by Bill H Myers
I shook my head. “Not sure where you heard that. But it's not something I can talk about. They made me sign a NDA.”
Kat nodded. “So you found something you weren't supposed to see. And they fired you?”
I smiled. “Like I said, I was laid off. Wasn't fired. That's all I can say about it.”
She nodded again. “I understand. You're not supposed to talk about it. You've been unemployed ever since? No job? No income? Living in a motorhome?”
I nodded. “That pretty much covers it.”
“How do you support yourself?”
I shook my head. “That's not really any of your business.”
She smiled. “If you don't want to tell me, it’s okay. But I have one more question. When it comes to breaking into computers, you're pretty good, right?”
“Yeah, I'm good. Why do you ask?”
Kat looked around like she was checking to make sure no one was listening in on our conversation. She stepped closer and said, “I have an associate who has a computer problem. I'd like you to talk to him, as a favor to me.”
When Kat had taken care of my 'being late for Lori' problem, she'd said I'd get the chance to pay her back before I left the island. I guessed this was that chance.
“Kat, I'd be happy to talk to your friend. But just so we're clear, I'm not going to do anything illegal. If he wants me to break into someone else's computer, count me out.”
She nodded. “I understand. I just want you to talk to this man, see if you can help him. He's done some favors for me and I wanted to repay him if I could. That's all. If you don't want to help, just say so.”
She seemed to be big on repaying favors. Maybe that was the way things worked in her circle of friends. Since it looked like she was including me in that circle, it was time for me for to step up.
“When do you want me to meet with him?”
She pulled out her phone and punched in a number. Someone answered and she said, “He said, 'Yes.' When do you want to meet?”
She nodded. “That'll work. I'll bring him in then.”
She ended the call. “Tomorrow morning, ten thirty. Have your phone turned on. I'm going to call you then. Where do you think you'll be?”
I was pretty sure I wouldn't be working the hot dog stand. One day was enough for me. The girls could work it while I did a little sightseeing. My plan was to visit Mel Fisher's Treasure Museum. I wanted to see and touch the gold bars they'd brought up from the Atocha. The museum was just a few blocks away from Wiener Girl. Close enough for me to get back in a hurry if Eugene or Freddie showed up.
“Tomorrow morning after ten? I'll probably be around here. Maybe at Mel Fisher’s.”
Kat nodded. “Good. I'll be in the neighborhood. And Walker, just so you know, we'll be dealing with someone who doesn't like to be disappointed. Keep your phone charged and answer it when I call. And don't forget about dinner tomorrow night.”
She leaned in, kissed me on the cheek, and walked away. Before I could say anything she was gone.
Our conversation had lasted less than ten minutes. During that time, there had been no customers. This had given us a chance to talk without interruptions.
After she left, I had time to think about what she had asked me to do. She'd talked about computer hacking, breaking into computer systems, and wanted me to meet a man who needed help. A man who she said didn't like to be disappointed.
I wondered who I'd be meeting and what they wanted me to do. I also wondered what would happen if I disappointed them.
With no customers in line and Lori and Summer still missing in action, I busied myself cleaning things up. I checked the hot dog inventory and was surprised to see I had sold most of the all-beef dogs and more than half of the sausage dogs.
By my count, the day's take would be close to six hundred dollars in food and another one fifty in T-shirt sales. About seven fifty total. If this was Kat's daily average, it could mean she was bringing in twenty thousand a month. Not bad for a one-person hot dog stand.
I didn't know how much she paid in rent, utilities or insurance and I didn't know what her food costs were. But with time on my hands, I tried to figure it out.
The sodas probably cost forty cents each if she bought them by the case at Sam’s. Same for the hot dogs and buns. At Sam’s, they'd cost her less than a dollar each. The chips would be forty cents a bag, maybe less. Total food costs for each order would be under two dollars.
