Later that afternoon, we were back at the waterfront. Once again, I was holding the towels, since this time, we were encouraging the dogs to go in the water. Both of them were still restless, and I was hoping some good, old-fashioned exercise would take some of the edge off. For all you corgi owners out there, you’ll back me up. If your dog, who is already highly active to begin with, exhibits signs that they could possibly wear a path in the linoleum, then it’s time to get them outside to burn off some of that energy.
So far, it seemed to be working. Just as soon as we made it back to the hotel, I changed into swimming trunks and a tank top (I had no intentions of going in the water, but to be safe, in case one of the dogs needed help, I was going to be prepared). We checked in on Harry and Julie, but saw a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on their door, so we left them alone. With leashes in hand, we headed back to the beach, and thankfully, this was where the dogs seemed to be wanting to go. Walking along the waterfront once more, while watching the dogs’ antics, I decided to multitask and again, found myself staring at the ground, looking for bits of glass. Finding a few that fit the parameters Jillian had previously laid out, I gathered them up.
“Do you need any more green pieces?” I asked, as I studied a quarter-sized, slightly curved piece of dark green glass I had found.
Jillian studied the piece and eventually nodded, “I have a few others already, but let’s keep this one, just in case. I like the shape of it.”
I pulled out the resealable sandwich bag I had in my pocket and dropped in the piece. That’s when I heard a splash. Turning, I saw Sherlock swimming steadily away from shore.
“What do you think you’re doing? Get back here, you goofball!”
I heard Sherlock snort, then turn around so that he was looking at me. Bear in mind, he was about twenty feet away from shore, just lazily floating on the water. Somehow, that little booger knew I couldn’t float on the water like he could, and he was taunting me with it.
“Don’t aggravate the person who feeds you, pal,” I warned the feisty corgi. “You’d better not make me get wet.”
Sherlock snorted again and then easily swam back to shore.
“What’s with you, pal? Why would you… ack! Pbbbth! Don’t shake yourself off next to me! Why you little snot. That’s it. You’re asking for it.”
Now, I should point out that, for all intents and purposes, I was acting like I was mad. I wasn’t. Sherlock and I played this all the time back home. This was me, signaling to Sherlock, that I intended to chase his furry butt. Sherlock, for his part, immediately crouched low and wiggled his stub of a tail. He yipped a challenge, as if to say, Come and get me, lardball.
I tossed the towels over at Jillian, who was giggling uncontrollably as she wrestled with her purse to find her phone. Knowing her, she’s gonna record this and share it with others at the most inopportune time in the future. Whatever. I really didn’t care.
I took off after Sherlock, who yipped once, turned tail, and bolted in the opposite direction. Watson, not wanting to be left out, suddenly raced by me, on a direct line which would have her intercept her packmate well before I could get there. Together, the two corgis then turned right, raced toward me, as though they were playing chicken, and then turned away again at the last possible moment.
Those little bastards were still taunting me! They knew I’d never be able to catch them. Oh, yeah? Two can play this game.
I immediately turned in the other direction and sprinted away. I then heard twin barks of annoyance and, suddenly, two sleek forms zipped by me. Realizing I was now chasing the dogs again, I reversed course one more time and took off back the way we had just come.
Sherlock barked again. This time, I could hear the exasperated tones in his bark. What happened next, I’m sorry to say, would make me the featured video of the day on YouTube. Sherlock came up racing up behind me and nudged my left heal with his snout. It was just enough to push my left foot into the path of my right, and down I went. Hard. And, since I had been running, my mouth had been wide open.
Thankfully, there was sand everywhere, and I was spared any physical injury. It didn’t help my ego, though, as I rolled to my knees and spit out a mouthful of sand. Ever have sand in your mouth? How about an entire mouthful?
I glared at Sherlock, who was sitting next to me with an amused expression on his face. Watson, for her part, had cuddled up next to me, as though she thought I had been hurt. And that’s when I saw her. Jillian, my wonderful girlfriend, had her phone out and was recording. Plus, she was laughing so hard she had tears running down her face.
“Thaks a lop,” I told her, as I tried valiantly to get every grain of sand out of my mouth. “Did you record all that?”
