3 Mango Bay

by Bill Myers

  As I examined the photo, the phone chimed with an incoming call.

  I answered.

  “You get it?” A rough voice asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “So you ready to trade?”

  “Yeah, when and where?”

  “Nine tonight. At the hospital parking lot.”

  I paused. “Not tonight. Can't get the package until tomorrow morning.”

  “You can't get the package?”

  “No, I can't. It's in a storage building. They locked the gates an hour ago. Won't open again until eight tomorrow morning.”

  A pause on the other end, then, “Don't be playing games with me. You either deliver tomorrow or you lose the dog. And no cops.”

  “I understand. But if something happens to Oscar, you'll have hell to pay.”

  Silence on the other end. Then, “Be ready in the morning. I'll call at eight thirty.”

  The caller disconnected.

  CHAPTER FORTY ONE

  I'd gotten what I wanted. A photo of Oscar taken with the dognapper’s phone.

  After copying the photo to my laptop, I used Irfanview photo viewing software to open it. Then I clicked on the 'image information' tab.

  This opened a drop down window which showed when the photo was taken, it's resolution and file size. Just below that information was a link labeled 'EXIF Info'.

  Clicking that link produced the results I had hoped for. GPS coordinates showing where the photo had been taken. And just below the GPS coordinates, a button labeled 'show on Google maps'.

  I clicked the maps button, and my screen filled with a closeup map of Englewood, showing the exact location, with street address, where the photo was taken.

  Definitely my lucky day. The phone used by the kidnappers had geo-tagging turned on.

  I printed out the Google map, turned off the laptop, and headed next door.

  I'd been gone for fifteen minutes, long enough for Buck and Polly to clean up the worst of the mess and to order a pizza.

  We hadn't eaten since leaving for her houseboat earlier in the day, and I was starving.

  I grabbed a slice of pizza and handed the Google map printout to Polly.

  “What's this?”

  “That's star on the map is where Oscar was about ten minutes ago. I'm going to go see if he is still there.”

  Polly stood. “I'm going with you.”

  “No. You're not. And you're not staying here either. It's not safe. They might come back.”

  “So where do I go?”

  Buck spoke. “She can stay with me. In my bus.”

  I shook my head. “No, that won't work. We need to get her away from Serenity Cove. In case they know who she is.”

  Using Polly's phone, I called Lucy.

  She answered on the third ring. “Hey, Mom. What's up?”

  “Lucy, it's me, Walker. Buck and I have to go take care of something and we don't want to leave your mom here alone. Would it be okay if she hangs out with you for a bit?”

  “Sure, no problem. But why are you using her phone? Let me speak to her.”

  “She's busy right now. We'll be there in ten minutes.”

  I ended the call.

  Hanging up on a woman is never a good idea. I'd probably lose a few points in Lucy's book for doing that. But maybe when she heard the full story, she'd give me some slack.

  Buck and I got in the Jeep and Polly followed us in her minivan. As we headed out, Buck said, “Stop at my place. I need to get something. It'll just take a minute.”

  Polly was behind me, so she stopped when I pulled over in front of Buck's bus. We waited while he went in to do whatever he needed to do.

  Three minutes later, he came back out. He had changed clothes. Instead of the white shirt and pants he had worn out on the boat, he was now wearing black pants, black t-shirt, a black sports jacket and was carrying a pair of black leather gloves.

  “Wardrobe change?” I asked.

  “That's right. I figured if we're going to be sneaking around tonight, it might not be a good idea to be dressed in all white.”

  He was right.

  Seven minutes later, we were sitting in Lucy's driveway. She was waiting for us on her porch and walked toward my side of the Jeep as Polly climbed out of her minivan.

  “Walker, tell me what's going on.”

  Shaking my head, I said, “No time. Me and Buck have got to go take care of something. Polly will fill you in on the details.”

  I put the Jeep in gear and headed down Old Englewood Road toward Dearborn Street.

