by Mac Fortner
“I agree, especially about Jim.”
I had been watching the sidewalk and noticed a girl pass by on a bicycle, looking a lot like Jenny. “JENNY!” I yelled, but she didn’t hear.
“You know that one?” Tanya asked.
“Kind of, I think. She helped me out of a jam the other night.”
“She’s been hanging around here for the last week or so. Been asking a lot of questions about the docks. Says she is going to buy a new boat and wants to make sure it will be safe leaving it here.”
“Really, she has money? I wouldn’t have thought.”
Chapter 8
I left Sloppy Joe’s and drove around town a little, looking for Jenny. There was no sign of her, so I decided to return to my boat. Her bicycle was leaning against my gate.
Stacy came out to her sundeck when she heard the gate.
“Hey, Cam,” she said. “You’ve got company. She’s hot.”
“Thanks for the warning. I’ll take it from here.”
Stacy was pretty hot herself in that micro bikini.
I stopped at the gangplank and looked around the boat. Jenny was sitting on the patio, sipping on what looked like a Wild Turkey.
“Jenny?”
“Who were you expecting? You saw my bicycle,” she said with a crooked little smile.
“How was I to know that was your bicycle?”
“Because you yelled at me when I rode past Sloppy Joe’s.”
“Oh, so you did hear me.”
“I didn’t want to disturb you and your girlfriend.”
“My friend. And she says she knows you.”
“I’ve talked to her a few times.”
“What are you doing here?”
“You may come aboard, you know. I came to see how you were. So, how are you?”
“Not bad, considering,” I said, wondering how to play this. She had seen me naked, so I didn’t have any bargaining chips to play. Everything is out in the open, so to speak.
“How did you know where I lived?” I asked.
I sat down in the chair closest to her and could smell the sweet fragrance of her perfume. Now I had a better look at her, she was quite stunning. She had short black hair and ample breasts, the first two things a man notices. She also had a seductive smile. I guessed she was about five foot six inches tall.
“Did you get the phone number washed off?”
“Yes, I had to scrub it for a while, but it finally came off.”
“You want me to reapply it?”
“Maybe another time. I’m not quite strong enough yet.”
“Too bad. I was going to write you a note this time.”
“Tanya tells me you’re in the market for a boat.”
“Yes, I am. I’ve just moved here from Michigan. I had to leave mine there. I can’t live without one.”
“I’ll be glad to introduce you to a friend of mine who owns a boatyard and handles yacht sales.”
“That would be great. Thank you,” she said, smiling.
“Mind if I ask what you do for a living?”
“Nothing anymore. I did run a very successful hedge fund. I got out while the getting was good.”
“Smart lady.”
My cell phone rang, and I excused myself and stood to answer.
“Hello.”
“Mr. Derringer?”
“Yes, this is he.”
“My name is Susan Crane. I understand you’re a private detective.”
“Yes.”
“I would like to talk to you about finding my husband.”
“Do you live in Key West?”
“Yes, we do.”
Although I would like to spend all my time searching for the men who might have taken my wife, I needed an income too. The creditors like it when I pay my bills.
“Give me your address and a time I can come and talk with you,” I said, pulling a pen and a scrap of paper from my pocket.
She gave me an address on White Street and asked if I could come around one thirty.
“I’ll see you then,” I said, hung up and sat back down.
“Sorry about that. Business.”
“Anything important?”
“Just a new client. Needs some legal help.”
“So, you’re a lawyer.”
“Not anymore. Used to be.”
“A used-to-be lawyer. What does a used-to-be lawyer do when he’s not a lawyer any longer?”
“I’m a private investigator.”
“Oh, that explains the shape you were in when I found you. Someone was mad at you. Was it a jealous husband?” she said, raising her eyebrows.
“I don’t know, but I doubt it. More likely a nervous boat-jacker.”
“Is there a problem with that down here?”
“Not a big one, but enough that you should be careful. You shouldn’t go out by yourself too often.”
“I guess you’ll have to go with me then. I don’t know any other big strong men.”
“I’ll be honored to protect you on occasion.”
“Thank you.”
“I have a few things to do today, but if you would like to join me for supper tonight, I grill a mean steak,” I bragged.
“I’ll bring the wine.”
“Perfect.”
She leaned forward and kissed me softly on the lips. I could feel a stirring down deep inside. We stood, and I walked her to her bicycle.
“You don’t have a car?” I asked.
“I have a car. I prefer a bike when I can, though.”
“How green of you.”
“Whenever I can.”
She rode away, and I watched until she was out of sight. Very pretty, but why was she in Cudjoe Key in the middle of the night?
Chapter 9
I ate a sandwich and washed up, changed clothes and drove to White Street. Mrs. Crane’s house was on a corner, surrounded by a three-foot-high white picket fence. Flowers adorned the sidewalk and the boxes under the windows.
I rang the doorbell. It was answered by a woman in her late sixty’s with grey hair pulled back too tightly into a bun. She was tall for a woman and still had her schoolgirl figure.
