by Bill H Myers
I smiled. “I have a meeting with Agent Hull.”
She nodded. “Your name?”
“Walker.”
She checked her computer then turned to a phone console and punched in a number. She whispered something into her headset, then turned back to me. “He'll be right out.”
Three minutes later, Agent Hull, aka 'Vincent', dressed in black slacks, a clean, white shirt and a thin, blue tie, pushed open a door on our right and joined us. At first I wasn't sure this was the same man I'd seen meeting with Freddie. The clothes were different; the hair was different; his entire demeanor had changed.
But when he spoke, his voice gave him away.
He looked at me, then Buck. “Which one of you is Walker?”
I smiled. “I am.”
“Good, follow me.”
He stepped back through the doorway and I followed through. Buck tried to follow as well, but Hull stopped him. “I only need to talk to Walker. You can wait out here for him.”
Buck shook his head. “No, that's not the way it works. I'm going where Walker goes. If I don't go, he doesn't either.”
Hull looked at Buck. “You look familiar. Do I know you?”
Buck smiled. He was used to this. Millions of people had seen his movies and were familiar with his face. But that was back when he was young. Now that he was older, people had a hard time placing him. That didn't bother him. Oftentimes it worked in his favor. While people were trying to figure out who he was, they'd be careful about what they said or did for fear of offending if he turned out to be someone important.
Buck was hoping it would be that way with Agent Hull. He smiled and said, “You probably know who I am. It'll come to you in a minute.”
Buck stepped past him into the hallway where I was waiting. This time, Hull didn't stop him. He probably figured it wasn't worth his time arguing about whether Buck could join in the meeting or not.
He turned and led us down a long hallway. Pictures of current and past sheriffs lined the wall. At the end of the hall, we took a left and entered a small office. It was tight, just barely enough room for a government issue gray metal desk, two file cabinets and three chairs. One behind the desk and two in front.
Hull took his seat behind the desk, Buck and I took the seats in front of it. They weren't very comfortable.
“OK, tell me again. Which one of you is Walker?”
I raised my hand.
“And this guy with you, who's he?”
Buck smiled. “You still don't recognize me, do you? I'll give you a hint. You ever see the movie Bobby and the Bandito?”
Hull thought for a moment then a look of recognition spread across his face. “I know who you are. You're famous. You were in all those car movies. What are you doing here?”
Smiling, Buck said, “My good friend Walker here thought it might be a good idea to have me listen in on your conversation. That way, there'd be no confusion about what was said. You don't mind me being here, do you?”
Hull shook his head. “No, I don't mind. We're just going to talk, that's all.”
“Good. What do you want to talk to Walker about?”
Hull pointed to me. “He says he has photos of two female kidnap victims. And a photo of the guy who might have taken them. I'd like to see them.”
Buck looked at me and nodded. He was giving me the go ahead to show the photos.
I pulled the printouts from underneath my shirt and handed Hull the two that showed Freddie and the girls. After looking at them, he asked, “When were these taken?”
I smiled. “Yesterday and today.”
“Today? When?”
I reached under my shirt and pulled out the third printout, the one showing Vincent, aka Agent Hull. I slid it across the desk to him. “I took these this morning. When you met with Freddie. When he told you about his plan to kill me. You do remember that, don't you?”
Hull looked at the photo then back at me. “Why are you taking photos of me and Freddie? You a Fed?”
I shook my head. “No, I'm not a federal agent. I'm just a regular guy trying to find the people harassing the owner of the Wiener Girl food truck. That led me to Freddie. He told me you're the one causing the trouble. I did a little more research and overheard you and Freddie talking about two girls that were kidnapped. I also heard you and him plotting to kill me.
“I recorded the conversation if you want to hear them. But honestly, hearing the two of you talking about killing me kind of makes me feel bad. How's it make you feel? The talk about killing me?”
Hull didn't answer. Instead, he picked up his phone, punched in a number and said, “We have a problem with the case.”
