Digging Through Time: A Mac and Maggie Mason Mystery - Book 2

By Charles P. Frank

Digging Through Time takes Mac and Maggie Mason on another husband and wife journey through mystery and relationships. The couple, who met in the autumn of their lives, pursues friendships, faith, and some serious sleuthing.

Digging Through Time moves from a picturesque island off the coast of Florida to death row at Raiford Maximum Security Prison.

Digging Through Time confronts the gentle giant Moose who finally has to reveal some long-held secrets.

Digging Through Time shatters the image of the fragile female.

Digging Through Time shows how quickly casual moments can become times of life or death decisions.

Digging Through Time blends romance and family ties and business decisions and a few quirky characters.

The reader needs to keep tissues handy, all the while being prepared to LOL! Enjoy Digging Through Time with Mac and Maggie Mason.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jan 6, 2014
• ISBN: 9781491718506

Charles P. Frank

Charles P. Frank is a pseudonym for a husband and wife team in Florida and their good friend in North Carolina. Separately, the authors have published a number of other books in the genre of memoir, history, and theology. Digging for Death was their first journey into the realm of the novel. Digging Through Time is their second and is a story of relationship and romance wrapped around mystery.

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Copyright © 2013 Charles P. Frank.

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Digging Through Time is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, products, establishments, organizations, or locales are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used to add fictional interest. All other characters, incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the authors’ imaginations and are not to be construed as real.

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ISBN: 978-1-4917-1849-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4917-1850-6 (e)

iUniverse rev. date: 01/03/2014

Contents

About the Authors

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From Charles P. Frank

About the Authors

Charles P. Frank is a pseudonym for a husband and wife team in Florida and their good friend in North Carolina. Separately, the authors have published a number of other books in the genre of memoir, history, and theology. Digging Through Time is their second journey into the realm of the novel. Digging Through Time is a story of relationship and romance wrapped around mystery and a sequel to Digging For Death.

1

Ten Years Ago

The surf rolled gently to the sandy beach. The night was clear as the shadowed figure watched the house from the top of the stairway leading from the beach.

Unaware of being watched, two figures appeared at the side doorway to the house. There was an embrace, a kiss, and the taller of the two, a man, walked to the beach road, turned right and disappeared. The second of the two, a woman, moved into the house. A soft click set the alarm system. All seemed secure.

The stalking eyes walked slowly to the side door, keyed an access code into the security device and entered the house. The entrance was through a small work room and, passing a work table, a gloved hand reached for a screw driver and gripped it tightly. The newcomer entered the main area of the house and began a slow climb up the winding staircase.

2

The Present

Mac, what on earth are you doing? Maggie Mason looked quizzically at her husband.

I’m repairing these patent leather shoes I wear with my tux.

Mags rolled her eyes, an expression that she had perfected over their twelve years of marriage. What’s wrong with them?

The sole came loose the last time I wore them. The repair place over on Tamiami wouldn’t touch them, so I am repairing them myself.

Hon, why don’t you just buy a new pair?

Mac frowned as he answered. I haven’t been able to find any formal wear shoes at the consignment shops, and I refuse to pay a lot for shoes I hardly ever wear.

Mac was addicted to bargain hunting in consignment shops, refusing to pay excessively for clothing he could get discounted.

MacKenzie Mac Mason retired some years before from his position as head of the Major Crimes Division of the Miami Police Department. He still did consulting for the Miami Police, spoke at conferences throughout the country, and also consulted for various law enforcement agencies.

Margaret Mags Marie Miller Mason, a semi-retired top flight model, owned and managed her own cosmetic corporation. Her line of cosmetics for women had been extremely successful. Her latest perfume, Mmmm, was due to be rolled out at a grand celebration in New York City in March.

What in the world are you spreading on the sole of that shoe? Mags asked, looking over Mac’s shoulder.

It’s called Shoe Goo and it will cement anything, even my fingers, Mac said as he rubbed his index finger to remove the glue. See, now I will just clamp the sole tight and leave the glue to dry. The shoe will be as good as new.

OK, if you say so.

Mags held up two formal dresses for Mac to see. Which dress should I wear? There’s this floor length black satin sequined Oscar de la Renta that was given to me after a photo shoot. And then, there is this shorter blue brocade sleeveless number with sequined trim that I bought in New York City on my last business trip. Which do you like?

Mags, darling, I like them both. Whichever you wear, all eyes will be on you.

Oh, Mac, you know how stunning Susan always looks on New Year’s Eve. The Joseffa Island New Year’s Eve party is such a big deal. And, everyone expects me to dress as if I’m still on the runway. I just want to meet that expectation.

