by Don Bruns
He didn’t. But I was anxious to see her, and with two separate rooms back at our resort, this could be a good time.
It’s just that I hadn’t seriously planned on someone really trying to kill us.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
We picked up two shovels and a big flashlight at the Overseas Ace Hardware on Highway 1. The plump female at the register kiddingly asked if we were digging for treasure. We just laughed.
We headed down U.S. 1, James saying he was surprising me for our evening meal. He’d found a special place. James worked for Cap’n Crab, a fast-food restaurant in Carol City, so his culinary tastes should have been suspect, but he was a culinary major in college. The guy knew good food. He’d picked a restaurant where we ended up having a very expensive dinner.
“Dude, she’s paying for it.”
The restaurant was a place called Ziggie and Mad Dog’s on the Overseas Highway. World famous by the way. Lots of things in the Keys were apparently world famous. Who knew?
“Why did you pick this place?” There were a lot of places cheaper than Ziggie and Mad Dog’s.
“Did a little Internet research back at the library, Skip. Way back, when this was a saloon, they had casino games here. Al Capone even played cards in the back room. Now, one of the owners is Jim Mandich. This guy played for Michigan, then for the Dolphins. He played in two Super Bowls, seventy-one and seventy-two. When he was with the Dolphins they had a perfect season in seventy-two.”
“This Mandich was Mad Dog?”
“Is.”
“The nickname says—”
“He’s a crazy man. On and off the field.”
That made sense. James Lessor is a crazy man. He tends to gravitate to people like that.
“So we’re eating here because?”
“We can tell people we did. It’s world famous.”
For James it was a magical evening. Apparently Jim Mandich occasionally came into his restaurant and pressed the flesh with the locals and tourists. We saw no signs of celebrity this evening.
I was not alive in seventy-one or seventy-two, and Mandich’s history had no relevance to me. James, on the other hand, wanted to immerse himself in the experience.
Upon arriving back at Pelican Cove, James walked over to Rumrunners, a multilevel, tiki-style building with the main bar on the second level.
I waited for Em. She showed up half an hour later in her new black Porsche Carrera. Em worked for her father, a very wealthy contractor, and she lived on a different plane than I did. She’d offered to get me a job with Dad, but for some reason I couldn’t bring myself to do it. And besides, who would look out for James?
“I missed you.” She kissed me in the parking lot. Then kissed me again.
“It’s only been two days.”
“I missed you.” She kissed me again, and I started to get interested. Em can be a very persuasive girl.
I hesitated to ask, but I did anyway. “What do you see in me? You’ve got so much going and—”
She threw her arms around my neck and pulled my mouth to hers. She kissed me again.
“Shut up and show me our suite. This could be fun.”
With the threat of my demise, I questioned that comment, but the next forty minutes were unbelievable.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Skip, Em, this is Amy.” He was shouting over the music.
We’d walked over to Rumrunners, hoping to run into James. It didn’t surprise me that he’d made the acquaintance of a young, attractive lady. She had a brief white knit top on and a tan skirt that came up mid-thigh.
Smiling, she nodded at both of us.
“James has told me so much about you two.” She smiled, like we were going to be best of friends.
It was as if James and Amy had a long-term relationship and Em and I were just catching up.
“He’s never said a word about you.” Em started on James immediately. The two of them just went for the throat.
He gave her that look that said: Don’t be a smart-ass.
The same look she usually gave him.
The song ended and the crowd applauded the guitar player who introduced a Jimmy Buffett tune while working a rhythm machine. When he started the next song, his voice was slightly off-key. He was loud, and the voices at the crowded bar went up a decibel.
I always wondered why an entertainment establishment hired a talent who couldn’t carry it off. They did it on a regular basis.
“Amy is from New York. She’s a designer.” James was practically shouting, a smug look on his face.
I nodded. Talking much louder I said, “Emily is from Miami. She manages a large construction firm.”
“Well, Amy is a diver. She’s taking a trip to the San Jose shipwreck tomorrow. She’s a historian as well.”
“Well,” I turned and looked attentively at my attractive blonde girlfriend, “Em is an accountant, and tomorrow she is going to spend the day with me and only me, mostly in bed.”
Em glared at me. I still wondered why she put up with our relationship. It never made any sense.
There was no conversation for sixty seconds. Finally, I motioned to James. “We need to talk.”
He patted the brunette on her bare shoulder, picked up his bottle of Yuengling, and followed me up the stairs to another level of the bar. A couple was hanging on the railing, looking out at the evening ocean. When they turned and saw us, they walked down the steps.
“Em is coming with us tonight. She’s going to be our lookout.”
“We need a lookout?” He cocked his head. “Yeah, I guess we do. We don’t know what we’re getting into, do we?”
“James, it’s about the letter. Listen, dude, I saw the letter. When you see that stuff in print—”
“Letter?”
“The one that Em got. Threatening our lives. What kind of letter do you think I’d talk about?”
