Read Online Cowabunga Christmas by Anna Celeste Burke - Free Book Online

could it?”
    “It
started off small—as a way for someone at the resort to make money by
substituting counterfeit items to snooty guests, putting cheaper stuff into the
gift shops and skimming off the difference in costs. Then it got bigger and
they began selling the knock-offs to stores and right off the back of the
truck. Not in San Albinus, mind you, but in Monterey and Salinas, bigger cities
not too far away.”
    “Okay,
they pick this stuff up in boats, and then unload it at the dock?”
    “That’s
right, Brien. There’s an access road that leads to a boat launch where they parked
a truck, late at night, and transported the goods from the dock. Owen figured out
what was going on by eavesdropping on a couple of regulars at the Hideaway
where he worked. One night, he heard them talking about leaving a few items
behind. A helicopter patrol spooked them and they let the stuff float away.
When they gave up on the idea of retrieving the lost goods, Owen decided to cut
himself in on the action. The spearfishing became a cover. At first, he hauled
back the leftovers those guys were talking about—cases of counterfeit games. Packed
to keep water out, they had drifted into a shallow area near the caves in the
cliffs. Willow took me up to an overlook and pointed out the spot Owen showed
her.”
    “Wow, Owen
was a crafty Santa, wasn’t he?”
    “Oh,
yeah. Ambitious too, as it turned out. Owen stole that dinghy and GPS so he
could track where those guys were picking up the loot and cut in on them. He
spied on the runners at night, picked up their leftovers, and sometimes helped
himself before they got there.”
    “Stealing
right out from under their noses had to be risky. That must be what got him
killed.”
    “It’s
a good possibility. Willow says she warned Owen, but he argued that he wasn’t
taking much—a pilot fish swimming along with the sharks. Willow got more and
more upset as he kept bringing stuff to her, perfume and cosmetics, designer
bags and boxes of shoes—Jimmy Choos, no less.”
    “Oh
no, Jessica won’t like that,” Brien said.
    “You
are so right!” That was the first thought that had come into my mind when I saw
those shoes. Jessica would be so ticked, given how much she pays for a pair.
“Willow showed me sandals Owen had given her. They looked like the real deal to
me. Anyway, this is where Owen really becomes crafty Santa. Stuff’s piling up
and Owen’s got a new problem: how to get rid of his pirate booty. That’s when
he got the idea to buy the Santa suit—so he could haul his loot up through the
resort in a sack like the resort Santas carry. That suit showed up next. Willow
said by then their shack was starting to look like Santa’s workshop.”
    “What
did he do with it once he got to town?”
    “Willow’s
not sure, Brien. I wonder if that’s why he was in the bar after hours. Not
stealing, but stashing his goods until he could unload them.”
    “There’s
one way to find that out, Kim—go talk to the owners of the bar.”
    “We
could, but surely they would have noticed strange goods stashed away in a store
room or shed they own, wouldn’t they? If they did, then why not contact the
police? Why isn’t this already a matter of public record?”
    “I see
where you’re going with this, Kim. Maybe they found his stash and that’s why
they decided not to file charges against Owen. If they took it, that would
not have made Owen happy. That’s a lot of work—picking up the knock-offs and
hauling them into the village. If Owen objected, it could have gotten
complicated, real quick. Owen probably wasn’t very good at complicated was he? I
mean, there’s no way he could have used the Santa routine much longer. Then
what? It also doesn’t sound like he put much thought into how to move
the goods if they were piling up in Willow’s shack like that. If he was hiding his
loot at the bar where he worked, I’ll bet he didn’t do that too well, either. Poor
Owen, not very