Two minutes later, an older man with close cut salt and pepper hair, dressed in black pants, white shirt and black tie, stepped into Hull's office. He looked at me then at Buck then at Agent Hull. “How bad is it?”
Hull pointed at me. “This guy overheard me and Freddie this morning. He has an audio recording of our meeting and photos. He knows I'm FBI working undercover. I don't know if he's told Freddie or not, but if he has or does, everything we've been working on for the past six months is going to blow up.”
The older agent nodded. “We don't want that to happen. Find out if they'd told him and tell them what happens if they mess up our case. Then either lock them up or let them go. Your decision.”
He left the room.
“Okay guys, here's what I need to know. What have you told Freddie? Does he know I'm working undercover or that the FBI is investigating him?”
He was looking at me, so I answered his question. “I haven't told him anything. I only met him yesterday and we only talked Wiener Girl. I didn't know about you until we walked in here a few minutes ago. If he knows anything about the investigation, he didn't learn it from me or Buck.”
Hull seemed satisfied with my answer. He picked up a thick folder and dropped it on his desk.
“We've been working on this for six months now, and we've almost got it wrapped up. The person you know as Freddie is part of our investigation. A small but key part. We don't want to lose him, but obviously we can't let him kill you.
“So when he calls you about meeting him at the marina tomorrow, tell him you'll be there. But don't show up. In fact, don't go anywhere near the marina or Freddie. Don't call Freddie. Don't talk to him, don't meet him anywhere and don't talk to his friends. If you do, we'll arrest you for interfering with a federal investigation and you don't want us to do that.
“I repeat. Stay away from Freddie. The only time you talk to him is when he calls about meeting him at the marina for the boat ride. Tell him you'll be there and then end the call. Don't tell him anything else. And just so you know, we're monitoring his calls so we'll know what you say.
“Keep in mind, this is a Federal investigation. If you tip him off or do anything to interfere, you'll spend a few years behind bars. Don't worry about his daughters. Our people are watching them and will return them to their mother later on this week.
“Any questions?”
I looked at Buck. He shook his head. Neither of us had questions. We just wanted to get out of there.
“Good. So we have an understanding. You're not going to say or do anything to interfere with our investigation. If you do, you'll both go to jail.”
He stood and pointed at the door. “Leave.”
Chapter Fifty
Outside, it was still raining. There were puddles in the parking lot and we dodged them as we ran for the Prius. It wasn't raining hard but enough to get us wet.
Inside the car, Buck spoke first. “I'm surprised they let us go. I figured they'd want to keep us overnight to make sure you didn't say anything to Freddie.”
“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. Having you there helped. If I'd gone in there alone, they probably would have kept me. But with you as a witness they had to be careful.”
Buck grunted. I figured he was agreeing with me.
I started the Prius and headed back to the
marina where we'd left the motorhome. It was a short drive. Less than three hundred yards. Being that it was raining, not many people were visiting the marina and the parking lot was nearly empty, including the spot where we'd left the motorhome.
Buck looked at me. “Isn't this where it was parked?”
I nodded. “Yeah, it is.”
I pulled out my phone and punched in Kat's number. After seven rings she answered. She didn't say hello or ask why I was calling. She just said, “Can't talk now. I'll call you right back.”
She ended the call.
Her voice sounded panicky; I could hear the rumble of the motorhome's motor in the background. She was definitely driving it.
“What'd she say?”
“She said she was driving and would call right back.”
“Did she say where she was?”
“No, she just said she was driving.”
My phone chimed with an incoming call. Caller ID showed Kat.
“Kat, what's going on? Why'd you take the motorhome?”
She was breathing hard, like she'd been running. She caught her breath and said, “I got bored. Decided to go pick up Summer and Lori. On the way I saw a white school bus heading north, towing the Wiener Girl trailer. Summer hadn't said anything about moving her trailer, so I decided to follow, see where it was going.
