3 Mango Bay

by Bill Myers

  “Tell my mom I'm not going to yoga this morning. I just remembered I have something else I need to take care of.”

  Without waiting for a response, she drove off.

  A moment later, Polly came out of her Airstream carrying her yoga mat. Looking around and not seeing Lucy, she asked, “Where's Lucy? And why aren't you dressed for yoga?”

  I shook my head. “Lucy left. And it's my fault.”

  I pointed behind me. “There's a half naked woman in there and I need your help to sort things out.”

  “You've got a woman in there? Are you saying after your date with my daughter last night, you went out and picked up another woman and brought her home?”

  Before I could answer, Polly slapped me hard on my cheek. And it stung.

  Rubbing my face, I said, “Wait. It's not like that. A friend had a medical emergency last night and called me to help.

  “She was too sick to leave alone. So I brought her here. But nothing happened. Come over and ask her yourself.”

  Polly looked at me. “I think I'll do just that. And it if isn't like you said, I'm going to kick your butt.”

  She went into to my motorhome, while I stood outside trying to rub the sting out of my face.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  I half expected Polly to come out after me with the baseball bat I had left by the door.

  But that didn't happen.

  Instead, after about ten minutes, Polly stuck her head out the door and said, “Walker, don't you have any normal food in this place? Coffee, eggs, bacon? All I can find is grape juice and cereal.”

  I smiled, “So you're not mad at me?”

  “No, I'm not mad at you. Just wondering why you don't have any food in here. Come on inside, you're off the hook”

  I made my way inside, and Polly filled me in. “Anna told me what happened. Sounds like she was drugged. Somebody probably put roofies in her drink.

  “It's a good thing she only took a few sips, else she would have really been out of it. No way she could have made it home by herself. As it is, it'll take a few hours, some food and lots of fluids to get it all out of her system. We saw a lot of this in Tampa.”

  I interrupted her. “Roofies?”

  “Yes, the date rape drug. Someone probably dosed her drink. If you hadn't rescued her, she would have been easy pickings.”

  I looked at Anna. Her hair was a mess, she had bags under her eyes, her make-up smeared. But she had a slight smile on her face.

  “Walker, you saved me. It would have been bad if you hadn't come got me.”

  Then shaking her head, “I'm so sorry about getting you in trouble with Lucy.”

  Polly patted Anna's hand. “Don't you worry about Lucy. I'll call and explain it. Walker will come out looking good.”

  Then she added, “But Walker, if this happens again, if Lucy finds another naked woman in your motorhome, you're going to be on your own.

  “Anna and I are going over to my place. I'm going to fix her breakfast and get her into some clean clothes. While we're gone, you might want to clean this place up. And add coffee, bacon and eggs to your grocery list.”

  As they were heading for the door, I said, “Wait a minute. What about the guy who drugged Anna? He shouldn't get away with this. I want to go see him. Have a talk with him. Man to man.”

  Anna shook her head. “My date last night was kicked out of the club long before my drink was doctored. I don't think he had anything to do with this. He's a world class jerk, but I think he's in the clear.”

  I nodded. “If he didn't do it, who did?”

  Anna shook her head. “Probably someone who saw my date getting kicked out. They figured I'd be alone and need a ride, so they targeted me. But I don't know who it was.”

  I thought about what she had said. It did make sense. “Maybe they have surveillance cameras in the club. Maybe they'll have it on video.”

  Polly was standing at the door, waiting to take Anna to her trailer. “Walker, if you want to go down to the club and see if they have video, fine. Do that. But don't get the police involved. You don't want Anna's name on a police report. No good can come out of that.”

  Anna nodded. “I agree. I don't want the police involved. I don't want my name in the paper. I don't want anyone to know about this.”

  “Okay, no police. But I am going to talk to the manager of the Raft. See what he has to say.”

  “Walker, you do that. But right now, I'm going next door with Polly so I can clean up. After that, you can drive me to my condo so I can get my car.”

  She gave me a hug, and went out the door with Polly.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

  An hour later, Anna appeared at my door. She was freshly showered, wearing clean clothes. Her hair had a scent of strawberries. With a smile on her face, she looked and smelled a whole lot better than she had just a few hours earlier.

  She noticed me looking at her. “Yes, I know. I look pretty. Now quit staring. Take me to my condo so I can get my car and go to work.”

  “Yes ma'am. Your wish is my command.”

  I grabbed my keys and wallet and we went outside. After locking the motorhome, I walked over to the Jeep. The outside of the passenger door was streaked with vomit.

  Pointing at the mess, Anna said, “You need to get this cleaned off or I'm not going to ride with you.”

  I thought she was kidding. But she went back to the motorhome and sat down on the front steps. Waiting for me to clean the dried vomit off the door.

  Normally, I would have said, “You made the mess, you clean it up.”

  But Anna had already had a rough night and there was no need for me to make it worse.

  I had a water hose in one of the motorhome's outside storage compartments. I'd been using it to wash off road grime after each trip, and the high powered spray head would make short work of the mess on the Jeep.

