Cozy Mystery Bundle #1 (South Lane Detective Agency)

by John P. Logsdon

  “And nobody’s heard from the person who wore the suit, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “Do we have his or her address?”

  “That’s kind of the thing. Turns out that only a handful of people know who the guy was that did the mascot thing and they aren’t talking.”

  “Do they work here?”

  “No idea.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Nobody will own up to knowing what they know. It’s a very closed-mouth place around here.”

  If Mr. Wolfe wasn’t going to be much help, hopefully they could find someone else who would be.

  “Fine,” Casey said, “let’s head down to the basement, Zane. Maybe we can turn up some clues there.”

  NED, ED, AND JED

  Zane had turned the corner down the softly lit hallway first, and when Casey joined him she noticed that three men blocked their path.

  “You ain’t allowed in here,” the one in the middle said. He was a middle-aged, balding man who was holding an old clipboard that looked like it had seen better days. The two men on either side of him, their appearances elusive in the semi-darkness, nodded—that much she could tell.

  “I’m Zane Wolfe.”

  Casey wondered, not for the first time, how many situations that simple utterance saved him over his lifetime. Probably too many to count.

  The leader of the three, the same one who had spoken first, jutted out his chin. “So?”

  The smaller man—a boy, really, now that Casey could see him more clearly—leaned over and she could see that he looked anxious.

  “Ain’t Wolfe the guy who bought the team?”

  “So?” the first man repeated.

  This time the third man spoke up. “So that means he owns the place. He’s your new boss.”

  “Oh,” he said, but he didn’t look convinced.

  Zane shook his head. “Well, I’m not your new boss. My father is.”

  “Ah, okay,” the first man said, and when Casey stepped closer she saw that his embroidered name tag read “JED”. She wondered if that was his name or his initials. “You ain’t allowed in here.”

  Casey was in no mood to play games with these three.

  “Mr. Wolfe requested that we come down here to speak to you...gentlemen about the mascot situation.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a bent business card and handed it to him. “We’re private investigators.”

  “Says here that you’re detectives,” Jed said as he squinted at the card, his voice layered with distaste.

  “Casey, look—” Zane began, but Casey cut him off with a raised hand in his direction.

  “Let it go, Zane.”

  “We don’t know nothing about the suit, lady. Do we, boys?”

  “Nope,” they said in unison.

  “Haven’t the foggiest where it is, do we, Jed?” the boy said, answering Casey’s unasked question regarding his name.

  “I didn’t expect that you would,” Casey said, getting an idea. “You’re all far too low on the totem pole to have that kind of information.”

  “Hey, we’re in charge of all of the equipment and facilities, lady,” Jed said proudly.

  “Yeah,” the boy added, leaning in enough for her to see his name was Ned. “We’re important people.”

  “Not a fan of your disparaging comments, to be honest,” said the third man who had stepped into the light. The stitching on his shirt said, ‘Ed.’

  “My apologies,” Casey said. “So you’re saying you do know something?”

  “Uh... No,” Jed said, looking confused.

  “Not about the suit,” agreed Ed.

  Ned pointed behind himself. “Only that it used to be in the closet in that room over there.”

  Casey took a few steps toward the doorway, noting the lock on the door.

  “So the person who wore it had to come through here to get it?”

  Jed nodded. “Seems pretty obvious.”

  “You did say you were a detective, right?” Ed asked.

  “Private investigator,” Zane corrected.

  “Must not be as good as detectives, eh, Jed?”

  “My point is,” Casey said, “that if the person had to come through here in order to put on the suit, wouldn’t you three have seen who it is?”

  “No,” Ned answered. “The area goes dark twenty minutes before the game.”

  “Nobody is allowed down here then,” Jed agreed.

  “And all cameras are shut off,” Ed noted.

  Casey laughed. “Oh, for God’s sake, why?”

  “Superstition, of course,” Jed answered with a shrug of his shoulders.

  “Yeah, don’t you know nothing about sports?” Ed asked.

  “She watches curling,” Zane offered.

  “Like that thing you do with the heating iron and your hair?” Ned was scrunching his face. “That’s not a sport.”

  “I think he means that sport up in Canada with the rock, the ice, and the people sweeping, Ned,” Jed said.

  “What in tarnation are you going on about, Jed?” said Ed with a look of shock.

  “What?” Jed said, as if everyone knew what curling was. “It’s relaxing. Puts me to sleep, like golf.”

  “Golf knocks me out, too,” Ned said.

  “Anyway, we need to get into that room,” Casey said.

  Jed shook his head. “Ain’t got a key.”

  No key? How could the people who were in charge of equipment not have a way to get into every room in this building? Wasn’t it their job to make sure everything was taken care of? Can’t do that without keys!

  “Wait a minute,” Casey said, looking at the three of them. “Are you telling me you have no way to get inside that room?”

  “Right,” they said, each of them nodding.

  “Then how the heck do you know the suit is even missing? It’s probably right where it’s supposed to be!”

  “If the suit were in there, the mascot would be out on the field right now,” Jed said, eying Casey as if she’d lost her mind.

