Mango Motel

by Bill H Myers

  Madicof paused then said, “I know about them. What makes you think the ones you have are worth so much?”

  I lied. “I had them appraised by a local gallery. They said each was worth at least five grand. Maybe more.”

  I was expecting his next question. “If the paintings are worth so much, why would you consider giving them to me? It doesn't make sense.”

  I was ready with my answer. “I’m quite fond of Ms. Donnely and I’m not sure I can find Waldo. If I am unable to do so, I would rather have Ms. Donnely than the paintings.”

  There was a pause on the line and again I could hear voices whispering in the background. Then Madicof said, “Okay, I'm interested in the paintings. Have them with you when we meet with Waldo. If they are what you say they are, I’ll release Ms. Donnely to you.”

  I waited for a moment, then said, “I have a better offer. I bring the paintings to you now and you release Erin to me. That way, even if I can't find Waldo, you still have the paintings.”

  Madicof wasn’t buying it. “Mr. Walker, I'm not a fool. I know that when I release the woman, I'll probably never hear from either of you again. If the paintings turn out to be fakes and you don't bring me Waldo, I gain nothing. So no deal. Find Waldo and call me when you do.”

  He hung up.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  I didn't have a car. We had returned Raif's and Erin had taken hers. My motorhome was my only option. It wouldn't be the best vehicle to use to find Waldo. It was too wide and long to get into small parking lots or drive on many of the narrow streets in Saint Augustine.

  I was pretty sure I could get it into the Die Inn though. If luck was with me, Waldo would be there. I could pick him up, go to the storage building where the paintings were, put ten of them in the motorhome, and call Madicof to set up a meeting.

  Before I could do any of that, I needed to bring the slide rooms in and unhook from shore power. I did it quickly, and because I had secured everything when I went to the dump station, I was ready to roll.

  I started the engine and left Anastasia State Park. When I got to A1A, I turned south heading for the Die Inn where I hoped to find Waldo.

  I'm not much of a fan of driving the motorhome after dark through city streets, but it had to be done. I stayed in the right lane and when I got to Waldo's place, I pulled in, hoping to see his silver Camry in the parking lot.

  It wasn't there. Neither was Waldo. He had left for the evening. He was either in town trying to sell jugs of water, or back at the motel room he had mentioned earlier.

  Since the county had solved his money problem, I figured he didn’t need to raise cash selling water, and had gone back to his motel room.

  Problem was I didn't know the name of the motel, or where it was located. Trying to find it while driving the motorhome after dark with just me as the lookout wasn't a winning strategy.

  I only knew one other person in Saint Augustine, and while still parked at the Die Inn, I gave him a call. He answered on the third ring.

  “Raif, they've taken Erin and won't let her go until I bring them Waldo.”

  Before I could explain the situation, he asked, “What do you mean they've taken Erin? Who's taken her? How'd you let that happen?”

  I answered his questions the best I could. “The loan shark from Key West and his two goons. They've got her. One of them called pretending to be a worker at the taco truck. They told her there was a problem and they needed her help.

  “She dropped me at the motorhome and took her car to meet with them. If I'd been with her, I would have stopped them. Or died trying.”

  Raif was silent for a moment then asked, “Where are you? I'll come get you.”

  “No, don't do that. I'm only a few minutes away. I'm coming to your place in my RV. I'll be there in ten minutes.”

  I turned the motorhome around, pulled back out on A1A and headed to Raif's. Traffic was light and I got there quicker than expected. He was outside waiting and when he saw me pull in, he headed in my direction. As he got closer, I could see he was wearing a shoulder holster. I assumed there was a loaded gun in it.

  I was hoping we wouldn't need it. But if we did, it was good to have it ready.

  His fists were clenched and he had a sour look on his face. I half expected him to take a swing at me for letting Erin get sucked into this mess. But he didn't. Instead, he said, “What do we need to do?”

  “Pick up the paintings. They're in a storage building not far from here.”

