Cam Derringer Box Set

by Mac Fortner

“Oh, just some errands. A few loose ends on another case,” I said. “Then I need to go work-out.”

  “Good, I want you to keep that body looking good for me.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Why don’t you come over here for supper tonight? I’ll show off my cooking this time.”

  “Alright. I’ll bring the wine this time.”

  “See you around six,” she said, and we said goodbye.

  ~*~

  I pulled up in front of Susan Crane’s house. The front door was open. I drew my gun and walked slowly to the porch. Standing beside the door, I took a quick peek inside. I could see Susan lying on the floor. I stepped inside and surveyed the room with my gun. No one was here, and the house was quiet.

  I went to Susan and felt for a pulse. She was alive and starting to stir.

  “Mrs. Crane, are you okay? Can you hear me?” I said, placing my hand on her cheek.

  She looked at me. It took a minute for her to focus.

  “Mr. Derringer. Did they take the folder?” she said.

  I looked around the room and saw no folder.

  “Where was it?” I asked.

  “On the coffee table,” she said weakly.

  “I’m afraid they did. Lay still, I’m going to call an ambulance.”

  When they took her to the hospital, she was still conscious and talking. They said she didn’t appear to have any major injuries, but they needed to check her over at the hospital.

  I searched the house for the folder after they’d left. I found none. I wondered what was in it that was so important that someone would do this for it. In the master closet, I found some very expensive clothes; five pairs of women’s Milano shoes.

  I picked up a pair of men shoes, to read the label. Louis Vuitton; Christ, these things sold for around ten thousand. How in the hell could they afford this?

  Silk suits hung next to fashion designer dresses.

  I needed to see their financial records.

  I leafed through the desk in his home office and found what I was looking for, an American Express Centurion Card. I used to own one. Now I couldn’t even pay the annual fee.

  I copied down the numbers and the code on the back, wiped it off and returned it to the drawer. These people had some serious money. Either they’d won the lottery, or they did something besides investigating insurance claims.

  Whatever they did, they’d have to keep a low profile, but he must have gotten in over his head on something because now no one knew where he was.

  I found another drawer in which there was a file. It contained a list of stolen boats. I looked through to see if anything rang a bell. The list went way back.

  The column on the left had the registration numbers next to which came the size and make, then the name, with a dollar figure down the right.

  “FL 4098 LP – 24FT. – OFFSHORE – LADY A – $25,000”.

  The list went on like that. I scanned the names.

  I came to the one I was looking for.

  “FL 6253 LP – 34FT. – MERIDIAN SEDAN – MY MALINDA --- $175,000”.

  My heart sank just reading that name on someone else’s files, and that boat was worth at least $250,000 five years ago. I ran the list through the printer on the table and returned it to its hiding place.

  I was about to leave when I heard the front door open. I could hear two men talking. They were coming toward the office.

  I hid in the closet and waited, expecting to be caught. They turned on the light and went straight to the desk.

  “I’ll get the files and check the safe for the key to the box,” one man said.

  “Okay but make it quick. We don’t want anyone to find us here,” the other man said.

  “Someone’s been here,” the first one said. “My files are gone.”

  Son of a bitch. It was William Crane. He wasn’t missing, he was hiding.

  “Gone. How can that be?” the other said.

  “You need to find Susan and ask her what happened to my files,” Bill said.

  “But she’ll know I’ve been here if I do that.”

  “Tell her you need them for a case you’re working,”

  “Okay, I’ll try. Get the key from the safe for the money and let’s go.”

  I recognized the other voice now. It was John Trapper, the insurance man from Islamorada.

  I chanced a peek through the slats in the door. I could see Bill as he went across the room and moved a bookshelf. Behind it was a safe. He opened it and removed a small box containing a key. Probably a safety deposit box, I thought.

  He closed the safe and returned to his desk where he pulled the file of the boat listings I had copied.

  “At least we have these,” he said.

  They left.

  Clearly they didn’t know Susan was in the hospital, so they didn’t have anything to do with that.

  Now, this was a whole new case. I wasn’t looking for a missing person any longer. Now I was looking for a man on the run.

  As soon as I heard the front door close, I ran to the window to see the car. It was a white Cadillac SUV. I didn’t have a good view of the plates, but I reasoned it was probably John’s.

  I left Mrs. Crane a note on the table, asking her to call me. I didn’t really know what else to do. I decided I would check with the hospital later that afternoon.

  Chapter 19

  Jack Stiller sat in a hard wooden chair in the bedroom of Juba’s house. His hands were tied behind his back, and he had a gag in his mouth. His eye was swollen and his nose broken from the continuous beating he had been taking.

  He wasn’t usually this easy to take advantage of. His six-foot-six frame and gym induced muscles made it difficult for someone just to grab him and tie him up, but this time he’d been suckered in by a beautiful face and a hot body.

  He was thinking back to the days before he became an investigator. Selling boats hadn’t been such a bad way to make a living. He’d been home every night by six o’clock; free to go to bars and enjoy life, but now he didn’t think he would ever be free again. He had seen too much.

