Case of the Ostentatious Otters Page 2

  “Well, she needed to hear it,” Harry grumped.

  “Then let her hear it when the two of you are alone,” I suggested. “You can be angry with her, but you still have to respect her. Try it. It’ll work wonders, buddy. Trust me.”

  “Yeah, well… maybe.”

  We walked on in silence for another few minutes. Behind us, I could hear the girls whispering among themselves. Concern for my friend had me pulling him to a stop.

  “Are things okay with you and Julie?”

  “Not really, man,” Harry answered, with a sigh. “She always wants to go out and do something. I put in long hours at the clinic. All I want to do when I get home is put my feet up and have a few beers. Is that too much to ask for?”

  “You don’t think Julie works just as hard as you?” I countered. “You guys both need to unwind. Your kids are old enough to take care of themselves for a few hours, aren’t they?”

  Harry nodded, “Yeah. What’s your point?”

  “Do this. Next Friday, after the two of you get home after work, suggest to Julie that you want to take her to dinner. Pick a nice restaurant. Get dressed up a bit.”

  “You didn’t hear me, bro,” Harry complained again. “I want to put my feet up after I get home.”

  “And the compromise,” I slowly began, as I tried valiantly to refrain from throttling my dimwitted friend, “would be to look at it like this: for four days a week, you get to do just that. But, if you get into the habit of going out once, just the two of you, you’ll find that Julie will be much more tolerant of you wanting to stay home during the week.”

  Harry shrugged, “I suppose I could do that.”

  “Then, on the weekend, take her out.”

  “But, I just did that! I mean, on Friday night, remember? Why do we have to go out again? That gets expensive, man.”

  “You don’t have to buy something every time you go out,” I explained.

  “Huh? You don’t?”

  “No, you dillhole. Look, let’s say you wake up Saturday, approach Julie, and suggest you go to the home improvement store. What do you think Julie would do?”

  “She’d start planning the next project she’d want me to do, man. That’s a terrible idea.”

  “No, it isn’t,” I insisted. “Listen, take her to the store and just look around. Get some ideas. You don’t need to make any decisions right then and there. Let’s say you have a light fixture that you need to replace…”

  “…which we do,” Harry admitted. “Several.”

  “Right. Okay, let her pick out the fixture. Those aren’t that expensive. They’re easy to install, and…”

  “The hell they are!” Harry practically cried. “You’re talking ‘bout messing with electricity. I’m not sticking my hands in an electrical panel, thank you very much. It’s not my area of expertise. I’d be scared to death of getting zapped.”

  “Fine. Let her pick out the new light fixture…”

  “But…”

  “Let me finish. Let her pick it out and then give me a call. I’ll help you install it.”

  “You know how to install something like that?”

  “Piece of cake,” I assured him. “I’ll show you how to do it.”

  “I s’pose,” Harry mumbled.

  “See? It’s things like that. Show her that you still care about her. Umm, you do, don’t you?”

  “What? Of course I do.”

  “Then you need to start acting like it. If you lose her, then you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”

  “I hear you, man. Thanks.”

  “Thanks? For what?”

  “Thanks for the advice.”

  I looked back at Jillian and nodded. The smile my girlfriend gave me could have lit up the entire night sky. Er, if it happened to be dark, that is. Harry and I waited for the girls to catch up and then we separated back into the appropriate couples.

  “How’d that go?” Jillian quietly asked.

  “Pretty good,” I said. “He says he just wants to come home and put his feet up, even though Julie is always suggesting they go out. I gave him a compromise.”

  “And that is?” Jillian prompted.

  “Start up a date night. Take her to dinner. Then, on the weekend, take her out somewhere. He doesn’t have to buy her anything. It’s the thought that counts.”

  “It’s getting out of the house that counts,” Jillian corrected.

  Just then, Harry and Julie caught up to us. I looked expectantly back at Harry, who simply shrugged. Concerned, I looked over at Julie, who then gave me a small smile.

  “Tell us how things are going with Highland House,” Julie began. “How close are you to finishing up with the renovations?”