Joseffa Island was a private island lying off the coast of southwest Florida and was owned by Bob and Susan Gardner. Mac and Mags still remember the day they decided to purchase a membership in the island club and became instant good friends with Bob and Susan.

You always look better than nice. Why not the slightly less formal short dress you bought in New York? I love the color and the blue brings out the color of your eyes. OK?

Decision made. Thanks, Hon.

Looking at Mags, Mac questioned, Where do you want to stay on Joseffa and for how long?

"We can either take The Mistress and stay aboard her or see if there are still rooms available at the Inn or maybe even a condo," Mags mused.

"Let’s take The Mistress over, but let’s spend New Year’s Eve at the Inn. I’ll call Pat and see what’s available."

Mac and Mags enjoyed their thirty-nine foot Bayliner boat. It had two staterooms, two baths, a comfortable salon, and galley. Mags had actually suggested calling it Mac’s Mistress, but that name was voted down by Mac. They compromised on The Mistress.

Mac picked up his cell phone and selected the number for Pat Jefferson, the CEO of Joseffa Island. Pat had been a friend ever since Mac and Mags bought the membership on Joseffa. To top it off, Pat had recently become engaged to Mac’s daughter, Evelyn.

Mac pressed the Send button. A voice answered. Jefferson here.

Hi, Pat, Mac here. How are you?

Well, Hi, Dad, Pat answered, knowing that greeting would get Mac’s attention.

Mac grimaced saying, Ouch, I’ll have to get used to that from you.

Moving on, Mac asked, I just wanted to check with you and see if there is still a room available in the Inn for New Year’s Eve.

Mac, the gods must be with you. I just got off the phone with Stephen Cole. He and his wife can’t make it New Year’s Eve, and he just canceled his reservation for the Collier Suite. How would that do?

"Great, Pat, thanks. And, can you let the Harbor Master know that we’ll be docking The Mistress, arriving on December 31st and leaving early on January 2nd?"

No problem, Mac. Eve is arriving on the 31st also.

Any further plans on the wedding yet, son-in-law-to be?

No, we still have some issues to work through. Nothing we can share with you yet, but maybe soon.

When you and Eve are ready, remember I’m always here to help, Mac offered.

See you in a few days, Mac.

Yeah, Pat, we’ll see you Sunday.

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Mac awoke Sunday morning and found Mags already awake and dressed. Usually Mac was the first one up. He went to the kitchen and immediately to the Keurig coffee maker, put in a pod of dark roast coffee and pressed the start button. As the coffee began to fill his mug, Mac retrieved the bowls of sugar and artificial sweetener from the cabinet and the half and half from the ‘fridge. With his mug almost filled, he added his two spoonfuls of sweetener, one spoonful of sugar, and a dollop of half and half. He took his first sip and euphorically announced. Ah, now that is good coffee!

That will be the death of you! Mags said, shaking her head. Cutting Mac’s sugar intake was a lost cause; but Mags still tried.

When are we leaving, Mac?

"The Mistress should be ready. I went to the marina yesterday to check out the repairs from our little adventure a few weeks ago. She is fueled and the water tanks have been topped off. We can leave when you are ready."

Several weeks previously, The Mistress had been attacked by two felons who were full-speed in a fast runabout, intent on sinking The Mistress and killing the passengers aboard. Although glass was shattered and The Mistress sustained a few bullet holes, she was not seriously damaged and the attack was rebuffed. Mags wondered: Will I ever be able to set foot on that boat without thinking of that fright? Although the pursuers were out of the way—one dead, one captured—Mags always had the lingering thought: Could it happen again?

I’m ready, she said. We just need to pack the groceries I bought and put our clothes into the car and offload them to the boat. Then we are all set for Joseffa.

Let’s do it! Mac said enthusiastically.

3

Even in late December, the weather in south Florida was not uncomfortably cool. The occasional winter blast that threatened fruit crops had not come. Mags carried a light jacket over her arm, but put it down as soon as she stepped on board The Mistress. The only shiver she felt came from the memory of being under siege in these same Gulf waters.

The Dock Master signaled an okay to Mac, who was getting ready to put the power to the huge engines that propelled the craft. From the wharf, he cupped his hands and shouted to Mac: I hope your trip is boring!

Me, too! Mac hollered back. And The Mistress began the thirty minute cruise to Joseffa Island.

Mags scurried in the galley, unpacking the groceries. She went through a mental checklist of everything they might need for the New Year’s Eve party. I wonder if Mac put in the studs he’ll need for the shirt for his tux, she said out loud, even though she was really talking only to herself.

