Mango Key

by Bill H Myers

  I looked at the words painted in blood on the trailer door then over at the T-shirt covering the chicken's body.

  “We need to clean this mess up. Take Summer for a walk and I'll take care of it. She'll probably want to bury Little, so see if you can find a box.

  “When you get back, we'll talk about how we're going to deal with this.”

  Lori went over to Summer and said something to her. Summer looked at me and shook her head. Her body language said she wasn't happy. She came over and pressed her finger into my chest. “You were supposed to solve the problem. But you made it worse. They killed Little. She didn't have anything to do with this, but they killed her anyway.”

  She pulled her finger back and wiped the tears from her eyes. “They think they're going to scare me by doing this? By killing Little? They think this will make me pay? They're wrong. They've made me mad. They're going to be sorry they did this.”

  I nodded. “Summer, I agree with you. They've gone too far. I'm going to find out who did this and we're going to shut them down. ”

  She shook her head. “Don't bother trying to find them. I already know who did it. Eugene. Next time he shows up here, I'm going to gut him.”

  I shook my head. “Summer, it wasn't Eugene. He didn't do this.”

  She looked up at me. “How do you know?”

  I decided to tell her about the note. “I went looking for Eugene last night. Found him at the homeless shelter. I didn't get to talk to him, but he gave me a message.”

  I reached in my pocket and pulled out the note and handed it to her.

  She read it. “Eugene gave you this? When?”

  “Last night. Around eight. At the shelter.”

  “You talked to Eugene last night?”

  “No, I was working the serving line at the food pantry when he came through. I didn't get to talk to him but he left me this note.

  “I think he knew something was going to happen and wanted me to know he didn't have anything to do with it. He probably knows who did it.”

  Summer looked up at me. “You worked at the food pantry last night? You went back there after working here all day?”

  “Yeah, I was hoping to find Eugene. I figured he might show up there. Nora put me to work on the serving line.”

  A smile crept across Summer's face. “Nora put you to work? That sounds like something she would do. I wish I could have been there to see it.”

  She looked around. “They're not going to scare me off. They're not going to put me out of business. I'm going to open up today like I normally would. But we need to clean up this mess first.”

  I was glad to hear that. The shock of her seeing the blood and finding Little's body was wearing off.

  I pulled out my phone and shot photos of the blood trail, the message on the trailer door, and Little's body. I wanted to have evidence in case things escalated.

  We spent the next hour cleaning up. Summer got a hose from the restaurant next door and we used it to wash down the trailer door and wash away the bloody trail.

  She found a sturdy cardboard box and placed Little's body in it. I offered to take the box and bury it, but she said, “No, you can't bury anything in Key West. The ground is mostly coral. Too hard to dig a hole. I'll take care of this. Give me the car keys.”

  I gave her the keys, and she took off, leaving Lori and me to guard the trailer.

  “Think she'll be okay?” I asked.

  Lori nodded. “I think so. It's just that seeing all the blood and the dead chicken was such a shock for her. This hot dog stand is her livelihood and she felt violated when she saw what was done. She'll get over it, but not until we take care of the Eugene problem. I'm hoping you can do that, but if you can't, we'll figure something out. Either way, I'm staying in Key West until we get this mess resolved. If you want to take the motorhome and go back to Englewood, you can, but I'm staying here with my sister until this is settled.”

  I nodded. “Lori, I'm staying too. We came down here to help your sister and that's what we're going to do. We're not leaving until this problem is taken care of.”

  She nodded in agreement and we got back to work cleaning things up. After a few minutes, she said, “You could live in Key West if you wanted to. There's nothing really keeping you in Englewood. You could be down here full time, living the Key West lifestyle.”

  I nodded. “I guess I could. But I think all the tourists would drive me crazy. If I lived here, I'd want it to be like it was fifty years ago. When Buck lived around here. When fishing and treasure hunting were the only reasons people came. Not like now, when people come to Key West mainly to get drunk and party.”

  Lori nodded. “Speaking of Buck, have you talked to him lately? I haven't seen him since we had dinner two nights ago. I figured he'd at least drop by and get a hot dog or two.”

  “I haven't seen him either. He's probably just hanging out with old friends. But if you want, I can call and check up on him.”

  Lori nodded. “Might be a good idea to call him. Let him know what happened. He supposedly knows people in Key West who can help solve problems when you don't want to get the police involved. This might be one of those times.”

  I nodded. “You're right. Buck will want to know about this. I'll call him tonight.”

  Lori changed the subject and started telling me about the clubs they had gone to the night before. Being a local, Summer knew places only the locals knew about, and those were the places they went to. Lori was telling me about one of these places when I looked up and saw Summer heading our way. She had changed into clean clothes and had a smile on her face.

  When she got closer, she asked, “You ready to sell some hot dogs?”

  I was hoping she wasn't asking me. I'd already done my time being the Wiener Girl. Today was Lori's turn.

  I was about to tell her that when my phone rang. The caller ID said, “Kat.” I walked a few steps away and answered.

  “Hey Kat, what's going on?”

  “Walker, where are you?”

  “At Wiener Girl.”

