Gnarly New Year (Corsario Cove Cozy Mystery #2) (5 page)

“Well, it wasn't too long after they brought us food. Once they knew I was awake, they sat me up to eat and started asking me questions. Who was I? What was I doing out there behind the dumpster?  Before I could answer them, that old guy told them to leave me alone. He said I was just some homeless guy who bums around and comes up to the back door for food. I wasn’t sure what to say since I’m not homeless and I don't beg for food. It turned out I didn’t have to say anything else right then. The bar owner's cell phone rang. They just let it ring, but lost interest in me and asked Joe Schmo...” Mitchum interrupted.

“Bob, Bob Goddard is his name. It sounds like that old guy tried to help you out. Show a little respect for the dead why don’t you?” Twitch, twitch.

“Sure. After that phone call, they got real concerned about who knew Goddard was at the bar. He said his wife knew, and she’d be around to look for him if he didn’t answer the phone, or get home soon. That’s when they decided to get us out of there. I scarfed down the scrambled eggs as fast as I could. I thought it might be my last meal for a while, maybe forever, if you get my drift. The guy with the gun had these real mean eyes. I think they were trying to decide what to do with me when they called the boss again. The guy on the other end was screaming this time. When he ended the call, the mean-looking guy made Goddard call his wife and tell her he was going to be late. I have to hand it to that old man, he was real convincing. He apologized for not calling sooner and told his wife he had found a problem with the books—taxes or something. Goddard told her to go ahead and eat dinner and not to wait up for him because he was going to be late. I don’t know if she fell for it or not.”

“She did. It wasn’t until the next day when Goddard still wasn’t home that she checked on him. That’s when she called us. A couple of uniformed officers reported the mess at the bar as a possible burglary even though there was no evidence of breaking and entering, and nothing of value seemed to be missing.”

“Except Goddard,” I said, trying not to sound too sarcastic.

“True. Under the circumstances, the wife filed a missing person’s report even though Goddard hadn’t been gone 24 hours yet. The next day when we figured out that rag had chloroform on it, we changed it from attempted robbery to a suspected kidnapping. We did what we could to track him down. Of course, we didn’t have much to go on and didn’t realize they had taken Goddard out on a boat. How’d that happen?”

“A third guy showed up in a few minutes. It was dark out by then when they hauled us out into the alley and shoved us into a van. Some jerk knocked me out again. Guess that means I lucked out twice in one day if that chloroform can kill you. When I woke up, I was locked in the world’s smallest bathroom. I must have slept some, too, because it was morning by then. My luck ran out a few days later.”

“Uh, if your luck had run out, Mick, you wouldn’t be sitting here with us.”

“Yeah, that’s true, isn’t it? They were going to kill me, and I got away. That was a lucky break.” I searched for something reassuring to say—something about it being more than luck, but I couldn’t think of a thing. When Mitchum’s phone rang, we all jumped. Even Mitchum. His mustache and eyebrows registered surprise, and his feet started tapping nervously as he dug out his phone.

“I’d better take this. I told them no calls unless it was important.” Mitchum went inside to speak to the caller in private.

“I need to use the facilities,” Mick announced, as he struggled to sit up. I grabbed the tray he held before its contents went flying.

“Me too,” Brien said, making a run for it before Mick could get up out of that chaise. “You’re next, Bro.” After drinking all that coffee, I needed to queue up. A few more minutes and I’d be doing a tap dance like the detective. When I came back, Mitchum had rejoined us and wore a grim look on his face.

“They’ve found another body. A John Doe, with no I.D., but they’re running his prints.”

6 STOOGES

“I’ve got a team at the scene—on the beach a few miles south of where we found Goddard. What can you tell me about the guys that grabbed you, Mick? You said you recognized one of them and had seen him with Owen. When and where?” We were down to our last donut and out of coffee. By the despondent expression on Mitchum’s face, more sugar and coffee wouldn't help much at this point.

“Uh... let me think. I saw the guy with Opie—uh, I mean Owen in the fall, October. They were standing on the dock down there.” He gestured toward the cove with the bottle of water he held in his hand, now that the coffee was gone. “I was out to catch a few waves at dawn, so it was early. Owen and this other guy looked like they had already been out in the water.”

“How did you know that?” I asked.

“They were standing near a dinghy—Owen’s, you know?”

“The one he stole, you mean. A brazen thief, your pal Owen, wasn’t he?” Mitchum stamped his feet.

“Or stupid and reckless, Detective. Willow claims he was a big dope.” I shrugged. Why was I defending the guy? Calling him stupid and reckless wasn't much of defense against being labeled a brazen thief. I liked Willow. She must have seen something in Owen Taylor to fall for the guy like she did.

“Heck, maybe not that dumb, with all those noisy, stinky things buzzing around out there. Guests at the resort can rent one for the day, even if they don’t own one. What’s one more? Since they all look alike, who's going to spot it as stolen? That guy was craftier than he seemed.”

“I agree with you, Brien, except that he must have been the only one out there at the crack of dawn like that. He did take precautions to hide the thing in the cave when he wasn’t using it, so that was uh, uh...” I couldn’t bring myself to call it crafty, “less dopey. You found his dinghy in there, right Detective?”

