Case of the Chatty Roadrunner Read online

  “There is also a food truck outside,” Jillian reminded me. “I saw them when I took Watson out to go potty nearly half an hour ago. I think they were selling Mexican food.”

  “Ooo, that sounds good,” Vance grinned, as he rubbed his hands together.

  I shook my head, “I thought it sold Chinese food.”

  Vance shrugged and stood up, “Mexican, Chinese, I personally don’t care. I’ll have whatever is out there.”

  “What about the restaurant here in this hotel?” Jillian asked.

  Vance shook his head, “I’ll go there only if I can’t find anything good outside. In fact, you two stay here. I’ll go outside to see whose memory is the best.”

  While Vance was outside, no doubt confirming that the food truck was selling Mexican food, a group of people suddenly walked through the hotel’s main entrance. There were four guys and two women, and all of whom, I might add, were dressed in business attire. The four guys were wearing immaculate suits, while the two women wore blazers and skirts. None of them looked to be over forty.

  As the group passed us, every single one of them noticed the corgis and made a comment or two about how cute the dogs looked, especially since Sherlock raised his head and watched them walk by. I also might add that he had started woofing.

  “What do we do now?” Jillian excitedly whispered. “If Sherlock has taken notice, then wouldn’t that mean one – or all of them – are worth investigating?”

  I hastily pulled out my cell and began taking pictures as fast as I could. However, all I really accomplished was taking some quite tasteful butt shots of all of them. Damn! Vance is going to give me hell for missing the opportunity to get some photographic evidence we could use later.

  Apparently, the powers above deemed me worthy for a second chance because all of a sudden, the business-clad group of six appeared again in the lobby. This time, it looked as though they were angling for a tiny convenience store selling water, candy, and various other sundries. As the group made their selections, I noticed the two women were eyeing the corgis, as though they’d like to come over and say hello but were afraid to get dog hair on their clothes.

  Whatever.

  This time, both Jillian and I pretended to be engrossed with our phones, but we were instead covertly taking snapshots of the group as they walked by us for a third time. One of the women, the last to make a purchase at the tiny shop, and therefore the last to walk by us on their way out, held out her bag as she walked by. Uncertain of her intentions, I hesitated, only to have the bag thrust into my hands as she passed, all without breaking stride. Then she hurried to catch up to her companions, all without bothering to look behind her to see what I was doing with her bag.

  “What was that all about?” Jillian asked, confused. “Do you know that woman, Zachary?”

  I shook my head, “Nope. I’ve never seen her before in my life.”

  Jillian pointed at the bag, “Why did she give you that? What’s in it?”

  I pulled out a Snickers candy bar and stared at it, as though it was an alien artifact that had been smuggled out of Area 51.

  “A Snickers? She bought you a Snickers? What in the world for?”

  “I really don’t know,” I confessed. When I went to drop the candy back into the bag, the receipt caught my eye. Something had been scribbled on the back, with a blue pen:

  GLAD YOU’RE HERE. CAN’T TALK NOW, BEING WATCHED. HAVE SOMETHING YOU’LL WANT. WILL CALL USUAL TIME.

  “And you’re sure you don’t know her?” Jillian insisted.

  “I swear, I’ve never seen her before in my life.”

  “Never seen who before?” Vance wanted to know, as he slid back into his seat. He was holding several white paper bags, each of which had some enticing aromas emanating from within. “You lost, Zack. It was Mexican food.”

  “I gathered that from the smell. Oh, well. I won’t complain, seeing how whatever you have there smells great. Hey, did you see that group of six people come walking in here about 5 minutes ago?”

  Vance nodded, “Four guys and two girls?”

  “That’s the one. Well, one of the women just handed me this bag and didn’t say a damn thing about it.”

  Vance took the bag and looked in. His eyes lit up when he saw the Snickers.

  “Hey, my favorite. Do you mind?”

  “Go ahead,” I encouraged my friend. “But, before you do anything, check out the receipt.”