  “Good, stay there. I'll pick you up at the curb in three minutes.”

  I ended the call and turned to Lori and Summer. They were both smiling.

  Lori spoke first. “So Walker, who was that?”

  “Kat. She's picking me up.”

  “Where's she taking you? Is it a date?”

  “No, it's not a date. It's business.”

  “Business huh? Funny business?”

  Before I could answer, Kat pulled up and double parked at the curb in front of Wiener Girl. She beeped her horn and waved for me to join her.

  I waved back and turned to Lori. “I'm going to be gone for a couple of hours. Summer has the keys to the Prius. If you two need to go anywhere, take it. If Eugene or anyone else comes by and creates a problem, call me immediately.”

  Instead of waiting for them to ask questions, I walked to the curb and got into the white Prius Kat was driving. As soon as I closed the door, she said, “You've got blood on your shirt. What happened?”

  “Someone messed with the hot dog stand last night. Killed a chicken. I helped Summer clean it up. Nothing for you to worry about.”

  “They messed with Wiener Girl? Is Summer okay?”

  “She's fine. She wasn't there when it happened. But she saw the blood and read the message. It scared her.”

  “They left a message? What'd it say?”

  “Don't worry about it. It's something I plan to take care of later.”

  Kat wasn't going to let it go. “Walker, listen to me. If someone is messing with Wiener Girl and you're involved then it involves me. Tell me what the message said.”

  I hesitated, not sure whether I sure tell Kat or not. But she seemed worried about Summer, so I told her. “You're next. They wrote it in blood on the trailer door. You're next.”

  Kat shook her head. “That's doesn't sound good. You'll have to tell me more about this later. Right now, I'm taking you to meet a very important man and I
don't want you to walk in with blood on your shirt. You have clean clothes in your motorhome?”

  “I do.”

  “Good, that's where we're going. When we get there, change as fast as you can. We can't afford to be late for this meeting.”

  I nodded. I was happy we were going back to the motorhome. I needed to pick up my laptop. It had the software tools I might need to solve the man's computer problem. In the rush to leave after Lori's call, I'd forgotten to take the laptop with me.

  Ten minutes later, we pulled up in front of the motorhome. I figured Kat would wait in the car while I went inside to change clothes, but she didn't. She followed me in; all the way to the back bedroom.

  “You going to watch me change?”

  “Yeah, I am. You have a problem with that?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  She walked over to my closet, sorted through the shirts and picked out a light blue one. “Wear this.”

  While I was putting on the shirt, she continued to look through my closet.

  “You have any belts?”

  “Yeah, top row, far right.”

  I could hear her sliding hangers across the clothes rod until she found the belt.

  “This the only one?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Put it on. Then we're leaving.”

  After I put the belt on, we headed for the door. On the way out, I grabbed a bottle of water and the laptop. I locked the motorhome behind me. Kat got in on the driver's side and I got in on the passenger.

  She pointed at the clock on the dash. “We've got ten minutes. Buckle up and hold on.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Pulling out of Uncle Leo's, I expected Kat to turn left and head back to Key West. But instead, she turned right and headed north.

  “Where we going?”

  “Mango Key. Ten minutes up the road. When we get there, we'll go through the gate and then up to the house. Leave your phone in the car.

  “The man we're meeting is my father. In his presence, you will refer to me as Katrina. Never as Kat. Show him respect and don't ask questions about his business. Got it?”

  I nodded. “So we're going to meet your father? Does he know about us?”

  Kat shook her head. “See, that kind of joking will get you in trouble. There is no 'us'. Don't even pretend there is when you're around him. Be respectful and be careful what you say. Understand?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I understand. No joking around. No questions and be careful what I say.”

  “Good. Do that and you just might live through this.”

  When we pulled up to the gate house at Mango Key, Kat rolled down her window and smiled at the guard. He looked in the car and saw me. “One guest today, Miss Katrina?”

  “Yes, Tony. Just one. He'll be leaving when I leave.”

  “Very good.”

  The guard stepped back into the gate house, entered a few keys on his computer and the gate slowly rolled open.

  Kat pulled through the open gate and followed the road as it wound past several large homes, most set far off the road. Unlike the homes in Key West, the ones on Mango Key were on estate sized lots, spaced far apart and looked new and very expensive.

  We continued on until the road ended at a circular drive. At the back of the circle stood a heavy, wrought iron gate, painted black and bolted to concrete pillars on either side. A tall stone wall extended in both directions away from the gate blocking the view of the property beyond. A surveillance camera mounted on top of one of the pillars pointed in our direction. Whoever built this place valued their privacy.

  Kat pulled up to the gate, pulled out a remote and entered a six digit code. A tiny light on the top of the gate flickered red then turned green. The gate slowly began to open. When it was wide enough for the Prius, Kat pulled through and stopped on the other side. She turned to me and said, “Walker, from here on in, be on your best behavior.”

  Without waiting for my reply, she punched the gas and we headed down a narrow road. Tightly spaced palms and palmettos lined both sides of the road blocking the view of what lay beyond. The road continued for a hundred yards and then curved to the right where it opened onto expansive resort like grounds.

