Cam Derringer Box Set

by Mac Fortner

  I guess she saw the pain on my face. “I’m sorry, Cam, I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “That’s okay. No harm in asking questions. After all, if you’re going to be a private eye, then you have to ask questions.”

  We were quiet for a few minutes, and I looked out the window again. The red Mustang was still there. I had spotted it first when we entered the insurance building in Islamorada.

  “You don’t have a boyfriend around here do you?” I asked.

  “No, I don’t. Why?”

  “That Mustang has been following us all day. Someone is nervous.”

  Jenny looked out the window at it. She leaned back a little and slid slightly away from the window as if to hide.

  “Do you know the car?”

  “No, I’ve never seen it before.”

  “I’ll get behind it when we leave and run the plates.”

  We finished our second glass of wine and left. Once in the car, I swung wide around the lot and got the plate number.

  I called Sheriff Buck and asked if he would run it for me.

  “What are you up to, Cam?” he said.

  “Just curious as to who has been following me all day.”

  “I’ll get back to you,” he said.

  I drove slowly out of Key Colony. It was the wise thing to do after two glasses of wine. They don’t take to speeders in this town.

  I turned left onto Highway One and drove toward Sombrero Beach Road.

  The Mustang which was following me out of Key Colony turned right.

  “Well, I guess he got tired of us,” I said.

  “We are kind of boring,” Jenny joked.

  My cell phone rang.

  “Hello,” I answered.

  “Cam, are you sure you got the plate right? This number doesn’t register,” Sheriff Buck said.

  “I think so. He stopped following us just now. If he comes back, I’ll check it again.”

  Chapter 15

  “Okay, let me know,” he said and hung up.

  I turned left again on Sombrero Beach Road, drove to the first right and turned into a golf community. Bartley’s house was halfway around the street and on the water.

  I asked Jenny to stay in the car this time. “I’ll be right back. You never know how you’ll be greeted without an appointment. I don’t want anyone punching you in that pretty little nose,” I told her.

  “I’ll be waiting for you,” she said.

  I walked to the massive front door and rang the bell. A minute later, a man in painters’ coveralls answered the door.

  “Can I help you?” he said, sounding annoyed.

  “Yes, I would like to speak to Gary Bartley please.”

  “Mister Bartley doesn’t live here anymore,” he said in an impatient tone.

  He opened the door wider and said, “Look at this place. He destroyed it before he left.”

  I looked inside. He was right. Some walls had “Kiss my ass bank” spray-painted on them, and others had holes kicked in them. Lights and appliances were gone.

  “Did he leave anything behind? Personal stuff?” I asked.

  “Nope, not a damn thing.”

  I thanked him for his time and went back to the car.

  “It looks like Bartley lost his home to the bank. What do you want to bet he was losing his boat too when it turned up missing?”

  “What are we going to do now?”

  “I guess we’ll go home and regroup.”

  We went back to my boat. We thought sitting on the patio and having a Wild Turkey might help us think.

  When I opened the gate, it squeaked. Stacy came out and called to me.

  “Cam, you had visitors while you were out. Two big guys in suits,” she said.

  “Thanks, Stacy,” I said and drew my gun.

  “Jenny, will you wait here for a minute? I need to check this out.”

  “Sure, no problem,” she said.

  “Jenny, come on up on my boat and wait. They’re gone, but it will be safer anyway,” Stacy said.

  Jenny did.

  “Thanks, Stacy,” I said.

  I walked cautiously to my boat. The dock squeaked and bounced as I walked. I willed it to be still, but it didn’t cooperate. Many times, I welcomed the warning it cast off, but not now. When I was where I could see on board, I could tell the boat had been searched.

  Whoever it was didn’t bother to put anything back. Chairs were over-turned, and books were off the shelves. The bed was stripped and the mattress on the floor.

  I didn’t know what they were looking for, but I bet they didn’t find it, then remembered the files Sheriff Buck had come after. He’d said the FBI would come for them.

  I stepped into the cabin with my gun at arm’s length. I felt something beneath my foot, stepped back and looked down. It was a glass unicorn. I had given it to Malinda one year for her birthday. We had spotted it in New York in a display window at Saks Fifth Avenue. She had a fit over it, so I went back later that day and bought it for her.

  Now it was broken. I’ll get whoever did this, I promised myself.

  I picked it up and tried to piece the parts back together. It looked like they would fit. I placed it on a shelf for safe-keeping until I could get some super glue to repair it.

  The bedroom looked like a bomb had gone off. My good bedside lamp was broken and lying on the floor. There was no need for that. Whoever did this was trying to send me a message.

  The worst part, though, was all the holes in my walls. Someone had taken a hammer to them all. Ass-holes.

  I went back outside and called to Jenny. She came to the boat and looked in from the dock.

  “We need to call the Sheriff,” she said.

  “Yeah, I guess we do. There’s a lot of damage in here. I’m going to have to turn it in to insurance.”

  “Who do you think did this?”

  “Maybe the FBI. Sheriff Buck said they would come for my files on these boat jacking cases.”