  “There’s a leap of logic that I fully expected,” she said, hoping he’d catch on as to how stupid that sounded. He didn’t. “You can’t possibly know the suit is missing if you haven’t seen for yourself that it’s gone. If it’s there, someone else can just put it on, and voila—problem solved.”

  Jed, Ned, and Ed gasped. Zane joined them.

  “What?”

  “You really have no idea how these things work, do you?” Zane said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Casey,” Zane began, looking like he was raring up for a long dissertation on a subject that he finally knew something about, “a mascot suit is sacred. Not just anyone can wear one. It’s a symbiotic relationship between suit and wearer, and neither is complete without the other.”

  Casey shook her head in disbelief, not understanding in the least what the big deal was. She took a deep breath and let out a sigh.

  “Right,” she said as she took a few steps and stood directly in front of the door. “Well, I happen to be somewhat of a locksmith, and I’m getting in there to find out.”

  “You can’t break in there,” Zane said with a laugh.

  “Why not?”

  “Because you don’t know how.” Zane then craned his head to the side. “Do you?”

  Casey smiled evilly. “Let’s just say that sometimes you have to learn how to pick locks in order to go through with investigations.”

  She leaned down and took a couple of old hair sticks from the bottom of her purse. She inserted them into the pin-and-tumbler lock and felt for the give, opening the door quickly and easily. She swung it open and looked triumphantly back at the men with their mouths gaping.

  “I had no idea you could pick locks, Casey,” Zane said with a look of awe. “I gotta say, I’m kind of turned on right now.”

  “Really?” Casey said.

  “Me too,” Ned said with a nod.

  “Me three,” Ed said.

&nbs
p; Jed was nodding as well. “Me four, five, and six.”

  “Ew,” said Casey, grimacing.

  Casey stepped into the room, but the others merely peered inside. It was clear that they saw the place as some form of holy ground. Idiots.

  She slid her hand along the wall just inside the door and found the switch, flicking it on and bathing the room in the yellow bulb’s dingy light.

  “It smells like feet in here,” Casey said with her hand over her nose.

  Zane inhaled reverently. “That’s the smell of sports, Casey.”

  “Feet?” Casey said.

  “So what are we looking for, again?” Zane said, poking his head in the room.

  Casey didn’t answer him, walking straight to the closet instead and opening it up—revealing it was empty. To their credit, none of them said anything, but they did give her I told you so looks.

  “Okay, well, we’re looking for clues then, obviously.”

  “But, uh...”

  “Zane, get in here,” she commanded. “You’re acting ridiculous.”

  He took a distasteful step inside and winced as if something bad were about to happen to him.

  Casey rolled her eyes and turned her attention to the room. There wasn’t much to see. Four walls, the closet, a small bench, an empty locker, and a coat hanger hook. Frankly, it made her wonder how it could smell so bad when there was nothing in there to give off such an odor.

  Zane picked something up off the floor. “Found a clue!”

  “What is it?” Casey said, walking over to him.

  “It’s a key.”

  “Let me see it.”

  Casey took the key from his fingers and walked back to the door. She put the key in and turned it.

  “It’s for this door,” she said.

  “Is that helpful?” Zane said hopefully.

  “It just means that whoever the guy was who came into this room was polite enough to leave the key behind. Unfortunately, he slid it under the door, which wasn’t all that helpful to us.”

  “Was probably distraught and wasn’t thinking,” Zane said as if that explained everything.

  “Is that your typical excuse?”

  “For what?”

  Casey shook her head. “Never mind. Let’s keep looking.”

  “What about that thing?” Jed said, pointing before quickly snatching his hand back out of the room.

  Casey followed his gaze. “What thing?”

  “Over there, in that corner.” He was still pointing, but only with his finger now. Heaven forbid he break the plane of the doorway.

  “I don’t see what you’re pointing at.” Casey squinted and leaned in. “What?”

  “It’s over—”

  “Can’t you just show me?”

  “No way, lady,” Jed spat. “Team’s got bad enough luck as it is. Ain’t nobody supposed to be in this room except for the mascot.”

  Casey pinched the bridge of her nose.

  “We’re in here, fellas. Do you see the world coming to an end?”

  Zane immediately stepped back out.

  “Oh, come on.” Casey put her hands on her hips and eyed each of them in turn. “You all can’t be seriously this stupid.”

  “Sure we can,” Zane confirmed.

  “Unbelievable.” She laughed in a not-so-funny way. “Gentlemen, do you honestly believe that a missing mascot is the cause of your team’s losing streak?”

  “Well, let’s see,” Ned said. “We was fourteen-and-two when the mascot was here and the day he went missin’ we lost.”

  “That’s just coincidence,” Casey stated.

  “Since then we ain’t won nothin’.”

  “So you lost a few games,” she pressed on. “What’s the big deal?”

  “Nineteen straight,” Jed said.

  “Really?” She turned and looked at him. “That many?”

  “Told you, Casey,” Zane said. “You can’t underestimate this stuff. Guys know about these things.”

  “Unfathomable.”

  Casey turned back and leaned down closer to the corner where Jed had pointed earlier. Something shiny caught her eye. She reached for it and picked it up before standing back up and inspecting it.

