Three-Zee in a Dilemma

By John A. Miller, Jr.

It's a dilemma. Three-Zee Zook’s best friend, Bambi Bamberger, is having an affair with a ghost. A young maid at the luxurious Mountain Woods resort where both Three-Zee and Bambi work has gone missing, and the girls encounter both her swimsuit-clad body and her ghost. The cottage where Three-Zee and Bambi live is trashed and the girls must find alternate accommodations. Is the culprit the handsome young lifeguard, who offers Three-Zee a temporary place to live, or is it a former nemesis come out of hiding to torment them? Then there’s the mysterious cottage in the woods. Is solving these mysteries worth the mortal peril in which the girls find themselves?

• Language: English
• Publisher: John A. Miller, Jr.
• Release date: Feb 11, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463535660

John A. Miller, Jr.

John Miller, writing under his full name of John A. Miller, Jr., started writing novels back in late 1991 after working for many years in the mainframe computer and telecommunication fields. He had lived in southern Arizona so he knew the area well and set his first novel, Pima, in that area. Shortly after writing that novel he moved back to southern Arizona where he wrote five more novels in the Pima Series. He returned to his home area near Allentown, Pennsylvania in 1999 and continued to write, launching the Victorian Mansion Series with its nine novels.Since retiring from their day jobs John and his wife have enjoyed visiting Cape Cod and The Bayside Resort in West Yarmouth, Massachusetts at least once every year, so with their permission he partially set there a standalone novel, The Bayside Murders.Recently, after reading a number of cozy mysteries, John decided to launch a new series in that genre and named it Three-Zee for its main character, Zelanie Zephora Zook.

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Three-Zee in a Dilemma

John A. Miller, Jr.

Copyright 2019 by John A. Miller, Jr.

Smashwords edition

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance between any character in this story, except for actual historical figures, and any person living or dead is purely coincidental.

Table of Contents

Acknowledgment

Bambi Behaving Badly

Missing Person

Let’s Get Together

A New Friend, Sort Of

Afternoon Strolls

A Confusing Discovery

Useful Information

A Date, a Date…

The Morning After

Who Is He?

A New Dilemma

Not My Thing

Temporary Accommodations

A Surprisingly Revelation

Aunt Misbehavin’

Cabin in the Woods

Pondering Possibilities

Terror in the Dark

What’ll I Do?

Midnight Maneuvers

Rescue, or Not

Explanations All Around

One More Problem

Rachel, Rachel,…

Happy Ending for Some

About the Author

Buds and Birdsong

Peeping Pete

Acknowledgment

Cover image created from free photos

on canva.com

by Yannick Lepère and Jack Redgate

Bambi Behaving Badly

Pete, cut it out! You know that tickles.

For those of you who’ve read my previous chronicle, Three-Zee in the Mountains, you’ll think I’m starting right where that story left off. Well, I am, sort of. Actually, it was about three weeks later, but my best friend, Bambi Bamberger, was still carrying on this rather giddy and bizarre relationship with Pete Gardenko. In itself that wouldn’t have been too bad. Bambi’s twenty-seven and Pete’s about thirty, so they’re both consenting adults, and neither is married or in another relationship. There’s only one thing wrong with it. Pete’s dead—a ghost—and Bambi can neither see nor hear him, so the only way she knows he’s there is when he touches her and she feels a chill. Of course, Pete can see and hear Bambi, and I can see and hear both of them, but that’s another thing.

I’m not a ghost but completely alive. My name is Zelanie Zephora Zook, Three-Zee to my friends and family, and I try to be the level-headed one in this complex relationship, although when I used those terms to Bambi, she said, Yeah, right, level-headed like the side of a mountain.

And how are you going to have any kind of love life with a guy you’ve never seen nor heard?

I have seen him, sort of. George gave me a copy of his picture, and the studio in LA where he was auditioning sent George a copy of the audition tape, so I’ve heard him, too. George Wylie is the manager of the Mountain Woods Resort in the Pocono Mountains of eastern Pennsylvania where Bambi and I are both employed. George also is, or I guess I should say was, Pete’s stepfather, which is why he has all of the aforementioned memorabilia.

But no chance of babies.

No, unless Pete contributed to one of those sperm banks, which I seriously doubt.

I’m sure he preferred direct deposit.

Bambi gave me a dirty look but didn’t comment.

I will admit that Pete was drop-dead gorgeous when he was alive—still is now that he’s a ghost—but that’s not always something upon which one should build a long-term relationship. I really hoped this crazy infatuation was only a momentary lapse on Bambi’s part and she’d soon come to her senses.