  He heard the door open and cringed at the sound. This wasn’t going to be good. It never was.

  “Well, Jack, I’m tired of trying to beat the answers out of you, so I give up,” the boss said.

  “My friend here is going to take you for a boat ride. If you decide to tell us where the pictures are before he gets to his favorite spot, we’ll let you go, but we can’t let you go with those pictures. I don’t want to do this, Jack, but I will. So please tell us.”

  He pulled the gag from Jack’s mouth. “Well?”

  Jack looked at him and smiled. “If I die, the pictures go to the police.”

  “No, they don’t. You didn’t have time for that.” The boss paused for a moment. “Ronnie, take him out to the special place you took Gary Bartley and drop him off if he doesn’t talk. Make it tonight and take the girl with you. I want her to do it. Use her boat.”

  “Yes, sir, my pleasure.”

  The cell phone rang, and the man they called Juba looked at the caller ID.

  “Excuse me,” he said to Ronnie.

  He turned and left the office. He didn’t want Ronnie to know too much.

  “Yeah,” he answered.

  “It’s John,” the caller said. “I was with Bill all day. I don’t think he knows any more than what was in his files.”

  “We have that file, John. Does Bill have any idea where the boat records are?”

  “Yeah, they were in his desk. He said there was no copy. How did you get the file?”

  “Mrs. Crane was attacked in her house today. Somehow the files ended up on my desk if you know what I mean. She’s at the hospital. Go visit her.”

  “Okay, but what about Bill?”

  “Where is he?”

  “He’s at the Peterson’s vacation home. He has a key for it while they’re gone.”

  “Let him be until we’re sure there aren’t any surprises then we’ll decid
e what to do with him. We really need him for the insurance deals.”

  “Yes, sir,” John said.

  The boss hung up and called for Ronnie. “Try to get this son of a bitch to talk before you kill him. We need to at least get one of those files or the pictures. Shit, everything is going wrong all at once.”

  Chapter 20

  I went home to eat lunch. My small breakfast was wearing off fast. After rifling through the fridge, I decided on a big, fat all-beef hotdog. It wasn’t bad, but it did make me crave a steak.

  I stopped by the hospital to check on Susan after that. The nurse at the desk told me she’d been treated and released about an hour before. I asked her if anyone had picked her up. She checked her board and said a Mr. Trapper did. I thanked her and left.

  How did Trapper know where to find her so quickly? Things were really getting complicated. Every time I thought I had something figured out, something else changed.

  Now I was more worried about Jack than I was about Bill Crane. If he didn’t want to be found, why should I waste my time looking for him?

  I went to the marina, the last place I knew he’d been going. He’d said he’d wanted to talk to security there.

  I entered the security station and was greeted by Dan Haden, an old friend. We went to high-school together.

  “Well, Cam, I haven’t seen you around for a while. Where you been? You missed poker last week,” Dan said, sticking his hand out to shake mine. “That piss-head Roy took everyone’s money again. I lost eight dollars myself.”

  Dan was referring to a monthly poker game we’d been conducting since high school. Five of us showed up regularly, and three to four others appeared when they could. We all started school together and have remained friends since.

  “Well, last week I was in the hospital, mending, and I’ve been pretty busy since.”

  “What happened to you?”

  “I was snooping around your docks, looking for a stolen boat, and someone took offense to that. They beat me and left me naked in Cudjoe Key.”

  Dan laughed. “Sorry, I know that’s not funny, but it is kind of.”

  “Yeah, they were real comedians. They wrote “Kick me” on my forehead before they left.”

  He laughed again. “Sorry, but shit, Cam, how do you get into these situations all the time?”

  “Don’t ask me. Trouble seems to find me everywhere I go.”

  “Well, what are you here for now. Just a visit or are you trying to find out who wrote on you,” Dan said and couldn’t resist another laugh.

  “I’ll save the best part of that story for the card game. If I told you all of it, you’d be useless to me now.”

  “Can’t wait,” he said.

  “I’m looking for Jack. I haven’t seen him since I got out of the hospital. Last we talked, he was coming down here to talk to you. Did he ever show up? It would have been four days ago.”

  “Yeah, he was here. He was asking me about that forty-two-foot Sea Ray docked in B18. Said he thought it was stolen.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I told him the guy pulled it in and asked me to watch it for him for a couple of days. Gave me five hundred dollars and I never saw him again.”

  “What did Jack do then?”

  “He said he was going to go over to the Schooner bar and wait for someone to show up. He had his camera with him and was going to get some pictures of the guy.”

  “Did the guy show up?”

  “Not while I was here, but the next morning, the boat was gone and so was Jack. I figured he got what he wanted and went home.”

  “That was the same boat I was looking at when I got clobbered.”

  “So, you think it was stolen?”

  “Yeah, I think it was stolen, or maybe repossessed and fake stolen from Marathon. It belonged to a Gary Bartley. He lost his house to the bank, and he has disappeared too.”

  “Man, there’s a lot going on with that boat,” Dan said, thoughtfully.

  “Yep, but right now I just want to find Jack. Let me know if you hear anything.”