  Vance pulled the receipt out, smoothed it, and then noticed the writing on the reverse side. As soon as he flipped it over, he let out of grunt of surprise.

  “By any chance, did either of you get her picture?”

  “We were too slow on the first attempt,” Jillian informed him. “As soon as the dogs started woofing, we were pulling out our phones, only they had already walked by us.”

  “We got some great shots of their butts,” I added, with a grin.

  Vance groaned aloud, “That’s not gonna help us, buddy.”

  “I know that. The rest of that story is they came back to buy some stuff at that little store there. That’s when we took some pictures. But, as they all walked by us again, the lady bringing up the rear shoves this bag into my hands and then hurries off.”

  “Zack, how can you be so slow!” Vance moaned.

  “Hey!” I snapped, growing angry. “There’s no need to be snarky!”

  “Zack, don’t you get it? That woman must be your mystery caller. The note says that she’s glad to see you. It even says she’ll call you at the normal time. That’s 3:30 in the morning, right? Er, make that tomorrow morning? And didn’t you say that your mystery lady was your late wife’s coworker?”

  Oh. Okay, maybe I was a dumbass for not piecing it together sooner. Sure, there was a chance this woman has made a mistake and thought I was someone else, but more than likely, Vance will be right. She was evidently the source of my morning wake-up call for nearly a year.

  I eagerly pulled my phone back out and perused through the pictures.

  “Which one is she?” Vance asked, coming up to stare at my phone over my shoulder.

  “This one,” I said, as I zoomed in on the red-headed woman’s face.

  The woman in question looked to be in her late thirties, had crow’s feet around her eyes, which I thought was unusual since she appeared to be too young to have wrinkles, and bore a worried look on her face. I checked all the pictures I had taken of her, including Jillian’s as well, and noticed that not once had she bothered to look my way.

  “What do you think she has that you want?” Vance asked, breaking the silence. “Any ideas?”

  I shook my head, “None whatsoever. I might not have been the best with faces, but I would think I would have remembered meeting a friend of Sam’s.”

  “What are you saying?” Jillian asked. “Do you think she’s making up the part about being Samantha’s co-worker?”

  “I can’t imagine why she’d lie about that,” I said.

  Just as we were pulling the lunch Vance had procured for us out of the bags, a group of nearly forty similarly clad people, men and women alike, walked by us. They were merrily chatting among themselves and paid little attention to us. Sherlock and Watson, on the other hand, were on their feet and watching the procession. Almost immediately, Sherlock began his soft woofing. Watson didn’t bark, whine, or woof at any of them, although I could tell she was softly growling.

  The three of us must’ve looked like the Three Stooges. Burritos, tacos, and chimichangas went flying as we all abandoned our food and tried to nonchalantly pull out our phones and snap a few pictures. The woman who had given me the Snickers and the receipt with the message was also there, only as before, she didn’t make eye contact.

  She had said she was being watched. If this was Samantha’s co-worker, and was the one who was making insinuations that my wife’s death hadn’t been an accident, then maybe she was in some type of danger. Maybe she couldn’t stop to chat without giving herself away to the company’s bi
gwigs.

  The large group of Semzar employees, which consisted of both men and women, headed outside. Within moments, all forty of them had disappeared around the corner. However, I knew they had to be close, or else moving slow, because I could still hear them. I looked over at Vance, shrugged helplessly, and gathered up the dogs’ leashes. In a matter of moments, we were in pursuit.

  “Where are they going?” Jillian asked me, once she and Vance had caught up to us.

  I pointed at an area just to the left of where the mass of people seemed to be heading.

  “Just over there is a large grassy area. There are trees, a few tables, and there’s even a small pond. As for what they’re doing, I have no idea. I couldn’t even tell you what ‘team building’ even means.”

  Jillian was thoughtful as she considered.

  “If I were to venture a guess, then I’d say they are going to do some type of exercise where they’ll probably be forced to rely on their companions in order to accomplish it. You know, in an attempt to build up the trust that exists between people?”