  “This is a cuff link,” she announced.

  “Is it a lucky cuff link?” Jed said.

  Casey looked at him, wondering how he even tied his shoes in the morning. Then she looked down at his shoes and noted they were slip-ons.

  “How would I know?”

  “Must be lucky,” said Ed, “It’s in here, ain’t it?”

  “Yeah, exactly,” agreed Ned.

  “You should leave it in there, Casey,” Zane warned. “It’s not right to...”

  “You’ve lost nineteen in a row, boys,” Casey interrupted. “I think I can safely say that this particular cuff link has lost its magic.”

  “She’s got a point,” Jed said.

  “Seems to,” agreed Ed.

  “Yep,” said Ned.

  These three are unbelievable, she thought as she stepped back out of the room.

  ON THE SPOT

  Casey shielded her eyes from the sun’s glare as she and Zane exited the basement entrance and started to climb the stands. After a few steps, Mortimer appeared by their side.

  “Ah, Master Wolfe and Miss Lane, I was informed to lead you to your reserved seats in the stands.”

  “Nice!” Zane said.

  Casey stopped climbing and looked at Mortimer. “Sorry, where are we going?”

  “Dad’s hooked us up with tickets.”

  “Wouldn’t the owner’s box be more comfortable?”

  “Yeah, but this is living, Casey,” Zane said as if he were twelve years old. “We’ll be hanging out with real people... like you.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Sure.”

  “Wait,” she said, holding him back. “I thought you liked to make fun of people—as you put it—like me?”

  “Exactly.” His eyes glittered. “This is going to be great.”

  Casey groaned. “Are you going to join us, Mortimer?”

  “Sorry, ma’am, I shall not. Again, I’m more of a curling sort.”

  “Lame,” Zane said.

  Casey followed Zane and Mortimer just a few rows up, to where there were only two empty spots available—right in the middle of a long row filled with people. They inched along, tripping over feet and cups of beer along the way, until they were finally seated in the sticky seats. Casey was worried that her pants might rip if she tried to get up from whatever mess she was sitting in. As the two of them got settled and the pitcher threw one across the plate, Zane’s phone rang. Casey noticed that some irritated glances were sent his way, but he ignored them.

  “Hello?…Oh, hey, Dad…Yeah, these seats are great! Lovin’ it…Huh?…Oh, uh...Nah, don’t do that… Seriously, Dad, no…Dad...Dad?…Damn.”

  “What?” she said, concerned.

  Zane shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Uh, well...”

  “What?”

  “Look, it’s no big deal, okay?”

  “What’s no big deal?”

  “My dad’s just being a goof and—”

  Suddenly the announcer’s deep, booming voice came loud and clear through the stadium’s speakers, cutting off whatever Zane had been about to say.

  Ladies and gentlemen, if you’ll turn your attention to the big screen, we’re going to play a game!

  “Zane? What is it that your dad is—”

  It’s the KISS CAM! Let’s zip this around until we find the right couple to put on the spot!

  Casey groaned, slumping down in her seat, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. “Oh no.”

  “Again, he’s...” Zane began.

  And here we have it!

  Once again Casey shrank back in her seat, hoping against hope that the camera went anywhere else other than her seat. Instead, the camera closed in on them as if they were the only two people at the game.

  “Damn.”


  Come on, now. Give each other a big ol’ kiss for the team! We could use the luck!

  Casey shook her head, her lips set in a thin line. “Nope. Not doing it.”

  “I don’t want to either, but everyone’s staring at us,” Zane whispered.

  Casey wondered how a second ago, when he had received nasty looks from taking a cell phone call, he had easily ignored everyone around him, but suddenly he was feeling pressured about the KISS CAM?

  The crowd began chanting, accompanied by the organ over the loudspeaker.

  Kiss, kiss, kiss! Kiss, kiss, kiss!

  The announcer also kept pushing.

  Don’t be shy, you love birds!

  Zane turned to her. “Let’s just get it over with, okay?”

  If looks could kill… Casey hoped her glare would at least cause some damage. “I’m going to punch your father for this.”

  Zane leaned in and Casey closed her eyes, and when their lips met, Casey melted into it, despite herself. The crowd disappeared, the case vanished, and all that was left was the two of them.

  She wasn’t sure how much time had passed while they kissed. She became aware of their audience and then felt her face flush. The crowd cheered, and Casey abruptly pulled away from Zane. She swiped her lips with her hand.

  Aren’t they adorable, folks? And now we’re back to the game!

  Neither one of them said a word. They sat back in their seats, dead still, and stared straight ahead. The game was playing, but Casey, at least, was paying it no attention.

  Zane’s phone rang again, and Zane answered it after a few rings.

  “Yeah?” Zane said, all humor gone from his voice. “Oh, it was hilarious, Dad…No, don’t even...”

  Ready for another game?

  She reached down and grabbed her purse. “I’m outta here.” Casey bolted up from her seat, not caring what the sticky gunk was that she was undoubtedly taking along with her. She headed out of the aisle, up the stadium stairs, straight for Mr. Wolfe’s owner’s box.