  “Why would they want your files? Is there something in them that would interest them?”

  “I guess they think so,” I said, looking around again at all the destruction.

  I called the Sheriff while Jenny walked through the disaster area.

  “He’s on his way. He doesn’t sound too happy with me, though. He said, ‘I told you so.’”

  “He told you the FBI would do this?”

  “Well, not exactly this, but he did say they would come for the files. He came to get them from me, but I told him I didn’t have them.”

  “Where are they?”

  “My friend has them. Diane, you met her.”

  “Yes, I hope she’s not in danger.”

  “Good thought, I better call her.”

  I called Diane and told her about the boat. “I think you better return those files to me tomorrow. I don’t want them coming to you for them.”

  “Okay, Cam, but I’m going to copy them first and put the copy in my safe deposit box.”

  “Good idea,” I said.

  “I’ll be there in about an hour. I want to see the boat.”

  “Okay, but it’s not pretty.”

  “It never was,” she joked.

  Chapter 16

  Sheriff Buck arrived about twenty minutes later. It was starting to get dark, and I saw his flashlight coming down the dock. Barbie heard the gate squeak and came out on her deck.

  “Hiya, Sheriff,” she said.

  “Hello, Barbie,” he said, tipping his hat.

  “I’ll get the lights for you.”

  She walked to the gate and flipped a switch on the post. A string of party lights came on and lit the dock.

  “Thanks,” the sheriff yelled back at her.

  He came to the boat and looked around. “I don’t think the FBI did this. When I told them you didn’t have the files they said they would get a warrant and force you to hand them over.”

  “Maybe this is the way they force people,” I said.

  “Who else would want those
files?” he asked.

  “I guess the guilty party.”

  “And who is that?”

  “I don’t know, but someone is nervous. They beat the shit out of me and have now ransacked my boat. Someone thinks I’m close to something.”

  “And you’re not?”

  “Maybe; I don’t know.”

  He filed a report and took some pictures. Before he left, he asked me one more time for the files.

  “I swear I don’t have them.”

  “But you do know where they are, don’t you?”

  “I could probably find them if I wanted to.”

  “Find them before you get killed.”

  “I will.”

  “Were there any witnesses?”

  “Stacy saw two big guys in suits.”

  “I’ll talk to her on the way out.”

  He left, and I started picking things up and trying to put my life back together.

  Diane arrived a few minutes later. She and Jenny pitched in, and we had the place looking livable again in a few hours.

  “Thanks, ladies,” I said. “Now I would like to take you two to supper.”

  “It’s pretty late, but I could eat something, and maybe a drink,” Diane said.

  “I don’t have any other plans. Why not,” Jenny said.

  We all squeezed into my Mercedes and went to old town.

  Duvall Street was packed. It usually was at night. We walked down to the Hogs Breath Saloon. It appeared there was standing room only, but I know people. We were seated in just five minutes. It was a miracle.

  We ordered drinks and appetizers. The entertainment was top notch, as usual.

  “So, what do the two of you think? Would the FBI do something like this?” I asked them.

  Diane said, “From what I’ve seen on television shows they would. But then, that’s TV.”

  “No way. They know they would be exposed and open for a lawsuit. I think it’s either a robbery or whoever has something to hide,” Jenny said.

  “Either way, I’m going to find them,” I said firmly.

  Our appetizers came, and we busied ourselves devouring them.

  “I was hungrier than I thought,” I said, sticking a chicken wing in my mouth.

  “Yeah, me too,” Jenny said.

  Diane didn’t say anything. She just looked at us with a potato wedge sticking out of her mouth. We all laughed.

  Two men entered the bar and stood at the end. They looked out of place. They weren’t drinking or even smiling. They looked around the room and finally settled their eyes on our table. I returned the stare. They broke off first, acting as though they weren’t interested in us, but I knew they were.

  I started to rise, but Jenny took my arm and pulled me back down.

  “I saw them too,” she said. “Let it go for now. This isn’t the time or place to accuse anyone. Not in a bar. A bar fight can turn ugly.”

  I looked at the wall behind them and saw that the web camera was on. It ran most of the time. They were right in front of it.

  “I’ll leave them alone, but excuse me for a moment,” I said and stood.

  I went to the manager who was a friend of mine. “Jerry, how you doing?” I said, smiling.

  “Fine, how about you? Wait, that was a stupid question, seeing the girls at your table.”

  “Life is good,” I said. “I wonder if you would do me a favor.”

  “Sure, which one do you want me to take? Diane, I hope,” he said, grinning.

  “You just keep your hands off of Diane.”

  “Whatever.”

  “I would like a copy of the last ten minutes of the webcam. Can you do that for me?”

  “For you, sure,” he said.

  “Thanks, I owe you one.”

  “Which one?”

  I just shook my head and walked back to the table. I could feel their eyes on me. I stopped and looked back, directly at them. They looked away uncomfortably. Idiots.

  Chapter 17

  We finished our drinks and rose to leave. I turned and mock-saluted the two men at the end of the bar. This time they didn’t look away. I could see the steam coming off them. I might have pissed them off.