That'd mean three dollars profit for each combo sold. If she averaged a hundred sales a day, thirty days a month, her net would be nine thousand dollars. Add in three thousand for T-shirt sales and she'd be making twelve grand. Subtract two thousand for rent and utilities, and she'd have more than nine thousand a month left over. All cash.
If she was making that kind of money, I could see why Freddie would target her. If he did the math like I did, he'd figure she'd be flush. With all that cash on hand, he'd know she'd be able to pay him without feeling any pain.
The problem was she said she wasn't going to pay.
Freddie wasn't going to be happy about that. He'd keep trying to get the money. The longer she held out the more he'd want it. Sooner or later he'd decide to follow her home and take it from her. When that happened, she could get hurt.
That's why someone needed to do something about Freddie.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Lori and Summer showed up around four. They'd been gone for most of the day leaving me to work the food truck and deal with the likes of Eugene.
The first thing Summer asked was, “How’d you do?”
I smiled. “Pretty good. Sold a lot of hot dogs and fifteen shirts. Did an inventory and saw you're running low on water, buns, and drinks. And I had a talk with Eugene.”
“Eugene? He came by? What’d you tell him?”
“I told him you weren't going to pay. He didn't like my answer and pulled a knife.”
“He pulled a knife? Did you get hurt?”
“No, I didn't get hurt and neither did he. I took the knife away and we had a talk. But not before I spilled a little ketchup on his shirt. He thought it was blood and freaked out. But I got him calmed down.”
“So what happened? Is he coming back? Does he still want money?”
I shook my head. “Eugene probably won't be coming back, but someone else from his crew might. And they might be worse than Eugene. So until we get this settled, you need to be careful. Stay at the hotel tonight with Joy and when you're out, watch your back.”
“Are you trying to scare me? Is there something I need to know?”
“No Summer, I'm not trying to scare you. I just want you to understand that there are other people working with Eugene and they plan to take money from you. I'm not worried too much about him. He seems harmless. But I don't know about the other two guys he works with. They might be trouble.”
Summer shook her head. “Maybe I should just pay them. Maybe they'll leave me alone then.”
“No, don't pay them. At least not yet. I'm going to see if I can find Eugene's boss, a guy named Freddie. If I can find him, I'll do my best to persuade him to leave you alone. In the meantime, be careful.”
Lori spoke. “Don't worry. We'll be careful. As soon as Summer closes up today, you can take us to the hotel. Tomorrow Summer and I will work the stand while you look for Eugene or Freddie or whoever.”
She reached into her purse and pulled out a small canister. “I've got my bear spray with me. If anyone bothers us, I'll use it.”
I'd forgotten about the highly concentrated form of pepper spray Lori carried with her. As a veterinarian working with wild animals, she always had it close by, just in case.
A quick shot to the face was supposed to stop a grizzly bear in its tracks. If it could do that, it could probably stop a human—as long as Lori could get it out of her purse in time.
“Maybe you should get some of that spray for Summer. She might need it more than you.”
“Good idea. I'll give her mine and
order some more when we get back home. Now get out of the way so Summer can close out Wiener Girl for the day.”
I stepped out of the trailer and stood outside by Lori as we watched Summer work. She started by dumping the unsold hot dogs into a plastic bag. Then she cleaned the slow cookers and put them away. After that, she wiped down all counters and cleaned the utensils.
With the food taken care of and the counters clean, she closed out the cash register, counted the money, and wrote out a deposit slip. She put the money and the deposit slip in a small bank bag and zipped it up.
With everything taken care of inside the trailer, she closed and locked the panels that covered the front and side windows. She came out the back door and locked it behind her. In one hand she had the plastic bag of unsold hot dogs, in the other the bank bag.
“What are you going to do with the hot dogs?” I asked.
“They go to the food pantry. They'll be serving these tonight.”
“What about the bank bag? You carry that with you after you close?”
“Yeah, I take it over to the night deposit drawer at the bank.”
“You walk there? Alone?”