“I was going the other way so I had to turn the motorhome around. It wasn't easy, but I did it. I tried to catch up with the trailer but there was a bunch of cars in front of me and no way I could get around. Sitting up high in the motorhome I could see the bus over the tops of the cars.”
She took a breath. “I stayed with them until they turned off at Bat Tower Road. It's a dead end, so I didn't follow. I kept going and pulled into the first parking lot I saw. At Sugar Loaf Resort. That's where I am now.”
“Are you sure it was the Wiener Girl trailer? Not another one that looked like it?”
“I'm sure. It had the Wiener Girl logo on the front.”
“Did you call Summer and tell her?”
“Not yet. I was driving your motorhome in the rain, both hands on the wheel, trying to keep it on the road. I haven't had a chance to call anyone but you. As soon as you hang up, I'm calling her.”
“Do that. But don't go anywhere in the motorhome. We're heading that way; we'll be there in five minutes.”
I ended the call and told Buck what she'd said.
He shook his head. “It doesn't make sense. Why would anyone steal a hot dog trailer? Can't be worth much and wouldn't be easy to hide. Did Kat say they were towing it with a school bus?”
“Yeah. A white one. Like the one Freddie said he's living in.”
My phone chimed with another incoming call. The caller ID showed “Marine Sat.”
I answered, remembering what Agent Hull had told me.
“This is Walker.”
“Yeah, this is Freddie. You still want to talk to Vincent?”
“I do. You know where I can find him?”
“He's living on a boat, just offshore. If you want, I can take you out there in the morning. ”
So this was Freddie's plan to get me out on his boat. I needed to play along.
“You'll take me out there to meet him? In your boat?”
“Yeah, I'll take you out there in my boat.”
“Good. When and where do you want to meet?”
“Ten in the morning. At the marina.”
“I'll be there.”
I ended the call and turned to Buck.
“That was Freddie. You heard what I said?”
“I heard. The feds should be pleased.”
My phone chimed again. Caller ID said “Kat.”
I answered. “What'd Summer say?”
“She said no one is supposed to move her trailer. It's part of her lease. The trailer is grandfathered in at that location. If it's moved and gone for more than twenty-four hours, she can't legally move it back. Her lease expires and someone else gets the space. She said we have to get it back before someone alerts the city zoning office. If they check and it's not there, she loses her business.”
Summer had never said anything about her lease or how she'd been able to get such a prime location in Key West. Maybe this was what the harassment had been about all along. It wasn't her money they were after, it was the little bit of land her trailer was sitting on. In Key West, where rents are sky high, that little piece of land could be quite valuable.
Apparently, someone wanted Wiener Girl gone so they could take over her space. It might be Freddie or someone he worked for. Right now, it didn't matter. What mattered was getting the trailer back in its spot before the zoning commissioners realized it was gone. If we couldn't do that, Summer would be out of luck.
It took us less than five minutes to reach the Sugar Loaf parking lot. When we pulled in, I was happy to see the motorhome was there and in one piece. We parked and went in using the side door. Kat was sitting in the driver's seat, phone to her ear. She motioned for us to be quiet, like she didn't want whoever was on the other end to know we were there.
The person on the other end was doing most of the talking. Kat just listened and nodded. Finally, she said, “Okay, I'll let her know.”
When the call ended, she turned to us and said, “That was our head of security. He said they had been told to watch the Wiener Girl trailer, but only at night. They weren't supposed to be there during the day. When they left this morning, the trailer was still there.
“Apparently someone took it after they were gone. The security cameras would have recorded everything, except we can't get the footage because the recorder is inside the trailer. We won't be able to view the video and see who took it until we get the trailer back. Any idea how we're going to do that?”
She was looking at me when she asked the question. She knew we needed to get the trailer back and knew we needed to do it quickly. She just wondered how we were going to do it.
Bat Tower road was a dead end. Only one way in and one way out. First thing we needed to do was make sure the only way the trailer left Bat Tower road was with us.