Jillian passed me her water bottle and nodded her tear-streaked face.
With my mouth properly rinsed, I turned back to the dogs, but noticed they were no longer there. Judging by the tracks in the sand, they had wandered around a group of large rocks and were, presumably, back at the water’s edge. Curious as to what they were doing, I made it four steps when I heard the chirps and coos. It was the otters. Apparently, the corgis were otter-watching again. They were standing, motionless, at the extreme edge of the shore and were staring out at the open ocean.
“I think our otter friends are back,” I said, as I took Jillian’s hand. “Come on, I want to chaperone them. I don’t want them enticing Sherlock to come in the water to play with them.”
I heard the splash and cursed mightily. Jillian and I hurried to the water’s edge and skidded to a stop. I had just started to pull my tank top up when Jillian laid a hand on mine to stop me.
“Look, Zachary. You were right. They’re playing!”
Sherlock was swimming steadily in circles as the otters danced through the water. Furry heads would pop up less than a foot from Sherlock’s head, a soft chirp would be heard, and by the time Sherlock looked in that direction, the otter would already be gone.
Relaxing somewhat, I took Jillian’s hand and, together, we made for the closest rock that was suitable for sitting. After a few moments, I wrapped my arm around her waist. Jillian snuggled closer as we watched the antics in the water.
“I like it here,” I said, in a soft tone. “And I have to tell you, I’m really looking forward to getting my SCUBA certification again.”
“I’m glad, Zachary. I think we’ll have a lot of fun together.”
I thought about the bottle of Crystal Rose that was due to arrive in two days at the hotel and shook my head. I never thought I’d be this content again. Or this happy. You know what they say about lightning, right? That it never strikes the same place twice? I used to think that about love as well. I never would have imagined I could feel this way again. Just to think, in as little as two years ago, I was pining away, in Phoenix, alone and miserable. And now? I’m with a beautiful woman. I own a winery that my late wife, Samantha, would be proud of, and have two corgis who adore me.
I thought back to the sand in my mouth and grunted. Well, at least one does. Watson, sensing my thoughts, nuzzled up against my leg and looked up at me.
“I’m just teasing. I know you both love me.” I looked over at Jillian and saw that she was studying the bay. I gave her shoulder a friendly squeeze. When she looked over at me, I smiled. “Penny for your thoughts.”
“I was just thinking about my parents.”
“Oh? What about them? They should be back home by now, shouldn’t they?”
Jillian nodded, “They are. I texted them earlier to see when they’d arrive, and they informed me that they cut their last stop out of the trip and had already arrived home.”
“Oh? Why’s that?”
“I think it’s because they’ve been gone for over two years now. Seriously, would you want to live in an RV for that long?”
“I would as long as you were there with me,” I automatically answered.
Jillian gave me a kiss on the cheek and laid her head on my shoulder.
“Good answer, Zachary. Good answer.”
I heard a whine and, looking down, I saw that Watson was still staring at me.
“Fine. That goes for you two as well. Wow. Two years, huh? That’s a long time.”
“They did travel all across North America,” Jillian pointed out. “And even up into Canada.”
“They must truly love to travel.”
“My mother does,” Jillian corrected.
“And your father?” I prompted. “He doesn’t?”
“Not so much.”
“What does your father like to do?”
“To see my mother happy,” Jillian said, with a giggle.
“Did they manage to hit every state like they said they wanted?” I asked.
“All but Hawaii, obviously. And, they even hit all ten provinces in Canada.”
“Wow. So, that means they hit Alaska, too?”
Jillian nodded, “Yes. They liked it so well that they stayed for a full month in Anchorage.”
“I liked Anchorage,” I said, thinking back to my trip up north. “Beautiful city. Rugged scenery. Loved the mountains you could see south of the city. You’re going to love it.”
“I can’t wait for our cruise!” Jillian exclaimed. “Just think, we’ll be there next summer, in June! A cruise up the Inside Passage. It’ll be…”
“…romantic?” I finished for her, after she trailed off.
“Well, yes, but that wasn’t what I was going to say. I was thinking, it’ll be breathtaking.”
