by Bill H Myers
She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. But that's okay because there's more.
“After swinging my detector on the north side of the beach and not finding much, I decided to try the south side down past the reality show house. There weren't any lights on, so I figured no one was there and it would be safe.
“I started detecting in that general direction, and when I got in front of the house, I started getting a lot of hits. Most were ringing up as pull tabs, but to find treasure you have to dig everything.
“So I dug everything and found a lot of beer tabs, a few coins, and a broken pair of glasses. I put everything in my trash bag, so next time I detect there I won't have to dig them again.
“I was getting tired and started to head back this way. I was still swinging the detector hoping to find something interesting. But every time it signaled a find, it turned out to be metal trash. I wasn't surprised; that's the way it usually is on the beach. You mostly find bottle caps and pull tabs.
“Still, if you keep at it long enough, you might find something really interesting.”
She reached in her pocket. “Like this.”
She brought out her hand with her fist closed and slowly opened it, revealing her treasure.
At first, I couldn't tell what it was. It was small, about the size of a Zippo lighter, and covered with sand. It looked to be made of black plastic.
While I was trying to figure out what it was, Taylor brushed the sand off, revealing more details. The small, black, plastic find had four tiny buttons, each with a small icon.
She handed it to me so I could get a better look. She watched as I rubbed off the remaining sand and seemed pretty sure I would be surprised when I saw what it really was.
After getting the sand off, I saw that she had found a car remote. The little white icons on the buttons were for lock, unlock, and rear hatch lift. The fourth icon looked like a trumpet. Probably used to honk the horn remotely.
It was an interesting find but not a real treasure. People have them in their pockets when they go to the beach, and sometimes they lose them. It's rare, but it happens.
I started to hand the remote back to her, but she stopped me and said, “Turn it over. Look on the back.”
I'd seen a lot of car remotes and most had the same buttons on the front and nothing on the back. I didn't expect this one to be any different, but to satisfy Taylor I turned it over to see what was there.
That's when I figured out why she had been so excited to find it. The back of the remote had an indented circle embossed with silver wings. The left wing had an outline of a checkered winner's flag, and the right wing had a Chevrolet logo in red.
I'd seen the image before—on the remains of the Corvette that had crashed into me.
Was it possible that the remote Taylor found came from the same Corvette?
I handed it back to her and asked, “Where did you find it?”
She pointed to the beach where they were filming the reality show. “Over there. About thirty feet in front of the steps. Someone working on the set either lost it or intentionally threw it away. Based on the lack of corrosion, it hasn't been in the sand long. Maybe less than a week.”
She smiled then asked, “You think this might belong to the Corvette that hit you?”
From the moment I recognized the remote as being from a Vette, I wondered the same thing. Was it just a coincidence or did Taylor actually find the keys for the car that had destroyed my motorhome?
To answer her question, I said, “I doubt these are from the same Vette. It would be too much of a coincidence. But there is a way we can find out. We can go to the impound lot and see if the remote unlocks the doors of the Vette there.
“We can’t go now. The lot is closed at night, and they have a big guard dog there. But first thing in the morning, we should go there and see if the remote works.”
Taylor nodded then yawned and said, “If you're sure you don't want me spending the night, I'm heading home. I'm tired, and it's been a long day.”
She handed me the remote and said, “You keep it. Better that you have it than me.”
She gave me a quick hug, grabbed her metal detector and headed for the door. She walked through the house, went out the front and I heard her drive away.
I looked at the remote, thinking about how strange it was for Taylor to find it so close to the place I was staying.
Was it just a coincidence or something else?
I hoped to find out the next day.
Chapter Forty-Two
After Taylor left, I microwaved a frozen dinner and ate it while thinking about the remote. Was it possible that it was from the car that had crashed into my motorhome? And if it was, how did it end up on the beach so close to where I was staying?
Asking myself these questions didn't present any easy answers, so I ate my meal and headed to bed. Even though I was excited about Taylor's find, I drifted off to sleep quickly.
Sometime later, maybe an hour, maybe more, my phone chimed me awake. I didn't want to take the call, but since only two people had my number, I knew it was probably important. I sat up, grabbed the phone, and looked at the caller ID. It showed “GG.” Abby.
I answered, and the first thing she said was, “You said you were going to call me right back. Three hours later and you still haven't called. I didn't know what to think. Maybe you went back to the hospital or got arrested or something worse. Whatever it was, it better have been serious because when you promise to call me back, you better do it.
“Now tell me why you didn't.”
She was clearly upset, and I couldn't blame her. She was worried that something bad had happened to me, and with good reason. I'd been in the hospital that day and a few days earlier. Things could have taken a turn for the worse.
I should have called her back like I promised. It was a mistake on my part. I quickly apologized and said, “Abby, I messed up. I should have called you right back, but I didn't, and I'm sorry.
“But something came up. Something you might find really interesting.”
