Mango Motel

by Bill H Myers

  She pointed over her shoulder to where I had parked the car. “When people see us driving around in that white police special, they already think we're cops. Putting on a jacket and tie will help sell the illusion.”

  I could understand what she was saying but didn't know why it was important. “So why do you want people to think we're cops? How is that going to help us find Waldo?”

  She had her answer ready. “We're going back to his place at Shady Haven to conduct our own search. If the goons who trashed his place are waiting for his return and they see us roll up, they'll think we're cops investigating the break-in. If they think that, they won't bother us.”

  “Okay, it makes sense. When are we going?”

  She grabbed the car keys, tossed them to me and said, “Right now. You're driving.”

  I put on the black shoes she'd bought me at Goodwill, tightened my belt, grabbed my sunglasses and we headed out.

  I hoped we looked like the guys from Men in Black but was afraid we looked more like the Blues Brothers.

  Chapter Forty

  We rolled up to Waldo's trailer in Shady Haven around eleven that morning. There wasn't a car in his drive, and the lights in the trailer were still off as they had been the day earlier.

  We both got out of Raif's white police special and stood in the street. Erin pulled out her notepad, flipped it open and looked at the blank pages as if she were reading a police report.

  I did the same.

  After a few moments, she closed the notepad, shoved it into her blazer's inside pocket, and came over to me. She said, “I'm going to point down the road. When I do, act like I'm telling you something important. Then do a slow three-sixty, checking out our surroundings. Look for any sign of the bad guys.”

  I nodded and did as she instructed. After doing a full visual sweep and not seeing anyone watching the trailer, I said, “Looks like the coast is clear. Are we going in?”

  Instead of answering, she walked to the trailer, went up the steps and knocked on the door. We were both pretty sure that no one was inside, but if other residents of the park were watching, we wanted to give the impression that we were cops doing everything by the book.

  No one answered, and Erin knocked again. No one came out to see us.

  She tried the doorknob and it was still unlocked as it had been the day before. She pushed the door open and said, “Anyone in here?”

  No one responded and she went in. I followed.

  The place was still a mess. Furniture turned over, cabinet contents dumped on the floor, fridge door open with food rotting inside.

  Acting like the lead detective, she said, “You do the living room. Look for anything that might help us figure out what Waldo was planning to do. Look for business for sale ads, computer printouts, real estate magazines. Anything like that.”

  She used her thumb to point over her shoulder toward the back of the trailer. “I'll do his bedroom then make my way back up to you. If you find anything, let me know.”

  I nodded, thinking that real cops probably put on latex gloves before they did a search. We didn't have any with us, so I was hoping that maybe I'd find some under the kitchen sink.

  I looked, but there were no gloves. Just a spray bottle filled with green liquid, which I figured was cleaning solution. Sitting next to the bottle was a well-used sponge. The place could use a good cleaning, but it wouldn't be me who'd be doing it.

  Thinking about what Erin had said about maybe finding paperwork that could lead us to Waldo, I headed to a large stack of newspapers near the turned-over couch. I got down on my knees and started going through them, page by page.

  The first one was dated two months earlier. That was probably right before he moved out. I scanned the pages looking for anything that might tell us where he went. Nothing did. I doubled-checked the classified section hoping to find ads that were circled or highlighted. None were.

  I did the same with the rest of the papers. Each search had the same results. Nothing circled or highlighted.

  Next to the pile of newspapers were four takeout menus. Three from Tina's Taco Palace, and one from China Delight. We already knew why Waldo would have the ones from Tina's. He was thinking of buying the place and would want to know what they served.

  Maybe he'd picked up the menu from China Delight for the same reason. Maybe he was thinking of buying it. We'd have to follow up.

  I cleaned off a space on the floor next to where I was sitting and started a “keep” pile. The China Delight menu would be the first thing in it.

