Key Raiders

by Matt Lincoln

  “Yeah, I’m not going to be shedding any tears for the likes of him any time soon,” Holm said, shaking his head. “So we have to figure out where Lafitte’s ship came from while we’re down here now, don’t we?”

  “That still isn’t even on my radar,” I said, shaking my head, though I wasn’t entirely honest when I said this. “Or at least it shouldn’t be. Birn. Birn is our priority. Once we figure out where he is and get him back, then we can worry about everything else.”

  “I mean, yeah, you’re not wrong about that,” Holm said, flashing me a lopsided grin. “But how great would it be to solve this mystery, too, while we’re at it?”

  “It would be great,” I admitted, forcing myself to push away the thought. “But we can’t let that clog up our attention right now. Birn’s what matters. Everything else is secondary. I’m not even going to let myself fantasize about the rest of it right now.”

  “Of course, you’re right,” Holm said, nodding to me. “Good night.”

  “Good night,” I said, opening the hotel room door and disappearing behind it.

  Once inside, I quickly texted Penny, the woman from the sailboat, asking if she wanted to meet me for dinner the following night. She responded quickly, saying she would love to, and I couldn’t help but smile as I fell asleep.

  15

  Ethan

  The next morning, I met Holm and Muñoz down in the lobby, where the hotel employees set out a delicious breakfast spread of every breakfast-related food I could think of under the sun, and then some. I had to stop and blink at all the silver catering containers lining the side of the wall underneath the underwater photos before becoming overwhelmed by choice and just settling for some cereal and an apple. It was still good, though, with locally sourced organic milk.

  Holm and Muñoz were already sitting at a small table up against a window with a perfect view of the sandy beach below, and I made my way over to them with cereal, apple, and coffee in hand.

  “Really?” Holm asked through a mouthful of cream-filled crepes covered in some kind of gooey red sauce as he watched me sit down, his eyes lingering on my bowl. “Corn flakes? That’s what you’re going with, Marston?”

  “The paradox of choice is real,” I chuckled, settling in next to the window across from my partner and diagonal from Muñoz. “Besides, we have a lot of work to do today. I don’t want to end up in a sugar coma.”

  “Is that supposed to be a jab at me or something?” Holm asked, winking at me as he smeared butter all over his crepes.

  Muñoz and I both chuckled.

  “Well, you did lose your lunch on our mission in Haiti, if I do recall,” I pointed out, thinking back to when Holm and I had first seen an overdose victim of the zombie powder drug. It was a grisly sight, to say the least, and my partner had reacted accordingly.

  “Did you really?” Muñoz asked, her eyes bugging out a bit in glee at this revelation.

  “Hey, I was far from the only one who had that reaction,” Holm said, jabbing his fork in my direction and sending little drops of syrup and butter flying everywhere in the process.

  “You were the only one from MBLIS,” I chuckled, leaning forward over my bowl and starting on my boring old corn flakes, which I was perfectly happy with.

  “Ah, yes, you with the stomach of steel,” Holm laughed, rolling his eyes.

  “Must be all those corn flakes,” Muñoz said, flashing me a grin, and I was glad to see that she seemed to be in better spirits today. She was eating, as well, sporting a large bowl of oatmeal and fruit paired with some coffee and orange juice.

  “Did you sleep?” I asked her.

  “Well enough, thank you,” she said, giving me a curt nod. “Better than nothing, I suppose.”

  “Very true,” I said, taking a bite out of my apple.

  “I was just telling Muñoz here about our conversation with that bartender last night,” Holm said, changing the subject from his own eating habits.

  “Ah, yes,” Muñoz said. “I didn’t think to talk to him. I was focused more on the locals outside of the hotel. Leave it to the two of you to figure out how to get information out of an old bartender.”

  “He wasn’t that old, actually,” I chuckled. “Probably younger than us, anyway. And you’d be surprised at how knowledgeable some of these guys can be. They see and hear a lot.”

  “They also tend to be characters, and this one was no exception,” Holm said with a low laugh. “Chasing trash on the beach. My lord.” He shook his head and took another chunk out of his crepes.

  “Yeah, he was a bit of an oddball,” I admitted. “Seemed to have a good head on his shoulders, though, even if he was a bit of a ‘get off my lawn’ type.”

