Mango Key

by Bill H Myers

  The laptop was still on the table between them, the screen facing Freddie. Every thirty seconds the webcam was sending me a photo. I had plenty of Freddie but I needed some of Vincent. I had asked Freddie to make sure Vincent sat in front of the computer, but I hadn't told him why. It looked like Freddie had forgotten or changed the plan.

  Figuring the meeting was over, Vincent started to get up, but Freddie stopped him. “What you going to be doing the rest of the day?”

  Vincent shook his head. “I don't know. Maybe I'll go over to Smathers, check out the girls on the beach. If it gets too hot, I'll go over to the library, use their computers.”

  “Vincent, don't use the computers down at the library. Too many people around.”

  Freddie slid the laptop he had been using over to him. “Take this one. I don't need it anymore.”

  Vincent looked at the laptop then at Freddie. “You're giving me your computer?”

  “Yeah, I am. It belonged to my girls. I didn't like what they were doing with it so I took it from them. Now it's yours.”

  Vincent smiled. “If you're giving it away, I'll take it.”

  Freddie pointed to the screen. “They got free internet here at the marina. If you want to, you can sit here in the shade and surf the web all day.”

  Vincent nodded. “Maybe I'll do that.”

  Freddie stood. “I gotta go. Still got to make three deliveries before dark. I'll call you if anything comes up.”

  Freddie walked down to his boat, started it and motored away. As soon as Freddie was gone, Vincent closed the cover on the laptop, tucked it under his arm and headed back to his minivan. He threw the laptop onto the passenger seat, got in on the driver's side and drove off.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  I'd learned a lot from Freddie and Vincent's meeting. Most importantly, I’d learned that Freddie had lied to me. Just about everything he had told me was untrue.

  He had said that Vincent was the boss. That Vincent was the one who had robbed the boat. That Vincent was the one who had splashed blood on the hot dog stand.

  None of it was true.

  Freddie had been calling the shots. He was the boss of the crew and the one who'd vandalized the hot dog stand and robbed the boat. He'd admitted killing the last person who had come around asking questions and he was planning to kill me.

  He was the bad guy. He was the one I had to worry about. And it sounded like his daughters needed to worry about him too.

  He'd said they'd been kidnapped, and it sounded like he was the one who had taken them. I wasn't sure if that meant he took them from his ex-wife or if he took them from someone else. Either way, that, along with his admission of killing the last person who'd come around asking questions, put his daughters at risk.

  He had said his ex-wife was still in Mississippi. Too poor to hire someone to go looking for the girls. The girls had sent an email to Boris, trying to get him to send money to a Mississippi address. Maybe they were trying to get money to their mother so she could come looking for them.

  If the girls had been kidnapped, I needed to make sure they were safe before I went further with Freddie. I decided to call the Sheriff’s Office in Jackson, Mississippi. Maybe they'd had a report of two missing girls.

  I looked up the number and gave them a call. A woman with a deep southern accent answered the phone. “Jackson Sheriff's Office. How can I help you?”

  I told her what I knew.

  “I'm in Florida and heard a man talking about two young girls he had taken from Mississippi. He'd said something about kidnapping them. Wondered if you knew anything about two missing girls?”

  While I was talking, I could hear her typing on a keyboard. When I finished, she said, “Let me transfer you to Detective Lee. He handles those kinds of cases.”

  The phone clicked and after seven rings a man answered. “Detective Lee. How can I help?”

  I told him about the two girls and the man they were with and mentioned I had photos of the man and the two girls.

  He sounded interested. “What's the man's name?”

  “First name is Freddie. Last name is Tuttle. That's what it says on his business card.”

  “What about the girls? You know their names?”

  “No, don't know their names. But I do know they have people in Noxapater, Mississippi. Maybe their mother lives there?”

  “Noxapater, huh? Hold on, let me look it up.”