  Continuing my search, I looked through the contents of a wastebasket that had been turned over near a recliner. It was mostly household trash, but there were a few other things. Cash register receipts from McDonald's, Burger King and Wendys. Nothing unusual about that. A single guy living in a new town had to eat. Fast food was the easiest and cheapest way. Maybe not the healthiest but better than starving.

  Under a used takeout bag from China Delight, I found a Florida state map. Someone had used a yellow marker to highlight the route from Key West to Saint Augustine. There was also a Saint Augustine city map. It had a circle around Tina's Taco Palace and Shady Haven. But nothing else.

  It was too bad Waldo hadn't marked a route to his new place. I still put the map in the “keep” pile. It was the only thing I found that had his writing on it.

  I continued to go through everything in the room. But I didn't find anything else to put in my keep pile.

  Maybe Erin was having better luck. I stood and headed back in her direction but slowed when I heard her voice. Thinking she might be on the phone, I stopped and waited. I didn't want to intrude if she was making a personal call.

  But the more I listened the less it sounded like a phone call. Instead, it sounded like she was talking to herself. Wanting to see if she was, I walked up closer and saw she was down on her knees, going through a stack of girlie magazines.

  She was saying, “I can't believe I'm doing this. Digging through someone else's trash. There's got to be a better way.”

  Her back was to me, so I tiptoed over and tapped her shoulder. In my gruffest voice, I asked, “What are you doing here?”

  Instead of jumping up, she shook her head and said, “You didn't scare me. I saw you coming. Did you find anything?”

  “No, just a takeout menu from China Delight and a highway map showing how to get to Saint Augustine. How about you? Find anything?”

  “No, not unless you think this pile of nudie magazines I found under his bed is important. I don't think they are. But maybe you should take a look. Maybe you can see something I missed.”

  She held up one of the magazines so I could check out its cover. That was all I needed to see. I said, “It looks like you're doing a good job with the magazines. I don't think I need to get involved.”

  “I didn't think you would. But there is something you can do for me. His bathroom. I haven't checked there yet.”

  I could tell she didn't want to go through his bathroom and I didn't want to either. But it had to be done. So I said, “I'll do it. But then I'm going to wash my hands and leave this place forever.”

  I went to the bathroom and was happy to see it was pretty clean. All the drawers were empty, as was the medicine cabinet. Under the sink, I found four rolls of unused toilet paper, a toilet bowl brush, and a plunger. Nothing else.

  There was a small, white plastic trash can next to the toilet. It looked to be filled with used tissues and yellowed ear swabs; not the kinds of things I looked forward to handling, especially without gloves.

  But I'd told Erin I'd check the bathroom, and I needed to do it well. I dumped the trashcan's contents onto the floor and used the toe of my shoe to separate each item. I didn't want to touch anything that had been in it, but near the bottom of the pile, I saw the corner of a business card. A wadded-up tissue covered most of it, making it unreadable.

  I called out to Erin, “I think I found something. Come take a look.”

  Chapter For
ty-One

  When Erin joined me in the bathroom, I pointed to the business card on the floor next to the pile of tissues. “That might be important. Pick it up.”

  She shook her head. “Nope, I'm not going to touch it. You found it, you pick it up.”

  We both stood there, staring at the corner of the card, knowing it might be the lead we were looking for. But neither one of us wanted to touch it.

  I gave in and used my shoe to try to move the tissue off the card but without any luck. It was stuck to it. Best case it would be fluid from Waldo's nose on the tissue. Worse case, fluid from a lower part of his body.

  Whatever it was, neither Erin nor I wanted to touch it. I turned to her and asked, “You have any gloves?”

  She shook her head. “No, I don't. But I bet Raif does. Let's go see.”

  His place was next door, so it wasn't much of a walk. Just a few steps. I expected to see him out on his deck, maybe partaking in medicinal herbal relief, but he wasn't there. I hoped that, unlike our previous visit, he wasn't in his bedroom, entertaining his soon-to-be live-in girlfriend, Fay.

