by Bill Myers
“So you say Darrell is out on the water? He won't be inside the van?”
“Well he does sleep in it sometimes. But usually not here.”
Buck looked at me, then opened his door and got out.
Being in the back seat of the two door Jeep meant I couldn't easily follow unless either he or Eddie slid their seat forward.
Buck closed the door behind him, and Eddie didn't make a move to get out. I reached into the front seat and grabbed what remained of the twelve pack of beer, and put it in the back seat beside me.
“Eddie, why don't we trade places. You get back here, and I'll get up there.”
Eddie nodded. “Can do. But I gotta take a leak first.”
He got out of the Jeep and walked over to the nearby chain link fence, unzipped his pants and let nature take its course.
With him out of the Jeep, I was able to tilt the front seat forward, giving me enough room to climb out. As soon as I was out, I walked over to the blue van and joined Buck.
“See anything inside?”
“No, there's curtains all the way around. Can't see inside.”
I tried the back door. It was locked. Buck tried the two front doors. They were locked as well.
“Try this.” I looked behind me and Eddie was standing there with a long screw driver.
“This'll get you in. Just slip it between the two back doors and give it a twist.”
Apparently Eddie had experience in these matters.
CHAPTER FORTY FOUR
I had just slipped the screwdriver between the back doors of the blue van when I heard a voice behind me say, “Better not do that.”
I turned to see two men walking in my direction. One carrying a flashlight, and the other carrying what looked like a baseball bat.
Putting the screwdriver behind my back, I asked, “This your van?”
“Nope. Is it yours?”
Pointing back behind me, I said, “I think my dog's locked inside. Trying to get him out.”
The two men walked up closer and stopped about six feet in front of me. One had a pony tail, the other had spider web tattoos up both arms and around his neck.
I knew who they were. PT and Spider. The guys Polly had told me about. The ones who had been hanging out at Serenity Cove. The two guys I'd seen loading black suitcases into a boat when Lucy and I were having dinner at Zekes.
Pony Tail pointed his baseball bat toward Buck and Eddie. “Why don't you two move over a little closer to your friend here. That way we don't have to worry about you running off.”
He turned to me and said, “You didn't answer the question. Is this your vehicle?”
I smiled, trying my best to win the two guys over. “No, it's not mine. I'm in the Jeep over there.
“But the guy who owns this van, his name is Darrell. And I think my dog's inside. Just want to get him out.”
Pony Tail shook his head. “Your dog's not in the van. And you don't want to be breaking into it.”
He pointed his baseball bat toward my Jeep. “It'd be best if all three of you got in your Jeep and got out of here before there's trouble.”
Eddie started moving toward the Jeep, but Buck and I stood our ground.
I smiled at Pony Tail. “We don't want any trouble. We just want our dog out of the van.”
He shook his head, “Your dog is not in there. And it's time for you to go.”
Buck looked at me and slowly moved his hand toward the inside of his jacket. I knew he was reaching for the gun that he wasn't supposed to be carrying.
I looked him in the eye and shook my head.
He got the message, moved his hand away and pretended to be scratching an itch on his shoulder.
Looking up, I saw Pony Tail shaking his head in disgust. He turned to Spider. “Call it in.”
Spider produced a phone from his back pocket, punched in a number and said, “We need a car.”
I looked at Buck and he signaled with his thumb that it was time to head back to the Jeep.
I took a step toward the Jeep, then quickly turned and slipped the screwdriver into the gap between the van's back doors. I twisted the screwdriver hard to the right.
That's all it took. One of the doors popped open. Not enough to see all the way in, but enough so I knew the door was now unlocked. If I grabbed the door handle, I could get it open.
A voice behind me, a lot closer than before, said, “Don't do it.”
Ignoring the voice, I reached for the door, which as it turned out, was a major mistake.
With my back to Pony Tail, I didn't see him swing the baseball bat that connected hard with my arm, knocking me away from the van.
As I fell to the ground, I saw Buck move toward me, and then saw Spider take Buck to the ground. I tried to stand, but Pony Tail placed the blunt end of the bat on my chest pinning me down.
“Look,” he said. “We tried to warn you. Told you to leave. But no, you just had to look in the van.
“So I'm going to tell you again, the dog is not in the van. But now that you've jimmied the back door, you get to go for a ride and meet some of our friends.”
Behind him, I saw a black four door sedan pull into the parking lot. Two middle age men got out and walked over to Spider, who was standing over Buck.
Spider did the talking. “These three. Take them and their Jeep.”
The men said nothing, just nodded. Using plastic zip ties they handcuffed Buck, Eddie and me, and shoved us in the back seat of their car.
Eddie protested, “Listen here, I'm not with these guys. I was just walking along, minding my own business. I don't even know them.”
Then he said, “That's my beer in the Jeep. Don't be drinking it.”
The two men ignored him, locked us in the backseat, and went to talk with Pony Tail.