“Yeah, it's just a few blocks. Why do you ask?”
“It might be dangerous to walk around with all that money. If anyone from Freddie's gang sees you leaving Wiener Girl carrying a bank bag, they might come after you.”
Summer looked around then stuffed the bag under her T-shirt. “Is this better?”
“Yeah, that's better. Don't let anyone see the bag while you're carrying it. Stay on streets where there are lots of people. If someone tries to take the bag from you, don't fight. Just give it to them. When they run off, use your phone to shoot a photo and call the police.”
Summer wasn't smiling. “You're telling me to give them my hard-earned money? Are you crazy?”
“No, I'm not crazy. If you try to fight them, you'll probably get hurt. Eugene pulled a knife on me today. Freddie told him to use it to get the money. If one of his men pulls a knife on you, just give him the money.”
She shook her head. She didn't like my advice. I hoped she would follow it if someone tried to take the bank bag. The money wasn't worth getting hurt over.
With the Wiener Girl trailer locked up, we went across the street and piled into the Prius. Summer and Lori got in the front and I got in the back. Summer said it would be best if she drove, since she knew the way to the food pantry and the night deposit at the bank.
The bank was closest so we went there first. Summer pulled up to the curb, jumped out and dropped the deposit bag into the heavy steel drawer. After putting it in, she opened and closed the drawer twice, making sure the bag had dropped safely into the bank's vault.
After the bank, we went to the food pantry. It was in a nondescript, one-story, white block building on Stock Island. Next to the food pantry was an animal shelter, behind it, a metal roofed Quonset hut, the kind you see on military bases. Several men stood outside the front of it, smoking cigarettes and talking.
A narrow driveway led to a door at the food pantry with a sign that read, “Drop Off Food Here.”
Summer pulled up the door and a white-haired woman pushing a cart came out to greet her. “Summer, good to see you again. What do you have for us today?”
Summer held up the bag filled with the unsold hot dogs. “Hot dogs and sausages. Still warm from the cooker.”
The white-haired woman put the bags on her cart and smiled. “Just what we needed. We were planning on just beans, but now we can have beanie weenie. We're always thankful for everything you bring us. Have a blessed day.”
She waved to me in the back seat and turned to go inside. As she was closing the door behind her, we heard her say, “Look what just came in. Wieners!”
Summer smiled. She felt good about her food donation. We all did.
Before she pulled away from the food pantry building, I pointed to the Quonset hut. “Is that a homeless shelter back there?”
Summer nodded. “Yeah, kind of. They have a hundred cots where the homeless can sleep. But they don't let them stay there during the day. The shelter opens up at seven each evening, and the beds are offered first come first served. In the morning, everyone has to leave.
“Most of the homeless try to get here in time to eat an evening meal at the pantry then they go over and grab a cot for the night at the shelter. The next day, they're back out on the street.
“A lot of these people aren't really homeless. They have jobs they go to every day. But rent is so high around here that they can't afford a place. So they sleep at the shelter.”
I nodded. “Rent's that high?”
“Yes, it is. A one-bedroom studio will go for two thousand a month. A run down mobile home with sagging floors and a leaky roof will go for $1,800 a month—and there'll be people standing in line to get it.
“That's one of the problems about living in the Keys. Everything is expensive. Especially housing.”
We left the food pantry and headed back to Old Town Key West. I was still thinking about the homeless shelter and the expensive rents in the Keys. Lori had something else on her mind. “Walker, Summer and I are thinking about hitting some of the bars on Duval Street tonight. We're going to do some drinking and dancing. You want to join us?”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I didn't want to join them. What I wanted to do was go back to the motorhome, take a long shower and wash off the smell of hot dogs.
After the shower, I wanted to go a quiet restaurant, one that didn't have wieners on the menu, and have a nice meal. I wanted to avoid loud music, large crowds and drunks—not easy to do in Key West after dark.