“Due to the temperatures,” I guessed. “I wonder how cold it’ll be?”
“I was referring to the raw beauty,” Jillian corrected. “Alaska is the biggest state in the country, and yet has one of the lowest populations. I can’t wait to see it!”
“I’m looking forward to it,” I assured her.
The ring of my cell phone shattered the tranquility of the moment. Sighing, I pulled out my phone and looked at the display. While not recognizing the number, I did recognize the area code. Someone from Monterey was calling me.
“Hello?”
“Is this Zachary Anderson?”
“It is. Who’s this?”
“Officer Marianne Adolphson.”
“Oh, I remember you. Hello, Mary. How’s it going? What can I do for you?”
“I thought you’d like to know… we received an official response from the aquarium.”
“About that guy’s death? How’d that go?”
“They expressed remorse, obviously, but something about their attitude is… I don’t know.”
I couldn’t help it.
“Fishy?” I guessed.
“Yes, that’s it,” Mary laughed. “Listen, I was about ready to head over there to talk to the Director. He’s expecting me in about thirty minutes. Being an official police consultant for Pomme Valley, and since you’re the one who discovered the body, I have permission to invite you along, if you’d like.”
“Just a moment. Let me ask Jillian.”
“Of course.”
I muted the call and turned to Jillian.
“It’s Mary, from the police. She’s inviting us to accompany her to talk to the guys at the aquarium. Do you want to go?”
Jillian nodded, “Sure. But, I think you’re forgetting something.”
“What’s that?”
Jillian looked over at Sherlock, who was still swimming in the water, cavorting with the playful otters. She then looked down at Watson and scratched behind her ears.
“We can’t leave the dogs here.”
“We can take them with us,” I argued.
Jillian shook her head, “Not into an aquarium, we can’t. There’s no way they’d allow pets in there.”
“Hey, bro,” a familiar voice suddenly said. “There you are. We’ve been looking for you.”
Harry and Julie appeared, looking somewhat disheveled, if you ask me. I gave my friend a sly grin. Julie noticed the look Harry and I gave each other and blushed.
“Perfect timing, pal,” I said, as Jillian and I rose to our feet. “I need you to dog sit for us.”
Harry nodded, “Sure. Where’re you headed? Did the dogs find a lead in the cold coin case?”
“Cold coin case,” I scoffed, chuckling. “No. That’s fairly low on the totem pole. If Sherlock happens to find the coin, great. However, right now, we’re headed to the aquarium. The police invited us to talk with the aquarium bigwigs about the death of their star diver.”
“We’d love to take care of your dogs for you,” Julie told us. She looked left, then right. “Umm, I see Watson. Where’s Sherlock?”
I tossed the towels to Harry and pointed at the water, “Sherlock is over there, swimming with some otters. You’ll need to thoroughly dry him off when he comes out. Thanks, pal!”
“What?” Harry sputtered, as he stared at the towels. “I don’t wanna… you owe me!”
Thirty minutes later, Jillian and I were strolling through the front entrance of the world famous Monterey Bay Aquarium. This facility opened in 1984, and has won numerous awards for their exhibition of wildlife, their conservation efforts, and their educational programs. This non-profit facility draws around two million visitors a year, and has to be the most visited aquarium in the country.
“I’ve always loved coming here,” Jillian told me, as we took a seat just inside the front entrance, at the ‘Membership and Tours’ section.
“I can see why. I really like the layout. I mean, look at that over there. The sign says, ‘Kelp Forest’. I’ve seen kelp before, but good grief, I didn’t know it grew that tall.”
“It says it can get up to 28 feet tall,” Jillian said.
“Where’s it say that?” I wanted to know.
Jillian pointed at the large tank, visible through the open doorway.
“Right there, next to the Kelp Forest sign.”
“I need to have my eyes checked,” I grumbled. “I see the sign you’re talking about, but don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of reading that from this distance.”
Five minutes later, Officer Adolphson appeared, in full uniform. She spotted us sitting on one of the benches and strolled over.
“Mr. Anderson, Ms. Cooper, thank you for joining me.”