  “Do people really do those sorts of things in a corporate environment like this?” Vance incredulously asked. “I mean, what benefit could it possibly provide?”

  Jillian started ticking off points on her fingers, “Increasing profits, building morale, and bolstering self-esteem, to name a few.”

  “Do you think we’ll be allowed to watch?” I asked.

  Vance nodded, “This is a public area. If they didn’t want any observers, then they shouldn’t have ventured outside. Come on. Let’s see how close we can get. I want to see who the dogs will single out.”

  Well, the answer to that question wasn’t an easy one. They woofed at practically everybody. Then again, they were all moving around, so it was hard to pinpoint anyone suspicious. What the hell were they doing, anyway? Playing a game of tag? Have you ever seen a group of grownups laughing hysterically as they’re chased around a field of grass? I was seriously tempted to record some of their antics and post it on YouTube.

  “There’s something you don’t see every day,” Jillian softly mused.

  “They’re acting like a bunch of idiots,” Vance added. “What are they doing?”

  I shrugged. I have never had any desire to work for a huge corporation, especially when they periodically held retreats and made their employees do that. But, I’m sure there was a legitimate, practical reason for it, or else they wouldn’t be doing it. But, I will have to admit, it looked as though everyone was enjoying themselves. Perhaps that was the reason? To force everyone to get along?

  Whatever.

  I had been to this little park before. Granted, it was a few years ago, and I had been happily married at the time, but I do know how big of an area this park encompassed. Plus, there were sidewalks running along the perimeter of the grass on three different sides, which consequently, were three different streets. Therefore, I felt I was able to approach the group from a different direction without raising any suspicions.

  “Where are you going?” Jillian wanted to know, as she saw me straighten and wrap the dogs’ leashes around my hand.

  “I’m going for a little walk,” I told her. I unwound Watson’s leash and held it out to her. “I want to see if either of the dogs will react to anyone over there, so I need to get them as close to those people as I can. Would you care to join me?”

  Vance was nodding, “Great idea. A couple is less likely to arouse suspicion. Go with him, Jillian.”

  “And what are you going to do?” my girlfriend asked, as she took Watson’s leash.

  Vance reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out one of those Bluetooth earpieces that had a distinctly cyborg flavor about it. He hooked it over his ear and waggled his phone.

  “I’m going to pretend to be on the phone,” our detective friend informed us. “Although, what I’ll probably be doing is recording some notes about these people and watching you two like a hawk.”

  Satisfied, Jillian and I moved off. Delighted to be taken on a walk, especially when huge expanses of lawns were involved, the corgis immediately pulled us over to the grass. I couldn’t blame them. Who’d want to walk on concrete when a much more comfortable option was available?

  We headed east, back by the front of the hotel, and approached the fountain I had spotted from the hotel’s front entrance. Sherlock moved as close as he could to the water’s edge without sticking a toe in. The inquisitive little corgi sniffed a few times at the splashing water, then turned to look up at me, as though he was requesting permission to jump in.

  “Not on your life, amigo. Push that thought out of your little puppy brain.”

  We walked around the fountain, all the while keeping the frolicking antics of the Semzar employees in our sights. Then, after a few more minutes of allowing the dogs to sniff the water, we angled north, and then slightly west, which put us on the same lawn with the group of people playing ‘tag’. At least, that’s what it looked like they were doing.

  As we walked closer, we started to get noticed. Not us, mind you, but the dogs. We started hearing all the telltale ‘Ooos’ and ‘Ahhs’, and remarks stating how cute the dogs were. A few of the people even broke away to come meet the corgis, which was exactly what I wanted to happen. Sherlock and Watson sniffed and licked nearly a dozen different hands before we got our first hit: a tall, slim elderly gentleman, wearing a light grey stylish suit that had a shorter jacket and padded shoulders. The suit’s pants were slim-fitting and snug, and I couldn’t help but admire the guy for pulling off the look. Hell, I could never look that good in a suit. This guy was dressed to the hilt and exuded confidence. He had to be a Semzar executive of some sort.