  “I don’t exactly begrudge him that,” Holm admitted. “If someone from out of town was throwing trash all over my hometown and refusing to pick it up, I wouldn’t exactly be happy, either.”

  “Nor would I,” I admitted, shaking my head. “Though I might express it a little differently than running around screaming at them.”

  “Alright, you all are going to have to explain what you’re talking about,” Muñoz cut in, shaking her head in confusion. “I’m lost.”

  “Right, sorry,” I said, and then Holm and I launched into an explanation of everything the bartender had told us about these strange people staying on the south shore of the island for the past couple of months.

  “Interesting,” Muñoz said when we finished, nodding slowly as she finished off what remained of her orange juice. “I’m not sure what to make of all that. It could just be a lot of noise from a ‘get off my lawn’ type, as you said, Ethan, but paired with what that Navy woman told us, it’s hard to dismiss it all out of hand. We should probably go down there today and take a look around.”

  “Agreed,” I said with a nod to her. “Though I vote for heading down to the police station first. Nick—that’s the bartender’s name—said he might go down there this morning to complain to them some more, and I gave him my card.”

  “I’d kind of like to witness that interaction,” Holm jutted in with a chuckle.

  “I can’t say I disagree,” I laughed, giving him a small smile. “But anyway, it’s good to keep the local police in the loop. They’re the last ones we want to alienate on a mission, especially one as important as this, where we’re missing one of our own. We haven’t interviewed your witness either, Muñoz. I’d like to do that, too.”

  “Just as long as you know he’s a bit of a dweeb,” Muñoz sighed, rolling her eyes. “I doubt he knows anything, but you’re more than welcome to give it a whirl.”

  “Maybe he knows something about the ship, at least,” Holm offered with a shrug, and I shot him a stern look in two seconds flat.

  “The what?” Muñoz asked vaguely, looking between us. “You’re not going off about that stupid pirate ship of yours again, are you, Ethan?”

  “Stupid pirate ship?” Holm repeated, his jaw hanging open, slack. “For your information, that ship could well make Marston here a very rich man.”

  “Okay, okay,” I said, holding up my hands in the middle of the small marble table before either of them could say anything more. “We’re getting off track here, I think.”

  “Right, that’s not the ship we’re talking about,” Holm said, clearly not getting my meaning at all. “The bartender, Nick, said that he overheard a guy we think was Clifton Beck bragging about finding Lafitte’s ship a couple of months back in the bar.”

  “Clifton Beck?” Muñoz repeated, shaking her head in confusion, still not following this line of conversation.

  “She wasn’t on that case, remember?” I asked Holm, more than a little exasperated with my partner at this point. “Clifton Beck was the drug kingpin we took down in New Orleans, the one who told me he found Lafitte’s ship here in the Keys right before he died, so we weren’t able to question him more about it afterward.”

  “Right…” Muñoz said, her voice trailing off as she attempted to sort all these different pie
ces of information together in her mind. “So you think this bartender’s tall tales can help you close the books on your last case, then?”

  “Well, those books are already closed,” I clarified. “And they’re the FBI’s books, at the end of the day. We just helped them out on one of their current cases that happened to overlap with an older one of ours, as far as the official records are concerned.”

  “But yeah, we’d like to know how and where Beck got the ship,” Holm jumped in, unable to contain his excitement. “Wouldn’t that be something, to find yet another piece of the puzzle with Lafitte’s ship while we’re down here? I can’t believe our luck.”

  “That being said, like I told you last night, this shouldn’t even place on our priority list until we find Birn,” I said through gritted teeth, shooting Holm a scathing look. “Who cares about some old ship when one of our own is missing, and for more than twenty-four hours at this point, no less? We all know better than most how crucial these first three days are in the search.”

  I neglected to mention that the first twenty-four hours really was the most crucial part, and it did not bode well that Birn was still missing after that time frame had passed. But I didn’t have to say it out loud. We all already knew as much, and that knowledge reflected on our faces.

  “Right, sorry,” Holm muttered, casting a genuinely apologetic glance in Muñoz’s direction before averting his eyes quickly back to his still half-full plate, which he pushed away from him slightly, seeming to have suddenly lost his appetite. “I got ahead of myself. I know that. Our focus is on Birn, not some pet nautical history project of ours.”