“Is Officer Lewis not joining us today?” Jillian asked, as she looked behind Mary to see if she could spot any other police officers.
“Nope, it’s just me today. Had I been making an arrest, or executing a warrant, then I’d have backup. As it is, a simple meeting doesn’t necessitate any additional man power.”
“Yet, you called us,” I reminded her.
Mary shrugged, “It was the captain’s idea. Personally, I think he didn’t want me to go alone.”
“That’s nice,” Jillian decided. “Or condescending, I haven’t decided which yet.”
“That makes two of us,” Mary crossly agreed. “Anyway, are we ready to go in? I see two staff members headed our way.”
We rose to our feet just as two people, an older man wearing a blue polo shirt emblazoned with the aquarium’s logo on the upper left breast pocket and khaki pants, and a woman approached. He looked to be slightly older than I was and had black hair with just a few touches of gray. The woman accompanying him was in her late twenties, had short, curly brown hair, and wore a similar outfit, only her shirt was green. As I had noticed with our coin-collecting friend, Chet, both staff members sported dark tans, as though they spent a great deal of time outdoors.
“Jonathan Hawk,” the man said, by way of introducing himself. “I’m director of the aquarium. This is Heather Rasmussen. She’s head of Human Resources. Thank you for meeting with us.”
“On behalf of the Monterey Police Department, thank you for having us,” Mary formally responded. “I’m Officer Marianne Adolphson. This is Zack Anderson and Jillian Cooper. Both are from Pomme Valley, Oregon. Zack is a police consultant, and just so happened to be the person who spotted the body in the water.”
The director held out an arm, indicating we should head farther into the aquarium.
“Please, let’s talk somewhere a little more private, shall we?”
“You’re from Pomme Valley?” Heather asked, as we headed past the ‘Mission to the Deep’ sign and then past the Kelp Forest exhibit. “I’ve been up there a few times. They’ve got some great wine up there.”
“They do, indeed,” Jillian agreed. “If you don’t mind me asking, which one is your favorite?”
“Oh, gosh. There are so many. I think I’d have to say that Syrah is my favorite.”
“Do you have a favorite winery?” Jillian pressed.
Heather nodded, “I do. It’s a different sounding name, so I’m not sure if I’m remembering it correctly. There’s something about cellars in the title.”
At this, I stopped and turned to look at their head of HR.
“Cellars? As in, Lentari Cellars?”
Heather snapped her fingers, “That’s it. You’ve heard of it?”
I nodded, “You could say that. I own it.”
Our group came to a sudden stop. The director turned to me, with skepticism written all over his face, and placed a hand on my shoulder.
“You’re telling me you’re the owner of the finest wine I’ve ever tasted outside of Italy?”
“I’ll pass that on to Caden, my winemaster,” I promised, as I gave Mr. Hawk a grin. “The only thing I’m responsible for is writing the checks.”
“You ought to know, we serve your wine in our restaurant, Mr. Anderson.”
“I had no idea,” I confessed. “And please, call me Zack.”
“Well, Zack, I may need to talk to you once this unfortunate business is all over. We’re thinking about opening another restaurant at our facility, and naturally, we’d like to feature your wine. Perhaps, some type of trade could be arranged?”
I nodded, “I’m sure we can work something out, Mr. Hawk.”
“If I have to call you Zack, then you can call me Jon.”
“Got it,” I nodded. “Will do, Jon.”
The five of us headed through a large set of glass doors, emerging outside. Jon steered us toward what was labeled as a ‘Wildlife Viewing Station’ and brought us to a stop. We were now facing west, overlooking the mighty Pacific Ocean. Down below us, to our left, was what the staff called their Great Tide Pool. As I stood there, staring down at the thousands and thousands of gallons of water, I couldn’t help but feel I had seen this before. I just didn’t know how, since this was my first visit to this aquarium.
“What’s the matter?” Jillian suddenly asked. “You’re frowning.”
“I’ve seen this before,” I told my girlfriend. I swept my arm across the pool and shook my head. “I just don’t know how or where.”
“At the movies,” Jon said, grinning.
I turned to the director, “Hmm? What was that?”
