They’d already been by Schooners. The bartender told them Lucky had the day off. The bar was busy and Ron didn’t seem too happy with the barback who was filling in.
“You see Lucky, tell him he better have his ass in here tomorrow morning.”
As they passed over the bridge to Stock Island, Skunk chanced a question. “This fella, Lucky, he ever say anything about, oh, I don’t know, Spanish treasure ships, gold, sliver, emeralds, stuff like that?”
“No. I told you already this is a long shot, a way long shot. In fact, it’s probably a stupid idea.”
Which seemed to be all Consuelo had to say. She did not look happy.
Just as they pulled into the trailer park something small and furry ran directly in front of the old convertible. Consuelo slammed on the brakes and the car slid several feet on the shell drive before coming to a complete stop.
“What the hell was that? Did I hit it?”
Taco Bob saw something run from under the car and go under a hibiscus planted in front of one of the trailers.
“You missed it, just barely.”
Slip saw it too. “I think it was a gerbil, or maybe a hamster.”
A woman came out of the office trailer in full shriek. “Oh, my God! You ran over Mister Snuffles!”
Skunk stood up in the backseat, pointing. “Nope, we missed him, ma’am. He ran under that bush over there.”
Everyone got out and joined the search. A couple of minutes later the woman and dog were reunited. She clutched the tiny dog to her ample chest. Both were trembling.
“Poor Mister Snuffles! He’s been just a mess since a big crazy man tried to drop kick him a little while ago!”
Skunk made some little cooing sounds and tried to pet the tiny dog. This caused the dog to start barking furiously, which alerted some of the other resident dogs, who joined in barking at Skunk.
Consuelo parked the car while Skunk ran down the shell drive with several dogs in hot pursuit. Mister Snuffles squirted free and joined the chase with his owner screaming and running after him.
Consuelo looked around before knocking. “His car is gone.”
While Taco Bob wondered how she knew what kind of car he had, Consuelo carefully reached under the trailer and came up with a key and a look for Taco Bob that said for him not to bother asking. She stepped inside and motioned for her companions to follow. “Okay, like I said, this is a stupid idea. There’s no way this guy is involved in anything like the museum heist, but knowing you two,” she set her gaze on Slip, “you’ll never let it rest unless we take a look. So let’s make it quick.”
Slip went to the kitchen and started opening cabinet doors. Consuelo started in the living room. She saw Slip with a bag of peanuts.
“Slip, be sure to put everything back exactly the way you found it. And for shit’s sake, try not to eat anything!”
Slip waited until she turned around before sticking his tongue out at Consuelo and dropping a handful of peanuts in his pocket.
Taco Bob started with the bathroom. By the time he got to the bedroom Consuelo had a laptop on the couch and was powering it up.
Slip came into the bedroom and checked the bed while Taco Bob went through the dresser. As he pulled open the bottom drawer he heard something catch and tear. Sitting on the floor, he pushed the drawer back in a little and carefully stuck his hand inside. There were papers taped underneath.
“Slip, I think I’ve got something.”
That brought Consuelo too. Taco Bob slowly pulled the tape off and pulled out the papers. He couldn’t believe what he saw.
♦
They kept the one picture with a torn corner and finished putting everything in the trailer back like it was as soon as the initial shock wore off. The stunned trio piled into the car and pulled up next to a dumpster down the street where Skunk had taken refuge from the dogs. He jumped into the backseat and they sped off.
“Ya’ll find anything interesting?”
Taco Bob was driving. He’d never seen Consuelo at a loss for words before, but she hadn’t said one since seeing the picture. She seemed to be in shock and just sat up front staring straight ahead. Before answering his question, Slip tapped Skunk on the shoulder and shook his head to let him know to take it easy.
“You might say things have taken a turn. We’re going to head back over to Taco Bob’s and see if we can figure out what’s going on.”