  The detective put me on hold. Noxapater was mentioned in the email they'd sent to Boris. I figured it was connection to them and the detective might find a link if he searched his crime database. It should have been a quick search. But it wasn't.

  Five minutes later, I was still on hold. I was starting to think maybe something had come up and he had forgotten me. I was about to hang up when he returned.

  “Thanks for holding. I didn't get your name. How do you spell it?”

  I haven't given my name and wasn't sure why he needed it. But I had nothing to hide, so I told him. “Name's Walker. John Walker.”

  “Okay. Mr. Walker, can I reach you at the number you called in on? Will you be available for the next hour or so?”

  “Yeah, I'll be at this number. Did you find anything?”

  He didn't answer my question. Instead he said, “Someone will be calling you back within an hour.” Then he hung up.

  I wasn't sure what to make of the call. I'd given him plenty of information but hadn't learned anything about the girls. Maybe he'd be able to tell me something when he called back.

  While I waited for his call, I had another call I needed to worry about. The one from Freddie. He had told Vincent he was going to call and try to get me to go out on his boat with him. His plan was to take me twelve miles out, push me overboard and leave me for the sharks.

  Not wanting to be shark bait, I needed to come up with an alternate plan. One where I didn't have to swim twelve miles back to shore.

  While I was thinking about this, my phone rang. No caller ID. Normally the kind of calls I send to voice mail. But not this time. The detective in Mississippi had said someone would be calling me back and I figured it was him. I answered.

  “This is Walker.”

  “Mr. Walker, this is agent Hull with the FBI. We need to talk.”

  I recognized the voice. It was Vincent's.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  The caller identified himself as an FBI agent, but the voice belonged to Vincent.

  I decided to play along. See what he had to say.

  “How can I help you, Agent Hull?”

  “You can start by telling me where you are. What city?”

  “I'm in Key West. Why do you need to know?”

  “Just for our records, that's all. When you called to report the kidnapping, you told the detective in Mississippi you had a photo of the man involved as well as the two girls. When were the photos taken?”

  “Yesterday and today.”

  “I see. So, you've seen the man in question. Have you talked to him?”

  “Yes I have”

  “What about?”

  Before I answered, I thought about the question. If the man with Vincent's voice was really with the FBI, I didn't want to say anything that might get me in trouble. I sure didn't want to say anything about Boris or Wiener Girl or the laptop.

  I gave him an answer that was 'truth adjacent'.

  “I've been looking for a boat like his and asked him a few questions about it. We talked for a bit then I left.”

  “What about the picture of the girls? How did you get it?”

  Again, I had to be careful with my answer. I didn't want to tell an FBI agent I had placed a remote image capture program on Freddie's laptop, especially now that the laptop was in the agent's possession. I decided to lie.

  “I saw it on their Facebook page.”

  “Facebook huh? You sure about that?”

  “Yeah, I'm sure. Facebook.”

  I didn't think he believed me because he said, “Hold on,”
and put me on hold.

  I figured he was going to check Facebook to see if the girls had posted photos. I was hoping that, with the hundreds of millions of accounts on Facebook, he wouldn't know how to find the one the two girls had, assuming they had one. But if he did find it and the photos weren't there, he'd know I was lying.

  While I was waiting for him to get back to me, my laptop beeped. A message on the screen indicated Freddie's laptop, which was now in Vincent's possession, had just connected to the internet. It started sending me photos from its webcam.

  The first showed Vincent, aka Agent Hull, phone in hand, sitting at a desk. Behind him, a file cabinet against a wall, a cork bulletin board with notes pinned to it and three small photos showing a woman, a child and a dog.

  The webcam was sending a second photo when Agent Hull came back on the phone. “You still there, Mr. Walker?”

  “Yes, I'm here.”

  “Good. If the man you saw is the same man we've been looking for, we could really use your help finding the girls. Any photos you have along with your recollection of your meeting could really help us. Think you could come by and talk to us? Maybe later on today?”