“Mrs. Crane?” I said.
“Mr. Derringer, please come in,” she said, stepping aside for me to enter.
“Thank you. You may call me Cam,” I said.
The house was bright for a conch style home. Big windows, which I could tell weren’t original, let in plenty of sunshine. The furnishings were modern, and it was very stylishly decorated. Large oriental rugs covered the old wood floors.
“Have a seat,” she said, motioning me toward a large wingback chair.
I took a seat, and she offered me some coffee or tea.
“No thank you. I just finished lunch.”
“Well, I guess I should just get right to it then. My husband William—we call him Bill—has been missing for three weeks. I went to the Sheriff’s office, but they didn’t have any luck finding him. I don’t think they even tried.”
“It’s not easy to find someone unless they turn up dead. So, it’s a good thing they haven’t found him.”
“Yes, I guess you’re right if you look at it that way.”
“Where did you last see him?”
“We had breakfast, and he kissed me goodbye and left for work like every other day. That was three weeks ago tomorrow.”
“Where does Bill work?”
“He’s an independent insurance investigator. He has an office in the Conway building on Outer Flagler Avenue.”
“Was he working on a case at the time he disappeared?”
“He had several going. He always did. One was a man suing a trucking company for running into the back of him at a stop sign. He said something about a stolen painting from the museum and a stolen boat up in Marathon Key.”
That one set off alarm bells in my head. Looking for stolen boats had become very dangerous.
“May I go to his office and have a look around?” I asked.
&n
bsp; “Yes, you can, but the Sheriff already took a look. He didn’t find anything. That was about all he did.”
In my opinion, the Sheriff never does more than is necessary.
“May I ask how you came to call me?”
“I remember you from your court days. You were quite the attorney. I saw your name in the phone book and thought, if you were as good at being a detective as you were a lawyer, I would take my chances with you.”
“Thank you for that. It’s good to receive praise once in a while.”
“You should still be a lawyer. That was a bad deal, and I know you did the right thing.”
“Yes, I did, but not in the eyes of the Bar Examiners.”
She gave me the address of Bill’s office and the keys. I left and drove straight to his office. It was a large building with ten suites. Bill’s was upstairs on the end.
I inserted the key, but the door was unlocked. Leave it to the sheriff’s office to leave the door open. I pushed it open and stood back instinctively but heard nothing from inside. No one shot at me, so I assumed it was safe.
Turning on the lights, I had a look around. The office was furnished sparingly but efficiently. There was a large desk in the center toward the back, four padded chairs facing it, the same number of file cabinets on the left and a bookshelf on the right. There was a small refrigerator with a coffee pot on top.
I walked around to the back of the desk and sat down. I found nothing of interest in the drawers; maybe even a little too neat. I lifted the desk mat and peeked under. There was a handwritten note. It said, “Follow the money circle.”
I stuck it in my pocket. I needed to think on that for a while.
Opening the file cabinets, I looked through the new case files. Here was the one on the motorist suing the trucking company. I studied it. It seemed the poor guy had a case. I wrote down his name and number to call him later.
The stolen art from the museum had been appraised at twenty-five-hundred dollars. I had never heard of Sabena Larue, the artist. The price was probably inflated, but I didn’t think that was enough to kill a man over.
That was it. There was no file on a stolen boat in Marathon. Someone had beaten me to it.
I stood in the center of the room, trying to pick-up on the vibes, wondering what he’d been feeling the last time he was here. I held my arms out in a Jesus like stance and closed my eyes. I tried to envision the room through my third eye, the way they taught me in yoga class. It didn’t work. It never did.
I decided to give Sheriff Buck a visit and so drove to his office.
“Well, Cam, have you come to your senses?” is the way he greeted me as I walked in.
“No, not yet. This is on a different case I have recently acquired. I believe you have been working on it.”
He looked at me defensively. “What case is that?”
“Missing person, William Crane.”
He flinched. It didn’t go unnoticed.
Chapter 10
“Yes, we have a bulletin out all the way to Miami for him. He just disappeared. Why does this interest you?”
“His wife Susan has hired me. I went to his office today. The door was open. Did your men maybe forget to lock it?”
“I doubt it. We don’t work like that,” he said, puffing his chest out in a self-justifying manner.
“I thought maybe we could team up on this one. She seems like a nice lady. I’d like to get her husband back,” I said, thinking I could catch more flies with sugar.
“Yeah, me too, but you know as well as I do it ain’t gonna happen.”
“Maybe, but I feel like I should try. Do you have anything that might help me?”
“Nota”
“Did you question the museum or the car accident he was working on?”
“Sure did. I don’t see any reason either one of them would have to kill him.”
“No, me either. What about the boat theft he was working on, up in Marathon?”
“Don’t know anything about that other than Susan said there was one. I guess you think it is related to the other case you’re working on.”
“Don’t know; none of it makes sense yet. I’ll let you know if I find anything. I hope you’ll do the same,” I said, knowing we were both being insincere.