  “Those are some mighty fierce-looking watchdogs you have there,” he quipped, as he smiled down at the dogs. He stretched out a hand, intent on ruffling the top of Sherlock’s head.

  Right about then, I noticed Sherlock’s ears. They were flat against his skull and, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say the little corgi had narrowed his eyes. It almost looked as though Sherlock was daring this guy to touch him. I was going to have to intervene, or else Mr. Fancy Pants here was gonna get wind up with a dog bite and I would end up getting sued.

  “Careful there, pal,” I cautioned. “Sherlock hasn’t been feeling too well today. He’s been acting a little nippy lately.”

  The hand paused in its descent. After a few moments, the elderly man straightened and turned to look at me.

  “Thank you for the warning. I appreciate your honesty.”

  “No problem,” I said, as I nodded at the guy.

  “Emil Gregory,” the man announced, as he held out a hand.

  Uh, oh. I couldn’t give this guy my real name. What if he recognized the name ‘Anderson’ and put two and two together? Think, Zack. Think!

  “Hi, I’m Mike. Er, Mike Wadsworth.”

  Emil turned to Jillian and waited patiently for an introduction.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” I sputtered. “Where are my manners? This is, er, Destiny Williams.”

  “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Williams. Your dogs are absolutely adorable. These are the same dogs the Queen of England prefers, are they not?”

  Jillian nodded and gave each of the dogs a pat on the head.

  “They sure are. Welsh Corgi Pembrokes, favored by the good queen herself. Ain’t that right, sugar?”

  I quickly closed my mouth, which had dropped open the instant Jillian had begun to speak. Since when could she speak with a flawless southern accent? I grinned. That woman will never cease to amaze me.

  “It sure is, babe. So, Emil, if you don’t mind me asking, what are you guys doing? Besides running around like a bunch of lunatics, that is.”

  Emil turned to regard the mass of people who were busy sprinting from one side of the grassy field to the other, like a group of school children at recess. He gazed admiringly at them for a few moments before turning back to me. He gave me an evasive shrug and smiled.

  “They’
re just blowing off some steam. It’s not every day you see grown men and women act like that, is it?”

  “No, it isn’t,” I chuckled. “I do believe I’m in the wrong type of work.”

  Emil slipped me a business card, “If you’re ever looking for something new to do, do give me a call.”

  I looked down only long enough to see the words Semzar Pharmaceuticals written in gold ink across the face of the card.

  “I will, sir. Thank you!”

  “Ma’am,” Emil added, as he turned to Jillian. Then he wandered back to a small group of three men and one older woman to observe the antics of his employees.

  “Come on,” Jillian instructed, as she hooked her arm through mine and led me on a course which would skirt around Semzar’s activities, but be close enough to get a better look.

  “Since when could you talk with a southern accent?” I asked, as I dropped my voice to a whisper.

  “Hey, I’m sorry! ‘Destiny Williams’ sounded like a southern girl. I was just playing my part. I assumed you didn’t want to use our real names?”

  I nodded, “Yeah, it just came to me, only I wasn’t prepared for it.”

  “One would think writers would be able to think quickly on their feet,” Jillian teased.

  “Usually I can, but obviously I didn’t back there. Wow. Talk about your mother-of-all brain farts.”

  Several more employees approached us and asked permission to pet either of the dogs. I noticed how none of the six or seven people who wandered over had tried to reach a hand down to pet either Sherlock or Watson. Had Emil given his people a warning? Either way, it didn’t matter. Sherlock and Watson absolutely loved the attention, and didn’t growl once at the any of them.

  As I watched these strangers interact with my dogs, I tried to see if my mystery caller was contemplating an approach. I found her, only because she was one of the few red-headed women who were there, but she was nowhere near me or the dogs. In fact, it looked as though she was trying to keep as much distance as possible between us.