I paused to see if she accepted my apology. Apparently, she didn't, because she said, “When I get back, you and I are going to have a little talk about what it means when someone makes a promise to me. I'm up here working on your behalf, and you don’t care enough to call me back. How am I supposed to feel about that?”
She paused, giving me a chance to reply. Instead of answering her question about her feelings, I said, “Taylor found something on the beach. Something important.”
Before I could tell her what it was, she asked, “Is Taylor the girl you hired as your driver? Is she still there with you right now? Is she spending the night?”
I didn't hesitate with my answer. “Yes, Taylor is the woman I hired to drive me around. She worked on the reality show next door until she got fired because of something I did.
“She and I are not involved in any way. She's not here now, and she isn’t spending the night.
“Before she left, she went metal detecting on the beach out front. And she found something that you might want to know about.”
I waited to hear what Abby was going to say.
She paused then asked, “So there's nothing going on between you and Taylor? That's good. Now tell me what she found that's so important you forgot to call me back.”
In my calmest voice, I said, “She found a remote belonging to a late model Corvette. She found it on the beach right in front of where they are taping the reality show.
“It wasn't corroded and looked to be a recent drop. Someone either lost it while on the beach or intentionally threw it away.”
There was a pause on the line then Abby asked, “You think there's a chance it fits the car that hit you?”
I shrugged even though no one was there to see me do it. “I don't know, but in the morning, we’re going to the impound lot to find out.”
I had thought about it while I was eating dinner and had come up with several reasons we wouldn't
be able to test the remote.
The main problem was most of the car's electronics were either destroyed in the wreck or already sold as salvage.
Another potential problem was Rooster telling us that both the front doors would be pulled and sold. If they were gone, we couldn’t test the remote.
But then I remembered that in addition to the four buttons on the key fob, there was a small key tucked inside. One of the cars I'd owned had the same thing. A spare key in case the battery in the car was dead.
The remote that Taylor had found still had the key in it. If Rooster hadn't sold off both doors, we could use the key to see if it fit.
I didn't bother telling Abby about this. I just said, “We'll test it in the morning. If it works, we'll know it's from the right Corvette.
“That might not help us track down the driver. But at least we'll know that someone who either visited or worked at the reality house had the key with them.”
I could hear a man's voice in the background asking Abby a question. I assumed she was in her hotel room and perhaps she had a guest, a male one.
I didn't ask her about it though. Her private life was her business. But I was a bit jealous. If she had a man in her hotel room after midnight, it could only mean one thing.
She put her phone on mute so I couldn't hear what she was saying to the man, but when she unmuted, she said, “Walker, here's what I want you to do.
“Go into my bedroom and look in the top drawer of my dresser. On the right side, under my undies, you'll see the keys I found in the Vette when I was sitting in it. They aren't car keys, but they unlock something.
“Get those keys. Then find out where Chance Boudin lives and go there to see if the keys will unlock his door. If they do, we'll know he was in the Corvette. It won't prove he was the driver, but it'll mean he was in it at some time.
“Then go to the impound lot and try the remote that your new girlfriend Taylor found. If it works, it means someone in the reality house had them. Maybe Chance.
“Test the remote and keys, and do it early. I have a meeting with Chance's father at eleven, and knowing the keys belong to his son might help me convince him to pay for your motorhome.
“And Walker, this time call me back. Don't make me wait. Call as soon as you find out whether the keys work or not. Can you do that?”
I answered right away. “Yeah, I'll call you, promise. But before I can try the keys, I'll have to find out where Chance lives. Like I said before, I don't have the internet so I can't look it up.”
Abby didn't wait for me to finish; she just said, “You don't need the internet. Just ask your new girlfriend. You said she knows Chance. She probably knows where he lives. Get her to take you there.”
Before I could tell Abby that Taylor was in no way my girlfriend, she ended the call.
Chapter Forty-Three
I didn't get much sleep after the call with Abby. I had too many things running through my mind. Like did the remote belong to the wrecked Corvette? If it did, what did it mean?
And what about the man's voice in the background during Abby's call? Who was he? What was he doing in her room so late at night?
Maybe it was the TV. But it didn't sound like it. It sounded like a man in the room with her.
Then there was the problem of finding out where Chance lived. I needed to go there to try the house keys Abby had found.
But that created another potential problem. If I showed up unannounced at his place, there was no telling what he might do. On the beach, he had warned me it wasn't over between us. If I showed up at his home, he might shoot me and claim I was an intruder.
The biggest thing I worried about, though, was not getting any calls about Bob. We had plastered posters all over town offering a big reward for his safe return, and so far, nothing.
He had been gone ten days, and no one had reported seeing him. With the big reward, Abby said people would be out looking for him. But so far, no luck.
Maybe he didn't survive the wreck. Or maybe he did but was so badly injured he died a few days later. Or maybe he got run over in traffic.
It wasn't something I wanted to think about. I wanted to believe he was still alive and just waiting to get found. I needed to get out and search for him. But I couldn't. Not yet.
