Murder at Catmmando Mountain Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery #1 (Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery Series)

by Anna Celeste Burke

  He should also have a chat with Megan Donnelly. She might know more about who Mallory was hassling at Snappy Treats. Megan might also be aware of other problems at eateries in Arcadia Park. What if Mallory had shown up early to do her job? Checking up on an issue at one of the Snappy Treats outlets, or another park restaurant, could be better handled before guests arrived. Had Mallory stumbled upon mischief that no one intended for her to see or reveal to others?

  My mind raced with “what ifs” and whodunits. It cleared my head to write everything down. Who had leaked information about the incident before Doug and I arrived at the scene? I added names Doug had mentioned of people who were the first to find, report, and react to the incident.

  Several colleagues who had tangled with Mallory at executive committee meetings came to mind, including a board member who had stormed out on one occasion. I added their names to my list.

  During those stressful months I worked with Mallory in the Food and Beverage Division before moving to PR, there had been trouble. I had dealt with several irate suppliers Mallory had insulted or angered by disregarding contractual arrangements. I struggled to recall their names and the nature of the disputes.

  The task of listing potential suspects totally absorbed me. Miles had snuggled up against me when I sat down but disappeared at some point. He suddenly made his whereabouts known with a piercing yowl. I yelped in response and leaped to my feet, almost dropping my laptop in the process.

  “What in the world?”

  Miles flew to the large picture window in the room, stood on the back of an armchair, and poked his head through the drapes I had drawn. Staring out into the darkness, he twitched his tail and began to growl. The fur on his back stood up, as did the hairs on the back of my neck. I slipped up behind Miles, trying not to startle him.

  “What is it, Sweetie?” I peeked through an opening in the drapes and thought I saw movement outside. Garbage cans on the side of the house rattled as though someone had banged against them. My heart pounded. I was about to call 911 when a cat squalled and took off, with a second cat chasing him. Miles gave the glass in front of him a couple of “get out of here and stay out of here” smacks. Then he jumped down and began grooming himself. Crisis over. That was it for me, too. This day was over.

  “Bedtime,” I declared. Miles tore off. By the time I washed out my teacup and switched off the lights, Miles had turned in. He sleeps in the same cat bed he’s had since he was a kitten. I’ve bought him bigger ones, but he has turned up his nose at them. I smiled at the furry little guy, rolled up into a ball and squeezed into his bed at the foot of my own. Why had I told Jack I live a solitary life?

  7 No Boy-toy photo

  My sleep had been restless. The full impact of what had happened the day before hit me like a ton of bricks after Miles woke me with a bellow. A successful wake-up call when delivered two inches from my ear. I don’t know how he does it, but my cat always manages to go into rooster mode a minute or two before the alarm goes off. I hit the snooze button and closed my eyes. Would it be so terrible if I took a sick day? Miles was having none of it. When it’s time to get up, you get up. He poked at my eyes with a soft paw and tickled my face with his whiskers until I gave in. I work for a cat at home, too.

  “Oh, all right. Breakfast!” In a blur, Miles was gone. Ten seconds later he was yowling at me from the kitchen. Can I help it if humans are so much slower than felines? “I hear, and I obey,” I shouted in reply as I dragged myself to the kitchen. He kept up a steady beat of calls, urging me on until I served him his breakfast. Blessed silence followed once Miles had his morning treats. Coffee, oatmeal, and fruit were on the menu for me. After the second cup of coffee, I managed to get through the rest of my morning routine, with Miles supervising, of course.

  On the commute to work, I reviewed the day ahead. We had a full agenda, aimed at managing the murder at Catmmando Mountain crisis. That was in addition to all the more general outreach and engagement activities intended to put a friendly face on Marvelous Marley World Enterprises and support its internationally recognized brands.

  Because of the theme park, we have teams involved in all sorts of local community events. Many events related to animal welfare, pet adoption, pet-owner education, and the like. A shared schedule keeps us all on the same page about who is doing what, when, and where, under normal conditions. Who knew what would happen, today? When I arrived at my office, Carol met me with more coffee—a hefty cup, freshly made.