The trees and cottages of Joseffa began to loom ahead. Mac throttled down the massive horsepower and guided the vessel into its assigned berth. Mags stepped onto the deck and called out to Mac: Whenever we land here, I feel like we are really at home.

Mac grinned. I don’t know which is ‘home away from home’: Venice or Joseffa. I guess we are doubly blessed.

With The Mistress moored and the traditional party just ahead, the Masons began to feel that maybe the new year would indeed move them in new and good directions. They had not counted on what they would hear that night. That changed everything.

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Mac and Mags entered the Administration Building and found Pat Jefferson, the CEO of Joseffa Island, at the front desk.

Mac, Mags, good to see you, Pat exclaimed.

Good to see you, too. Are you ready for the big night? Mags asked.

Ready as we can be. Eve just arrived and I have her in the Sea Breeze Condo on the Promenade.

Eve Thomas, Mac’s daughter, recently became engaged to Pat, and Mac and Eve had begun to repair a long-damaged relationship. Mac was delighted at the engagement, but haunting tension still remained between father and daughter.

I noticed that Adam and Kelly have also made reservations for New Year’s Eve. Bob has arranged a table for all of us. Is there anyone else that we need to place at the table? I have Bob and Susan, you and Mags, Adam and Kelly and Eve and me.

Bob Gardner and his wife, Susan, had been the owners of Joseffa Island for the past thirty-seven years and had become good friends of the Masons. Mac’s Son Adam, and daughter-in-law, Kelly, would be driving over from Tampa. The plans had all the makings of a very special New Year’s Eve.

No, Pat. I think that ought to do it, Mac replied. Is it too early for us to check into the Inn? I understand we’ll have the Collier Suite.

Everything should be ready for you now. Will you be staying there tomorrow night as well?

"No, I don’t think so, Pat. We’ll stay on The Mistress tomorrow night and then head back to Venice. We have to get ready for our next trip to Houston. We leave Saturday and that only gives us three days to complete our preparations and get packed."

Houston. Eve says you’ll be there for several weeks.

Yeah, Mac answered. This stage four colon rectal cancer is a bear, but Mags is getting the best care in the country. This time she’ll get radiation treatments from one of the best oncologists. Mac was quiet for a moment as he recalled the roller coaster ride from symptoms to diagnosis to treatment to disappointment and now back to hope. He thought to himself, Mags is too precious to lose.

Pat paused to see if Mac would add any more about the trip to Houston. Six weeks, Mac said. Six long weeks. Then, we’ll see. Then, we’ll see. But for now: we’re going to enjoy New Year’s Eve at Joseffa Island!

Mac—Pat had a slight catch in his voice—whatever we can do, just let us know. Now, for the week-end, just see Peter at the Inn and he’ll give you your keys to the suite. I’ve also arranged for a golf cart for your use while here.

You think of everything, Pat. Thanks!

You’re welcome, Dad.

Mac grimaced. It will still take me some time to get accustomed to that!

Mac and Mags went back to The Mistress and took the items needed for New Year’s Eve, packed them in a push cart and walked to the waiting golf cart. The drive to the Joseffa Inn was a short one. Mags walked up the stairway to the front door of the Inn, as Mac carried the luggage to the front desk.

Hi, Peter, Mags greeted the young man at the desk.

Mrs. Mason, it’s so good to see you. The Collier Suite is all prepared for you. If you need anything just call me and I’ll see that it’s delivered. Peter handed Mags the key labeled Collier Suite and then stepped out from behind the desk and took the luggage from Mac. The three walked to the stairway that led to the suites above. As they approached the stairs, they looked to their right and saw again the artist’s large depiction of Bob and Susan standing at the front of the Joseffa Inn, a painting that had miraculously escaped the hurricane that had almost put Joseffa Island out of business some years before.

Entering the suite, Mac reached into his pocket and produced a few bills and handed them to Peter. Thanks Peter; perhaps you might have someone bring up a bucket of ice and water.

Mr. Mason, a tip is not necessary and I’ll see that your ice and water is delivered immediately.

Peter, keep the tip. You take great care of us and it is the least we can do, Mags responded. Peter nodded his appreciation.

Mac and Mags unpacked the garment bag that contained Mags’ striking dress and Mac’s tuxedo.

A knock on the door meant the water and ice had arrived.

How about a short nap before we start getting ready for the big evening? Mac asked Mags.

Sounds great. We got up so early this morning and I know it’s going to be a late night.

The couple stretched out on the four-poster king-sized bed without changing out of their casual clothes. They were asleep in minutes.

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As Mac and Mags awoke, Mags asked. What time do the festivities start?