My cat, Snickers, so-named because he resembles the inside of a Snickers candy bar, was sitting next to Bambi on her bed and was staring at her curiously with an occasional glance at Pete—Snickers can see ghosts, too—but his only comment was an occasional Meow or purr. That’s as it should be. It’s bad enough being able to see and talk with ghosts, but a talking cat…

Missing Person

Bambi finished dressing and we both headed off for the main lodge, Bambi to work in the kitchen where among other things she’s learning to cook in a professional capacity, and me to check in with Cathy Schwartz, our activities director. I work part of the time for Cathy, mostly leading hikes on roads and trails through the surrounding many acres of woodland owned by the resort and hostessing various activities such as Bingo, especially during inclement weather. Later in the day I must switch my loyalty to the dining room where I direct guests to their tables for the evening meal. Mountain Woods is an all-meals-included resort, but breakfast and lunch are massive buffets and seating for those is more or less a free-for-all.

I was sitting with Cathy in her tiny office, which was barely large enough for her desk, her chair, and two additional chairs, when Natalie Calabria, housekeeping supervisor burst into the office rather out of breath and said, Cathy, have you seen Rachel Delong?

No, although I’m not sure why I would have. I just got here about fifteen minutes ago, and I seldom get to see your staff because by the time I get here they’re usually busy cleaning rooms. Cathy lives in nearby Tobyhanna and is one of the few staff members who doesn’t live on the premises.

No, I just thought… Oh well, I guess it doesn’t matter. It’s just that she didn’t show up for work this morning, so I’m going to have to divvy up her rooms with a couple of the other maids.

Did you check her room?

Yes, her bed was slept in and unmade. Her roommate, Angie Robinson, says when she woke up at six Rachel was already gone. However, I guess Rachel likes to go swimming in the lake before she starts work. Anyway, what my people do when they’re not on duty is none of my business as long as they show up for work on time. I gave Nattie a quizzical look because scuttlebutt in the employee dining room and lounge—same room—is that Nattie knows more about most people’s business than they do themselves. Although I’m sure Cathy’s heard some of the same stories, she wisely said nothing.

Well, I wouldn’t be too worried. I’m sure she’ll turn up eventually, Cathy said.

Oh, I’m not worried about her, but I do have a lot of rooms to clean, I’m already short-handed, and so many guests get upset when their rooms aren’t the first ones to be cleaned, usually while they’re gone for breakfast. Nattie turned and retreated into the hall.

Do you even know Rachel? I asked Cathy after Nattie was out of earshot.

Not really. I don’t know most of the housekeeping staff except that I see them when I pass them in the halls. I really have no idea why Nattie would expect me to know where she is.

Maybe you were her last resort. Anyway, I don’t know Rachel well, but I’m pretty sure Bambi knows her better. She’s tall, skinny as a rail, and pale as a ghost. She has dark hair cut really short, almost like a long crewcut. For a month or two she was training with Bambi and a couple of others to be an assistant cook, but I guess she didn’t like it, so she went back into housekeeping.

Okay, I think I know the girl you mean. Oh well, working for Natalie isn’t always a piece of cake, either, or so I’ve heard. Maybe it’s her Italian temperament.

Cathy, Natalie’s black. Do you think she’s Italian?

Why not? There are black people in Italy, too, and just being around people who are a bit temperamental can rub off on you.

Well, being named Calabria doesn’t make you Italian, and not all Italians are temperamental.

No, I guess you’re right. I’m a supervisor who’s been through all kinds of sensitivity training, but sometimes I still let my old prejudices come to the surface. Anyway, do you think my idea of a trivia contest is worth considering?

Yes, I think it would make a welcome change from Bingo, especially among some of the younger guests and on rainy days. Maybe not so much after the indoor pool is finished, but at least for the time being. However, where can you get the questions and answers?

There are a couple of games available, sort of like the Trivial Pursuit game but designed for an auditorium environment, so I’ve checked them out online and sent for evaluation literature.

Good idea. Oh, who’s that? I saw a tall, skinny young woman clad in a one-piece light blue swimsuit go running past the open door. It looks like Rachel is back, but why is she still wearing her swimsuit?

I guess I wasn’t paying attention because I didn’t see her go by. Anyway, who knows? Oh well, it’s Natalie’s problem, not mine.

Yeah, you’re right. I’d better get moving because I have a hiking group waiting for me to show them the charms of the trail over to the dam and back, and we definitely need to be back before lunch. Don’t want any of our guests to starve.

Considering the amount of food they go through, I seriously doubt any of them is in danger of that.

