Cam Derringer Box Set

by Mac Fortner

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are a work of fiction or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  DEDICATION

  Thanks to my wife Cindy, who supports me from beginning to end, and to Stacy and Ryan, our adult children, for being fans. It's always good to have someone to write for.

  BOOKS BY

  MAC FORTNER:

  Cam Derringer series:

  KNEE DEEP

  BLOODSHOT

  KEY WEST: TWO BIRDS ONE STONE

  MURDER FEST KEY WEST

  Sunny Ray series:

  RUM CITY BAR

  BATTLE FOR RUMORA

  .

  Table Of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Epilogue

  About Mac Fortner

  FREE NOVELLA-PREQUEL TO THE CAM DERRINGER SERIES

  JUST CLICK THIS LINK TO GET YOUR FREE BOOK AND ENJOY!

  .

  Key West: Two Birds One Stone

  Prologue

  Tracy slid the heavy bag off her shoulder and eased it onto the metal floor of the cruise liner. She was in the maintenance room directly below the display room. She could hear the band in the lounge down the hall playing music from the sixties. I want to hold your hand. She paused for a moment. She loved the Beatles. The music coming from the lounge was loud enough to drown out any noise she might make. Carefully she removed the drill and extension cord from the bag and found her receptacle. She started drilling holes in a five-foot circle where she had marked them in the ceiling. The music stopped, she paused. When the music was playing again she continued. The plastic explosives were carefully packed in her bag and ready to be placed in the holes. One more hour and the gem collection would be hers. But they weren’t her real prize. Her real reward was Cam Derringer. She would use the jewels to gain her revenge.

  For four months she had wanted to kill Cam, but this would be even better.

  ~***~

  “They’re magnificent,” Aaron Kingston said.

  “Yes, they are. They’re from the collection of Harold Chesterfield. He loaned them to The Museum of Jewellery Quarter, Birmingham, England to display here on our cruise ship for a short tour. They will be returned to him in two weeks. It is one of the most stunning gem collections in the world,” Trent Jackson, the ship's purser, said loud enough for the visitors to hear.

  “You are welcome to look but don’t touch the glass. It’s electrified for security. So please keep behind the yellow line on the floor,” he said and stepped aside for everyone to get a better look.

  A range of Oohs and Ahhs could be heard among the crowd of guests assembled in the special viewing room. The necklaces and rings shone their reds and greens. They were neatly displayed in a circle to be viewed from any point of the display. But the most stunning of all was the Two-hundred-three carat diamond in the center. Estimated to be worth around seventeen million. Aaron wiped away a drop of drool from the corner of his mouth when he saw it. He knew the diamond well, had held it in his hand. Now the prospect that he might own the real one, not this one, was too much to bear.

  The room had every bit of new tech security available to ensure the safety of the collection. A four-man security team stood at the door and the perimeters of the room.

  Aaron Kingston nonchalantly took in the cameras and the laser points of the room. It would be a difficult feat to steal the gems from under the noses of the guards while at the same time dodging the security system. Not impossible, but difficult. He already had the blueprint of the room and security. The design of the vault area three decks below and the route of transportation to the vault were also shown on the print. He also knew he wasn’t the only one on board who was interested in acquiring the collection. She would take the jewels before the ship was at port in Key West.

  “Are these the real gems or just imitations for display?” Aaron asked feigning naivety.

  “These are the real thing,” Trent said. “So take a good look. You’ll never have the opportunity to behold such a collection again.”

  The crowd pushed a little closer and strained to see around one another.

  Suddenly the room began to vibrate violently. A woman in the rear of the room screamed. Heads turned to see what happened to her. At that moment she fainted and fell to the floor. The room turned to total chaos. The shaking was growing in intensity. It was becoming difficult for anyone to maintain their balance, some falling to the floor.

  The lights blinked intensely as if the room was a dance floor from the seventies. Sparks flew from the massive chandelier overhead.

  Then from what seemed to be below the floor, an enormous cracking sound erupted. The glass display booth shook and then just disappeared. A gaping hole in the floor was all that remained.

  Sirens began blowing their insane wailing to alert the security team. Two of the guards were lying on the floor, and the other two were doing their best to keep their feet. No one could comprehend the magnitude of what had just happened.

  One floor down eager hands swept the Gems into a metal watertight carrying case. Then into a net bag tied around the waist. Running from the lower room to the corridor Tracy paused only briefly at the rail. She removed her utility belt and dropped it into the water below. She counted, one..two..three..the belt hit the water on four. Tracy jumped and counted again. On two she took a deep breath and plunged into the dark sea below.