As usual Skunk was oblivious to any kind of warning, even when it involved his personal well-being. He craned his neck to look over the seat to see the picture Consuelo was holding.
“Hot damn! Nice boobies! Where – ”
Consuelo exploded out of the front seat as Skunk pulled his neck back like a turtle. Taco Bob hit the brakes and managed to grab the picture as Consuelo went fists first into the back seat. He pulled over and helped Slip pull the speed-punching young woman off of Skunk.
“Damn it, Consuelo!”
She stopped and looked at Taco Bob, then crawled back into the front seat. Slip was pissed. “Shit, Consuelo, I think you killed him.”
She hung her head. “No, probably just got so scared he passed out. I didn’t hit him hard. I’m sorry.” She picked the picture up off the floor and went back to staring at it. “I just can’t believe it.”
Taco Bob determined that Skunk was indeed still alive before he got back in the car and pulled onto the road. He knew Consuelo was in incredible shape from all the exercising she did, and Slip had alluded to her knowing martial arts of some kind, but he’d never seen anyone move that fast before, especially that ferociously. What he’d just seen scared the hell out of him, but also excited him in some primeval way as well.
“Slip, I’ll stop at the store up here and let you run in real quick. I think we could all use a beer or two while we sort this out.”
♦
Consuelo drank two of the beers before they got to the houseboat. Then two more before everyone got settled inside. Skunk had come around in the backseat when he heard the first can of beer open.
The picture sat on the coffee table. Skunk had an icepack on his swollen forehead and antiseptic on his dog bit ankle. Everyone sipped their beers and looked at the picture, then at Consuelo.
“Okay, so I spent the night with the guy, once, at the trailer. I’d never even talked to him before that.” She glanced at Taco Bob out of the corner of her eye. He was pretty sure he knew, but asked anyway.
“Was it the day we had that argument?”
Taco Bob saw the hurt in her eyes before Consuelo looked down at the floor. He could barely hear her.
“Yeah. I guess he put the cross on me and took those pictures while I was asleep.”
Everyone had pretty much figured all this out, but gave it some additional contemplation anyway, everyone except Skunk.
“So you didn’t know he had that Emerald Cross from the museum?”
The flush of anger that crossed Consuelo’s face caused Skunk to fall out of his chair.
“Uh, sorry. Stupid question. Anyone need a beer?” Skunk scurried off to the beer locker.
Consuelo sat shaking her head. “I never would have guessed in a million years that Lucky could have been involved with something like that. I feel like such an idiot.”
Slip gave her a light pat on the back.
“Buck up, Con. You didn’t have any way of knowing about that. But I’d say that picture damn sure is the capper. I wonder where our man Lucky is right now?”
∨ Key Lucky ∧
17
Mallory Square
Lucky flipped his cellphone closed and brought his bike to a scratchy stop on the sandy pavement just off Duval Street. It’d been a busy but productive day with just enough time left to go by his place for a really quick shower and to change clothes. Now it was time to relax and enjoy himself – he was really looking forward to this. He chained his bike to a lamppost outside the hotel and went inside.
“Hello, Josephine.” He got a tilted head and a raised eyebrow, then
a full smile. “Is Lydia around?”
Josephine lifted a hand and snapped her fingers once loudly. Lydia glided into the room from the kitchen. She was decked out in full Key West formal fashion – pleated shorts, flowery short-sleeve top, and sandals. She looked great.
“Hey, Lucky. Ready to go?”
“Well, it’s still early, I thought maybe we could walk Mallory Square, see the sights. I usually don’t get off work early enough to watch the sunset over the heads of a few hundred tourists.” That got a smile. “Anyway, if that sounds good I’ve got a taxi coming, should be here any minute.”
“That sounds fine. Like to have a seat while we wait?” Lydia eased onto one of the couches in the lobby not far from the front desk. Lucky had a seat across from her. He noticed Josephine once again seemed to be having a whispered conversation with her outstanding chest. He kept his voice down.