** ** **

Mountain Woods is the proud owner—okay, I don’t know about proud but definitely owner—of a rather large man-made lake. The entire lake and surrounding land, except for a small wedge as well as one long, narrow cove and pond on the far side from the lodge, belongs to the resort, and George is currently negotiating to purchase that remaining piece. Meanwhile, the lake is used for swimming, kayaking, and fishing during the summer months. There’s also a very nice outdoor pool, but some people enjoy swimming from a beach. A big, new indoor pool is under construction, but that won’t be ready until fall.

Except for that one small piece of non-resort property, a decent but rustic trail borders the lake and is a popular hiking route. Clockwise from the lodge the trail goes at least half-way around the lake and across the top of the dam where it ends at the spillway. Counterclockwise it strikes off from an unpaved forest road but terminates at a ratty, old fence that delineates the boundary of the neighboring land. After the land purchase goes through George plans to complete the circuit with a footbridge over the spillway and, possibly, one over that long cove. Today’s hike was headed for the dam. On that route there are two other coves, but the trail goes around those except for a small footbridge crossing a stream that enters the end of the farthest cove.

We were just crossing that bridge when I noticed something floating in the lake. That cove already has figured into some earlier incidents, so I guess I’m always especially alert when I pass it. At first, I thought the floating object was just a tangle of brush that had blown into the water, but then I realized tangles of brush aren’t usually clad in light blue swimsuits.

What the heck is that? I said.

What the heck is what? asked one of my fellow hikers.

I pointed to the floater. That, there.

Where? I don’t see anything.

Oh, no! I thought. Not again! Then I remembered that when Rachel, or I assumed it was Rachel, had run by in the staff hallway outside Cathy’s office she was wearing a light blue swimsuit. Er, nothing, I guess. Probably just a ripple or reflection or something. But it definitely was there.

I turned for a moment to check my group, about fifteen people of both sexes and various ages including a couple of kids, but none of them seemed to be paying attention to anything in the water. I turned back to the lake and the floating object had disappeared.

Perhaps I should explain. Besides being able to see and hear ghosts, which is annoying enough, I also often briefly see the body as it appeared immediately after death. Usually I’m able to touch that body and confirm that it’s dead by temperature or lack of pulse, but if that really was Rachel’s body floating out there, I wasn’t about to swim out to check it for a pulse. Also, those bodies usually disappear almost immediately after I’ve let my attention lapse although occasionally they reappear, again briefly. In this case I hadn’t seen any obvious wounds or injuries, but a drowning victim wouldn’t necessarily exhibit anything like that, and I had been at least twenty or thirty feet away from the floating body.

** ** **

The remainder of the hike had gone off without major incident and no more floating bodies except for one of the kids nearly falling into the lake—little brat. I was sitting in the employee dining room chowing down on a rather mediocre hamburger—the guests get the good stuff, but hey, what we get is included—when Bambi joined me, wiping her wet hands on her cook’s whites. Now that she was actually helping prepare some of the food, she had to wear the uniform. Fortunately, that was included, too.

Hey, Three-Zee, what’s new?

A ghost.

What do you mean, a ghost?

Do you remember Rachel Delong?

Yeah, she used to train with me to cook, but she went back to housekeeping. The rumor mill is saying she did a runner this morning. Anyway, Nattie Calabria’s really ticked off because I guess she’s already short-handed. Bambi paused and stared at me. Wait. Do you mean you saw her ghost; Rachel’s ghost?

I nodded.

Oh, shoot!—okay, she didn’t exactly say shoot; merely something like it—Where did you see her?

Running through the staff hallway outside Cathy’s office. Then I saw her body floating in the lake.

But she wasn’t there.

No, she wasn’t.

Was she wearing street clothes?

No, a light blue one-piece swimsuit.

So, she could have gone swimming and drowned.

Yeah, that’s possible. I didn’t see any obvious wounds, but then I was pretty far away, and I wasn’t about to jump into the lake to check more closely. The other hikers would have thought I was crazy.

Which you aren’t?

No, I don’t think so.

We’ll discuss that later. Anyway, have you seen her ghost since?

No, not yet.

And you haven’t talked to Pete about it.

Haven’t seen him.

At that moment two of the women from housekeeping joined us at our table, so we had to cut our conversation short. They complained for a while about Rachel’s disappearance and the extra work she’d left them, but apparently her body hadn’t been discovered yet, and I wasn’t about to enlighten them. That way lies lockup in the loony bin at least.

** ** **

After lunch I returned to the small staff cottage Bambi and I share—like meals, housing is included although because of that our salary is considerably less—but Pete wasn’t there, so I had to content myself with explaining things to Snickers. I’m not sure whether he had an opinion one way or the other. It’s hard to interpret an occasional purr except maybe that he’s contented. I don’t know where ghosts go when they aren’t around, but I suppose it’s somewhere. Also, Pete could have been around and merely invisible for the moment, but I did ask if he was there, and he usually shows himself when I do, except maybe when he’s hiding in the bathroom watching Bambi or me shower.