“To get the trailer, we need something to tow it with. The motorhome could do it but not in the rain. It's too heavy. It'd get stuck back there in the mud and we wouldn't be able move it or the trailer.
“We've got the Prius, it can't tow anything, but we can use it to block the road. I can take it in there and put it sideways in the road, and if he tries to leave with the trailer, it'll stop him.
“But we still need to find someone who has a big truck with a trailer hitch. Kat, you're local, you know anybody?”
She smiled. “I do. Let me make a call.”
She punched a number into her phone and when it connected she said, “Dad, can I borrow your truck?”
“Yeah, I need it now. Good. I'll be right over.”
She ended the call.
“Dad has a truck he uses in one of his businesses. It's a one-ton dually with a heavy duty hitch. They've been using it to pull big boats around, so it shouldn't have any problem towing the trailer. I'm going to go get it now.”
We were still inside the motorhome, parked in the Sugar Loaf lot. Kat started for the door but I stopped her. “What are you going to drive? You can't take the Prius. I need it to block the road. ”
She smiled. “No problem. I'll take the motorhome. I still have the keys.”
She reached into her purse. “You need a gun?”
I shook my head. “No, I don't need a gun. The Prius is all I need. I'm leaving.”
I headed for the door but Buck stopped me.
“I'm going with you.”
“No, you're not. You stay with Kat. Make sure she doesn't crash the motorhome or run off with Bob.”
The truth was I wasn't worried about the motorhome or Bob. I was worried about Buck. He was over seventy and even though he was in great shape for his age, I didn't want to put him in a situation where he might get hurt. The chances were good we'd meet up with Freddie o
n Bat Tower Road and if he pulled a gun and Buck got shot or worse, it'd be my fault. I didn't want that.
Buck wasn't having any of it. He said, “Walker, we're wasting time standing here talking. I'm going with you and that's that.”
He stepped out of the motorhome, walked over to the Prius and got in on the passenger side. He closed the door and tapped the horn, telling me to join him. He knew I had no choice. He knew that every minute we wasted not blocking Bat Tower Road gave Freddie a chance to escape. With that in mind, I joined him in the car and we headed out.
It took us three minutes to reach Bat Tower Road. I'd been down it before in the motorhome and knew what to expect. The first half mile was paved, after that it was dirt and potholes all the way to the bat tower.
When we reached the dirt part, I slowed the Prius, expecting to see tracks or ruts left in the wet sand by the heavy bus that Freddie had been driving. But there weren't any.
“Buck, there are no tracks. Kat said she saw the bus come down this road. There should be tracks.”
“You're right. There should be tracks. Maybe the bus didn't come this way.”
He looked back over his shoulder. “There was a turn off back there. On our left. He could have taken it. We need to go check.”
I took a deep breath, turned the Prius around and headed back the way we'd come, driving slowly so I wouldn't miss the turn Buck had mentioned.
He saw it first.
“Up there, just beyond the bushes, take a right.”
It was easy to miss, especially if you weren't looking for it. A gap in the bushes that opened up to a narrow, one-lane road just barely wide enough for a car. When we reached it, the tracks suggested something heavy had just traveled down it. We followed, hoping they'd lead us to Freddie's Bus.
About a hundred yards down the road, a small sign on our left said, “Skydive Key West.” Just beyond the sign, a steel cable had been unlocked and placed on the ground. The wet tire tracks passed over the cable.
Just beyond, the road curved to the right and overgrown bushes blocked our view. Not knowing what was ahead or how close we were to Freddie's bus, I decided it was a good time to stop and put the Prius in stealth mode. This was something Kat had shown me when she was telling me how to drive the car. By pressing the EV button on the dash, the Prius would turn off the gas motor and run on full battery power. We wouldn't be able to travel very fast or very far in EV mode, but we'd be able to travel in total silence. This might give us an edge should someone be waiting for us just ahead.