  “Within the next two weeks,” Jillian answered. “The furniture has been cleaned, reupholstered, and repaired as needed. It’s already starting to be returned to the house. I’ve even begun to pull things out of storage, to return them to the house.”

  “And, the, er, jewelry?” Julie hesitantly asked. “Are you sure you found it all?”

  Jillian shrugged, “I may never know. I’m fairly confident that we’ve found what we could.”

  “What about that big-ass jewel?” Harry asked, suddenly interested. “What did you do with that thing, anyway? Didn’t you tell us it was worth nearly nine figures?”

  “Nowhere near that much,” Jillian laughed.

  I kept my mouth shut. That was almost true. The Czarina’s Tear had been appraised for nearly 75 million, but that didn’t need to be common knowledge.

  “The Tear is on loan to a museum in Chicago,” Jillian answered. “They claim to have a security system which rivals Fort Knox, so I know the gem is protected.”

  “Some people get all the luck,” Harry angrily grumbled.

  I noticed a look of surprise, and then anger, appear on Julie’s face. Still holding Jillian’s hand, I gave it a warning squeeze and then gave a slight perceptible nod of my head in Harry’s direction. Jillian was careful to face forward as she rolled her eyes.

  “I wouldn’t worry about that jewel,” Jillian began. “I prefer to keep it at some place other than my home. The last thing I want people to know is that a gemstone worth eight figures is in my house. So, let the museum keep it.”

  “You’re letting the museum keep it?” Harry all but squeaked, with surprise.

  “That’s not what I meant,” Jillian hastily said.

  “We’re letting it be studied, admired, and so on,” I said, coming to Jillian’s aid. “What about you? I hear you’re thinking about adding another doctor to your staff?”

  “I don’t know, man,” Harry gloomily said. “They’re expensive. All the ones I’ve talked to want a helluva lot of money.”

  I heard a soft groan from Julie and realized I needed to change the subject. Rapidly.

  “Hey, listen. We’ve broken ground on the new warehouse for Lentari Cellars. We need to clear out some inventory. I’ve got five extra cases of Syrah lying around. Four of the cases would make those on the waiting list happy. As for the fifth, well, would you guys like one?”

  “A whole case?” Harry exclaimed, his gloomy mood evaporating faster than a fog bank in the full sun. “Are you serious, bro?”

  I nodded, “There could be more. Caden and I are going through what storerooms we have to try and take stock of everything. The next harvest will be bottled soon. We’re going to need all the room we can get.”

  “We’d be delighted,” Julie told us. “Thank you, Zachary.”

  “Yeah,” Harry echoed. “Thanks, bro!”

  “Thank you,” Jillian mouthed.

  I nodded and then shrugged. While none of that story had been true, the loss of a simple case of wine was a more than acceptable price to pay in order to get our two friends to stop bickering.

  Just then, I felt the leashes I had been holding go taut. I automatically glanced over at the dogs. Sherlock and Watson were both at the water’s edge, staring out at the open ocean. Curious as to what h
ad caught their attention, I arrived at their side. Jillian followed moments later.

  “What is it?” Jillian asked.

  I shrugged, “I’m not sure. I don’t see… wait. Hmm, I do see something. Do you see it? About 100 feet that way, to the west. There’s something floating in the water. At least, I think there is.”

  Sunset was less than an hour away, so that meant the four of us were practically staring straight at the sun, and shading our eyes with our hands. It made it hard to see, but there was definitely something floating on the water. Something black.

  “I think…” I began, as I studied the strange object, “it might be a sea lion. I’ve seen a few in the area.”

  “I don’t think that’s a sea lion,” Julie told me, as she squinted at the distant object. “It looks like… oh, dear lord. It looks like someone floating on the water, only they’re face down!”

  Jillian covered her mouth in horror. Within seconds, Julie was doing the same. As for Harry, well, he grunted once and shook his head in bewilderment. Wasn’t someone going to do something? I mean, what if it was a person? Wouldn’t they need some help? And, obviously if they’re floating face down in the water, then they did. That meant one of us was going to have to swim out there to pull them in. I certainly didn’t expect either of the girls to do it. That left me and Harry.