  “So,” asked Buck. “What's the plan?”

  I pointed to the map. “The house is on Pandora street. It's a cul-de-sac with a turn around at the end.

  “I figure we'll turn off our lights and cruise slowly by the house. If it looks safe, we'll stop a few houses down, walk back and see what we can do.”

  Buck nodded. “Sounds good. But don't get us boxed in. Park so we can make a quick getaway if we have to.”

  We stayed on River Road until we reached Pine street, where we turned right. Two miles down, we turned right again onto Pandora. I switched off the headlights and coasted to a stop.

  Houses on this street were small. Stacked cinder blocks with asphalt roofs. Nothing fancy. Most had carports with room for only one car. Extra cars parked in the driveway or on the street.

  The houses were close together, but only a few had lights on. Many looked vacant.

  According to Google Earth, the house we were looking for was about half way down the street on the left. I put the Jeep in gear, and with the lights still off, we cruised down the street looking for house numbers.

  “There it is. Sixteen Twenty Two.”

  As we cruised by, we saw there were no cars in either the carport or the driveway. No interior lights on. A 'for sale' sign in the yard suggested the home might be vacant.

  The only sign of life were two old bicycles in the carport.

  I looked at Buck. “What do you think?”

  “Looks empty to me. No lights, no cars, and a 'for sale' sign out front. You sure you got the right address?”

  “According to the GPS, this is it.”

  Buck nodded. “When we get to the end of the street, turn around and come back. Drive past the house and park two doors down.”

  With our lights still off, I did as he suggested.

  As we passed the house on our return, I cut the motor and coasted to the curb. We sat in silence taking in the sounds of the neighborhood. In the distance, we heard a solitary dog. One bark. Then nothing.

  There were no streetlights on Pandora, and the black Jeep was nearly invisible this time of night.

  Not wanting to draw any attention, I clicked off the switch for the interior overhead light so it wouldn't come on when I opened my door.

  After watching the house for five minutes, we hadn't seen anything that suggested anyone was inside. If there were people inside, they were in the back rooms, not visible through the living room window.

  I whispered, “I'm going to knock on the front door. See if anyone answers.”

  Buck reached inside his jacket and pulled out a large pistol.

  “What's that?”

  “357. Thought it might come in handy.”

  I shook my head. “No guns. We don't need that kind of trouble.”

  Buck laid the pistol in his lap. “We'll see.”

  Taking a deep breath, I slowly opened my door and quietly stepped out onto the street. I stood there for a moment, just waiting. For what, I didn't know. But it felt good to wait.

  I wasn't sure if there was anyone in the house, or whether they would be armed or how they would react when I knocked on the door.

  I wasn't in a big hurry to find out.

  But it had to be done.

  From the street, I walked to the yard of the neighboring home which also appeared to be vacant. From there I headed up the driveway of the house where Oscar's photo had been taken.

  From the driveway, I
could see that a blanket had been hung over the living room window, blocking my view into the home.

  In some neighborhoods, a blanket over a living room window might draw attention. But not here. Not on Pandora street.

  In this neighborhood, not all the residents would be spending money on curtains when a spare blanket or sheet over the window would work just as well.

  As I got closer to the front porch, I could see a flickering light behind the blanket. Candle light. From inside the house.

  If lights were on inside, even if it were only a candle, it meant someone was probably in the house. And possibly they had Oscar with them.

  So I was going in.

  I took a deep breath, and moved up the driveway with intentions to knock on the front door. My path took me closer to the blanket covered window.

  Just as I reached it, I saw shadows moving inside the house.

  It was possible the people inside had seen me and were now moving in my direction. Not wanting to be exposed, I ducked down below the window. Almost immediately, the front door burst open and two men ran past me.

  Neither seemed to have seen me, and both were intent on getting out of the house quickly. The first man jumped on one of the bicycles in the carport, and pedaled away.