  “Paintings? What paintings? Why are they more important than getting Erin back?”

  I explained it to him. “The paintings are my backup plan in case we don't find Waldo. Madicof might give us Erin if I give him the paintings.”

  Raif nodded. “Okay. Let's go get them.”

  He tossed me his car keys and said, “You're driving.”

  He knew how to get around Saint Augustine a lot better than I did, and it would have made sense for him to drive. But since he didn't want to, my guess was he had been enjoying some herbal relief when I called. He may not have trusted himself behind the wheel.

  With me driving and Raif in the passenger seat, it took us nine minutes to get to the storage building. We burned another ten minutes unlocking the unit and grabbing the first ten paintings. I stacked them in the trunk, using the towels from the motel as padding.

  With the paintings taken care of, the next step was to find Waldo. I was hoping it would be easy. But I wasn't expecting it to be.

  I brought Raif up to speed. “I looked at the Die Inn and he wasn't there. He told me earlier he was staying in a motel close by, but he didn't tell me the name of the place. All I know is it is somewhere off A1A, rooms are cheap and there's a drug dealer in the room next to him.”

  Raif thought for a moment. “I know a few places that fit that description. Let's hope he's at one of them.”

  Four minutes later, we were on A1A south, checking the parking lots of cheap motels trying to find Waldo's car. I drove slowly, scanning the lots on my left, with Raif scanning the ones on the right.

  When we got to the Die Inn, I pulled in and again checked to see if Waldo was in the office or any of the rooms. I was hoping he had gone to get dinner and had come back. But he hadn't. The place was still locked up. No lights and no cars in the lot.

  Leaving the Die Inn, we drove south for about ten miles, checking every place we passed. When we reached a row of expensive high rise condos, it was time to turn back. Waldo wouldn’t fork over what it would cost to stay in one of those places.

  Raif had me pull in the same parking lot where Erin and I had eaten ice cream the night before. “What else did Waldo tell you?”

  I shook my head and tried to remember. “All he said was the motel was a few miles south, and the guy in the room next to him was selling drugs.”

  Raif nodded. “So he didn't actually say it was on A1A? That means it could be on one of the side streets. Turn around. Let’s check.”

  We'd been on the road for twenty minutes when my phone chimed with an incoming call. The caller ID was the same as before. Erin.

  I answered. “This is Walker.”

  Madicof asked, “You find him yet?”

  I shook my head. “No, but I'm looking for him. I'll call you when I do.”

  I didn't wait to see what he might say next. I hung up.

  Raif looked at me. “Was that him?”

  I nodded.

  He shook his head. “If they hurt her in any way, I'll kill them. All of them.”

  I was certain he would.

  Chapter Sixty

  Raif was telling me that when he was a cop, they got a lot of calls about one place in particular. The Romar Motor Court. Most of the cases there were drug-related, but they were also known for prostitution. It wasn't the kind of place that most people would want to stay. At least not voluntarily.

  But the rates were low and a newcomer like Waldo might not know any better. We decided to check there first.

  Raif gave
me directions and we pulled into their parking lot a few minutes later. A group of about ten youths loitering in the lot saw the ex-cop car we were in and quickly headed for their rooms. Whatever they had been doing, they didn't want the police to know about it.

  We didn't bother going to the front office. Raif said it was the kind of place that didn't keep track of who was staying there. As long as customers paid in cash, there were no questions asked. The management didn't care who you were or what you did as long as you paid the going rate.

  We cruised the parking lot twice before finding Waldo's Camry. It was on the side of the building, between two cars that looked like they had been abandoned.

  Finding his Camry meant Waldo was probably at the Romar in his room. The problem was we didn't know which one he was in and didn't think knocking on doors of likely drug dealers and pimps would get us anywhere. They were firm believers of following the “snitches get stitches” rules of conduct. If Waldo’s neighbors thought he was friendly with the PoPo, they might want to shut him up. We didn't want that. We needed to find him alive and unharmed.