“Yes, yes, along with all that junk Owen had stashed in there. Maybe he was off his rocker—one of those hoarders. What kind of a description can you give me of the guy with Owen, Mick?”

“He and Owen both had on wetties—another reason I figured they had been in the water. The dude with Owen also had diving gear.”

“As in scuba gear?”

“Yeah, Brien. Owen had his snorkeling stuff, but that dude with him was all tricked out Sea Hunt style.”

“Sea Hunt—you mean that old TV series?” I asked. I hadn’t ever seen it, but I had seen Jaws, and plenty of underwater exploration shows. Like the ones searching for shipwrecks and engaged in salvage. Hmm. The salvage word flashed like a neon sign in my mind.

“Exactly, Gidget. That Lloyd Bridges was a badass.”

My heart beat faster. What if the police hadn’t just found junk in that cave? Maybe salvage had something to do with Owen’s scheme. One of his schemes, that is. Besides stealing counterfeit goods from the pirate ring operating in the cove and selling them online. Oh yeah, and in addition to helping himself to fake doubloons issued to guests at The Sanctuary—hotel scrip accepted like money here at the resort. Willow had been right about Owen being up to his neck in schemes.

“I'm sorry to interrupt, but has anyone taken a close look at that junk you hauled out of the cave?  You know, somebody knowledgeable about salvage like that guy who owns the nautical shop in San Albinus? What if Owen discovered something of value, and it’s mixed in with what you’ve already logged into evidence or what’s waiting to be processed?” I barely got the words out before he waved me off.

“The answer to your question is no, but I’ll take your suggestion under advisement. No more interruptions, though, please?” He gave that mustache of his what looked to me like a thoughtful tug, despite warding me off. Mick took that to mean he should continue his story.

“At first, I thought maybe Opie had finally been nabbed by the cove pirates he was ripping off. They seemed to be having a serious talk. It's not like they were going at it or anything, but Opie wigged out not too long after that conversation.” Mick shrugged and took another sip of water.

“Well, that could have been because Willow was pressuring him to straighten up and fly right. That must have been around the time she broke up with him.”

“It could be. Who knows?” He shrugged again. Willow’s a touchy subject. I'm convinced Mick has a “thing” for her, so I let it go.

“Mick, why are you so sure the diver with Owen was one of the cove-runners involved in the counterfeit ring?” Brien asked.

“Because I had seen him a couple of other times with the crew hauling stuff to the dock they had unloaded from a boat out in the cove. I was curious, but it wasn't my business. Live and let live, you know?"

"Geez, I don't think they share your opinion about that, do you? It's in your best interest to give me something to go on so I can catch up with this guy before he catches up with you!"

"I agree. He’s definitely violated the code. After seeing him again, up close and personal, as my kidnapper, I’d say he’s in his thirties. Dark, curly hair and mean brown eyes, with a mean old dog look on his face to match.” Mick grimaced, baring his teeth. On his messed up face it looked more pathetic than mean.

"See this tooth right here," he said pointing to one of his bottom teeth. "His was gold. Just like a pirate, huh?" Brien nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly with Mick.

I'd seen lots of rappers and wannabe rock stars in Mr. P's studio with gold teeth. Some had jeweled ones too. It didn't mean pirate to me. Mitchum, who was taking notes, didn't say a word, but motioned for Mick to continue.

“He's kind of a little guy, now that I think about it. Shorter than the bald, tattooed dude with him when they were following Kim and Brien around in San Albinus. Shorter than Owen, too. They were standing right next to each other, looking at Owen’s GPS device that morning after the dive. Owen was 5’8” so the diver’s 5’7” or less. Beefy, too. Nothing like Brien here, but way beefier than me. He can throw a punch, Detective." Mick reached up and touched his face as he made that comment.

"Sounds like a real thug," I said, feeling sorry for the pain Mick had suffered.

"What else would you expect from the member of a gang of thieves hauling knockoffs in through the cove?"

"True, but it sounds like this one sure fits the part better than their well-dressed ringleader," I said, recalling the well-coiffured man who had held Willow and me at gunpoint Christmas Day. I had seen pictures of him before that, in suit and tie as a member of the resort management team.

"You're talking about that resort exec Mitchum arrested Christmas day, aren't you, Kim? I saw the diver with him, too, one day, only he wasn’t wearing a wettie. The diver, I mean. That was a few days after he and Owen had been out on that dive together. They were standing down there near the dock with some other big shot in a pricey suit. I don’t know who he was, but I’m pretty sure I saw him around here a few years ago when they were still building the resort.”

“Wait a second. Are you saying you saw Matthew Davis speaking to the man who kidnapped you and killed Goddard?”

“Yes, that's what I said. I didn’t know that was his name, but I saw him." Mitchum was back in agitated mode.

“Davis has been holding out on us.” Mitchum was tugging at his oversized mustache in earnest now. He jumped to his feet and paced around, muttering. “Davis’ sidekick told us he figured Owen made up that ‘I’ve got a secret treasure’ as a gambit to keep Davis from killing him on Christmas Eve. If you’re telling me the truth, Mick, Davis must have been mixed up in Owen’s scheme before that confrontation in the hotel room.” He sat back down.