I thought we’d go down to the bar around seven, see if anyone else in our party is there, Mac replied.

Good, that gives me an hour to shower, do my hair, put on my face and dress.

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At five minutes until seven, Mags looked at Mac. Want me to help you with that tie?

Please, I’ll never get the hang of tying one of these. Why can’t I just use a clip on? It’s so much easier.

Yes, Mac, I know, Mags frowned, but this bow tie looks classier.

Mags looked at her reflection in the floor to ceiling mirror one last time.

You look lovely, darling, Mac smiled.

You look quite handsome yourself, Mr. Mason.

The couple left the suite and began the walk down the stairs to the bar.

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In the bar area, Mags immediately saw Eve sitting at a small table with Pat. Eve raised her hand in a wave and Mac and Mags walked over. Eve was wearing a long hunter green cocktail dress that complemented her hazel eyes and her highlighted light brown hair. The back of the dress scooped very low with a jeweled bodice. She carried a gold evening bag that matched her gold three inch high heels.

Hi, Dad, Eve said, smiling at Mac.

Mac leaned over and gave his recently estranged daughter a warm hug and a peck on her cheek.

Hi, Mags, Eve offered with a warm smile.

Would you join us? Pat asked. We can move to a larger table.

The four stood and began to walk to a table for eight when Adam and Kelly arrived.

Kelly wore a simple, but stylish, gold lamé jacket over black silk slacks. Her soft blouse—a lighter gold—was accented with a beautiful necklace that Mags knew had been a birthday gift from Adam. Her chosen outfit went beautifully with her blonde hair, and she radiated a glow from her pregnancy.

Just in time, Pat smiled, as he held out a chair for Eve. Mac did the same for Mags. He smiled and said, Don’t get used to this chair service; but I have to do it; you never know; someone may be looking. Mags nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. You’re so funny, Mr. Mason.

Just as the six settled, the wait person arrived just as Bob and Susan entered the bar.

Susan, stunning as always, wore a black silk suit with a long skirt and long sleeved jacket. Black sequins decorated the satin lapel of the suit jacket and jacket cuffs. Black was a color Susan wore frequently as it complemented her long lustrous jet black hair. She carried a vintage black sequined bag and wore sparkling shoes.

What will you have? Sherrie, the waitress, asked.

You have to ask me? Bob smiled. He brushed an imaginary piece of lint from his tux jacket. As if the men had discussed it, each had accessorized their tuxes with cummerbunds, bow ties, and handkerchiefs matching the wives’ outfits.

Yes, sir, one tall caffeine-free diet Dr. Pepper for you, Mr. Gardner.

How about white wine for the table? Bob asked, looking at everyone. Nodding heads signaled everyone’s approval, but Kelly’s. Water for me, please, she said.

The eight sat and began rehashing the events of the previous weeks and their involvement in the finding of two buried bodies and the apprehension of the leaders of two human trafficking organizations.

What do you hear from the Marks? Bob asked.

Will and Kate Marks had led the archeological dig during late November and early December when two bodies were found at the site.

I talked to Will yesterday, Mac offered. They are deep into the lab work necessary to authenticate the finds from the South Ridge Dig. They regret they can’t be here tonight, but they want to finish their work so they can move on to some kind of exciting marine archeological opportunity they have. They send their best to everyone.

Just as Mac finished speaking, his cell phone began to play Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, the ring tone he had chosen. Now, what could this be? he said.

I thought you’d leave that thing in the suite for tonight, Mags frowned.

I don’t recognize this number but it appears to be from the Miami area. I’d better take it.

Mac rose from the table and walked to the front door of the Inn and out on the porch.

Mason here, he answered.

Mac, this is Phyllis Phillips, Phil Phillips’ wife.

Yes, Phyllis, how are you?

Mac, I have some distressing news. Phil’s in the hospital. They’re running tests but we almost lost him. It appears it might be a heart attack. Phil has never had a problem with his heart so we don’t know. The doctors are running every test imaginable.

I’m so sorry. Is there anything Mags and I can do? Mac asked sincerely. His mind raced with memories of Phil Phillips, long-time friend and owner of a detective agency/security company.

That’s why I’m calling. Phil wonders if you can come to the hospital in Miami in the next day or two. He wants to talk to you.

Mags and I have to leave for her tests at MD Anderson in Houston next Saturday, but I think we could drive there Wednesday. Would you send me an e-mail with the hospital and room number?

I’ll do that tonight when I get home from the hospital. And Mac?

Yes, Phyllis?

Happy New Year!

Mac could hear the pain in Phyllis’ voice. "We’ll pray that this will be a happy new