  As I went about the process of hooking up the hose and washing down the Jeep, Anna watched without saying anything.

  When the job was done, I put the hose back in the storage compartment, locked it up, and came back to the Jeep.

  Anna was standing near the passenger door, smiling. “Come here,” she said.

  Walking over to her, I expected to hear her tell me I had missed a spot. But instead, she leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. “Walker, I'm so sorry about the trouble I caused last night. Can you forgive me?”

  I gave her a hug. “Anna, there's nothing to forgive. You did the right thing by calling me.”

  She smiled, got into the Jeep, fastened her seat belt, and said, “I'm waiting.”

  Shaking my head and laughing, I walked to the driver side, got in and we headed over to her condo on Manasota Key.

  “What about work? Aren't you worried about coming in late?”

  Anna shook her head. “I called and told them I was out showing you property. Said I'd be in around noon. They like it when I show property. My boss said as long as I continue to bring in new listings and sell a few houses every month, I can come and go as I like.

  “In fact . . .,”

  Anna was interrupted by an incoming call on her phone. She picked it up, looked at the caller ID, and rejected the call.

  “Can you believe that? That asshole from last night. He's called six times so far this morning. Left messages saying he's sorry.

  “Before I'm done with him, he's going to know the real meaning of 'sorry'. I'm going to let all the women in the office know how he got drunk and thrown out of the bar.

  “It won't be long before he won't be able to get a date with any woman in this town.”

  I smiled, knowing that being on the wrong side of Anna was going to put this guy in a world of hurt.

  Two months ago, Anna was living in her small camper trailer parked next to my motorhome in the old boat yard. It had been fun for a while, but she soon realized that living in a small fourteen foot trailer while trying to build a career in real estate wasn't practical.

  She needed more
space. A place with a large closet, a real kitchen, and a real bathroom. As it turned out, it didn't take her long to find a great place to move into.

  One of her real estate clients had purchased several beach front condos on Manasota Key as a long term investment. When he learned that Anna was looking for a place to rent, he offered her one of his condos at below market rates.

  That meant Anna was able to afford a two bedroom luxury unit overlooking the gulf, in an almost new building, with all the amenities one would expect, including a pool, exercise room and tennis court.

  Having been to Manasota Key several times, I knew exactly where Anna's condo building was. A four story, white block building, half a mile past the public beach.

  But even though I knew where the building was, I'd never been inside Anna's condo. She had invited me several times, but I'd never taken her up on it.

  As I pulled into the parking lot, Anna pointed. “Over there. The parking spot with thirty three on it. That's mine.”

  I pulled up behind her Land Cruiser which was already parked in the spot and killed the Jeep's motor. I started to get out, but Anna stopped me.

  “Walker, some day soon you need to come see the view from my balcony. We'll watch the sun go down, have a few drinks and tell each other stories.

  “But not today. Today I need to rest.”

  She opened her door and walked around to my side of the Jeep. “Call me later. Let me know how things work out with Lucy.”

  Before I could reply, she turned and walked to the front entrance of her condo. I watched to make sure she was going to get in safely and in doing so, I noticed that I'd come to appreciate the way she moved when she walked.

  When she reached the door, she turned and waved at me, then went inside.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

  It was still early in the day. Too early for the Raft to be open. But the manager might be there. I wanted to talk to him to see if they had any video from the night before.

  These days, a lot of bars have video cameras that record everything that goes on inside. They use these recordings to make sure employees aren't stealing and guests aren't faking injuries. The videos can come in real handy if needed as evidence in lawsuits.

  Unfortunately, these surveillance videos are often low resolution and poorly focused. But not always. Some places have newer cameras which produce high quality video, making it easy to see who may have dosed a patron's drink.

  That was what I was hoping to find at the Raft – high quality video from surveillance cameras showing what had happened to Anna last night.

  Englewood didn't have many night clubs. The few they do have are located on Dearborn Street, in a section of town known as Old Englewood Village.

  This part of town was established more than a hundred years ago when Englewood was a small fishing village. Back then, there were no major cities nearby, no tourist attractions in Florida, no reason to visit Englewood and no easy way to get here except on horseback or by boat.

  These days, things have changed. The federal government dug the intracoastal waterway through Englewood, which brought more boat traffic, more businesses and more residents.

  Paved roads from Venice and Fort Myers made it easier to get to Englewood, which brought more people, and along with them new hospitals, schools, and shopping centers.

  But even with all the modern improvements, Old Englewood Village and Dearborn Street remained virtually unchanged. Many of the old wood frame buildings built to service the fishing fleet still stood, but most have been converted into restaurants and art galleries, catering to the wealthy clientele from Manasota Key, Venice, and Boca Grand.

  A few of the older buildings have been converted into drinking establishments like Rusty's Raft. These aren't what you would call 'gentleman's bars', where well dressed men sit around sipping martinis while talking about polo ponies.

  These are instead, the places blue collar workers go to have a drink, dance, and maybe get lucky.

