Don Bruns - Too Much Stuff

“Shoo, shoo!” The lady ran from behind the counter, picked up the towel, and rushed the blue heron, who wisely leaped to the railing and gracefully launched himself into the air.

The two seagulls frantically pecked at the egg on the floor, then took their leave, flying inches above us.

“Gotta love the peace and tranquility out here,” Em said as she ducked.

And, to be honest, I did.

We’d finished our second cups of coffee. The birds had all flown away once the eggs were consumed. Green water lapped at the deck and a small sailboat almost brushed our railing as it headed out from the harbor.

“So, let me get this straight. You want me to drive down to the lot, walk down the south fence line, and see if there’s any sign of your digging last night?”

“Yeah, sort of.”

“But if the dogs ran you off-”

“Honest to God, Maria, you can’t tell anyone about that.” James’s eyes were wide and he grabbed her hand across the table.

“Because you are afraid you’ll get caught?”

“Because he’s embarrassed that the dogs almost caught up with him.” Em smiled. Always stirring the pot.

“Shut up, Em.” He let go of Maria’s hand and regrouped. “We left our shovels. But due to a boat arriving, we don’t think they paid much attention to the-”

“A boat? At that hour of the morning? Maybe it was a fishing boat.”

I leaned in. “We thought it was strange, too. Thirty-five people were on this boat. They all had suitcases with them.”

Maria frowned, looking out at the water.

“Strange things happen down here. You just never know.”

“Will you go look?”

She shrugged. “Why not? There are some nice cottages on that side of the property. I could just be scoping them out, you know, for possible sales.”

Em had called this one right.

“Of course, I would like to be considered if you find gold coins.”

“Yeah.” James and I both shouted together. We weren’t after gold coins. We were after pounds of gold bars. And this biker babe was going to give us a hand.

We stayed away, went nowhere near the scene of the crime. Maria met us at a Walgreens drugstore across from the post office.

“You’re right. There are several small clearings where you can see into the property. Your shovels are there, just laying on the ground.”

“And what about the ground?” James said.

“It appears to be dug up where the shovels are laying.”

We sat in the parking lot, Maria on the soft leather seat of her Harley, the three of us on that cracked vinyl bench seat in the truck.

“If they’d sent those dogs in to run you off, they would have searched the area and confiscated those shovels,” Em said. “As it is, they didn’t even check the grounds. The entire emphasis last night was on that boat. Maybe the dogs were to protect whatever cargo they had. You said they all carried suitcases.”

“Again, what time did that boat arrive?” I knew, but wanted to hear it again.

“Three thirty.” Em pointed to her watch.

“So we dig at two thirty tomorrow morning. Just in case there’s another boat at the same time.” I was determined to find what my shovel had hit this morning.

“I won’t be there. That’s past my bedtime, kids.” Maria pointed to her watch. “Speaking of time, I’ve got a house to show. Remember, if you find gold coins-”

She twisted the handle, adjusted the Harley engine to a throaty roar, and pulled out onto Highway 1.

“Think she’ll keep quiet?” I asked.

“I think she likes the idea of being a part of this little scheme.”

“Gold coins and all.”

“We’ll dig tonight, pard, but,” he turned to Em, “I hope we pay more attention to who shows up.”

She bristled.

James drove back to Pelican Cove.

“This time, I’m gonna take a short break, partner. Not much to do till early this morning is there?”

I studied him as we pulled into the parking lot.

“She’s married, James. You do know that.”

“She’s a big girl, Skip.”

Em nudged me and I opened the door and stepped out.

“I’m a big boy,” he said.

“Not necessarily a smart boy,” Em responded as she walked away.

James watched her, then turned to me and shook his head.

“I think it was Will Rodgers who said it best, my friend.”

“What was that, James?”

“He said, ‘Never miss a good chance to shut up.’”

“I never knew the man.”

“Yeah, well, he made sense.”

James walked in the direction of Holiday Isle, and I assumed he’d be occupied for the next several hours.

I left Em at the poolside bar with the popular Bobbie as I headed out to the check-in, a small building at the front of the resort. Our resort.

The girl I’d talked to when we found the body was sitting there staring at her computer screen.

She looked up when I opened the door.

“Oh, wasn’t that creepy?”

“It was.”

Doing a mock shiver, she smiled at me. “I still get goose bumps to think that, you know-and you? You had to see it. Oh, my God. You had to look at the body. Was it gross?”

“It was.”

She shuddered for real.

“I’ve got a question for you. Are you familiar with the water-front suites about a mile and a half down the road called Ocean Air Suites?”

“Sure. I’ve got a friend who cleans rooms there.”

“Really? It’s right next to that vacant lot, right?”

“Uh-huh. The strange lot that’s fenced in.”

“Who owns the suites?”

“You want to know who is her boss?”

“Yeah.”

“Doctor James O’Neill.”

“Really? The same guy who has the chiropractor business?” I don’t know why that surprised me, but I wasn’t expecting it.

She laughed. “He’s an orthopedic surgeon. I think there’s a difference.”

“Something to do with bones.”

She nodded.

“Do you know Doctor O’Neill?”

“Not really. He tends to keep to himself. Jan doesn’t know him either. She says he doesn’t show up very often. I think his practice keeps him busy.”

“She’s met him?”

“I think so. Maybe one time he showed up late in the morning with a group of tourists. Yeah. That was it. They were supposed to come in maybe two a.m. and the boat was delayed. She was cleaning rooms and he showed up with these people at nine in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“But the place is kind of weird. There are days when she’ll get a call and they don’t need her.”

“Off season, when it’s slow?”

“Not necessarily. It’s like that whole group will check in really late, sleep all day, and check out the next night. Not till maybe eleven p.m. So they lay her off for two days and then she’s got to clean every room the next day. Happens once or twice a month. She’s looking at some other job opportunities because this one is shaky. But the economy being what it is-”

“People who check in late and check out late? Ah, tourists. Who can understand them?”

“I just know that we need them.”

She smiled and looked back at her computer.

I joined Em at the bar, my beer already on the counter, light brown and bubbly, sparkling in the late afternoon sun.

Bobbie looked at me and frowned.

“My God, this girl, Amy,” Em said, “with James, she’s having an affair on top of an affair.”

“She’s on vacation, Emily. You can’t have too much fun.”

She smiled and sipped her beer, licking the foam off the top.

“Your good friend seems to have more fun than he should.”

I agreed. But I didn’t want Em telling me that. It was a guy thing. James was James. Em never seemed to get that.