  ~***~

  The small two-man submarine sat askew on the beach. Smoke was still present in the cockpit. The charred remains of the vessel took Sheriff Toby Reynolds a few minutes to comprehend.

  He received the call from a local who was walking his dog early this morning and saw the smoke. He had said, “I think an alien ship crashed on our beach.”

  Toby stepped closer to the sub and reached out with one chubby leg and touched it with his foot. He had to time the touch with the waves that were gently rocking the boat.

  “Yeah, it’s real,” he said to himself, “But I don’t think it’s an alien craft.”

  He looked around to see if anyone had seen him talking to himself. He was in the clear.

  He had to be careful to not stir up any undue attention to himself. He was already on the ropes for his stature. He was six-feet-two-inches tall and two hundre
d-fifty pounds. Maybe a little overweight, he thought, but a lot of its muscle. He had wide-set, dull eyes. He kept his eyes partially hidden behind his, too small, aviator sunglasses, allowing his eyes to show on both sides. His flat-top, which always seemed to be uneven, didn’t help any. He thought he was more or less a fine specimen for forty-eight years old.

  He took over the sheriff job by default a year ago when Sheriff Willie Buck lost his job. Sheriff Buck was a bad hombre. He was killed, due to in part, by Cam Derringer, a local PI, after what amounted to terrorism on the sheriff’s part. Cam also discovered that Buck had killed Cam’s wife, five years earlier.

  Toby bent down, as much as he could, and slapped the metal on the top of the submarine. It didn’t burn so he slapped it again a little slower. Still, no burn, so he gently laid his hand on the surface.

  “Yeaallll!”

  He jerked his hand back and shook it in the air.

  “Son of a bitch,” he said gritting his teeth.

  Toby walked around in circles holding his hand under his armpit. That’s when he noticed the footprints in the sand. He was stepping all over a crime scene. Someone else had walked here recently. It looked like someone wearing, maybe, water shoes.

  He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and groaned once more as he bent down to snap a picture of the footprints.

  He decided to snap a few pictures of the sub before he called it in and lost access to the scene.

  The instrument panel was scorched, and the remnants of a few gauges were now just melted plastic.

  Sheriff Reynolds switched his camera off and his phone on and called his office.

  “Sheriff’s department, Deputy Crane, may I help you.”

  “Yeah,” Toby said. “I’m at the beach on that alien spaceship call. I need you to send some kind of team down here to investigate this scene.”

  “Is there really an alien ship there?” Crane said jokingly.

  “No, you idiot. Just send a team.”

  “You mean like a CSI team?” Crane said, now a little more sarcastic.

  “Whoever,” Toby said. He knew he needed to study up a bit more on who does what, but he just can’t find the time.

  Deputy Crane smiled to himself. He’s only been on the job in Key West for a month, and he knows one thing for sure, “Toby is an idiot.”

  Toby sat on the front fender of his patrol car while he waited for the team. It was a muggy eighty-five degrees already. Sweat ran down his back. Why didn’t he take that position up north in Jacksonville? The temps only reached the uncomfortable zone in the summer. Here it was year round.

  Then his mind changed to his real problem. He owed some very unforgiving bookie forty-five-thousand dollars. There was no way he would ever be able to pay that debt.

  The team arrived a half hour later. Toby left them at the crime scene.

  He went to his car and retrieved a protein bar from the glove compartment, unwrapped it and took a bite. He spat it out the window and threw the rest into the back seat. Starting the car, he turned toward Betty’s Bakery for a better breakfast.

  Chapter 1

  I sat at my favorite Key West bar and watched her as she sauntered down the sidewalk toward me. She was a real beauty. She would make some lucky guy a great wife someday. Not me, but someone.

  Her long black hair, which she wore down today, my favorite style, swung back and forth slightly with the rhythm of her hips.

  She was wearing flip-flops, short shorts, and a faded Rum City Bar t-shirt.

  I saw a few men turn as she passed them, taking in her five-foot-six inch athletic body and her voluptuous breasts.

  “Hello Kailey,” I said as she approached my table.

  “Hey, Cam, ya been here long?” she asked flashing that million dollar smile at me.

  Or I should say that three-hundred-million dollar smile. That’s what its worth.

  “Just got here,” I said standing to pull out her chair. We kissed.

  She sat, and I waved at Tonya, our waitress, and friend. She brought us two Wild Turkeys on the rocks.

  “Did you buy anything outlandish today?” I said.

  She giggled, “You’re still making fun of me for buying that boat.”

  “Quite au contraire my dear. I’ve grown to love that boat,” I said.

  “Me too,” she said. “Especially the master bedroom. Come to think of it I also love the kitchen table and the living room floor and the fly-bridge and the sofa and the…..

  “Okay, okay, you don’t have to name everywhere we’ve made love.”