  You may remember me mentioning Harry had – conservatively – at least fifty pounds on me? He was nowhere close to being in shape. In fact, he’d probably have a heart attack if he tried any amount of physical activity. Seriously, I was going to have to see about getting him to lay off the beers. It couldn’t possibly be healthy for him. All that aside, though, it meant it was up to Yours Truly to swim all the way out there to see if the person needed help.

  “Aww, shit.”

  I quickly passed the leashes to Julie while tossing my cell and wallet to Jillian. I was about ready to head into the water when I remembered something. Experts always said that, if you had to jump in the water with your clothes on, then at the very least, remove your shoes. Why? That was because wearing shoes would make your feet feel heavier, and therefore make you swim in a disorderly manner.

  “Shoes, Zachary,” Jillian reminded me, as if she had been reading my mind.

  “Yeppers. I’m on it.”

  “Be careful,” Julie added.

  Kicking off my shoes, I waded into the water and within seconds, sucked in a breath. Holy moly! This water was freezing! Hours later, when Jillian and I were recovering in our hotel room, I found out why. The temperature of the water all along the northern Californian coast was typically a balmy 55°F. Now, that may not sound too bad, but trust me. It was cold. I wasn’t going to be able to last that long in it.

  The ground dropped off and I was forced to begin swimming. Keeping my eyes fixated on the black form ahead of me, I steadily swam toward what I was fervently hoping was something other than a dead human being. I mean, if it was a dead body, that meant I was gonna have to try and drag it back to shore.

  “Don’t be a corpse, don’t be a corpse, don’t be a corpse,” I chanted to myself, as I labored to keep my arms and feet moving. The last thing I wanted to know was that I was in the water with a dead person at the same time.

  Sure enough, Julie had called it. It was a body, and it was floating, face down, in the water. But why was it black, you ask? Well, that’s because the body was wearing a neoprene wet suit.

  Oh, joy. We just found a dead SCUBA diver.

  TWO

  “Which one of you was the one who found him?” a gruff voice asked, nearly thirty minutes later.

  I raised a hand and ordered myself again to stop shivering, “Th-that w-would be me.”

  “Really,” Jillian scolded. “Do we have to do this right this second? Zachary is freezing. That water is ice cold. Can we do this later, when he has had a chance to warm up?”

  “It’s all r-right,” I said to Jillian, as I held her hand. “I’ll b-be okay. Ask away, p-pal.”

  The four of us were sitting on some large, nearby boulders. I had a bright orange emergency blanket draped around my shoulders, and two uniformed medics were just finishing up a routine medical checkup on me. I guess everything was fine, because they began putting things back in their kits and then promptly left afterward. I looked up at the two cops, who had been watching, and tried grinning, only my teeth wouldn’t stop chattering. Trust me, it made trying to talk interesting. The first cop, the one who had asked who had found the body, stepped forward. He was tall, in his mid-fifties, and had thinning gray hair. He was holding a clipboard and looked annoyed, as though he was angry with me for making him do some paperwork. There was also a young female cop with him, who thus far, hadn’t said anything. She was probably in her late twenties, had bright red hair pulled up into a tight bun, and seemed uncertain what she had to do. Perhaps she was a rookie?

  “For the record, only one of you went in?” the senior cop asked, as he looked at the four of us.

  “Yes,” Julie answered. “We all spotted the body, but Zack was the one who volunteered to go out there to offer help.”

  “Do you have any idea who it is, man?” Harry asked.

  “Divers don’t typically carry ID in their wetsuits,” the female cop said, speaking her first words. “I’m a diver myself. I never carry ID on a dive. It’s usually stored in a locker, or with a friend who stays on the beach.”

  A question popped into my brain, but I wanted to wait a few moments. I was hopeful that I was done shivering for the time being.

  “H-have you found any vehicles n-nearby?” Damn my body. Why couldn’t I warm up? I must sound like a stuttering idiot. “Wh-what about the other diver?”