  Raif asked the obvious question. “How do we know which room he's in?”

  I shook my head. “I don't know. But Waldo did say the guy in the room next to his was selling drugs. If we could find him, Waldo's room would be close by.”

  Raif wasn't overly happy with my answer. “There's a good chance that more than one person is selling drugs out of a room here at the Romar. Could be that everyone here is in the same business, except Waldo.

  “We might as well start knocking on doors until we find him.”

  I didn’t agree. “Raif, don't take this wrong, but you look like a cop. And we’re in a cop car. Nobody here is going to tell us anything. We're leaving.”

  I pulled out of the parking lot and instead of turning left to get back on A1A turned right into a residential neighborhood. I drove a block and pulled over in front of a vacant lot.

  I turned to Raif and said, “You stay here, out of sight. I'm going to go back and start asking questions. I'll start with the desk clerk and a hundred-dollar bill.

  “If I learn anything, I'll call you.”

  Raif didn't like the idea of me going in on my own, but he knew we needed to find Waldo if we wanted to get Erin back. It might be dangerous to start asking questions at the Romar, but both of us were willing to take the risk for Erin’s sake.

  As I was getting out of the car, Raif asked, “You want a gun?”

  “No, I don't think I'll need one. I'm hoping that cash will get the job done. If it doesn't, we'll go to plan B.”

  I didn't know what plan B was, but between the two of us, I was pretty sure we'd come up with something.

  After I got out of the car, I bent over and grabbed a handful of dirt from the side of the road. I rubbed some on my pants and a little more on my shirt. I roughed up my hair and did my best not to look like a cop. I wanted to fit in with the crowd we had seen in the parking lot and none of them looked like they were working for John Law.

  My plan was to look like a junkie with cash-in-hand looking for a quick fix. A drug dealer's dream customer.

  I headed back toward the motel and when I got close, I started my act. I hunched over and walked slowly, mumbling to myself like maybe I had too much to drink or smoke. I added a limp to help sell the illusion.

  Not wanting to take a chance of knocking on random doors, I headed to the office. I opened the door and stepped into a small dirty room that reeked of sweat and cigarette smoke. A man who I figured to be the night clerk sat in a small cubby, separated from the lobby by bulletproof glass. He had his feet up on the desk and was watching porn on a small TV.

  When he saw me come in, he shook his head and said, “We're full up. Go somewhere else.”

  I didn't leave. Instead, I walked up to the glass barrier, pulled a hundred-dollar bill out of my pocket and said, “My friend Waldo told me to meet him here. You know which room he's in?”

  The clerk looked at the hundred, thought about it for a few seconds and then said, “We've got a lot of Waldos here. Not worth me getting up out of my chair for just one Benjamin.”

  When he smiled, showing a few missing teeth, I knew what he wanted. More money.

  I pulled out another hundred and held it up to the glass.

  This time he got up and walked over to me. We were still separated by the bulletproof partition. He looked at the two bills and said, “We don't keep a register here. Can’t look up guests by name. Tell me what he looks like. I might be able to help.”

  I nodded. “White guy, early thirties, about five-seven, a little overweight. Drives a Camry. Silver with fading paint.”

  The clerk smiled. “Yeah, I know him. Didn't know his name was Waldo though. We just call him the fat white guy.”

  He pointed to the two hundreds I was holding and waited. I slid one through the narrow opening at the bottom of the glass. The clerk snatched it up and put it in his pocket.

  “Room sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Not sure which, but it's one of those.”

  I pushed the other hundred under the glass. “If you're playing me, you won't like it when I come back.”

  He moved back to his chair, “You won't need to come back. He's in room sixteen. Or seventeen. One of the two.”

  Leaving the office, I noticed that the group of youths who had been in the lot when we pulled in in Raif's car were back. I checked to see if Waldo was with them. He wasn’t, or at least I didn’t see him. He would have stood out if he was with them. There was no way I would have missed him.