  Erin knocked on the door and took two steps back. I stayed behind her, doing my best to look like a cop trying to interview a neighbor about a nearby break-in.

  No answer on the first knock, so Erin raised her arm to try again, but before her knuckles hit the door, Raif opened it, wearing only boxer shorts and a T-shirt. He looked at us and said, “Let me guess, you're Crockett and she's Tubbs.”

  I smiled at the Miami Vice reference, but Erin didn't. Maybe she didn't know about TV's most famous Florida cop duo, but I did. I pulled out my notepad, looked at Raif, and said, “Sir, we'd like to ask you a few questions about your next-door neighbor.”

  He shook his head and turned to Erin. “You did this, right? It was your idea to dress him up as a cop. It sounds like something you’d do. And it's probably best I don't ask why."

  Erin smiled and changed the subject. “Where's Fay? I figured she'd be the one answering the door. She did the last time we were here.”

  Raif grinned. “She's in the back taking a nap. I can wake her if you want.”

  “No need. We're here to see you. Would you happen to have some latex gloves we could borrow? We found something in Waldo's trailer, but neither of us is willing to pick it up without gloves.”

  Raif looked at me. “I warned you about her. You hang around too long, and it'll be nothing but trouble. Looks like the trouble's already started, her having you dress up like a pretend cop.”

  I shrugged. There was nothing I could say. Fortunately, before the silence between us became uncomfortable, he looked at Erin again and said, “I've got gloves. Wait here, I'll get them for you.”

  He left us at the front door, me still standing behind Erin, trying my best to look like I knew what I was doing. She turned to face me. “He warned you about me? What'd he say?”

  I hesitated, then came up with what I thought was a good answer. “The best I can remember is he said you were an angel and I should treat you like one. Yeah, that's it. He said you were an angel and I needed to treat you right.”

  She looked into my eyes and said, “That's good advice. Treat me right because you don't want to see me when I get angry.”

  I smiled but didn't tell her that's what Raif had actually told me. That I didn’t want to see her get angry.

  He soon returned to the door with a box of disposable latex gloves. “Take what you need, and when you're done, put the box on my porch. Don't tell me what you find because I don't want to know.

  “But you better not get caught impersonating cops. If you do, I won't be able to bail you out. It's a serious offense.”

  He leaned in, kissed Erin on the forehead and said, “Be careful. Don’t do anything that’d get Walker or the both of you arrested.”

  After he had gone back inside, Erin handed me the box. “Glove up.”

  I shook my head. “No, you first.”

  She smiled, pulled out two gloves, and put one on each hand. Then she poked me in the chest with her gloved hand and said, “Now it's your turn.”

  With both of us wearing protection, we went back to the bathroom in Waldo's trailer. Erin stood behind me, a sign that she expected me to be the one who moved the tissue and pick up the business card.

  It wasn't something I wanted to do, but with the gloves on, I didn't have a good excuse not to. I took a deep breath and held it in, then bent over and carefully peeled the soiled tissue away.

  After picking the card up, I held it so Erin could see the front side. She pulled out her phone, snapped a photo and said, “We've been here long enough. Time to go.”

  She didn't have to tell me twice. We left the trailer with me leading the way. I got in behind the wheel of Raif's car and she climbed into the passenger's seat. I started the engine and we pulled away, heading back out the same way we came in.

  As we approached the manager's office, Erin said to pull over and park. She wanted to go in and ask whoever was in there that day a few questions.

  The answers she got were not what we expected.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  We were still sitting in the car, parked across from Shady Haven's manager’s office. Erin spoke first and said, “So here's the plan. We go in and ask if Waldo has moved out. If he has, we ask for his forwarding address. If they want to know why we’re asking, we'll tell them we’re investigating the break-in at his trailer.

  “You go in with me, but don't say anything. Let me ask the questions. If the woman who checked you in is there, we don't want her recognizing you.”