“The Great Tide Pool. It’s been featured in films, but most notably, this was the home of George and Gracie, two humpback whales…”
“…from Star Trek IV,” I finished. “Thanks, pal. That would have driven me nuts. Wow. It was really filmed here?”
“The whales weren’t real, of course,” Jon said.
“It was just some Hollywood magic,” Heather added.
Mary cleared her throat. She was holding a small notebook in one hand and a pen in the other.
“Could I ask you some questions about Mr. Jack Carlton now?”
Jon nodded, “Of course. As our press release stated, we at MBA are incredibly saddened by this loss. Jack Carlton was a truly gifted SCUBA diver, aquarist, and conservationist, and will be missed by all.”
Now, I may not have a photographic memory, but that certainly sounded like it was, word-for-word, identical to what was on the aforementioned press release. I glanced over at Heather, and saw what I thought to be a look of regret pass over her features. I squeeze Jillian’s hand, and when she was looking at me, nodded in Heather’s direction.
“Is it true that Mr. Carlton only worked here part-time?” Mary continued.
Jon nodded, “That’s correct. He divided his time between us, the east coast, New Zealand, and London.”
“Was he associated with any institutions in New Zealand or England?”
Jon shrugged, and looked expectantly at Heather.
“No, he wasn’t,” Heather answered.
“Then why did he spend so much time there?” I asked.
“That’s where he was paid to go,” Heather said, shrugging.
“Paid by whom?” Mary wanted to know.
“National Geographic. He was one of their top divers. They sent him all around the globe. From what Jack told us, they usually send him to either Wellington or London.”
“Do you know where he was sent to last?” Mary asked, scribbling furiously.
Heather looked at Jon, “Wasn’t it somewhere in South America? Venezuela, I think.”
“I don’t know,” Jon admitted. “If you check his dive log, I’m sure it’d tell you where he dove last.”
“I’m glad you brought that up,” Mary said, as she finished writing notes. She looked up at the director. “We’re going to need to see his dive log. We need to know where he was diving, and most importantly, who he was diving with.”
“Logs,” Heather corrected. “He has at least five thick, diving logs. That’s how much Jack loved the water.”
“How well did you know him?” Mary asked. “You keep referring to him as ‘Jack’ and not ‘Mr. Carlton’.”
Heather blushed, “Oh, umm, not that well, really. I mean…”
The head of HR trailed off as she noticed the disapproving frown on Jon’s face.
“Did the two of you have something going on?” Jon coolly asked, using a neutral tone of voice.
I blinked with surprise. The director’s question, while not accusatory nor derogatory, seemingly dropped the ambient temperature in the area by at least thirty degrees. I’m surprised my breath didn’t come out in visible puffs of air.
“That was a long time ago,” Heather reluctantly admitted. “I’ve moved on.”
“Why didn’t I know anything about this?” Jon demanded.
“Because it would have been frowned upon,” Heather said, with a sigh.
“Damn right,” Jon snapped. He suddenly remembered he wasn’t alone and looked over at the three of us and let out a sheepish grin. “I apologize. You shouldn’t have had to witness that. As I was saying, if you want to know where Mr. Carlton,” Jon continued, throwing the tiniest bit of emphasis on the proper way to refer to the deceased, “then you’ll have to get your hands on those log books.”
“Where are they now?” Mary asked.
“They should be in his office,” Jon stated. He pointed back the way they had come. “It’s this way. I’ll take you to them.”
“We appreciate your cooperation,” Mary was saying. “While we’re headed toward the deceased’s office, let me ask you a question.”
“Go ahead,” Jon said, as he held open the glass door for us and waited for the four of us to reenter the building.
“Volunteers. How many volunteers does the aquarium actually have?”
Jon looked back at Heather. “Ms. Rasmussen, would you care to field this one?”
“Of course,” Heather quickly said. “At any time, the aquarium has nearly a thousand volunteers.”
I whistled with amazement, “Wow! Really? That’s incredible.”
“Each of our aquarists usually have one or two dedicated volunteers,” Heather continued, “which would then help that staff member maintain their exhibits.”
