by Bill Myers
A light chop had come up, and the ride back was a bit more bouncy as we crossed the open waters of the bay.
But the light spray coming off the bow was invigorating, and we were all smiles as we headed in.
Upon reaching the boat ramp, Polly showed us how to get the dinghy back on the trailer. It took about ten minutes to get everything done to her satisfaction.
After checking everything twice, she said, “And that's how we do that. Everything is secure, and everybody is back on dry land, safe and sound.”
We got in the minivan and headed back to Lucy's to drop off the trailer. As before, I drove, with Buck and Polly side-by-side in the back seat.
They made a cute couple, and I was happy they had found each other.
I heard Buck say, “Being on the water all day has got me in the mood for seafood. How about we all go to the Gulf View Grill tonight?”
Polly thought it was a good idea. “Sounds good to me. How about you, Walker?”
I shook my head. “I appreciate the invite, but I'm going to pass. I've got a few things I need to take care of tonight.”
Truth was, I really didn't have anything I needed to do tonight. But I'd already spent most of the afternoon with Buck and Polly, and while I really enjoyed their company I didn't want to be a third wheel on their dinner date.
CHAPTER THIRTY NINE
When we arrived at Lucy's, her 4Runner was parked in the driveway.
Polly smiled. “Looks like Lucy is home. Let me get out and talk to her while you two unload the boat. Think you can do it without me?”
“Yes,” I said. “We can handle it. Go talk to Lucy.”
After Polly got out, I pulled the minivan around to the back of the house, and angled the trailer so that it was parked pretty much where it had been when we picked it up earlier in the day.
After telling Polly we could handle unhooking the trailer, I wanted to be sure we actually could do it to her satisfaction.
Fortunately for us, unhooking the trailer was a lot easier than getting it in or out of the water. All we needed to do was lift the trailer off the hitch, roll it back to where it belonged, and crank down the trailer jack.
I did that while Buck watched. When I finished, he pointed to the tarp.
“It was covered this morning.”
“Yes it was.”
I grabbed one corner of the tarp and Buck grabbed the other. Working together, we covered the boat, using bungee cords to secure the tarp to the trailer.
After we were done, we both looked around to make sure we hadn't forgotten anything.
Buck smiled. “Looks good to me.”
I nodded. “I think Polly would approve.”
When we drove back around to the front yard, Polly and Lucy were standing on the porch talking. As soon as they saw us drive up, Polly said something to Lucy that made her laugh. Then Lucy turned and waved at me. I waved back.
Polly tucked a loose strand of hair behind Lucy's ear and gave her a hug. Then got back in the minivan with us. With everything taken care of at Lucy's, we headed back to Serenity Cove.
As we got close to Polly's trailer, she pointed and said, “Wonder what did that? It sure wasn't that way when we left.”
There were two deep ruts where she normally parked her minivan. A trail of gravel led from the ruts to the road.
“Maybe a maintenance truck?”
“No, I don't think so. I think someone's been inside my trailer.”
“What makes you think that?”
“My inside curtains are closed. They were open when we left, and now they're closed.”
Pulling to a stop just short of Polly's driveway, I asked, “Anyone else got a key to your trailer?”
“No. No one. Except for Lucy. And she didn't say anything about coming over here.”
I nodded. “Okay, whoever it was, it looks like they're gone now. But just to be on the safe side, let me go in first.”
Polly pointed to the car keys. “It's the silver key. Turn it to right. And be careful.”
Buck opened the door on his side of the minivan and started walking toward the Airstream. Looking back at us, he said, “Well, come on, let's see what we got here.”
I caught up with Buck, and he stood just behind me as I unlocked the trailer's front door. I stepped in first, then Buck, followed by Polly.
The place had been ransacked. All the cabinet doors stood open, their contents dumped onto the floor. Photos had been removed from the walls, tables and chairs upended, and the couch cushions ripped open.
Everything from the kitchen cupboards and fridge had been opened and dumped out.
The place was a real mess.
“Where's Oscar?” asked Polly.
“He should have met us at the door.”
She called out his name. “Oscar. Oscar. Come on out. Come on out Oscar.”
There was no response. No Oscar.
“Maybe he's in the back?”
Polly shook her head. “He usually comes when I call.”
“Oscar. Mommie's home. Come on out.”
No response. No Oscar.
Polly started to move around me, but I put my hand out to stop her. “Stay here. Let me go back and check. I'll make sure the coast is clear.”
I walked to the back of the Airstream, checking the closets and the bathroom to make sure no one was hiding. Much like the front, everything had been disturbed. Closets emptied, drawers dumped out.
It was obvious that someone had been looking for something. But it looked like whoever it was, they were long gone.
And so was Oscar.
I returned to the front. “No one's back there, but it's a mess.”
Polly pushed past me, her voice rising. “Oscar? Where are you?”
Buck stood beside me, shaking his head. “This is not right. Breaking in and making this kind of mess.”