  We got out of the car and headed toward the office. On the way, Erin pulled out her little notebook and flipped it open. I did the same and followed her in.

  The woman sitting at the desk was not the one I had dealt with when I checked in. This one was younger, probably in her mid-twenties, Caucasian, short, brown hair, button-up white shirt, dark blue shorts. Phone in hand, earbuds in. She glanced up at us, removed her earbuds and gave us her full attention. “Can I help you?”

  Erin stepped forward. “I'm Donnely. He's Walker. We're here to follow up on a report of a break-in. Before we start, I need your name.”

  The woman hesitated then said, “Cory. Cory Stokes.”

  Erin smiled. “Cory. That's a beautiful name. Your parents did well choosing it for you.”

  Cory, who had been nervous about giving her name, seemed to relax after hearing Erin's compliment.

  She continued her questioning. “Cory, Waldo Raines filed a report of a break-in at his trailer here and we’re trying to reach him.

  “We've been to his residence, but it looks like he may have moved out. He’s not answering his phone either.”

  Erin paused to see if Cory had any questions. She didn't. But I did. I had one for Erin. I wanted to ask if her last name really was Donnely. She hadn't mentioned it during the three days we had been together. I reminded myself to ask her about it when we got back in the car.

  Erin continued with her questions. “Did Mr. Raines give notice that he was moving out?”

  Cory shook her head. “I only work here part-time and never met Mr. Raines. But I can look in his folder and see what his status is.”

  She turned to the file cabinet behind her desk and when I looked at Erin, she winked. Her plan was working.

  A few moments later, Cory turned back to us holding a manila folder. She opened it, scanned the first page and said, “According to this, Waldo Raines rented the trailer in site seventy-three. He paid in advance for three months.

  “His contract runs out on Friday of this week. He has not let us know whether he plans to renew or not.”

  She looked up to see if we had any questions. We didn’t, so she continued. “There's a note in here that says on Monday this week, two men stopped in and asked about Mr. Raines. They left a phone number and said to call if we saw him. Were those men with you?”

  Erin shook her head. “No, they aren't part of our investigation. B
ut since the break-in occurred Monday morning, about the time the two men were in the park, we'll need to talk to them. Can I have their number?”

  Without hesitation, Cory held up the page with the phone number. Erin jotted it down in her notebook. Then she asked, “Do you have any other contact numbers for Mr. Raines? No one answers the one we have.”

  Cory frowned. “Everything we know about him is on his rental agreement. The number he gave us is at the bottom of the page.”

  She held it up so Erin could see it. She looked at it, jotted it down and said, “Thanks.”

  She turned to me and asked, “Detective, you have any questions for the young lady?”

  I shook my head. “No, I think you pretty much covered it.”

  Erin thanked her and we turned to leave, but Cory said something that stopped us. She asked, “You’re cops, right?”

  Erin smiled and said, “Look at the way he's dressed. Only a cop dresses like that.”

  Cory smiled and said, “I know what you mean. His haircut too. Only a cop would walk around looking like that.”

  Erin nodded in agreement and we stepped outside, leaving Cory behind.

  When we got into the car, I asked, “Is your last name really Donnely?”

  She smiled. “It’s actually Davies Donnely MacKenna. Donnely is my mother's maiden name. You want to write that down in your little notepad?”

  I didn't. It was a name that I wouldn't soon forget.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  After leaving Shady Haven, Erin pointed the car in the general direction of Anastasia State Park where our RV was. On the way, she said, “Check your email. See if any of the people we found on Craigslist got back to you.”

  I checked and both had left a message. The seller with the video game gallery said it was still for sale and he could show it anytime. He included a phone number.

  The other seller, the one with the six-plex, said it was sold. He didn't include a phone number.

  I read the messages to Erin and after hearing them she said, “Call the guy with the video gallery. See if he can show it to us today.”