“What do you mean? Of course, I’m telling you the truth. Why would I lie?” I jumped in before Mitchum could get too riled up about Mick’s indignant reply.

"You didn't think you were getting the whole story from Davis, did you, as fast as he lawyered up? His sidekick could be lying to you, or Owen could still have tried to use the location of the GPS device as a bargaining chip to get out of the trouble he was in with Davis. Once Davis knew its location—or thought he did—that was the end of ho-ho-ho for Owen. I told you Davis was still looking for that GPS thing Christmas day when he had Willow and me cornered. Davis must have been convinced Owen double-crossed him somehow because he suspected that Brien and I were his partners, too.”

"I been trying to tell you that’s what they were looking for when they had Goddard and me on that boat. They kept asking that old man about coordinates on it, too. He kept saying he didn't know anything about it. They kept looking for it, in between using that poor old guy as a punching bag. It was horrible when I was awake enough to hear what was going on. They had to be putting drugs in my food or water since I kept passing out.”

“Mick's story has me wondering about something else. The rich guy Mick saw talking to Davis, and the diver must be in on this, too, right?  One of the only bits of information Owen shared with Willow was that he had partners with deep pockets. He could have been referring to Davis, but this other guy Mick spotted fits the bill. Maybe one of the real estate developers, if Mick’s right about seeing him during construction.”

“Whoa, that’s a good idea, Kim. Can you remember when you saw the three of them talking, Mick?”

“Around Halloween. Hotel staff down at the pool area tossing candy and fake gold coins to the kids all had on costumes. Not their usual pirate outfits, either.”

I explained that the resort staff would soon turn in their Santa suits for pirate garb. Mitchum grunted. I took that to mean he understood.

"My memory is clear about it because this tiny kid went whacko when a vampire tried to give him candy. That kid had a set of lungs on him. He let go a shriek you could hear in San Albinus. The diver and the bigwigs he was talking to all looked around when they heard it.”

“Well, it’s time for another chat with Matthew Davis. I doubt this is enough to get the district attorney to revoke his bail, but we can give it a try. We now have a witness to Davis' interactions with that diver, not only a member of his pirating operation, but involved in Goddard's kidnapping and murder. Cooling his heels in jail might get him talking again. There’s another dead body now, too, although making new charges for kidnapping or murder stick to Davis will be tough.” Twitch, twitch. Stamp, stamp.

“Are you kidding? Even though Bob Goddard happens to have been the former employer of the guy Davis is charged with murdering?” Brien was getting a bit agitated, now, too. He does not like it when the bad guys hide behind their wealth and privilege.

“That’s true, Brien, but Davis was under house arrest when those goons snatched Goddard and killed him. Mick’s story has me convinced Goddard’s killers were taking orders from someone, but Davis has been on a short leash when it comes to communications, too. The guy in the pricey suit is a definite possibility. Too bad we don't know who he is. A cheeky bunch to go at it with an active police investigation into Owen Taylor’s murder still underway, I’ll give you that.”

“And I'm convinced the game that's afoot has something to do with that missing GPS device and whatever can be found using the coordinates on it. Lots of people knew Owen worked for Goddard, and the news media has reported the Goddard family’s involvement with Owen Taylor’s illegal activities. It's not that hard to believe they'd go after Goddard at some point in their frenzy to find that thing.” I avoided raising the prospect that Brien and I had somehow led them to Goddard or piqued their interest in him when we banged on the back door of his bar the day after Christmas.

“Kim’s right. Here’s another thing, Detective. Owen might have been one humongous dope, but I don’t think Davis and his wealthy associate are, do you? Owen must have shown that diver something awesome for one or both of them to become his partners.” A little tingle ran through me. It wasn’t all due to the deliciously intent look on Brien’s face as that brain of his kicked into overdrive.

“I agree, Brien. Valuable enough to make it worth taking a lot of risks, including kidnapping and killing people.”

“I understand what you two are saying. It makes sense, but until that GPS device turns up what difference does it make? For now, I’ve got two murders to solve. Officially, we haven’t even established that the two deaths are related. One thing’s for certain. Davis is no longer doing the dirty work. That’s what got him into loads of trouble. His lawyer had to do some fast talking and pull some strings to get him out on bail.”

Now, I felt
my
hackles rise at the thought of that injustice. That slime ball sitting in the lap of luxury after what he had done to Owen, to Willow and me, too! Not to mention poor Goddard and Mick. Even if Davis wasn't holding the gun this time, he was mixed up in this—I just knew it!

“Davis is charged with murder and smuggling counterfeit goods into the country, and who knows what else? Still, he’s out on bail in a flash! How do you like that?” I registered more disgust than I should since I’m a legal assistant. That is what good defense attorneys do—make sure their clients don’t rot in jail until they go to trial, even when it comes to murder. “It must have cost him a chunk of change to get out of jail. Modern day piracy pays well I guess.”

“Not enough. Davis is up to his eyeballs in debt. The resort developers helped him raise the bond money he needed to post. It’s time to take another look at them, too.”