  The second man hopped on the remaining bike, but was stopped at the street when Buck stepped in front of him holding the .357 pistol.

  “What's your hurry?” he asked.

  Seeing Buck with the gun, I stood, just in time to feel a searing heat as the house exploded behind me.

  CHAPTER FORTY TWO

  I was laying on the wet grass in front of the house, my face stinging from the blast. Behind me I could feel the warmth of a fire. My ears were ringing. Buck was kneeling over me, a stranger with a scraggly beard standing beside him.

  I could see Buck's mouth moving, but couldn't hear what he was saying. He was shouting. In my direction, up close, but all I could hear was a loud ringing in my ears.

  Finally, I understood. He was saying, “Get up. Cops are on the way. We've got to go.”

  My head hurt, my eyes stung and my ears were ringing. I didn't want to go anywhere. Laying here in the grass was fine with me.

  Buck grabbed my right arm and pulled me to my feet. The stranger grabbed my left, and together they dragged me to the Jeep.

  I was put in the back seat. The stranger got in on the passenger side, and Buck drove, lights out.

  At some point, Buck took a left onto Pine street and turned the Jeep's headlights back on. Soon after, a sheriff’s car with it's siren blasting, raced by.

  Moments later a firetruck and an ambulance followed. They were heading to the house we had just left.

  Up front, I could tell Buck and his passenger were having a heated conversation. I couldn't understand what they were saying but I could hear their voices. That was good. It meant my hearing was coming back.

  I leaned forward between the front seats and put my hand on Buck's shoulder to support myself. At my touch, Buck flinched.

  “Damn, Walker. You scared me. Thought you were dead back there.”

  “Not dead yet, but I hurt.”

  I rubbed my face and my hand came away black with soot. “What happened back there?”

  Buck pointed to the passenger. “Eddie here and his partner were cooking up a little meth. They got the mixture a little too hot. And it went boom.”

  Eddie grinned at me. “Same thing happened last time. Too much heat, and then 'boom'.”

  Eddie used his hands to emphasize the 'boom' part of his story.

  When he smiled, Eddie's face looked familiar. I'd seen him before. But I couldn't remember where. My head hurt too much to even try.

  Buck turned right on River Road, heading toward Dearborn street. At the first stoplight, he turned into the Publix parking lot, drove around back and pulled in between two large produce trucks.

  “Walker, do we need to take you to the hospital?”

  I shook my head. “No, I'm okay. But what about Oscar? Was he in the house?”

  Buck looked at Eddie. “Was there a dog in the house?”

  Eddie shook his head. “Nah, but there was a wiener dog in the van with Darrell. When he came by to check on us, he showed us the dog and then left. Took the dog with him.”

  Buck cut his eyes toward me, then back to Eddie. “Who's Darrell?”

  “Don't know his last name. We just call him Darrell. He's the one that hired Peanut to cook the meth. Darrell gave us the key to the house, brought the ingredients by and told us when he wanted the crystal done.”

  “So Darrell has the dog?”

  “Last time I saw him he did.”

  “Where's Darrell now?”

  Eddie ran his right hand through his thinning, slicked back hair. “Darrell don't tell me none of his business. And even if he did, he'd be right pissed off if I turned around and told you.”

  Buck laughed. “Eddie, you and Peanut just blew up Darrell's house. He might already be right pissed off.”

  Eddie shook his head. “It weren't Darrell's house. It belongs to the bank. Darrell found out it was empty and figured nobody would care if we used it for a few days.

  “Of course he might be upset we burned up all his meth fixins.”

  Buck nodded thoughtfully. “So Eddie, here's the deal. That wiener dog belongs to a nice widow woman, and we want to get the dog back for her.

  “And right now, you're the only person standing between us knowing and not knowing where that dog is.

  “Since Walker almost got himself blown up because of you, maybe you could tell us where to find the dog.”

  Eddie looked at me, then recognition flickered in his eyes.