  “You’re right, we don’t have that much time,” she said and giggled again.

  I kind of inherited Kailey while working on a case in New York. Her real name is Elizabeth Kailey Wessel, but I still call her Kailey. She was married to a very wealthy and dangerous man, who she watched kill her father when she was only ten. She’s thirty now. She married him just to get close enough to have an assassin kill him, shooting me and some of my friends in the process. The assassin went by Bloodshot. I finally became victorious in the last battle with him, ending the carnage.

  Kailey fell in love with me. She has now planted herself in my home, or I guess I should say our home. It’s a yacht she purchased for me with part of the three-hundred-million she inherited.

  It looks like I’m stuck with her for a while, which isn’t such a bad thing. She is one of the best people I know and one of the loveliest girls I’ve ever had the pleasure to be with. The drawback is she is wanted by my other girlfriend, Robin, head of the FBI in LA. They still don’t know if she stole the money or inherited it and they can’t prove she hired the assassin.

  I know, but I’m not talking. She had a good reason, and she deserves the money.

  “Have you talked to Diane today?” I asked.

  “Yep, I left her on the boat a few minutes ago. She’s naked in the hot tub.”

  “Have you been teaching my daughter bad habits?”

  “She’s her own person,” she said. “No one will see her.”

  “Well, what if I would have walked in on her?”

  “I would have been there too. I could divert your eyes.”

  “Yes, you always could.”

  Diane is thirty-five years old. I inherited her too when her father, my partner was killed. She was only fourteen when my wife and I took her in. My wife was murdered six years ago. I love Diane as if she were my own.

  We sipped our drinks and watched the tourist file up and down Duval Street. It was always crowded in this part of town. My favorite time here is around sun-up while the tourists are still sleeping. It’s a quiet and tranquil place then. The conchs, which are what the locals are called, are out opening their stores and eating breakfast at the many smaller cafés. It’s the time we spend together telling stories.

  “Do you see that woman over there?” Kailey said, pointing at a lady in a blue dress with shoulder length, blond hair. She was leaning against the storefront across the street watching us.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “I saw her at the end of your dock earlier. She was looking at your boat.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yep. Want me to talk to her?” she said.

  “No,” I said, “Allow me.”

  I stood. The woman turned and hurried down the street.

  “I wonder what that was all about,” I said.

  “You don’t think she’s with the FBI do you?”

  “No, I doubt it. They don’t have any idea you’re with me, but she’s up to something.”

  “Maybe she came off the cruise ship that docked yesterday,” she said.

  “Could be. Did you hear what happened on the ship?” I said matter of factually.

  “No,” she said, interest in her voice.

  Kailey was always ready for a good story.

  “Twenty million dollars in jewels were heisted from the ships display room an hour before it docked.”

  “Really?” she said wide-eyed, leaning forward and plac
ing her elbows on the table.

  “Yep. They checked all the passengers before they debarked and found nothing. Now they're going through their rooms with a fine tooth comb.”

  “How’d they steal ‘em?”

  “They blew a hole in the floor right under the display and right in front of a tour and the security guards. By the time they reached the floor below, the thief was gone–with the gems.”

  “That’s cool. Why don’t you solve it for them? You’re the best private eye on the island.”

  “So you say, and I don’t want to.”

  “Why?”

  “To high profile. Remember you’re living with me. The FBI and all.”

  “Oh yeah,” she said sadly, “do you want me to leave?”

  “No, of course not. I doubt if I could solve it anyway. Whoever took those, is long gone by now.”

  We finished our drinks and headed back to our yacht. When we arrived at the gate, a man was standing on the dock peeking through the bars, trying to see our boat.

  I cleared my throat. He turned toward us startled.

  “May I help you?” I said.

  He looked to be about forty-five years old, tall but not as tall as my six-foot-five frame, well built. He was wearing tan slacks, the pleats ironed in, and a white long sleeve shirt. It was neatly pressed but supported damp rings under his arms. His straw hat looked a little worn and slightly small for his size.

  “Are you Cam Derringer?” he said.

  “Maybe. Who wants to know?”

  “My name is Sam Alexander. I would like to hire you to find my wife.”

  I assessed him for a moment. He looked worried.

  “How long has she been missing?” I said.

  “Since the cruise ship docked last night.”

  “The police won’t do anything for the at least twenty-four hours,” I said.

  “I know. That’s why I want to hire you.”

  I invited him to my office, which is located on my boat. Kailey excused herself and went to check on Diane.

  “When did you last see her?” I asked.

  “When we got off the ship. Security searched us both, and we came into town. We were at Mallory Square eating. I went to the restroom, and when I returned, she was gone.”