Jillian suddenly nodded, “Let me venture a guess. Mr. Carlton had more, didn’t he?”
“He had a very dedicated 5 or 6,” Heather confirmed. “In addition, he was the only aquarist on staff who had a waiting list of people wanting to volunteer for him.”
“And why’s that?” I wanted to know. “Was this guy that popular? Seriously, all I can think about now is that Dos Equis commercial. You know, it’s the series of commercials which featured The Most Popular Man in the World?”
Heather smiled briefly, “I know the ones you mean. However, it isn’t true, since… well, let me rephrase. Depending on how you look at it, it could be. Jack, er, Mr. Carlton, was known for making trips all over the world.”
“You guys mentioned that,” I recalled.
“His work has been featured in magazines and he has had a hand in filming numerous specials.”
My eyebrows shot up, “Really? That’s impressive.”
Heather nodded, “If you wanted to get your toe in the door of an animal husbandry career, then having Jack Carlton on your side would be the ultimate reference.”
I grunted, “Damn. If that isn’t a reason to volunteer for someone, then I don’t know what is. But, you said this aquarium has around a thousand? Let me ask you, what would this place do with that many volunteers?”
“There are all kinds of programs in place for our volunteers,” Heather advised, as we walked by exhibit after exhibit. “Everyone wants to be a docent, but since those of our volunteers who have attained docent status don’t want to give that up, we have quite a long waiting list in place.”
“What is the difference between a docent and a volunteer?” Jillian wanted to know.
“Your basic volunteer is there to pretty much do whatever task has been assigned to them,” Heather explained. “Clean tanks, feed animals, run errands, and so forth.”
“You let volunteers feed the animals?” I skeptically asked. “Pardon me for saying so, but does that sound like it could be dangerous for your animals?”
Heather laughed, “Well, you’d think so. However, assistant animal keeper has to be the second most sought-after status a volunteer strives for, with docent holding first place. Now, you asked about docents? Well, docents are those volunteers that don’t get their hands dirty. They will guide people through exhibits. They’ll talk to the general public about their assigned species. They’re the ones who typically speak for the aquarium when an actual staff member isn’t present.”
“I can only imagine the amount of rules and guidelines that must be in place for those people,” Jillian surmised.
“Pages and pages,” Heather agreed. “And, when a volunteer is promoted to ‘docent’ status, they have a rigorous and thorough training program they have to pass.”
“On top of agreeing to have a background check run on them,” Jon added.
We were walking down a brightly lit hall, with rectangular openings placed every five feet. Each of the openings must have been a separate tank, since each window depicted a different species. Jon walked up to a concealed door, produced a ring full of color-coded keys, and selected a green-ringed key.
Opening the door, he guided all of us in. Having never been behind the scenes at any type of aquarium, or zoo, for that matter, I found the experience interesting. While on the other side of that door, every effort had been made to make it look as aesthetically pleasing as possible. On this side, however, nothing could’ve been further from the truth.
Pipes were running everywhere, from along the sides of the walls, to great big plastic mains running overhead. The window tanks, I could see, were just large 20 gallon aquariums, resting on wooden support platforms. A wooden boardwalk ran directly behind the tank, so that the attending aquarist would be physically higher than the tank itself, and could therefore observe the tank’s occupants, perform maintenance, and so forth.
“That’s really slick,” I quietly observed, as I couldn’t decide where to look first. Things were happening everywhere. “Here is someplace I wouldn’t want to be after dark.”
Heather laughed, “You sound like our swing keepers. We went through quite a few to find the two that trade off during the week. You’d think one of our exhibits featured Freddy Krueger.”
“This place does make some unusual noises at night,” Jon agreed, as he led us down the narrow walkway. “Here we are. Mind your step. If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you Mr. Carlton’s office.”
I held Jillian’s hand as we carefully stepped down the narrow wooden steps, which returned us to floor-level. We followed Mary, as she disappeared through an open doorway, which led into a small sitting room. Three other doors were visible, only one, however was open. And, it just so happened to be the one Jon had stopped in front of, and was now staring, aghast, at what was visible through the open door.
The office had been ransacked!