  Before I answered, I checked the photo that had just come in from the webcam. It showed Agent Hull/Vincent sitting at his desk, phone to his ear. The office behind him looked real. Like what you'd expect an FBI office to look like. I was starting to believe that maybe he really was FBI but decided to test him to find out for sure.

  With him still waiting for me to answer his question, I said, “Agent Hull, would you do me a favor? If you have an FBI ID, would you get it out and hold it up near your face.”

  There was a pause, then, “You want me to do what?”

  “Get out your FBI ID and hold it up near your face. Will you do that for me?”

  “Why? You can't see me. You won't know whether I'm doing it or not. Why should I?”

  “Because I'm asking you to, that's why. If you're really FBI, you should have an ID and it shouldn't be a problem for you to hold it up next to your face. Either do it or I'm not going to meet with you.”

  “This is crazy. But if that's what it takes to get you to meet with me, I'll do it. Hold on while I get my ID out.”

  A few seconds later, my laptop pinged with another incoming image from the webcam. This one showed Vincent holding an FBI ID up near his face. I zoomed into the image to get a closer look. The ID looked legit.

  On the phone I heard Agent Hull say, “I'm holding it up by my face. Now what?”

  “You can put it away, but I'll want to see it in person when we meet. When and where?”

  I could hear his voice relax. “How about two this afternoon? Our offices are in the same building as the Monroe County Sheriff on Sunset Marina Road. You know where that is?”

  “No, tell me.”

  “You know where Sunset Marina is?”

  I didn't know too many places in Key West, but I knew where the Sunset Marina was, as I was parked in its lot. I didn't tell Hull this, I just said, “Yeah, I know where it is.”

  “Good. We're directly across the street. Go in the front door and let the receptionist know you have a meeting with me. I'll be expecting you at two. Any questions?”

  “No, I'll be there.”

  I ended the call.

  Thirty seconds later, the webcam sent me another image. This one showed Hull getting up from his desk still dressed as Vincent. I wondered if he would change clothes before our meeting.

  Because the building where I was supposed to meet Hull was directly across from where I was parked, I wouldn't need to move the motorhome. I could just walk over. It was raining, but it wouldn't bother me to get wet.

  This would be the second time I had met with federal agents since moving to Florida. The first time was with Homeland Security. They'd picked me up because I'd stumbled into one of their investigations. It looked like I might have done it again.

  I learned from that first meeting it's best not to go in alone. It was a good idea to go in with a witness. Someone who could be relied on to call out the troops if the feds decided to hide you away in a dark cell.

  Last time, Buck had gone in with me and had saved the day. I figured having him go in with me again would be a good idea. I decided to give him a call to see if he was interested in a repeat performance.

  After six rings he answered.

  “Buck, it's me, Walker. You still out on the boat?”

  “No, it started to get rough, so we came in. Had a great time though. You should have come with us.”

  “I wish I could have, but I had things to do.”

  “Yeah I remember. How'd it go?”

  “Not the way I expected. Everything we thought we knew was wrong. And the FBI is involved.”

  “The FBI? You telling me the FBI is investigating the trouble down at Wiener Girl?”

  “I don't know if they're investigating Wiener Girl or not. All I know is the FBI is involved and I've got a meeting with them in an hour. I was wondering if you'd like to come along?”

  Buck didn't hesitate with his answer. “Yeah, I want to be there. When and where?”

  “Meet me at Sunset Marina parking lot at one forty-five. You know where that is? ”

  “No, but Kat does. I'll get her to drive. I'll be there in twenty minutes.”

  We ended the call.

  I was glad Buck was going to join me for the meeting with Agent Hull but wasn't so sure it was a good idea to get Kat involved. If the FBI were investigating Freddie and if he had robbed Boris' boat, their investigation might be focused on Boris' business dealings.

  I had no idea what kind of business Boris was in, but I was pretty sure he wouldn't want the FBI looking into it. If they were, it'd be a mistake to take Kat into the meeting with us or even let her know what it was about. If they found out she was Boris' daughter, things could go downhill quickly.