  Like most of Englewood, these places aren't dangerous and aren't exclusively blue collar. Everyone is welcome, and most come just to have a good time.

  Today, when I arrive at the Raft, there are only four cars in the parking lot. Probably belonging to the cleaning staff.

  I backed into an open slot far away from the other cars, a habit I picked up years ago. Backing in makes for a quick exit when required.

  After locking the Jeep, I headed across the parking lot to the main entrance. A sign on the two massive wooden doors said 'closed'.

  Pushing on one of the doors, I wasn't surprised to find it unlocked. Even though the place was closed, the doors would be unlocked for the cleaning staff as well as for the delivery trucks restocking the bar.

  When I walked in, I saw an older lady with a spray bottle in one hand and a cleaning cloth in the other, wiping down a table near the door. She saw me, but said nothing.

  On my left, a man with an apron around his waist holding a clip board, stood behind the main bar counting bottles. Seeing me, he just nodded, and returned to work.

  Looking around the room, I saw that beyond the rows of tables, there was an elevated stage for the band, with a small dance floor in front.

  To the right of the stage, a hallway led to the restrooms, the supply areas, and the manager's office.

  That's where I headed.

  I made my way through the tables, across the dance floor and down the hallway. No one bothered to ask me who I was or why I was there. Everyone was working, minding their own business.

  After passing the rest rooms, I continued down the hallway until I reached a closed door with a small sign on it that said 'Manager'.

  Inside the manager's office I could hear two people arguing. One was saying, “I told you he was trouble. Now we've got to deal with it.”

  The other voice said, “We don't know for sure. We haven't heard his side of the story.”

  Then, “I don't want to talk about it. Get out, go do your job.”

  The door opened, and a short red faced man hurried out. He looked at me quizzically, shook his head and walked away.

  From inside the office, a man's voice asked, “Who are you and what do you want?”

  Stepping into the room, I introduced myself. “John Walker. Here to talk about security video from last night.”

  The man in the room looked to be in his mid fifties, maybe six feet tall, with thin graying hair. “You a cop?”

  “No, I'm not. I'm checking on something that happened here last night. A girl was drugged. I'm trying to find out who did it.”

  “Roofies?”

  “Yeah. How'd you know?”

  “Sheriff's detectives came in this morning. Said a woman filed a complaint. Said someone drugged her drink. That the girl you asking about?”

  “No. The girl I'm working with didn't go to the police. She wants me to find out who did it. Thought maybe you'd have videos.”

  The man shook his head. “You're too late. The detective that came in this morning had a warrant. He took all the videos from last night.

  “Even if I still had the videos, there's no way I could let you see them. My lawyers would be all over me. Invasion of privacy or something like that.”

  The man picked up his coffee cup and took a sip. “You say she was drugged in here last night?”

  “Yes, sometime around midnight. She was drinking ginger ale. She left her table to make a call. When she came back, she took a few sips and became ill.

  “Someone put roofies in her drink. I'm here to find out who.”

  The man behind the desk shook his head, then said, “We need to talk. Close the door. Have a seat.”

  I closed the door and sat in the chair in front of his desk.

  “Mr. Walker, what I tell you next is off the record. If you tell anyone I told you this, I'll deny it. Is that understood?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Because I don't want you to do something stupid. I don't want you to get caught up in something that's al
ready been taken care of.

  “Last night, someone in our club made a mistake. A big one. One of our bouncers saw it happen.

  “This guy came in late, alone. Acting strange. Not drunk, but like he might be up to something.

  “Our bouncers are trained to look for weirdos, and this guy fit the profile. So we were watching him as he stood off to the side.”

  “Four ladies left their table to go to the bathroom and this guy walks over and waves his hand over their drinks. Then walks away.

  “The ladies didn't come back, and one of our runners cleared the glasses from the table.

  “Our bouncer didn't take any action, but he continued to watch the guy. And sure enough, as soon as another woman left her table, the guy did it again. He squirted something into the woman's drink.

  “Our guy saw it happen, grabbed the guy and escorted him back here where I detained him.

  “Our guy then went back up front and had a runner clear the drinks from the table. But in all the commotion, he may have missed your friend's drink.

  “We sincerely regret this. I've got daughters and if something like this happened to them, I'd be down here with a gun and somebody would get shot. So I can understand if you're upset.

  “But the guy who did this isn't going to get away with it. After we detained him, we called the sheriff and they sent someone down here.

  “When the detective interviewed the guy, he denied putting anything in anyone's drinks. But when they searched him they found three vials of roofies. Enough to hold the guy in jail overnight.

  “This morning the sheriff's department came and watched the videos from last night. They saw the guy squirt something into the drinks. That along with the roofies was enough to keep him in jail for a long time.”

  “So if you're looking for the guy who dosed your friend, he's already in jail. And he won't be out for a while.”

  I nodded. “What's his name?”

  “I can't tell you. In fact, I've already told you more than I should. But know this, if he gets out of jail and ever steps foot in here again, he's in for a long boat ride out into the gulf without a return ticket.”