Rather than tell the girls, I just said, “I'm not much of a drinker or dancer, so I think I'll just go back to the motorhome tonight. You girls go out and have fun. But keep your phones with you just in case you need me to come rescue you.”
Lori laughed. “It'll be the guys we meet that'll need rescuing. Not us.”
I dropped them off at the Ocean Key Resort and headed back to the motorhome. It was still daylight, just after five, and the partying in the campground was just getting started. I parked the Prius in front of the motorhome and went inside.
Bob was waiting for me on the couch. He looked up and yawned, then jumped down and walked over to me. He showed his affection by rubbing his body against my ankles. Then he stopped and sniffed my leg. He looked up at me wondering what the new smell was.
“Yeah Bob, I know, I smell like a hot dog factory. I'm going to go take a shower and see if that will get rid of it.”
I headed back to the bathroom and Bob followed. When we reached his food bowl, he stopped and bumped it with his nose. It made a scraping sound against the floor, his way of telling me his bowl was nearly empty.
I poured him some food, then took a shower, being careful to wash the hot dog smell out of my hair. After the shower I changed into clean clothes and started thinking about dinner.
There are a lot of places to eat in Key West. Even on Stock Island, where Uncle Leo's was, there's no shortage of restaurants. I wouldn't need a map to find food. I could just get in the Prius and drive until I saw a place that looked good.
I gave Bob a pet and told him I'd be back later, and headed out.
Leaving the campground and driving back to Key West, I thought about the food pantry and the homeless shelter. The lady there had said they started serving food around six. It wouldn't be the place I'd want to eat that night, but maybe Eugene would be there.
He had said something about eating at the soup kitchen. Maybe he was talking about the food pantry. If he was, there was a chance I could find him there and maybe learn more from him about Freddie.
I turned the Prius around and headed back toward the food pantry.
When I got there, I figured the safest place to park would be the vacant lot across the street. There were a lot of people milling around the pantry's front door, but no one going in. I tried to see if I could pick ou
t Eugene in the crowd, but didn't have any luck.
I decided to go inside and talk to the lady we'd dropped the food off with earlier. As I made my way to the front door, one of the men standing near it said, “They don't start serving till six. The line starts at the back.”
I smiled and said, “I'm not here to eat,” and kept going.
When I reached the door, I knocked, trying to get the attention of someone inside. After knocking a second time, the same white-haired lady who I saw when we dropped off the food came out. She started to say, “We don't serve until…” but then she recognized me.
“You were here earlier, right? With Summer. And the hot dogs?”
I nodded. “Yeah ma'am, that was me. You have a good memory for faces. Maybe you could help me find someone.”
She smiled. “Please, come in.”
I stepped inside and noticed the large hall was lined with long, wooden tables. All were painted white and had benches in front of them.
Against the back wall was a food serving line. Plastic trays stacked up at the front of the line, stainless steel runners to move the trays along. Behind the glass sneeze guards were large, stainless steel pans filled with steaming vegetables.
“So, you're looking for someone? Is that it?”
“Yes, his name is Eugene and he might be eating here tonight. I thought maybe I could hang around, see if he shows up.”
The lady smiled. “We have a rule about that. We want people who come here to feel safe. We want them to know they won't be bothered by anyone. For that reason, the only people we let in are those who come to eat or those who come to work.
“If you want to eat here tonight, you're welcome to. We're having beanie weenie.”
I'd already had my fill of wieners for the day so eating at the food pantry was not high on my list.
“No thanks, I'm not hungry.”
“Good. That means you'll be helping us put the food out.”
She pointed to a shelf behind her. “You'll need to wear a hat and an apron. Put those on and meet me over there. By the way, my name's Nora. What's yours?”
Before I answered, I thought about what I was getting into. I'd already worked the food truck all day selling hot dogs, and if I stayed here at the pantry, I'd be slinging hash for another few hours. But if that's what it took to find Eugene then that's what I was going to do.