  One of the men in the group saw me looking in their direction and yelled, “What do you want, homie?”

  I didn't answer. No need to get them riled up. I turned and headed back to where Raif was waiting.

  When I got to his car, he asked, “Any luck?”

  “Yes, the guy in the office said he's in room sixteen, maybe seventeen. Not sure which, but he's in one of them. I'm going to go see if I can find out.”

  I started to go back to the Romar, but Raif stopped me when he said, “I've got a better idea.”

  Chapter Sixty-One

  We were still sitting in Raif's car. About a block behind the Romar. We had learned that Waldo was in room sixteen or seventeen. But we didn't know which one.

  I wanted to go back and knock on doors. Find out which room he was in. If he wasn't in sixteen, I'd check seventeen.

  I thought it was a good plan. Raif didn't.

  He said, “Look, we saw Waldo's car. So we know he's there. That's all that really matters. We'll let Madicof figure out which room. We'll let him knock on doors.

  “All we have to do is make sure Waldo doesn't leave before Madicof gets there. We don’t know which room Waldo's in, but we do know what he’d be driving if he wanted to leave.

  “So go back to his car and pull the coil wire. That'll keep him there.”

  I started to get out, but Raif wasn’t finished. “Don't go the same way you did before. This time go in on the backside, near Waldo's car. Keep low and don't let the guys in the parking lot see you. Call me if you get into trouble.”

  Raif's plan sounded good. But it would only work if Waldo's car was unlocked. If it wasn't, I wouldn't be able to open the hood to pull the coil wire unless I was willing to break a window.

  I was definitely willing to do that but worried the sound of breaking glass might attract the wrong kind of attention. I was hoping to get lucky and find the car unlocked.

  I left Raif behind and headed to the Romar. Going the back way, there were no street lights. The poles were there, but the lights weren't working. They'd probably been busted out by people not wanting others to see what they were up to. I didn't want to be seen either, so darkness worked in my favor.

  Judging by the odor of urine and feces that grew stronger the closer I got to Waldo's car it looked like the side street was being used as an outdoor toilet. It was close and convenient for guests and visitors who didn't want to go back into their roo
ms and handy for those partying in Romar's front lot.

  I was hoping none of them would feel the urge as I made my way to Waldo's car. I didn't want to be lurking on the side of the road when they pulled their pants down nor did I want them to see me.

  Fortunately, no one did. I got to Waldo's Camry unseen. Staying low, I went to the driver's door and tried it. Surprisingly, it was unlocked. Either Waldo was dumber than I thought or he figured it was better to leave the car unlocked so thieves wouldn’t have to break a window to get inside.

  It was something people living in South Florida quickly learned. If there is nothing inside a car worth stealing, it’s better to leave it unlocked. Replacing a broken window is expensive. Especially if you have to do it more than once. It’s cheaper to leave the doors unlocked so thieves don’t have to break glass to get in.

  When I opened his door, the dome light flickered on. Not wanting to draw attention, I quickly found the hood latch, pulled it, and shut the door.

  I waited a few seconds to see if my actions had attracted any attention. They hadn't. The loud music coming from the front parking lot along with whatever the crowd was doing to stay entertained covered any sounds I made.

  Going to the front of the car, I lifted the hood and looked for the coil. But like a lot of newer cars, it was buried deep underneath a plastic engine cover. There was no way I could get to it quickly. So instead of trying to get it out, I found the battery and pulled the positive cable. It came off easier than it should have. A sign that Waldo hadn’t been much on keeping up with basic car maintenance.

  Without battery power, the car wouldn’t be going anywhere any time soon. I quietly closed the hood and headed back to where Raif was waiting.

  As soon as I slid onto the passenger seat, he asked, “Any problems?”

  “No. It’s done.”

  “Good, now what do we do?”

  I'd thought about it on my walk back to the car and had worked out a plan that might have a chance of working.