  “What other diver?” the first cop asked, interested. “Did you see another diver?”

  I shook my head, “Well, n-no, but that goes against everything you’re t-taught when you learn to dive.”

  “And what’s that?” the older cop wanted to know.

  “Never dive alone,” the female cop answered, giving me a nod of appreciation.

  “And how would you know that?” the second cop suspiciously asked, as he turned to look my way.

  “He learned to dive in high school,” Harry answered for me. “I know it might come as a shock, but we both did. Our P.E. instructor was one sadistic son of a…”

  Julie smacked him on the arm.

  “Watch your mouth.”

  Harry shrugged, “Whatever. Zack’s right. You don’t dive alone, bro. Too many bad things can happen.”

  “Like this,” Jillian softly said.

  “I wonder what he died of,” I mused, more to myself than to anyone.

  The female cop shrugged, “He probably just… cute dogs. Are they yours?”

  I looked over at Sherlock and Watson. Their ears were up, they were unblinking, and they were staring straight at the officers. If I didn’t know any better, then I’d say that neither dog trusted the two strangers. Why the corgis were giving the cops the stink eye, I wasn’t sure.

  Giving a grunt of exasperation, the older cop moved off, heading in the direction the M.E. was standing. The female cop squatted next to the dogs and held out her hand. Both dogs gave it a cautious sniff before each gave the hand a single lick. Grinning, the woman stood and held out a hand, the same which had just been licked.

  “Officer Marianne Adolphson.”

  I shook the offered hand, “Z-Zack Anderson. This is Jillian Cooper.”

  Harry then held out his hand and made his and Julie’s introductions. Remembering the dogs, I took a breath and was about to say their names when Sherlock decided I wasn’t moving fast enough for his liking and let out an short, ear-splitting bark. I ruffled the fur behind his ears and looked up at the cop.

  “And this is Sherlock. He doesn’t like to be excluded from introductions. Sniffing your right foot is Watson.”

  “Sherlock and Watson? Wait. Tell me you’re not from Oregon. What was the name of that town... Pomme Valley?”

&
nbsp; I shook my head as Jillian let out a delighted laugh.

  “Unreal. You’ve heard of my dogs?”

  “Are these really the two dogs I’ve heard so much about?” Officer Adolphson asked, as she pulled out her cell. She promptly snapped a few pics and then, presumably, sent them off to a few of her contacts.

  “They’re really them,” I admitted. “Tell me something, Officer, how...”

  “Please,” Officer Adolphson interrupted. “Call me Mary. It’s easier.”

  “Thanks. Okay, Mary, how do you know my two dogs?”

  “Are you kidding?” Mary exclaimed. “Everyone knows all about them. These two have solved two murder cases and located some type of valuable missing pendent. News like that will make the rounds, I assure you.”

  “Two murders?” Harry repeated, frowning. “It’s more than that, isn’t it?”

  “They are up to, er, 7 or 8 murders now,” I corrected, “and that doesn’t include busting a dog napping organization and locating a ton of jewelry missing since the 1940s.”

  Mary stared at the dogs with wonder in her eyes.

  “Oh, and don’t forget earlier this year,” Jillian said. “They solved your late wife’s murder case in Phoenix.”

  I snapped my fingers, “Forgot about that one. Seriously, I’m losing track of all of the cases they’ve closed. I honestly don’t know how they do it. I’m just here to make sure they get their kibble twice a day.”

  The older cop suddenly appeared by Mary’s side.

  “If you’re done socializing, Officer Adolphson,” the senior cop said, with a little bit of a sneer in his voice, “perhaps you could help me look for any signs of this mysterious second diver?”

  “Of course, Officer Lewis. Umm, I feel I should tell you something.”

  “Oh?”

  “Do you see the two dogs there?”

  “Of course. What about them? This is public land. As long as the owners clean up after them, they’re allowed to be here.”

  Mary nodded, “Correct. However, I was referring to their names. They are Sherlock and Watson, from Oregon. You heard about them. We were just talking about them last week.”