“Your sister doesn’t say much, does she?”
Lydia had the calmest eyes. From what he’d seen of her sisters, he guessed she probably needed a lot of patience.
“No, Josey stutters, so she doesn’t talk a lot. Which I guess I should be thankful for, considering how easily she gets excited.”
They glanced over and saw Josephine typing furiously on a laptop with one hand while casually giving them the finger with her other hand.
“She can hear just fine though, and is a real motor mouth on internet discussion forums.” Now both hands were a blur as Josephine typed happily away.
“Lucky, Josephine told me a man - ”
A loud horn out front had them both on their feet.
“Our carriage awaits, My Lady.”
♦
The cast is ever changing, but for those looking for a tropical carnival atmosphere, Mallory Square rarely disappoints. Everyday, an hour before sunset, musicians and actors, artists and performers, as well as vendors and hawkers push, pull, and drag their wares and props to the open square. It’s Showtime in the evening air with often-breathtaking sunsets across the open water the main attraction.
A beautiful wooden sailboat that looked like a postcard glided by not more than a hundred feet from where Lydia and Lucky stood on the edge of the old Mallory wharf. They looked away from the man juggling cats and watched the sleek ship silently pass.
“Have you ever been on a sailboat?”
“No, I’ve been out in skiffs a few times with my sisters, but never on a sailboat. I think I’d like to, though. How about you?”
Lucky smiled and shook his head, still watching the stately old boat. “Me neither. But it’s on the list.”
“Sailboats are such a corny romantic concept, but I’d still like to go sailing someday.”
The juggler finished up his act to a hearty round of applause and a fair sprinkling of tourists dollars found their way into his plastic pail. Lucky dropped a few coins in as well before joining Lydia to watch an acrobat and the sunset. A tall, rail-thin man with haunted eyes wandered through the crowd mumbling things that didn’t make any sense.
“It’s quite peculiar inna funny sort of way, they think it’s very funny everything I say!”
“Get a load of him, he’s so insane.” A lady wearing a Pirate Jim’s t-shirt pointed at the man with the graying, scraggly beard.
“My sister Josephine told me they call that man The Seer. She says he comes from the times of the wreckers, when salvaging wrecked ships made Key West one of the richest cities in the country.” Lucky gave her a puzzled look. “Yeah, that was like a hundred and fifty years ago. Keep in mind the poor dear also says there’s a little space alien named Ben between her boobs.” This further confirmed Lucky’s earlier assessment of Josephine’s mental state. It also made him wonder how much that sort of thing ran in the family.
The acrobat and sunset had both just given grand performances to a rousing ovation when the sailboat came back.
“Here’s your romantic sailboat again.”
This time three well-fed men in t-shirts and shorts were standing in a row on the bow. Just as Lydia looked, the three men turned in unison and dropped their pants for a triple moon of the crowd. Lucky thought Lydia might hurt herself she laughed so hard.
She finally caught her breath. “That was too funny! So much for romantic concepts.”
As they were leaving, Lucky noticed the cat juggler standing close to a streetlight looking intently at something from his pail.
♦
It was a pleasant evening for a walk. They strolled the brick streets of the oldest part of Key West making their way to the popular restaurant on Duval. There were discreet questions and honest answers from both. In a few leisurely blocks they’d covered years of personal history. Lydia offered her intense yet somewhat sheltered upbringing, and Lucky countered with his years in prison after a more-or-less normal youth.
By the time they got to the restaurant they were talking like old friends and ready to eat. A tall man leaving with a blue-haired woman on his arm quietly greeted Lydia.
“Taco Bob! This is Lucky. Lucky, this is a great friend of ours and his charming friend, Trish.” Lucky didn’t get it at first, but then realized this was the woman he’d heard about who spoke through a tiny doll she carried in her hand. Pleasantries were exchanged, then as they were leaving, Trish was saying something about silverware to the tall man and used her other hand to lift the doll’s dress. The doll didn’t have underwear. That left Lucky wondering, but not for long – he’d been working in a Key West bar for a while now, so he’d seen weird before.