  “Bless you, Carol!”

  “You’re going to need it. You have a visitor. Linda Grey came in here upset, so I put her in your office.”

  “Has Jack spoken to you?”

  “Ooh, Jack is it? Chummy! I have an appointment with Detective Wheeler later. He’s going to give me the third degree, right? Not that I’ll mind too much. Meow! He’s cute, unlike that oversized tomcat roaming the halls around here.”

  “I wouldn’t call Jack cute.” I frowned. How had our conversation wandered so far off topic?

  “Don’t worry, I know Rockford’s only got eyes for you.” She winked.

  I blushed.

  “Don’t tease me, Carol.” Jim Rockford—that was it! James Garner, in real life, was the name of the guy I couldn’t come up with when I was trying to figure out who Jack resembled. I decided to steer the conversation back to business. “Did you put anyone in my office yesterday—or notice anyone else roaming the halls besides Dale?”

  “No, I didn’t put anyone in your office. Yes, I noticed people roaming around. This place is crawling with people all day long, Georgie. Yesterday was exceptionally busy with the uh... you know, with all that was going on with Mallory’s, uh, demise. Dale was the only visitor in a character outfit, though. No Catmmando Tom sightings today, so far. I guess you gave him 'paws' to reflect, eh? Made it 'purr-fectly' clear you 'pre- fur' the handsome detective?” I rolled my eyes.

  “How much of this coffee have you had? Enough with the cat puns, already! You know I’ve heard all of them a million times before.”

  “I know. No need to be 'catty,' I won’t annoy you any 'furr-ther.' I’m just trying to lighten things up before you go in there.” She glanced down the hall toward my office.

  “I hear you. Thanks for the coffee and the heads up.”

  In my office, I found Linda, sitting in obvious discomfort on the edge of a chair.

  “I’m so glad to see you,” I said. “Hang on a sec while I settle in, then we can talk.”

  “No problem.” Linda’s reply was a whisper.

  I set my coffee down, hung up my coat, stashed my purse, and did a couple of other things while keeping an eye on Linda. She did not look well.

  “Can I get you coffee or water?”

  “Water would be great. My mouth is dry. Can you shut the door?”

  “Sure.” I shut the door and grabbed a bottle of water from a cabinet. As she opened that bottle, I sat down behind my desk. Trying to sound casual, I asked her, “What’s up?” Her hand shook as she drank from the bottle.

  “I’m worried about what’s going to happen now that Mallory’s dead.” Tears slid down her cheeks. I pulled tissues from a box on a shelf behind me and handed them to her.

  “Thanks, Georgie. It’s been so awful, ever since you left the Food and Beverage Division.” A wave of guilt hit me. I felt the urge to apologize, but I didn’t want to interrupt now that she had started to speak. When she sobbed instead, I spoke.

  “I’m sorry, Linda. Will you tell me what you mean?”

  “You know how Mallory was. Always nasty. Lately, she was on Dorothy’s case, constantly. It’s like she hated Dorothy. Maybe because Dorothy was so quiet and never stood up to her. Mallory said mean things, not only about Dorothy’s work but about her appearance—her weight, her hair, her clothes—you name it! Sometimes Mallory even called her names like idiot or jerk and cursed at her. It was terrible, but what could I do?” Linda searched my face. I had to be displaying shock and horror since that’s what I fe
lt.

  “I had no idea,” I said. “Mallory was nasty while I was there, but she never resorted to name-calling or cursing. I am so sorry you had to endure that. Why didn’t you or Dorothy come to me?”

  “I wanted to, but Dorothy wouldn’t let me. She said running to you would make it look like she couldn’t handle her job. When I asked her about going to someone else, she told me to mind my own business. I tried. Since we’re all in the same suite, I couldn’t help hearing them, especially if they left the door to Mallory’s office open. I considered going behind Dorothy’s back to complain about Mallory. That would have been professional suicide, you know? Dorothy would be angry with me, and what would I do if Mallory came after me? I need this job, Georgie.” Linda stopped talking and twisted the tissue in her hands.