  In the center of the property stood a large, three-story, Mediterranean style home. Its white walls starkly contrasted with its blood red, barrel tile roof. To the left of the main house was a smaller home, presumably the guest house. To the right a seven car garage. Behind the main house lay the emerald green waters of the Gulf of Mexico and the Atlantic Ocean.

  Three cars were parked in front of the garage. A white Lexus LX470, a white Mercedes Sprinter Van, and a white Prius like the one we were in. Kat pulled up next to the Prius and parked. She turned to me. “Leave your phone and computer here. We're going down to the boathouse. Try to behave.”

  She got out of the car and I followed as she led me along a path that skirted the main house, through a garden area and down to the water and a boathouse. Docked next to it was a fifty-foot Hatteras.

  The boathouse, painted white with the same kind of blood red tile roof as the main house, was impressive. It was larger than many of the homes we'd seen in Key West and looked to be more solidly built. Lights inside suggested someone was waiting for us.

  As we made our way down, a man stepped out to greet us. Well dressed, clean shaven, close cut, gray hair. He looked to be about sixty and in excellent health. He smiled when he saw Kat and welcomed her with open arms.

  “Katrina, I'm so glad you made it. Your mother will be happy to see you. Before you go talk to her, please introduce your guest.”

  The man was polite, but he was sending Kat away.

  She turned to me. “Father, this Walker. He's the computer guy I told you about. Walker, this is my father, Boris Chesnokov.”

  “Mr. Chesnokov, nice to meet you.”

  “And you as well. But please, call me Boris. All my friends do. Including Buck, who I think you know. He's inside waiting for us.”

  When Boris turned to go into the boathouse, Kat smiled at me and mouthed the words, “Be careful,” then she turned and walked away. She was leaving me with her father and presumably Buck, who was already inside.

  I followed Boris in. Buck was sitting in a leather recliner, drink in hand. He smiled. “Walker, good to see you again. How's Key West treating you?”

  “Pretty good so far. You doing okay?”

  He nodded. “I am. Thanks to Boris' hospitality. I couldn't ask for better accommodations. How about Lori? How's she doing?”

  I hesitated, not sure how to answer. With Boris in the room, I didn't want to talk about the problem at Wiener Girl. So I said, “She and her sister are having a great time. Yesterday they had me run the hot dog stand while they went out shopping. Last night, they went out dancing.”

  I took a deep breath. “They did run into a problem this morning, something you'll want to know about. I'll fill you in later.”

  I turned my attention to Boris, who had taken a seat behind a large, mahogany desk in the center of the room. Behind him, a picture window looked out over the water. There were islands in the distance with a few small boats anchored around them.

  “So Boris, how can I help you?”

  He pointed to a chair in front of his desk indicating he wanted me to sit. I took the hint and found the chair quite comfortable.

  “Walker, before we get started I want you to know that everything I tell you today is confidential. It doesn't leave this room. You will share this with no one. You understand?”

  “Yes, I understand. Whatever you tell me stays between us.”

  “Good.”

  He slid a manila envelope across his desk.

  “Look inside.”

  I picked up the envelope and opened it. There were three sheets of paper inside. The first had a printed list of computer files with file name, creation date and file size.

  The second was an ink-jet photo of Boris sitting at his desk in the boathouse.


  The third was an email message. It said:

  If you want these files to stay secret, send $3,374 in cash to PO Box 2744, Noxapater, MS within ten days.

  If money not received, files will be made public.

  The email was unsigned.

  I looked up at Boris. “Is this for real? Because it sure looks like a prank. I mean what kind of hacker asks you to send money to a P.O. box in Mississippi?”

  Boris wasn't smiling. “It's real. The list of files? They're from my computer. That photo of me sitting at my desk? That's real too. And recent.

  “The address in Mississippi? I had an associate check it out. It's a mail drop. Mail sent there is forwarded to another address. We're working on finding out where it goes, but so far no luck. So, yes, it's real.”

  I nodded. “The files on the list? Are they on more than one computer?”

  Boris shook his head. “No. They're only on my laptop. Nowhere else.”

  “Where's your laptop now?”

  “It's here. In this desk. I haven't turned it on since this email came in.”

  “Good. Do you have internet out here in the boathouse?”

  He nodded. “I do.”

  “Is it wireless? Can you connect to it without having to hook up a cable to your computer?”

  He nodded again. “Yes. It's wireless. Same as in the house, the guest house and the garage.”

  “What about anti-virus? You have virus protection on your computers?”

  “Yes. All of them. It's supposed to be the best.”

  “How about security cameras? I saw one at the gate. Any others and are they connected wirelessly?

  Boris pointed to the wall behind me. I turned and saw a small camera in the corner mounted near the ceiling.

  “We've got a camera in here, one at the gate, another one in the garage, and two in the main house. They're wired into our network. I can watch them on my computer, my phone and TV.”

  I tapped the page with the list of computer files. “Let's assume this is not a prank. To get this list of files, someone either planted a virus on your computer or hacked into your network. If it were just the file list, I'd say it was a virus. But this photo, to get that, they'd have to tap into your security camera. That means they've gained access to your network.