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time. It worked for Bernadette, so I gave it a shot.
    “Another donut, Detective? I don’t think you’ve had one of these chocolate ones frosted like fireworks, have you? They are delicious.” Before he could answer, I put one on his plate and refilled his coffee cup. The twitching stopped as he bit into that donut, bathing him in a new burst of sugary bliss. I put one on Mick’s outstretched plate and winked at Brien as I passed the dwindling platter of donuts to him. When Mitchum spoke again, his tone had mellowed.
    “If you had that GPS device, I might find your story more compelling, Mick. You all can keep chasing the Maltese Falcon until the cows come home. Even if it does exist, I’m not convinced Owen Taylor discovered a darn thing worth tracking down. My guess is any marine coordinates saved on that device lead straight to an underwater loser-land inhabited by a whole lot of nothing, like the mountains of junk we hauled out of that cave.”
    “Don’t say that! You don’t know what I went through to get that thing. It’s here at the resort, somewhere. I swear. That’s what those guys were after when they grabbed me and that bartender, Dude!”
    “Bar owner, not bartender,” Mitchum corrected Mick. He paused a few seconds longer before continuing. “I suppose you three might not be the only ones foolish enough to be chasing after Owen Taylor’s GPS device. Too bad you couldn’t hang on to it, Dude . Can we please get on with your story? Where were you when ‘ those guys ’ grabbed you?”
    “When I found that GPS I felt excited. I left the chamber of...” Brien and I shook our heads, no, stopping him before he could utter the heinousness word again. He heeded the warning.
    “I headed for San Albinus to give it to Willow. It’s hers. She should be the one to decide what to do with it. When I got to the hospital, two guys were standing around outside. One of them, I had seen before with Owen. I thought they were cove-runners waiting for Willow to be released so they could nab her. I had to warn her! Before they could see me, I went around the back of the hospital and put on my Santa suit. I had it in the bag with the GPS, just in case I needed to use a disguise again.”
    I tried not to harrumph as I heard that part of Mick's story a second time. That Santa suit made sense at the resort where Santas roamed the grounds by the dozen. In San Albinus, an aimless Santa would stand out. No wonder he got caught. I held my tongue. When no one else responded either, Mick continued.
    “My plan was to walk right by those goons with a ‘ho-ho-ho’—like I was making a delivery to someone in the hospital. All cheery-like, you know?”
    Okay, so maybe his plan hadn’t been completely bad. Brien and I nodded. Mitchum shifted in his seat.
    “When I came back around to the front of the hospital in my Santa suit, you two were leaving.” Mick pointed to Brien and me. “They didn’t notice, but those guys were right behind them, Detective. That’s when I decided to follow them.” What an absurd little parade that must have been, with Santa bringing up the rear.
    “They were just wandering around town. I tried to get Gidget's attention once before she went into that boat junk shop.”
    “It’s not boat junk, Mick. And I didn’t see you.” I spoke directly to Mitchum as I explained.
    “Mick is talking about that little shop downtown with the nautical theme. When you interviewed me at the police station, I told you I’d been in there, remember? If I had seen Mick, I wouldn’t have told you he was missing, given you his cell phone number, and asked you to find him.”
    “You sicced the police on me?” Mick wore an indignant expression on his face. A hard look to pull off with his black eye and still-puffy lips. It came across as weirdly pouty.
    “I didn’t sic the cops on you, Mick. We were worried about you. Mitchum made us promise to stay out of it and let the police follow up on the loose ends. You