Looking around, I noticed a sheet of paper on the kitchen counter with a small black domino sized object on it.
On the paper was a hand written message.
I called out to Polly who had gone to the back of the trailer. “Polly, up here, I need to show you something.”
She came up front, a hopeful look on her face.
“Did you find Oscar?”
“No. Something else. Check out the note.”
I picked up the paper and handed it to her. She read it out loud.
“We got your dog.
We'll trade for the package.
Wait for my call.
No cops.”
Polly's eyes teared up. “They took Oscar.”
I looked at her. “Polly, what's this about? Who are they and what's in the package?”
She walked away from the kitchen counter and started picking up some of the things that had been dumped on the living room floor.
I repeated my question. “Polly, what's this all about?”
She picked up the torn cushions and placed them on the couch. Then she sat down, and patted the seat beside her.
Buck walked over and sat down. He took her hand and said, “It'll be alright. We'll get Oscar back.”
Then he looked up at me.
I righted an overturned chair and pulled it up close to Polly. I leaned toward her and asked, “Polly. Tell me. What's this about?”
She looked around and shook her head.
“It was two months ago. I was out on the houseboat. I'd gone out there with Oscar and we'd spent the night. It was going to be a trial run to see how well we'd do on the boat.
“Things didn't go as planned. A storm came up, the waves got rough, and the boat rocked something fierce. I was afraid we'd get blown off our mooring.
“Oscar got seasick and he was throwing up all over the boat. He wanted to go home – but there was no way with the storm outside.
“It was a real mess. Neither one of us got any sleep.
“Sometime during the night we heard a loud boat anchor nearby. I figured they were just trying to get out of the storm.
&nb
sp; “Then I heard another boat pull up beside the first one. They tied off to each other. We couldn't see much, but we heard voices and it sounded like they were moving things from one boat to the other.
“After about an hour, the smaller boat sped away, and a few minutes later the big one left in the same direction it had come in from.
“The next morning, as we were preparing to go back to shore, I noticed a small package, about the size of a cigar box, floating in the water between the dinghy and the houseboat.
“It was wrapped in plastic and had a number marked on the top.
“I fished the package out of the water, and suspected it was drugs. Before I did anything, I used my cell phone to take a photo. I'm not sure why, but I wanted a photo of the package.
“Then using a filet knife, I cut the package open. It was triple sealed in plastic. And inside there was a compressed brick of what I think was marijuana.”
“I should have called the coast guard right away. Or the sheriff. But I didn't. Oscar was still feeling bad, and I just wanted to get off the boat and get back on dry land.
“So I decided to dump the package back in the water. Cut a few holes in the plastic and let it sink to the bottom.
“But before I did, I took the knife and cut off a small chunk of pot – about an inch off the edge. It was hard work - like sawing through wood.
“I put that small chunk in a plastic bread bag, and stowed it with my gear. The rest I dumped overboard and watched as it sank to the bottom.
“I think that package is what this is all about. They want their pot back.”
Polly leaned forward and put her face in her hands. Sobbing, she said, “They've got Oscar.”
Buck put his arm around her shoulder. “It'll be okay. We'll get Oscar back.”
Looking at me, Buck asked, “How'd they know Polly was the one who found the pot?”
I walked over to the kitchen counter and looked at the small object that had been sitting on top of the handwritten note.
“It's a GPS tracker. Smugglers sometimes use these to keep track of their shipments.
“This one must have been embedded in the piece that Polly cut off.”
Polly nodded. “I found that a week ago. I was worried that Walker was an undercover cop. I didn't want to have the pot here in my trailer.
“So I decided to break it up and toss it in the woods. When I started pulling it apart, that thing fell out.
“I didn't know what it was, so I put it by the sink to look at later.”
I nodded. “Must be activated by light. The sunshine coming in through the window turned it on, and they tracked it here.”
“So what do we do now?” asked Polly.
CHAPTER FORTY
“They said they'd call. So my question is, how do they know your phone number?”
Polly thought for a moment. “Oscar's collar. My phone number is on his collar.”
“Okay. That's good. It might mean they don't know who you are. The GPS tracker led them to the trailer. But they don't know who lives here.”
Polly shook her head. “What if they've been watching the trailer? Waiting for me to leave. They'd know it was me living here.”
“That's possible. But I haven't seen anyone suspicious around here. Have you?”
She shook her head. “No. Except Pony Tail and Spider. Those two guys I told you about.”
“When's the last time you saw them?”
“It's been at least three weeks. But maybe they watch at night, when we're asleep.”
“Could be. But if the GPS tracker didn't activate until a few days ago, it might not be them. Could be someone else.”
Polly and Buck nodded.
I took a deep breath. “No matter who it is, we've got a problem. They want their pot back, and we don't have it.
“That means we've got to stall them long enough to get Oscar back. And then we've got to figure out a way to make them not want their missing pot.”