  I decided I'd try to convince Kat to stay in the motorhome and watch Bob while Buck and I were in the meeting. I'd tell her we didn't know how long it would last and I didn't want anyone towing the motorhome for being illegally parked with Bob inside. It sounded like a reasonable request to me. I hoped she would agree.

  While waiting for Buck and Kat to arrive, I hooked up a color printer and printed out a few of the photos I'd gotten from Freddie's laptop. Agent Hull said he wanted to see the photos and I was going to oblige him. I printed out one of the girls, one of Freddie sitting at the marina, and one of Vincent right after Freddie gave him the laptop. I figured Agent Hull, aka Vincent, could frame that one. He could show his friends what he looked like while on the job.

  Just as the third photo was printing, I heard a car pull up outside. It was one of the white Prii from Boris' stable. Kat got out on the driver's side and helped Buck out on the passenger.

  I opened the motorhome's side door and waved them in. Buck headed for the couch and sat while Kat went to the fridge and opened it. “You got anything to drink in here?”

  “Yeah. Water, juice, and wine. Take your pick.”

  She grabbed a bottle of water, took a sip and said, “Tell me about this FBI meeting.”

  I wasn't sure what I should tell her, but I figured I might as well go with the truth.

  “Freddie and Vincent, the two guys harassing Wiener Girl, had a nice talk this morning. I learned that Freddie is the brains of the operation. He's the one calling the shots. Vincent is just a lackey.

  “Freddie said something about two young girls he's holding. He mentioned the word 'kidnapped' and it got my attention. After the meeting was over, I called around and found a detective in Mississippi who thought the two girls might be from there.

  “That's when the FBI got involved. They wanted me to come in and talk about it. At least that's what they told me. Or it could be about Freddie's plan to kill me.”

  Kat sat up. “Freddie's planning to kill you? Is that what you just said?”

  “Yeah, he's planning to kill me. Tomorrow. He's going to take me out
on his boat and dump me in the ocean.”

  Kat smiled. “Tomorrow, huh? If he kills you, you won't have any use for this motorhome. Be okay if I take it?”

  She was joking. Or at least I hoped she was.

  Buck decided he wanted in. “If she gets the motorhome, I get Bob.”

  Apparently, they weren't too concerned about my impending doom. The truth was neither was I. I had no plans to go out on a boat with Freddie. I was more worried about the meeting with the FBI.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  It didn't take much to convince Kat to stay in the motorhome while Buck and I met with agent Hull. She said, “I don't need to get anywhere near an FBI agent. You two go ahead, I'll stay in the motorhome. But leave me the keys in case you don't make it back.”

  Normally, I wouldn't want to give up the keys. The motorhome is my home and I didn't want to risk Kat driving off in it. But she didn't seem like the type to take off, at least not without a good reason. And anyway, if a security guard asked her to move it, she'd need the keys. So I gave them to her.

  It was still raining when it came time for the meeting. Buck didn't want to get wet, so we decided to take Kat's Prius. It would be a short drive, just across the parking lot. As soon as we got in the car, Buck asked, “So what's the real story? I know you didn't call me over here for a meeting about two missing girls. Tell me the truth. What's going on?”

  He was right; there was more to it than the missing girls. So I told him what I knew.

  “Buck, I didn't want to say anything in front of Kat, but the guy Freddie met with, Vincent? He's an undercover FBI agent. And Freddie? He's the one who robbed Boris' boat. I think the FBI is investigating him, probably for more than just kidnapping his own daughters.”

  Buck thought about it then said, “If Boris' name comes up, don't say anything about Kat being his daughter, and don't say anything about his computer being hacked. In fact, if Boris' name comes up, we leave. Got it?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, if they mention Boris, we get up and go.”

  At the Sheriff’s Office, we went up to the front desk. A woman in uniform sat behind the counter. She looked up and asked, “How can I help you?”