  “I know you. You're the guy that saved my life! When I was riding my bike and that car hit me. It was you stopped and took care of me.”

  I smiled as I realized where I'd seen Eddie before. On the ground, the day Lucy and I were taking the Jeep for a test drive.

  I nodded. “Yes, Eddie, that was me. I saved your life. Now, do me a favor and tell me where we can find the wiener dog.”

  CHAPTER FORTY THREE

  “Walker, I owe you big time. I'd be dead if it wasn't for you stopping that day.

  “So I'll help you find the little dog. But maybe we could stop over to the Shell station and get us some beer first. My throat's a little parched from cooking the crystal. A cold beer would go down real good.”

  Buck looked at me. I sighed and then nodded. Might as well get some beer for our new partner in crime.

  It took us four minutes to get to the Shell station. The parking lot was nearly empty, so Buck pulled up near the front door. Removing the keys from the ignition, he turned to me and said, “You stay here with Eddie. I'll get the beer.”

  “Get Budweiser,” Eddie said. “And some beef jerky sticks, the spicy ones. And a lotto ticket.”

  I just shook my head.

  Buck went in and got a twelve pack of Budweiser and a handful of jerky sticks. He also got an eight pack of Zephyrhills water.

  When he got back in the Jeep, he put the water in the backseat with me and gave the beer and jerky to Eddie.

  Eddie started peeling the top off the twelve pack, but Buck stopped him. “Don't open it yet. Let's get someplace we won't be bothered.”

  “Go to Quirk,” Eddie said. “Won't nobody bother us there.”

  “Quirk? What's that?”

  “It's the public library on Dearborn. You know where that is?”

  “I know where the library is,” Buck answered.

  “Go there and park around back. Nice and private.”

  Eddie was right, the back parking lot behind the Elsie Quirk library building was empty. The library was closed, and no one else was around.

  As soon as we pulled in, Eddie pulled a beer from the twelve pack, popped the top and took a long drink.

  “Oh man, that hits the spot. You boys want one?”

  I shook my head. “Not me. Think I'll just stick with water.”r />
  “Yeah,” said Buck. “Water sounds good.”

  I pulled two bottles from the pack, handed one to Buck and kept one for myself.

  The water was cold and felt good going down.

  Buck took a long swallow, then turned to Eddie.

  “Now Eddie, how about you tell us where the dog is. We need to get it back to its rightful owner.”

  Eddie took another long draw from his beer, finishing off the can. He reached for another, but Buck stopped him.

  “Not yet. First tell us where the dog is.”

  Eddie looked longingly at the cold beers just out of his reach. “Palm Marina. That's where Darrell usually parks his van at night.

  “If the dog's still in the van, that's where you'll find it.”

  “He works there? At the marina?” asked Buck.

  “No, he keeps his boat there. And he takes it out at night. Cruises around looking for things to steal.

  “Ever since he heard about bricks of pot floating in the bay, he's been going out there at night with a spotlight looking for them.

  “Says he's got some kind of tracker device that tells him where the packages are.”

  Buck looked at me and nodded. We already knew why Darrell had visited Polly's trailer, the little black tracking device we found on her kitchen counter.

  Buck took his hand off the beer and smiled at Eddie. “Have another one. Just keep the can out of sight.”

  We pulled out of Quirk and headed toward Palm Marina. Like most places in Englewood, it was close by. Not more than three miles away.

  Eddie had finished his second beer by the time we pulled in the marina parking lot. Buck didn't stop him when he reached for his third. Eddie pulled the tab on the can and was drinking it down fast.

  Even though the marina facility was closed, the parking lot was a quarter full. Mostly pickup trucks belonging to fishermen who were still out on the water.

  In the far corner of the lot sat a faded blue Chevy van.

  Eddie pointed, “That's it. That's Darrell's van.”

  Buck coasted the Jeep over to the van and killed the motor.