After a brief discussion, one of the men checked the Jeep. The keys were still in the ignition. He climbed in the driver's seat, started it up and drove off. The other man came back to the car we were in, started the motor, and followed the man who was driving my Jeep.
Eight minutes later, we stopped at a deserted looking warehouse on McCall Road, next door to Leonard's Roofing Supply. The driver of the Jeep got out, unlocked a padlock on a chain link fence, and rolled the gate open.
He got back in the Jeep and we followed until he reached a windowless cinder block building at the back of the gated yard.
Our driver walked to the lone metal door at the front of the building and pounded on it twice with his fist. A moment later, the door opened and a man stepped out. He looked at the car we were in, and shook his head.
Then he signaled our driver to bring us in.
We were still handcuffed in the back seat. I was sitting closest to the door on the drivers side so they took me in first. They left Eddie and Buck in the car with a man watching over them.
I was led into the building through a small hallway and then into a large well lit room. Several folding tables had been set up against the walls, and each table had a computer monitor and keyboard on it.
Men in various attire, ranging from Florida casual to business suits, monitored video feeds on the computer screens. Some of the men wore audio headsets and were engaged in on-screen conversations.
“Where are we?” I asked.
The man guiding me said nothing. He pushed me past the computer stations and led me into a small unoccupied room in the back. A metal table sat in the center of the room, with a straight back chair on each side.
The man pointed at the chair on the far side of the table. “Sit. Don't go anywhere. Don't say anything.”
He left, leaving me alone in the room. A moment later, another man stepped in. Medium height, receding hairline, bags under his eyes, a scowl on his face.
He looked at me, a faint smile replacing the scowl. “I'm agent Harris with Homeland Security. We've got a few questions for you.”
“Homeland Security? Why is Homeland Security involved? We were just trying to get a dog back.”
&nb
sp; Harris shook his head. “You think this is about a dog? That's funny.”
Then he pointed at the grass stains on my shirt and the soot on my face.
“Rough night?”
“Yeah, you could say that. Am I under arrest?”
“No. We don't arrest people. We might hold you for a while, but we don't do arrests.”
Harris looked at me. “You going to be trouble?”
I shook my head. “No. I just want to get my dog back and go home.”
“Good. That's what I want to hear.”
From behind him, he produced a metal container about the size of a cigar box and slid it across the table to me. “Empty your pockets.”
My hands were still bound behind my back. “Untie me.”
Harris stood, pulled a small knife out of his pants pocket, and walked over behind me. “If you try anything, it won't end well.”
I nodded.
With a flick of the blade, he cut the plastic zip tie from around my wrist. I slowly brought my hands around and shook them to get the blood circulating. I then placed them on the table in front of me.
Harris smiled. “You're doing good so far. Now stand up. Empty your pockets. Put the contents in the box, and sit back down.”
I stood and did exactly what he said, emptying my pockets into the box. My wallet from my left front pant's pocket, Polly's cell phone from my right. I'd left my own cellphone back in the motor home.
“What about your shirt pocket? Empty it.”
Since moving to Florida, I'd adopted the local custom of wearing Columbia fishing shirts. The kind with two breast pockets held closed with hook and loop tabs. Rarely did I carry anything in those pockets. But tonight was different.
Back at Polly's trailer, I'd picked up the GPS tracker she had found in the brick of pot. That tracker was now in my right shirt pocket.
Reaching in, I retrieved the tracker and placed it in the metal box.
“Is that everything?”
“Yep. That's it.”
“Good.”
Harris picked up the tracker. “Where'd you get this?”
“It's a long story.”
“Good. I like long stories. So do my friends.”
The door of the room opened and another man stepped in. He picked up the metal box and left the room with it.
Harris and I sat in silence for a moment. He was smiling, like he knew something I didn't.
Four minutes later our silence was interrupted when the door opened and the man that had taken the metal box, returned and placed my drivers license on the table in front of Harris.
Harris picked it up and looked at it carefully. Then he said, “Mr. Walker, want to tell me why you firebombed the house on Pandora street.”
CHAPTER FORTY FIVE
“Firebombed a house? What are you talking about?”
Harris smiled. “We have witnesses. They saw you sneak around the house just before it exploded. So we know you were there. We just don't know why you blew it up.”
I shook my head. “Yes, I was there. But I didn't have anything to do with the explosion. I was looking for my dog.”
“Your dog? Why'd you think your dog was in the house?”
“It's a long story.”
Harris smiled. “Like I said earlier, I like long stories. Tell me everything.”
So I did.
I told him how Polly, Buck and I had gone out to her houseboat. And how when we got back, we discovered someone had broken into her trailer and stolen her dog.
Harris interrupted me at that point. “Is the dog valuable?”
I shook my head. “Only to Polly. It's like her child.”
Harris nodded. “What kind of dog is it?”
“A dachshund. His name is Oscar.”
“So does this Polly person have a lot of money?”
“No, not that I know of.”
“So if she doesn't have any money and the dog has no value, why'd they take it? What did they expect to gain?”