  We returned to the boat and Diane kissed me on the cheek and left.

  “Would you like a nightcap?” I asked Jenny.

  “How about a rain check? I have a few things I need to do, and it’s getting late,” she said, apologetically.

  “Not a problem,” I assured her. “I’ll take you home.”

  When we arrived, I walked her to her door and kissed her goodnight. I felt like a high school boy again. Once she was safely inside, I walked back to my car.

  A red mustang was parked down the street. I could see the two men inside watching me and was sure it was the same car from earlier, and the same two men from the bar. This time I was prepared. I drew the gun from my waistband and aimed it at them. The car roared to life, they slammed it in reverse and burnt the tires trying to get away. I wanted to shoot them very bad, but they hadn’t done anything wrong.

  I went back to Jenny’s house and knocked on the door. I could hear her on the phone.

  “. . . and two goons watching us from the bar. What the hell was that . . . I have to go. Someone’s at the door.”

  When she opened the door, I acted as though I hadn’t heard the conversation.

  “Jenny, the two men from the bar just made an attempt to attack me. Luckily, I was ready this time. I thought I had better see if you wanted me to stay with you for a while or if you wanted to come with me. I don’t know if they’ll return.”

  She looked out the door, up and down the street. “Are they gone? Are you okay?”

  “Yes, on both counts. But I’m worried about you.”

  “I doubt if they’ll be back. You probably scared them, and they know we’ll be looking for them. I’ll be okay.”

  “Okay but call me if you hear anything. I’m only moments away.”

  She kissed me again and said, “Be careful. We don’t even know what these guys want.”

  ~*~

  I drove back home the long way, zigzagging around town to see if I was being followed. The conversation I’d overheard kept going through my mind. Who had she been talking to? Whoever it was, they were privy to our situation. Was it the same person she had called from Islamorada?

  ~*~

  Back at the boat, I poured another Wild Turkey and sat outside with the lights off for a while. I tried Jack on the phone again. Still no answer. Now I was really worried. So far Jack, Bill Crane and maybe Gary Bartley were missing. What, if anything, does Jenny have to do with all this?

  ~*~

  “The boss wants to talk to you,” Ronnie Pierce told Billie Daryl and handed him the phone.

  “Yes, Juba,” Billie said into the phone.

  “Did you get him?” a rough voice said.

  “Not yet. I sent two good men, but he had a gun.”

  “And they didn’t?”

  “Didn’t think they needed one. He surprised us.”

  “God damn it, Billie. Am I going to have to do it myself? He’s getting too nosy. Do you want to go to the gas chamber? You should have taken care of him when you dumped him in Cudjoe.”

  “Don’t worry. We have it under control,” Billie said, defensively.

  “It doesn’t sound like you do. You better take care of this soon, or I’ll be looking for some new partners. Live ones,” the boss said and slammed down the receiver.

  “Damn, Ronnie, I think Juba might be a little pissed,” Billie said, laughing.

  “Yeah, maybe we should kill him too. He can join the party at the bottom of the sea.”

  They both laughed.

  Chapter 18

  My phone rang early the next morning. I couldn’t decipher the noise at first. I sat up, put my feet on the floor and looked around. My head hurt a little, and I remembered having too many drinks the night before. I picked up the phone.

  “Hello,” I said, trying to sound
as if I’d been up for hours and just finished my workout.

  “Mr. Derringer?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Crane. How are you this morning?” I said, recognizing her voice.

  “I’m okay, but I’m still worried. I think you should come by again today. I have something I want to give you,” she said, almost in a whisper.

  “I can be there in about an hour.”

  “That will be fine. I’ll see you then,” she said and hung up.

  I sat on the side of the bed for a moment and made a promise to God that I would never drink again; at least not that much.

  I stood and walked to the shower. The water ran cold for about thirty seconds before it started to heat up. I took a little of the cold before enjoying the heat. I let the water run down the back of my neck, and I lightly massaged my aching muscles. I showered until the water started to get cold again. I felt much better already. Maybe I’d been a little hasty with my prayer.

  I thought oatmeal and orange juice sounded like a good way to start the day. I put a couple slices of bread in the toaster and pushed down the lever.

  My automatic timer on the coffee pot hadn’t come on yet, so I flipped the switch on and walked out to the patio, to check out the new day.

  An empty Wild Turkey bottle sat on the table. Under it was a piece of paper. I lifted the bottle and picked it up. Written in what looked like a child’s printing was a note.

  “Back off or join jack!”

  Join Jack. What the hell happened to Jack. I tried his number again. This time the phone was answered. “Let it go, Cam” was all that was said, and then the line went dead. It wasn’t Jacks voice.

  ~*~

  I ate a couple of bites of breakfast and called Jenny, to see if she was okay.

  “I’m fine, Cam. I told you they wouldn’t be back,” she said.

  “Just checking. See you tonight?”

  “I guess so. What are you doing today?”

  I didn’t want to tell her about the note or about Mrs. Crane calling. I needed to figure out if she had any connection to all of this first. I hoped not.