No Retreat From Death

Written by Nick Andreychuk

It was only 1:00 p.m. on the first day of the company retreat in Hawaii, but already all the employees from Masterson Technologies had sunburns redder than the volcanic red Hawaiian sea salt they’d sprinkled on their feast at the luau the night before. Craig Willis’ face, however, turned an ashen grey when he saw the dead body in the small pool reserved for Masterson’s top five employees. Well, make that top four.

Craig recognized the body as belonging to Trevor Jones, Masterson’s president. A firm believer in remaining physically fit at 50, Trevor’s leadership style reflected his fitness regimen -- no slacking off allowed, period. And since he often extended that to expecting those working under him to work through lunch and not take their rightful breaks, this retreat was the first time he’d ever socialized with his employees.

At 32, Craig was a vice president of Masterson Technologies. He didn’t get that high up the corporate ladder that fast by shying away from difficult situations, but his first instinct here was to turn and walk away. A local police officer approached him, pushing all thoughts of running away out of his mind.

“I’m Detective Kawika Akana. Are you Craig Willis?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Good. That means we have all the suspects in one place. Come join your colleagues.”

The detective indicated for Craig to go sit with his co-workers at a poolside table.

“Are you just going to leave Trevor floating there?” Craig asked.

“I’ve already determined that he was murdered,” the detective said. “The medical examiner will be here soon to confirm that he was forcibly drowned. In the meantime, I’m going to find out which of you killed Mr. Jones …”

Craig didn’t know how to reply to that, so he sat down next to Niles Anderson, the company’s 45-year-old accountant. Stephanie Clark, the marketing VP sat on the other side of Niles, and next to her was the office manager, Amanda Kent. Both women were in their fifties, but they couldn’t be more different -- Stephanie an avid cyclist and Amanda an unrepentant couch potato.

Detective Akana eyed the four Masterson employees thoughtfully. “So this is some sort of corporate retreat?” he asked.

“Yes,” Amanda replied. “I suggested it. The employee morale level is really low. I figured those of us running the company had to improve our work situation first, then maybe our job satisfaction could trickle down through the ranks.”

“Hah!” Niles said. “You’re talking like Trevor now.” To Amanda’s questioning look, he explained, “You said ‘trickle down through the ranks’ -- that’s Trevor’s army talk.”

“Was Mr. Jones in the military?” Akana asked.

“No,” Niles said, “but his father was. He acted like a drill sergeant more than a businessman. I blame the low morale on him. He never smiled, he never complimented anyone, and he discouraged employee fraternization.”

“Truth is,” Amanda said, “the retreat was meant as an intervention. We were going to try to get him to relax and have fun, then confront him with our gripes.”

“Yeah,” Stephanie said, “we hoped that outside the office he’d be more open to listening to us.”

“But no such luck,” Craig said. “We arrived in time for a late dinner yesterday, but he got things off to an uncomfortable start with his sourpuss behavior. He refused to drink the free punch at the luau and rebuffed the pretty dancer who tried to get him on stage, and then this morning he said that he thought this retreat was a waste of time.”

“And money,” Niles said. “He counted every penny so many times that he might as well have been doing my job.”

“Meaning you’re the accountant?” Akana asked.

“Yes, and I can assure you that the company will not suffer for this trip. In fact, we all could have brought our spouses without making a dent in the profit margins.”

“Hmm,” Akana said. “If the company is doing that well, maybe Jones wasn’t such a bad leader.”

“There’s more to life than money,” Craig said.

“Mr. Jones no longer has a life,” Akana said. After a dead silence, the detective continued. “Okay, so none of you liked him and all of you were with him this morning, correct?”

“Well, no,” Niles said, “I met up with everyone at the lunch buffet. I guess I ate some bad Poke last night, because I was up most of the night with stomach pains, then I slept in, and didn’t leave my room until I went to meet everyone for lunch.”

“I’m not surprised,” Amanda said. “I feel sick just thinking about all the raw fish you ate.”

“You are so old-fashioned,” Stephanie said to Amanda. “Everyone eats sushi nowadays. But maybe that explains it -- you’re afraid of fish!”

It was obvious that Stephanie was just ribbing Amanda in a friendly manner, but the office manager seemed embarrassed in front of Akana. “Are we talking about why I won’t go swimming again … I nearly drowned as a little girl, so what – I’m terrified of water. But I don’t have a fish phobia. It’s not like I was attacked by a shark or anything. And in case you’ve forgotten, I told you just last night how much I enjoyed the Mahi Mahi.”

Stephanie put up her hands in defeat. “Okay, okay, you win. I don’t think the detective wants to hear us two hens going at it, anyway.”

Akana smiled. “However you normally behave around each other helps me paint a picture of the broader scenario in my mind,” he said. “So go on …”

Amanda grinned. “Well, since she takes such good care of herself, I like to bug her about how great she looks for her age. But I think Stephanie must’ve just dyed the grey out of her hair yesterday because she took special care not to get it wet.”

“Amanda!” Stephanie exclaimed. “But you’re right, I dyed it yesterday and I’m a little concerned about the chlorine because I heard it can turn blonde hair green. Now since you brought up my hair, should we talk about your latest diet …?”

“Truce,” Amanda said.

“It’s obvious there’s no love lost with Jones, the way you’re acting like everything’s normal,” Akana said.

“Give them a break,” Niles said, “everybody mourns in their own way.”

“I’m just trying not to think about the body,” Craig said, nonetheless glancing at it. “Do we have to sit here much longer?”

“No,” Akana said, “I just want to clarify a couple more things. “Why didn’t Mr. Jones go with you to lunch?”

“He’d decided to swim 100 laps and he intended to finish,” Craig said. “In fact, he chastised us for not joining him.”

“Who was the last person at the pool with him?”

“We all left for lunch together,” Craig said. “But then we all went to our rooms before meeting back up at the buffet. So I guess that means none of us have an alibi …”

“True,” Akana said, “but only one of you is a murderer. And I know who.”