“Oh, yeah. That letter. Pard, I don’t think—”
“Whatever you think, someone has gone on record that you and I need to be dealt with. Are we going to take this seriously and go home or are we going to see this thing through?”
“Am I going to take this seriously? We’re young, amigo. This is not the time to let someone squash our dreams.”
“And our dreams are?”
“We’re going to make a lot of money, Skip. We’re going to be rich, famous philanthropists.”
“Are we going to go through with this?”
Mr. Danger, James Lessor, took all of two seconds to respond.
“Come on, Skip. It’s a joke. Maybe these two investigators, Weezle and Markim, sent a letter to throw us off the scent.”
“The scent?”
“You know what I mean.”
“One of those guys is dead, James. And maybe that body was supposed to be you or me.”
“The name was Peter Stiffle. Remember? It wasn’t Weezle or Markim. We were wrong with our identification.”
“James, think about it. What happened to our plumbing company?”
He stepped back, eyeing me.
“I’m not exactly sure what you mean.”
“You came up with this idea for a fake company. To throw people off the scent. Right?”
“I did.”
“So these guys, Weezle and Markim, take it one step further. They have fake IDs made up. They don’t want people to know that they are private investigators, right? And one of the fake IDs is for a Peter Stiffle.”
“No.”
“Dude, we both recognized the body from the online Yellow Page ad. It was one of the private detectives. You know it, I know it.”
“We only saw an Internet picture, Skip. We could be wrong.” He stared out at the water. “Okay, the dead guy was probably Weezle. And somebody just made a mistake in the identification process.”
“That’s what I’m thinking. And the cops will run finger-prints and eventually figure out the same thing.”
“Skip, I really want to follow this through. I think it’s all a bluff. But wha
t happens if someone really wants us dead?”
“It’s happened before, James. There are now three of us.”
“Count Mrs. T. in there, and there are four of us who don’t know anything about what’s going on.”
I couldn’t believe that I was the one who was stoking the fire.
“James, I read the letter. I’m a little concerned. But, dude, we’ve never had a better opportunity. There’s a lot of money at stake. If you’re on board, let’s find this gold. Okay?”
“We could up the ante.” He took a long swallow of beer and peered off into the dark night.
I had no idea where he was going with that.
“Our lives have been threatened,” he said.
“And?”
“We’re worth more now, right? When your life is on the line, you are worth more than when it’s not.”
“I suppose.” In a very strange way, it all made sense.
“So we want a share. Five percent of the gold.”
“That’s over two million dollars, James. You can’t ask for—”
“She’s getting over thirty, pard.”
She was. Getting thirty-three million dollars.
We went back to the bar and found Em and Amy in a deep conversation.
“I’ve got plans tonight, Skip. I sincerely hope those two aren’t going to suggest we hang out for the rest of the evening.”
“No way.”
Em smiled and beer in hand, she walked me to the exit.
“We’ve got a three a.m. meeting at some vacant property. We’d better catch some sleep before we start our adventure.”
She gave me a very seductive smile.
And I knew she had no intention of sleeping.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
At two thirty I heard the knock at my door. To be honest, we’d drifted off an hour ago. You can only be intimate for so long—or maybe it was just the two of us.
“Skip, you guys ready?”
“Give us ten minutes.”
Watching her cute bare butt as she walked to the bathroom, I listened to her.
“You know Amy is married?”
“Amy?”
“James’s newfound flame.”
“She told you that?”
“Married. Then she met some other guy three years ago at a funeral. This guy is married too. Anyway, they hit it off, and they’ve been seeing each other four or five times a year at romantic locations like this.”
“This guy wasn’t her husband?”
She called from the bathroom, the water running.
“No. The guy she’s been seeing left for his home yesterday and she was taking an extra two days to unwind.”
“Unwind?”
“This boyfriend, her lover, wears her out. She said the sex was intense. Boring with the husband but intense with the lover.”
“So she has intense sex with this longtime lover, he wears her out, then she picks up James and tonight they are—”
“We don’t know yet, do we?”
“James seems to—”
“He’s that kind of guy, Skip. He can have about whatever he wants.”
I couldn’t bring myself to ask the next question. Em didn’t even like James. They had a history of animosity. And yet she was saying that—
“Everything?”
“It certainly seems that way.” She was quiet for a moment then she turned the water off.
“Everything except me.”
“Thank you.”
Em walked out of the bathroom, and nudity aside, I realized just how much I loved this beautiful creature. I didn’t want anybody else.
I marveled at her physical beauty as she dressed, and when she was done, she motioned to me to do the same.
Five minutes later I opened the door and James was standing there, holding the flashlight.
“Time to dig, guys.”
I nodded. The shovels were in the truck, and we had a six-pack in the cab. It was two thirty in the morning and what could go wrong?
What indeed.