I took a deep breath. I needed to be careful with what I told him. I didn't want to get Polly in trouble.
“The dognapper thinks Polly has something that belongs to him. And he wants it back.”
“And what would that something be?”
“A package she found floating in the Intracoastal.”
Harris smiled. “Let me guess. Drugs.”
I nodded. “Yes. Well, pot. She found a brick of it floating next to her houseboat. She didn't want to have anything to do with it, so she cut the package open and dumped most of it back in the water. But she saved a small piece as evidence.
“She took that back to her trailer and didn't know there was a GPS tracker embedded in it.
“Apparently, someone followed the signal to her trailer, searched for the pot, and when they didn't find it, they took the dog.”
Harris interrupted me again. “She had illegal drugs in her trailer?”
“No, she'd already gotten rid of the pot. Dumped it. But still had the GPS tracker.”
Harris smiled thinly. “So someone broke into her trailer, and took her dog. Then what?”
“The dognapper called. He wanted to trade the dog for the pot. I agreed, but said he needed to send me a photo showing the dog was still alive.
“He shot a photo with his phone and sent it to me. And I used the GPS info in the photo to track his location to the house on Pandora street.”
Harris rubbed his head. “So then you went over there and blew up the house? Is that what happened?”
“No. I didn't blow up the house. I didn't have anything to do with it.
“When we got to the house, my plan was to go up and knock on the door to see if the dog was there.
“But just as I got to the door, the house exploded.”
Harris held up his hand. “You say the kidnapper sent you a photo of the dog?”
“Yes, it's on the cell phone.”
Harris put his hand in the air and motioned with a finger. Apparently sending a signal to someone outside the room.
A moment later, an agent came in and handed Polly's cell phone to Harris.
“Show me the photo.”
I took the phone and found the photo. “Here it is.”
Harris took the phone back and looked at the photo I'd found. “Nice looking dog.
“So you somehow discovered the Pandora street address from this photo?”
I nodded. “Yes. The dognapper’s phone had geo-tagging enabled. That means GPS coordinates are saved within the photo file.”
Harris looked at me. “You some kind of computer expert?”
I shrugged. “I worked computer network security for ten years before I came to Florida. So yes, I know a little about computers.”
Harris started browsing the other photos on the phone. “What about this one? Is that the brick of pot the Polly woman found?”
I nodded. “Yes, that's the photo she took before she dumped the package back in the water. We sent that photo to the kidnapper so he'd think we still had the package.”
Harris rubbed his eyes this time. “So, let me get this straight. Everything that happened tonight is about the dog. You just want him back. You're not involved in the meth lab on Pandora street. And you really don't know anything about the owner of the blue van – except you think he has the dog.”
I nodded. “That's right. It's all about the dog. Nothing else.”
Harris heaved a sigh and said, “I'll be right back.”
He left the room, leaving Polly's cell phone on the table.
CHAPTER FORTY SIX
The phone was right there in front of me. And no one had told me I couldn't use it. So I did.
Lucy answered on the third ring.
“Hello?”
“Lucy, this is Walker. Can't talk long. Oscar wasn't at the house on Pandora street. We followed a lead to another location but it didn't pan out. We've got another lead to check out. I'll call you as soon as we learn more.”
“Walker, don't h
ang up. Are you and Buck okay?”
“We're okay. Gotta go.”
I ended the call before she could reply. That would be the second time I'd hung up on her today. She'd be furious, but I couldn't tell her the whole story. Didn't have time and didn't want her to know we were being held by Homeland Security.
Moments after I put the phone back on the table, Harris re-entered the room.
He pointed over his shoulder. “Your friend out there is pretty famous. I've seen all his movies.”
I nodded.
Harris continued. “I'm surprised he got mixed up in this. You'd think he'd know better. But the good news is, his story matches yours.
I smiled. “So we can go?”
“No, not yet. You guys stumbled into one of our operations. And we can't risk you going back out on the streets and messing this thing up.
“So, here's what we can do.
“We've had the man you know as Darrell under surveillance for two months. We know he took your dog, and we know where the dog is.
“The dog is safe. For now.
“But the thing is, we can't give you the dog back until we finish our operation, which is to pick up Darrell and get him to tell us about some of his associates.
“And we can't pick him up because we've lost track of him. We don't know where he is.”
I interrupted. “Wait a minute. You just said you knew where the dog was. You said he was safe. But now you say you don't know where Darrell is?”
“That's right. We know the dog is with Darrell. We know he'll probably keep the dog safe until he gets the package from you. But at the moment, we don't know where Darrell is.”
I shook my head. “You've got all that surveillance equipment out there, and you don't know where Darrell is?”
“That's right, we lost him. We followed his van to the marina, and lost him when he took his boat out on the water. We were waiting for him to return to his van when you three stooges showed up.
“After you broke open the door to his van, we went ahead and searched it. It was empty. Like he wasn't planning on coming back.
“But now that we know you have something Darrell wants, there might be a way for you and I to work something out.