“Sure will, Cam, but if I were you, I wouldn’t spend too much time on it. When people are missing that long, they usually show up in the morgue.”
I left and drove to the store to get a couple of T-bone steaks. I grabbed a few potatoes and some green beans. I thought that would do it with the wine. With wine, everything tastes good.
Once back home, I marinated the stakes in my special sauce, covered them and let them sit.
I fixed a Wild Turkey and got out my notepad. The note from Bills office fell out with it.
“Follow the money circle.”
I laid it aside and jotted down a few thoughts.
Why did Buck flinch; where was the file on the missing boat; why did someone jump me, maybe nothing to do with this case, but really, coincidence? And why was Jenny in Cudjoe Key? Jenny probably had nothing to do with this, but that’s the way I think.
The time was getting away from me, so I made a note to call Marathon tomorrow and find out more about the missing boat.
I started my green egg grill and took a shower. When I got out, I changed clothes three times before settling on a Rum City Bar T-shirt and cargo shorts. Flip flops topped off the wardrobe. I was trying to show her how we dressed for supper down here in the Keys. Looking in the mirror at myself, I felt I had done it. My once dark brown hair now had a hint of grey in it. It was a little long, just covering my ears. My mustache had worked its way down into a slight Fu Man Chu. I grabbed my electric trimmer and leveled it out to the corners of my mouth again. I still had a strong jaw from working out and really had no noticeable wrinkles. My nose was okay. It had been broken a few times, but I only had a slight bump on the bridge.
I started a slow cook on the green beans, put the potatoes on the grill, and picked up my guitar. This was one thing I always enjoyed. Playing guitar and writing songs. Although I wasn’t exactly a good singer, I could play guitar.
Jenny showed up at seven o’clock wearing a Jimmy Buffett T-shirt and shorts. “I hope I’m not late.”
“Not at all,” I said. “I’ve just been enjoying the evening. I’m afraid I started drinking without you, though.”
“Not to worry, I brought reinforcements,” she said, pulling a bottle of wine from her purse.
I picked it up and read the label, “My compliments to the barkeep.”
“I was hoping you liked red.”
“Red before bed, white before light.”
“I’ve never heard that one before.”
“I know; I just made it up. I’ve been writing songs tonight and was still in the rhyming mood.”
“You’ll have to play something for me later,” she said, kissing me softly.
“I plan to,” I said, returning her kiss.
The potatoes were ready, so I removed them from the grill and opened the vents to increase the temperature to five hundred degrees.
“How do you take your steaks?” I said.
“Medium well please.”
“Same here.”
I put the steaks on and opened the wine to let it breathe. Two minutes on each side and then I closed the vents to allow the steaks to bake.
I removed them from the grill and placed them on the table. Jenny had the salads ready along with the beans and potatoes.
“Good teamwork,” I said.
“I knew we’d be good together,” she said with a sly smile.
The meal was delicious, and so was the company.
“You’re good at this. I guess you give all the girls this treatment,” she said, digging for confirmation that she was special.
“Actually, this is a first for me. Since my wife went missing five years ago, I really haven’t dated much. I went out for a few dinners, but nothing came o
f them. You are the first to visit my humble abode.”
“Wow, talk about pressure.”
“No need to feel any. I haven’t anything to compare you to.”
~*~
We had a wonderful evening. We drank our wine while cuddling on the chase lounge and watching the stars. We talked about everything and nothing.
Around midnight, she said, “I think I should go now.”
“You can have your choice. Either you can take the bed, and I’ll sleep on the couch, or I can call a taxi. I really don’t want you to drive after drinking. It is late,” I said firmly.
“Okay, I’ll take the bed. But I want you to join me,” she said, turning to see the expression on my face.
I was torn. I wanted her, really bad, but I didn’t feel right. It was like deciding that Malinda was never going to return. In my heart, I knew she wasn’t.
“Can I take a rain check on that one?” I said. “I need to talk to myself first.”
“I understand. You sleep on the couch.”
“Thank you,” I said, and then we kissed.
Lying on the couch that night, I thought about Malinda. I still remembered what she was wearing the first time I saw her—and the last.
We met at a party when I was attending Yale University. She was in town visiting her cousin for the weekend.
I was dancing with another girl and drinking beer as I did when I made a beautiful move and spilled it right on Malinda’s head. She got up from her chair and threw her own beer in my face. We stood there, glaring at each other, both of us dripping beer. Finally, I reached out my hand and said, “Nice to meet you. Do you come here often?” We both started laughing, and the rest was history.
I wonder what she would think about Jenny being here? I’ll never know.
Chapter 11
The next morning, I felt myself being shaken awake. I slowly opened my eyes and saw it was Diane.
“Why are you sleeping on the couch, Cam?” she said.
I sat up and looked around. Everything had been put away and the bed, which I could see from the couch, was neatly made.
“Couldn’t get comfortable so I thought I would camp out,” I said, realizing that Jenny was gone.