  “I will. Good luck.”

  I left the dock house and went over to the Schooner. Dave Richards was bartending and not overly busy at the time.

  “Hey, Dave, how’s it hanging?” I said, regressing every time I spoke with him.

  He was a good ol’ boy from Indiana. He’d moved here when he was eighteen and had now lived here for forty years, contributing to the Key West residents’ reputation for being quirky.

  “To the left,” he replied, sticking his hand out for me to shake. Just as I went for it, he pulled it back. “Whoa, man, you’re losing your speed there, brother,” he slanged with a big smile. “Sorry,” he said and stuck his hand out once more.

  I reached for it again, but he pulled it away at the last moment. “Man, you’re slow,” he said.

  “Enough, dude. I need some info from you,” I said in a voice I hadn’t heard since the last time I’d had a few beers with Dave.

  “Whasup?”

  “Was Jack in here about four days ago, watching the docks?”

  “Yeah, he was. Takein’ pictures with that big-ass camera he’s always braggin’ about.”

  “Was he okay when he left?”

  “Better than okay I’d say. A beautiful young lady came to his table and sat down. They had a few drinks and left together. Out there,” he said, pointing to the docks, “She had a big-ass boat. They got on it and left.”

  “Were they alone?”

  “Think so. She went to the restroom once, and Jack came to the bar and gave me a chip from his camera, to keep for him. Said he’d get it later.”

  “Do you still have it?”

  “Yep.”

  Chapter 21

  Ronnie called Jenny. “Hey sweetheart, I’ve got a job for you to do tonight. Juba wants you and me to take a little boat ride.”

  “Does it have to be tonight?” Jenny said, thinking about her date with Cam.

  “Yep. We’re using your boat,” Ronnie said with finality.

  “When and where?”

  “Be at Juba’s dock at ten.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Thank god he said we were using my boat, Jenny thought. I was wondering how I was going to get around to that.

  ~*~

  I slid the chip into my computer and hit the keys. The pictures came up. The first was the boat sitting at the dock. The next showed a man stepping onto it. Its angle wasn’t right to be able to tell who he was. The next one did show the man’s face. It was Ronnie Pierce. He was a dock worker who’d been around for as long as I can remember. The next picture was of another man standing at the boat, talking to Ronnie. I had never seen him before but he was definitely Middle-Eastern. Iraqi was my guess. Then there were three more pictures of him walking back toward Jack’s location. In the last of the three, the man was looking right at Jack as he snapped the shutter. I enlarged that one and printed it off. The next few pictures he took didn’t make any sense to me. I studied them for a while. They were just views of the docks, full of tourists, but then I saw something in one of them that sent a chill down my spine. It was Jenny in the crowd, walking toward him and smiling. I printed that picture too and put them both in my folder. I would return to Schooners when I had time and show Dave the pictures. I hoped Jenny wasn’t the girl Jack left with.

  ~*~

  John Tripper took Susan Crane home. He explained that he needed Bill’s files for a case they’d been working on together when Bill disappeared.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t have those files any longer. Whoever attacked me took them,” she said.

  She didn’t trust John any further than she could throw him. She had told Bill not to get tangled up with him in the first place.

  They had very good business going on their own. They would find clients who were losing their boats or cars to the bank and, for half the insurance money, make sure the vehicles were never seen again. It was a win-win for both parties. Th
ey would then also collect from the buyers. They had made a small fortune before Bill got hooked up with John.

  Now there were more people involved, the big boss, whom she never did like, and a few Middle-Eastern guys, and if I’m not mistaken, people are getting killed, she thought.

  There are more clients nowadays, just as John promised, but only half the money.

  “Aren’t there any copies?” John asked.

  “No, unfortunately, there aren’t. Bill wanted to be able to destroy them quickly,” Susan lied. She had copied all of Bills files without him knowing. She loved Bill and knew he loved her too, but a woman needs insurance.

  “Okay, Susan, if you hear anything at all, call me. I’m very worried about Bill. He’s a good man. I hope they find him soon.”

  “Thank you, John,” Susan said as she rose to walk him to the door.

  He stopped there and turned to her. “I guess I don’t have to tell you not to talk to anyone about our, uh, arrangement.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I was here long before you came along, and I’ll be here long after you’re gone,” she said angrily, looking him in the eye.

  He leaned back from her a little like maybe he was a bit scared of her. It didn’t go unnoticed.

  “And don’t think I don’t know where the money is going,” she said.

  She had read the files before they were stolen. Things had taken a turn for the worst. She would never have agreed to let them in the business if she would have known.

  “Like I said, some things are better left unsaid,” he leveled at her in a threatening voice then left, leaving the door open.

  She slammed it shut.

  Chapter 22

  I got ready for my date with Jenny. Again, I pondered on what to wear. This time I chose khaki slacks and a long-sleeved white shirt. I stopped at the wine store and chose a Louis Roederer Cristal Brut 2005 Vintage. It set me back two hundred dollars. Expensive for my taste nowadays, but not at one time. It used to be one of my favorite vineyards.