  “Linda, I am so sorry. Dorothy had a responsibility to be more responsive to your concerns. If you want to file a complaint, you can still do that. Mallory can’t seek retribution now. I can understand if you’ve had it with Dorothy, too, and want to find another position in the Food and Beverage Division, or elsewhere. I’ll help you. With Mallory gone, Dorothy’s in charge. If you’d rather stay where you are, things should calm down.”

  “That’s just it. Dorothy’s gone off the deep end! I heard her shredding things yesterday and talking out loud to herself like there was someone in her office. I looked. There wasn’t anyone in there. She was slamming things around and cursing under her breath about Mallory.” Linda was trembling all over, as she continued.

  “Georgie, I’m afraid Dorothy might have had something to do with what happened to Mallory. You wouldn’t believe the fight they had a few days ago. They had the door closed, but I could hear them shouting. Not just Mallory, but Dorothy, too. Then Dorothy stormed out, and Mallory came after her cursing and saying she was going to tell her dad to fire her.” Linda squirmed in her seat.

  “Dorothy told Mallory to go ahead, and she’d tell him what was going on. Mallory slammed her door shut.”

  “Going on? What was going on?”

  “I’m not sure, but Dorothy knows. She was angry to find me sitting at my desk when she came out of there. I asked if I should call someone for help. Dorothy just pointed at me and said, ‘Don’t you dare! I’ve already told you to stay out of it.’ So I did, but now it’s too late.”

  “Have you told any of this to Detective Wheeler?”

  “Not yet. I’m supposed to talk to the police today. I wasn’t sure I could do it with Dorothy standing there, or in the other room, you know, so I came to see you first? I heard the detective is going to be here later to do a press conference, right? Can you give him this, please? When I went into water Mallory’s plants this morning, I found it on the floor and shoved behind a potted plant near the door. I was going to put it on Mallory’s desk, but then I thought it might mean something, so I came over here to give it to you. It shocked me a little to see them together like that. Do you think it’s important?” I stared at the photo she handed me, stunned.

  “It could be. We’ll let Detective Wheeler decide. I’m sure he’s going to want to speak to you, Linda. I don’t believe you should go back to your office until we sort this out. Is there someone we can call to get you—a friend or family member?”

  “Do you think Dorothy did it? Will she come after me next?”

  “I don’t know whether Dorothy had anything to do with Mallory’s death or not, but her behavior is inappropriate. There’s no reason for you to have to go through more distress than you already have.”

  “I’ll call my friend, Nadia. It’s her day off. She can pick me up, and I’ll go home with her. You can call me at her place when Detective Wheeler wants to talk to me.”

  “That’s a great idea. You call Nadia, and I’ll call Detective Wheeler.”

  “I don’t know what else I can tell the detective that I haven’t already told you.”

  “He’ll want to hear it from you directly—in case, I miss a point or get the details wrong. I’m grateful you’ve been willing to come forward about this. Jack Wheeler will be grateful, too.”

  Linda tried to smile as she pulled the phone from her purse and called her friend.

  I tried to reach Jack but had no luck. I left a message several places and finally asked Carol to have him drop in when he arrived to interview her. Once Linda left, I plunged into tasks planned for the day.

  When Jack returned my call later, I missed it. A few minutes before our scheduled meeting to prepare for the afternoon press conference, he zoomed into my office. I could swear I felt the air pressure change with that breezy entrance.

  “Hey, Georgie, this has been quite a day. I got your messages, and I have questions for you.” Jack dropped into the chair across from my desk.

  Without even asking, I stood up and poured the man a cup of coffee. Usually, I use one of those little single cup doohickeys, but this was a coffee binge kind of day, so I had made a whole pot.

  “Great!” I said. “Did you find more incriminating evidence that puts me on your most wanted list?” A wry smile spread across his face, so much like James Garner!

  “You’re on my most wanted list, Georgie, but it has nothing to do with this case.”

  “Oh stop it, Jack, you’re embarrassing me.” I blushed for the second time today.

  “Geez, don’t tell me you don’t like flirting any better than compliments.”

  “I like it, Jack. I just haven’t had much practice lately with either.”