After waiting until about ten minutes before two, I had to hustle back to the lodge to host the scheduled Bingo game. We tend to get a number of more mature, okay, older, guests and many of those of the female persuasion enjoy their Bingo. In fact, some of them are positively rabid about it even though most of the prizes aren’t anything special. However, once a week, usually on Friday, a cover-all game features a fifty-percent-off voucher for a future stay when coupled with at least one fully paid reservation. Our resort ain’t cheap, so it’s a pretty valuable prize. Cathy’s idea of a trivia game that might appeal more to the younger set made quite a bit of sense.

Let’s Get Together

I haven’t seen him since this morning, so maybe he’s moved on. Ghosts tend to move on—to where, I have no idea—after we’ve discovered how and by whose hand they died. However, we never had established the exact manner of Pete’s death except for the bullet wound in his chest, and we still weren’t sure about the shooter. Consequently, Pete was still hanging around.

Oh god, I hope not, Bambi moaned.

Bam, this being enamored of a no-longer-living guy, no matter how good-looking, isn’t really a good idea. Remember, we have no idea about the exact rules for him staying here.

No, but maybe if he finds love…

Okay, I’m not going to touch that one.

It’s his touch that I like.

Yeah, I know, although most people don’t enjoy being caressed by an ice cube. Bambi gave me a dirty look, so I decided to drop the subject. Anyway, I wonder whether he’s been able to make contact with Rachel.

Are you sure you saw her?

Well, I definitely saw her run by Cathy’s office, but nobody else seems to have seen her, or I’m sure they would have mentioned it. Then, her body in the lake wearing the same swimsuit; yeah, I’m sure.

Okay, well, I had a chance to talk to Angie, her roommate, and I brought up the subject of Rachel’s interests. She did say that Rachel liked to swim. The pool is off-limits to employees except for special events, but the beach is generally okay as long as they don’t get too cozy with the guests. I said something about seeing her in a light blue one-piece suit, and she said that was the kind of suit Rachel wore. I remember from working with her in the kitchen that she was a bit of a prude; anyway, not the kind of girl who wears bikinis.

Mm. Don’t look now, but we have company.

Pete, is that you? Bambi jumped. Ooo, yeah, it is you. How are you, sweetheart?

Dead, I’d say, I said. Bambi’s really getting good at those dirty looks.

I looked at Pete who had decided it probably was a good idea to fade into view although Bambi still couldn’t see him. Have you met your new friend? I asked him.

I assume you mean Rachel.

You assume correctly. Had you known her before?

Well, not when I was alive. I don’t think she worked here before I moved on to Tinseltown, but I do recall seeing her around the staff quarters after I was, okay, deceased. I repeated this for Bambi’s benefit.

Where is she now?

I’m not sure. I was over in the main lodge this afternoon when she went running by. I thought, hey, hot chick in swimsuit. Then I looked more closely. Female, probably; hot chick, definitely not. Too skinny and a face as narrow and sharp as a carving knife. I repeated this, somewhat edited, for Bambi’s benefit.

Did she say anything?

No, not really. I tried to question her, but she was still coming to grips with the fact she was no longer among the living.

Do you think she was murdered or committed suicide? Of course, she could have drowned accidentally, too. I couldn’t tell the cause of death because I only saw her body floating in the lake from about twenty or thirty feet away.

Yeah, and drowning wouldn’t be obvious anyway. A bullet hole or stab wound, or even a mark on the head, probably would have indicated murder, but drowning isn’t so clear.

No, it isn’t.

I get the impression her boss isn’t too happy, Pete said.

About the fact she’s dead or about the fact she didn’t show up for work?

The latter, of course. I think you and I and Bambina here are the only ones so far who know she’s dead. I repeated this verbatim and Bambi grinned when I said, Bambina.

Yes, you’re probably right. Of course, if she was murdered, her killer would know, too.

Yeah, that.

Do you think you could talk her into meeting with us? Maybe she’d know more about what happened.

I don’t know. I can certainly try, assuming she’s still hanging around. Of course, she probably wouldn’t remember exactly what happened. I know I didn’t. Still don’t, for that matter.

Yeah, but at least she could tell us what she was doing in the lake in the first place.

The current owner of the piece of adjacent land George is trying to purchase for the resort, Abner Whitelaw, is a crotchety old guy with a penchant for shooting at people with a shotgun. If he had still been in circulation, I would