Abby wanted me to try the remote on the Vette and the house keys at Chance's place. She had a meeting in New York and needed to know the results before eleven.
That'd keep me busy the first half of the day, but after that, I was going to get serious about finding Bob. There was no way I was going to give up on him until I knew for sure, one way or the other.
I finally got to sleep around five, but I was up two hours later getting ready for Taylor. I figured she'd probably show up early, anxious to find out if the remote worked in the Corvette.
I needed to tell her that Abby thought Chance was the most likely driver. To prove it, I would need Taylor's help in testing the house keys Abby had found.
She showed up early. She pulled her Miata up to my door just after eight. I went out and met her as soon as she got out of her car.
Unlike the day before, she wasn't dressed as a chauffeur. No hat, no bow tie, no tucked-in white shirt. Instead, she was wearing tan cargo shorts, a black tee shirt, and a blue ball cap. Her long, blonde hair was tied in a ponytail. With her tan and dark glasses, she looked like a girl who belonged on the beach.
She saw me coming, and said, “Morning boss. We heading out early today?”
I nodded. “Yep, we're leaving as soon as I get my sunglasses.”
I went back inside, grabbed my glasses, wallet and, most importantly, the house keys Abby had found. I'd already put the remote in my pocket.
When I went back outside, Taylor was leaning against her car, talking to someone on her phone. The conversation ended quickly, but before it did, I heard her say, “Call me before you do.”
She put the phone in her pocket, nodded in my direction and asked, “You ready?”
I was. We got in her car, and she headed down the driveway. When we reached Manasota Beach Road, she looked both ways then pulled out and headed north toward the impound lot where the remains of the Corvette were stored.
I hadn't eaten breakfast, so I suggested we stop at the McDonald’s on Forty-One, just past Jacaranda. Traffic was light, and it didn't take us long to get there.
As we sat in the drive-through waiting for our order, I pointed to the light on the corner and said, “That's where it happened. I had turned left on Forty-One, and the Vette hit the swale, went airborne and plowed into me."
Feeling cramped in Taylor's little car, I wondered if we would survive if we were hit at any speed. Her car didn't have much mass and sat so low that other drivers might not see us.
They could change lanes and drive right over us, crushing the car and us in it. With that in mind, I said, “We need to be careful on the road today. There's a lot of traffic.”
Taylor nodded. “I'm always careful, boss. Don't worry; no one's going to hit us.”
With nearsighted seniors driving slow and lifted trucks racing to get around them, I wasn't so sure.
I tightened my seat belt, thinking it wouldn't be much help if one of those trucks rolled over us.
After getting our McDonald's breakfast to go, we headed north. Taylor was driving with one hand on the wheel and the other holding the breakfast burrito from McDonald's.
She was confident with her driving skills, maybe more than she should have been. Driving in traffic with one hand while holding a burrito in the other wasn't something they taught you in driver's ed.
Not wanting to distract her, I didn't tell her how things could go terribly wrong in an instant. It just took one fool going way too fast, not paying attention, and your life could be changed forever.
It had happened to me.
I had given Taylor the name of the impound lot, and she knew the way. We got there quickly.
Leaving her out in the Miata, I went into the office a
nd found Rooster sitting at his beat-up metal desk behind the counter, coffee cup in hand. He looked up and saw me. “You're the RV guy. Any luck finding your cat?”
“No, not yet. But I'm still looking. Have you seen him around here?”
He shook his head. “Nope. No cats around here. Just a bunch of wrecked cars.”
He stood, came over to the counter and asked, “What can I help you with today?”
I nodded back toward the impound lot. “Is that Corvette still out there?”
He rubbed his chin like he was thinking about what car I was asking about; then it came to him. “Yeah, the Corvette. The one that crashed into your motorhome. We still have it. At least some of it. We sold the top, the rear end, and a few other things.
“You need something from it?”
I pulled the remote from my pocket and held it up so he could see. “I want to see if this will unlock the doors.”
Rooster shook his head. “No can do. Sold the doors three days ago.”
My heart sank. Without the doors, we couldn't try the remote. I turned to leave, but Rooster stopped me. “You know, on that model Corvette, there's a lock under the rear hatch. It's there in case the car battery dies.
“If your remote still has the emergency key in it, you could try that. The rear hatch is still there.”
“Rooster, you're a life saver. Will you go out there with me so we can try it?”
“Sure, I'll go. But I'll have to bring the dog in. He doesn’t like seeing strangers in the yard.”
He pointed to the door and said, “Wait in your car while I take care of the dog. I'll come get you when he's penned up.”
I thanked him and went out to Taylor's Miata to wait. When I got inside, she asked, “Are they going to let you try the remote?”
I shook my head. “They can't. They sold the doors. No way to test it.”
I hesitated then said, “But there's a hidden lock under the rear hatch. Rooster says we can use the spare key. If it works, it'll mean it goes with the car.
“As soon as he gets Roscoe put up, he'll take us over there.”