  “Stick with me, kid, and you’ll get plenty of practice with both.” He wore such a smug, determined expression it made me laugh. Not to mention he was using that hokey private eye voice again.

  “Sure thing, but it’ll take me a little time.”

  “Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.” His voice took on a more serious tone. He put both hands behind his head and stretched. “We only have a few minutes before our meeting. I guess we’d better get down to business. You go first.”

  “I suppose Carol told you I had a visit from Linda Grey. She’s scared, and she’s worried about Dorothy. You need to speak to Linda. See if you can help her sort things out.” I quickly filled him in on the rest of our conversation. “Linda has no idea what Dorothy meant when she said she knew what was going on. I wonder if it has something to do with this.” I handed him the photo Linda had given me earlier. Jack let out that low whistle he had used the day before when I suggested we dine at Blue Pacific.

  “Mallory got around, didn’t she? That’s something I wanted to talk to you about—hanky-panky between Mallory and corporate associates. One reason Debbie Dinsmore and her friends disliked Mallory is that she stole their boyfriends. She collected boy-toys like Cruella went after those 101 Dalmatians. Megan Donnelly knew about it, too, apparently. Debbie Dinsmore says Megan became livid about all the trouble Mallory caused among park associates.” Jack took another look at that person in that photo. “He’s no boy-toy, though, is he?”

  8 Identity Crisis

  It was nearly dark when I reached my car. That’s not unusual at this time of the year. It’s often dark when I arrive at work and dark when I leave. Close by, I could hear the sound of a bicycle bell, one of those old-fashioned, pre-electronic-era bells that ring when you move a little lever. Max Marley loves them, and he’s had bells installed on a fleet of bicycles that guests could use in Buddy Bear’s Bicycle Bonanza. It is a rather pleasant sound—nostalgic, reminding me of riding with childhood friends at a furious pace through our suburban neighborhood.

  I wasn’t at all surprised by the sound. We have the same kind of bicycles here on the grounds of the world headquarters complex. That includes the administrative building where I work, as well as Marvelous Marley Research & Development; Marvelous Marley Communications; Marvelous Max Studios; Marvelous Marley Foods; and several other buildings in the park-like campus.

  I had almost reached my car when I heard the sound again—louder this time. I turned around just in time to see Buddy Bear hurt
ling toward me on a company bicycle. The frozen smile on the character’s face did not reassure me. I dashed around the front of my car to the driver’s side and jumped inside, setting off the car alarm at the same time. Buddy Bear followed. As he came around the front of my car, still going at a good clip, I flung open my driver side door. He slammed on his brakes, but too late. The bike went one way and Buddy Bear the other. In less than a minute, a Marvelous Marley World security team pulled up and jumped out. I hollered so they could hear me above the blaring car alarm.

  “Buddy Bear tried to run me down on his bicycle. Don’t let him get away. Call the police!” I was hopping mad as I shut off the car alarm. Not only because I had come so close to being mowed down, but now I had an insurance claim to file. I couldn’t wait to explain how my door had gotten dented by a rampaging, make-believe bear on a bike.

  Buddy Bear sat up. He adjusted the lopsided furry head he wore and looked around. When he made an effort to stand, the larger of the two security guards tackled him. Bear and guard landed on the ground with a loud “oomph.”

  “Move another paw and my partner will zap you with his Taser, Buddy Bear.” That was a statement I never imagined hearing. I climbed out and leaned against my car while waiting for a response from the police to the call security had made.

  Thank goodness members of the press, who had been milling about earlier in the day, had left. We had orchestrated another briefing to satisfy their demand for news about the murder at Catmmando Mountain. As planned, Jack had participated, this time, confirming that Mallory Marley-Marston was indeed the victim. He assured the press that a thorough investigation was still underway, but police had no reason to suspect Arcadia’s guests were in any danger.

  Doug had wrapped up the event with a few words about the loss of a valued member of our corporate family. Then he delivered an emotional appeal for the press to respect the Marley family’s privacy at this difficult time. If we were caught on video again, I bet it would reveal that Jack watched Doug this time, while I watched Jack. What had he learned by observing Doug?