CHAPTER TWENTY
It was hot and I could taste the thick humidity in the air. The temperature was still in the eighties at three in the morning and the lingering odor of salt layered with the sweet smell of frangipani drifted across the early morning. My hands were sweating, either from the heat or my nervousness.
“Okay, Skip. Em stays on the perimeter. We scale the fence and approximate where the foundation would be.”
I was scared to death, but I seriously had high hopes. I was thinking that this thing might be doable. And if we found the information, we were going back to Mrs. T. and asking her for two million dollars as our cut. Two million bucks. I couldn’t even fathom that much money.
“Em, you’re good with all of this?”
“I’m going to walk three sides. The street side of the fence, the Ocean Air side, and the other side that you’ve yet to explore.”
James nodded in the dim light. “It doesn’t appear that you can walk the waterside. The fence goes right to the water’s edge. So, you’ll monitor the three sides and simply yell if someone seems threatening.”
“I can handle that, James.” She had never cared for his condescending attitude.
“I hope so.”
My biggest concern was keeping the two of them from killing each other until we had our information.
I walked to the fence, looked up, and told James to put his foot in my clasped hands. Once he did, I thrust him up and he was able to grab the top, pull himself up, and straddle the fence. It wasn’t razor sharp, but if he slipped and his crotch landed on the fence top I shuddered to think of the consequences.
James dropped from sight.
“Em, clasp your hands.”
She did, and I put my foot in the cup she made. Grabbing the metal fence weaving, I asked her to give me a boost.
I was up and straddling, lifting my leg and dropping into the vacant lot. James stood there, smiling.
“Don’t aim for anyone, Emily.” James had that taunt in his voice. “Just toss the shovels, dear.”
“Here they come, Jim.”
He hated being called Jim.
The first shovel landed inches from my best friend, the second much farther away. He said nothing.
We picked up the two spades and headed out to the southeast corner of the grassy property.
“There are two kinds of people in this world. Those with loaded guns and those who dig. You dig.” James kept walking in the dim light.
“I’ve got it, James. The Good, The Bad and The Ugly. Eastwood.”
“I’m proud of you, grasshopper.”
We both pulled up at the same spot. It felt right. This entire mission felt right.
“I’ll try it up here.” James motioned to a plot of ground. “You, back maybe ten feet. What do you think?”
“If it’s the southeast corner there’s a lot of southeast.”
“A lot of corner.”
I stuck the shovel in the ground and felt sandy earth. The tip went deep. Pulling a chunk of sand from the ground I dug back in, wondering what the owner would think when he inspected his property in the next several days. Clumps of packed sand piled up as I kept digging.
“James, anything at all?”
“Nothing.”
I forced the blade of the shovel deeper, hoping to find a solid base. Again, nothing.
Again and again. How much sand would have accumulated over almost eighty years? Inches, feet, yards? Still, I felt we were on the right track.
“We can change locations. Move in about two or three feet.” James walked closer to the center.
“Everything okay, boys?”
Em was on the Ocean Air side. I could barely make out her soft voice.
“Nothing yet, Em.”
Five feet and I planted the shovel in the ground. Again, the same old boring nothing. Once more and I felt the jarring in my hands and arms. I’d hit a stone. A rock. I moved the head of the shovel to go around the obs
tacle. I hit the same surface.
“James, I may have found something.”
In the dim light I saw him jerk his head up.
“Oh, my God, Skip. Do you think it might be—”
At that very moment I saw the light. The bright beam from a boat coming straight at us.
“James. There’s a boat heading for shore, right here. They’re heading for the boat dock. We’ve got to get the hell out of here.”
“Dude, you found a solid foundation.”
“James, there’s a frigging boat about one minute from docking.”
In the warm silence I heard the clink of metal on metal. Then a creak of hinges.
“Friend, someone is opening a gate. Can’t you hear it?” I loudly whispered my comment, aware of the clanking of metal.
“Let’s get out of here.”
And that’s when I heard the dogs barking. Not just barking, but growling with a killer instinct.
I could barely see James as he ran across the property, his feet flying. He grabbed the fence on the Ocean Air side, and grasping at the metal grate he moved up the structure and reached the top, vaulting over.
I spun around and there they were. Two big, muscular, black dogs, lips peeled back, sharp teeth bared, and ready to rip human flesh. My human flesh.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Running like I’d never run before, I hit the closest fence, clawing my way up. The dogs sounded like they were moments away and I jammed my fingers into the metal web, pulling and pulling, and finally I was at the top and I perched up there before dropping down. I felt the jolt in my ankles and knees.
The hounds howled on the other side. My Em stood there, her mouth hanging open. I had the same reaction. I’d escaped. I really had.
“I never saw them coming, Skip. I was on the Ocean Air side.” She sounded breathless, speaking in a soft voice. “I am so sorry.”
And as I glanced around I saw that I’d landed on the side we’d never seen. Four small block houses ran down to the water on the other side of the street from the fence.
“I noticed a truck when I walked over there. Somebody must have gone in with the dogs, but from where?”