guy who was there to destroy dangerous, unproven green technology, he sure was fascinated by it. I told him to get away from the controls because he was staring at them like a cat about to pounce. Then he started pushing buttons and switches. When it first began to shake around us, I thought he'd done caused the problem. Now I understand they blew a hole in the tunnels. I guess we were lucky they didn't blow us up." Stacy gave the woman's arm a pat.

  "Tell Cindy the website is up again. I bet she'll feel less guilty about Kenneth going off the deep end since she'd taken it down," Stacy said.

  "I agree. I can't believe Cindy didn't tell Kenneth what she was doing and why. I wouldn't be surprised if he and his co-conspirators were using it to cover up their real motives," I added.

  "Like kidnapping Max?" Karen asked. "I wondered about that too since they told us Max and his guests are still missing. I hope you find him soon. This has been a rough day for us, and he's as old as my grandpa," Karen said. Her eyes filled with tears.