They decided on the open-air patio and were collected by an effusive waiter who deposited them at a table with a bit of privacy, yet a clear view of the ever-flowing river of life that was Duval Street. The waiter bombarded them with the daily specials before taking their drink orders and floating off. Menus were carefully studied in silence.
Lucky closed his menu just as the waiter rematerialized at their table looking in Lydia’s direction for her order.
“We’ll both have the snapper.”
“Two snappers. Appetizer?”
Lydia gave him a questioning look across the table.
“Calamari?”
“Excellent, sir. I’ll be right back.”
Lydia’s smile was mischievous.
“Okay, Lydia, how did you know I’d decided on the snapper?”
“You read with your finger. The snapper was the last thing you looked at before closing the menu.”
Before Lucky could say anything, a tiny song, ‘Sara’ by Fleetwood Mac came from Lydia’s shorts. She took a glance at her cell before putting it back in her pocket.
“Just one of my sisters. Sara, actually. I’ll call her back later.”
The waiter breezed by, dropping off their calamari. The fastest service Lucky had ever seen in a restaurant. He was about to say so when Lydia’s phone went off again, sounded like the theme to the Addams Family this time.
“That would be Josephine. I swear, I don’t know what those girls would do without me. I’m sure whatever it is, it can wait.”
They both helped themselves to the plate of appetizers.
“Lucky, that reminds me. Josephine told me a man came to the hotel with – ”
The phone again, the theme to Rocky.
Lucky smiled. “I would guess Consuelo.”
This time Lydia turned the phone off before putting it away.
“Lucky, this guy, he had a picture that Josephine said looked like you, except with a beard. The guy said he was FBI.”
“Oh? What did he look like?”
Lucky nibbled on fried squid while he heard an amazingly accurate description of the man he’d seen earlier at Mallory. He hadn’t given the man much thought until the same guy walked by on the sidewalk just a few minutes ago. You don’t see that many big guys wearing sunglasses and a suit in Key West after dark.
∨ Key Lucky ∧
18
Caution
Lucky walked with Lydia back to the hotel after dinner. The food was grea
t but the man in the suit had him unnerved. He told her the truth – he had no idea who the man was. Lydia seemed to understand and didn’t press him on it. In spite of his distracted demeanor, Lydia remained vibrant yet reserved, she didn’t try to show off with any magic tricks, but she did have amazing hands, which often fluttered when she got excited.
“Do you want to come in?”
“No, I better be going. I’ve got work in the morning.”
A nice hug, promises to do it again soon, and he was gone. A lot to think about while he rode his bike home.
Not just the big guy in the suit, but the way the man Taco Bob looked at him when he heard his name. And as long as he was wading in a sea of paranoia, might as well splash around in the way his trailer looked. He’d been in a big hurry when he showered and changed clothes earlier. But the more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that someone had been there. Too many things were not quite right.
He seriously doubted the guy was FBI. If the cops suspected him they’d just grab him, not have one man who stuck out like that following him. Lucky didn’t like to think about this guy going through his trailer. As soon as he got there he’d check the laptop and the pictures under the dresser drawer.
But first he needed to make sure he wasn’t being followed.
∨ Key Lucky ∧
19
Trouble
From the look on his face when she mentioned the big, weird FBI guy, Lydia knew Lucky was in trouble. Which wasn’t really any kind of big surprise, since she had a pretty solid record of dating the wrong guys.
But this one was different – definitely a nice guy. But also definitely in some kind of trouble.
Still, it was a very enjoyable evening. She’d been out a few times with the guy who lived across the street. Also a very nice guy, but unfortunately, also very gay. It did creep her out a little that Lucky had spent a night with her sister, but at least she felt quite certain any man who’d been with Consuelo qualified as straight.
Key Lucky Page 7