Polly shook her head. “Walker, you and Buck don't have to get involved in this. It's my fault I'm in this mess and there's no reason to drag you two into it.”
Buck stopped her. “That's not the way it works. You didn't do anything wrong. The guys who did this are at fault. And they're going to pay.
“Tell her Walker.”
“Buck's right. This is not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong. And we're going to take care of it.”
Polly frowned. “But how? How are we going to take care of this? How are we going to get Oscar back?”
I looked at the mess in the trailer. “Polly, give me your phone.”
“Why?”
“Because when they call, I'm going to answer. I'm going to tell them it's my dog, and I want him back.
“I don't figure them to be master criminals. And my guess is all they want is the pot. They think you have it.
“And that gives us some leverage. They'll keep Oscar safe until they get the pot. That gives us the upper hand – at least for a while.”
Polly protested, “It should be me talking to them.”
I shook my head. “No, it shouldn't. If a woman answers, they'll immediately think they have the upper hand. And they may not give us enough time to find Oscar.
“But if I take the call, they won't know who they're dealing with. They might be a bit more flexible. Maybe give us time to find Oscar on our own.”
Buck spoke. “Polly, he's right. Let him take the call.”
Shaking her head, Polly handed me her phone. “Don't make me regret this.”
I wanted to tell her she wouldn't regret it. That we'd get this figured out. That Oscar would be safe, and everything would be settled without any problems.
But I wasn't so sure. I didn't know who we were dealing with or what they might do if things didn't go their way.
So I just said, “I'll do my best.”
Part of doing my best meant working out a plan before the dognapper’s called. I figured it would be easier to do that next door, without Buck and Polly around.
I told them. “I'm going over to my place. I need to check on a few things before they call. I'll come back as soon as I know something.”
Outside, the sun had set and the evening had turned cool. A cold front had pushed down across the state, bringing with it clear skies and a cool breeze from the north.
It was the kind of weather that the snowbirds loved. Cool and no humidity.
I walked the short space separating Polly's Airstream and my motorhome, thinking about how I would handle the call.
Inside my home, things were just as I had left them. Unlike Polly's trailer, it hadn't been touched. Over here, life was good.
Bob came up front to meet me. He trotted over and rubbed his large body against my ankle.
“Yeah Bob, I missed you too. How's your food situation?”
Going back to the bathroom, I checked on his food and water. Everything was full. He'd be happy about that.
Back up front, I got out my laptop computer and set it up on the kitchen table. I powered it up and brought up a Google Earth satellite view of Englewood. I wanted to have this in front of me during the call in case I needed help in seeing different locations the dognappers might mention.
With the satellite view zoomed in on Serenity Cove and a bottle of water to clear my dry throat, I waited for the kidnapper's next move.
It wasn't a long wait.
Polly's phone chimed with an incoming call. No caller ID. I answered on the third ring.
“Hello.”
“We've got your dog.”
“Yeah, I know. I want him back.”
“Good. All we want is the package. We get that, you get the dog.”
“Okay. How do you want to do it?”
“Where's the package?”
“It's not in my trailer.”
“Yeah, we figured that. Where is it?”
“In a safe place.”
“Good. Safe is good.”
“What about Oscar?”
“Who's Oscar?”
“My dog. His name is Oscar. Where is he?”
“He's right here beside me.”
“Has he been harmed?”
“No, he's in good shape.”
“Good. Send me a photo of him to my phone.”
“You don't trust me?”
“I don't know you. You tore up my trailer pretty bad. There was no need for that. So send me a photo of Oscar or the deal is off.”
“Okay, I'll send you a photo. But not until you send me a photo of the package.”
“Hold on.”
I scrolled through the images stored on Polly's phone and found the photo she had taken the day she found the pot. I forwarded it to the caller's phone.
“I just sent it to you. Now send me a photo of Oscar.”
There was silence. Then the male voice on the other end said, “We'll call you back.”
The call ended.
You'd think that now that I had the dognapper’s phone number on my incoming call list, I could use it to track his location.
That can be done. But not nearly as easy as you see on TV. In reality, you either need to have real time access to phone company cell towers, or be a federal spy agency that can hack into the phone company computers and pull the information they want.
But for civilians like me who don't have this kind of access, tracking a phone's location isn't easy - unless the cell phone user has installed a tracking app and provided you with the tracking password.
So while it would have been nice for me to have some magic software on my computer where I could just type in the dognapper’s phone number and get his exact location, I didn't have that option.
But sometimes there is another way to find the location of a cell phone without a warrant or specialized software. All you need is a photo shot with the phone sent to you.
If the phone's camera has geotagging enabled, the photo will have the exact GPS coordinates of where the photo was taken.
And that's what I was hoping to get.
Five minutes after the call with the dognappers ended, Polly's phone indicated a text message had been received.
I clicked on the message, and it opened a photo of Oscar taken a few moments earlier. He appeared to be sleeping on a packing blanket in the back of what looked like a windowless panel van.