  “I appreciate that,” Muñoz said, not unkindly. “And there’s nothing wrong with having multiple goals. If you guys think you can figure this out at the same time as finding Birn, you won’t get any argument from me.” As she said this, though, she cast me a grateful look, and I could tell that she was glad that I had spoken up.

  I was done with my corn flakes by then and most of my apple, thankfully, considering that I had suddenly lost my appetite, as well. I sipped on the remainder of my coffee and stared out the window at the small crowd of tourists that had gathered on the beach by then, the waves crashing against the shore as children played and made sandcastles.

  I glanced back over at Muñoz. She had seemed to have abandoned the pursuit of her breakfast at that point, as well, but she’d made more ground than she’d had with her dinner, at least, having finished off most of the oatmeal and fruit by then along with her orange juice. She, too, now focused on her coffee.

  “Maybe you guys were right about these things,” Holm said, frowning down at what remained of his crepes and prodding them with his fork, seeming to have no intention of eating any more. “I’m not feeling so hot now.”

  I didn’t think the way he was feeling had anything to do with what he had eaten for breakfast. My own stomach churned at the thought of what Birn might be going through right then if he was even still alive.

  I shook my head to clear it at this intrusive thought. It wasn’t helpful, just like I’d told Holm the day before. We had to focus on the positive and assume that Birn was still out there somewhere nearby, waiting for us to find him.

  “Come on,” I said, getting up and gathering up both my own dishes and Muñoz’s. “You’ll feel better once we start getting to work. Time is of the essence. We should get down to the police department as soon as we can and then head over to the south shore. I also want to check in and see if Dante is all right. He went through a lot, and I’d still like to question him some more when he’s more lucid.”

  I’d almost forgotten about the exploits of the previous afternoon, in which we found the poor Jamaican man languishing for days on end in that cave, within an inch of his life.

  “You’re right,” Holm said, shaking his head to clear it and gathering up his own dishes. “I’m right behind you.”

  16

  Ethan

  I drove again as Muñoz directed me to the police station. I figured she could still use as many breaks as she could get, and it would be nice for me to figure out my own way around the island, especially considering that I was meeting up with Penny later.

  This proved not to be a very difficult task, considering the Little Torch Key’s size. In the time it took to get to the office in the morning back in Miami, I probably could’ve driven around the perimeter of the place at least twice.

  It was a quaint little island, full of colorful little condos in primary colors, illuminated even further by the southern sunlight. I kept my windows rolled down so that we could enjoy the salty scent of the air all around. Even when the sea wasn’t quite in sight, we could still smell it.

  “I’m telling you, I could get used to this,” Holm said, leaning back in the backseat and propping his head up with both of his hands. Clearly, he was already feeling better.

  Muñoz and I exchanged a knowing, amused look, and I was glad to see the corners of her mouth turning upward. Leave it to Holm to always bring a smile to everyone’s face, even in the direst of times.

  “So, you said you’ve gotten to know the police here a bit,” I said as Muñoz directed me around another corner. “As you could probably tell from what we already told you, that bartender didn’t exactly have a high opinion of them. Penny didn’t seem all that impressed either, though she, of course, respects the work they do.”

  “Yeah, the thing is that there’s just a different kind of mentality down here,” Muñoz answered with a long sigh as she peered out the window. “The bartender was right when he told you that things just move kind of slowly, even more so than in some of the other Keys I’ve been to. It’s that small community, small island lifestyle. Lots of retirees, not a lot of work to do, not a lot of much of anything to do except sit on the beach and watch time go by. It just lends to a different kind of culture than we’re used to, you know?”

  “I could get used to it,” Holm called from the back, and I rolled my eyes.

  “How did I know you were going to say that?” I chuckled, exchanging another bemused look with Muñoz. “But yeah, that kind of tracks with what I’ve been hearing. I imagine there’s not a ton of crime, beyond these recent incidents.”

  “Yeah, all the Keys have some drug smuggling issues because of the proximity to the other islands in the area,” Muñoz reasoned as she pointed for me to turn again. “But this Key is so small that it hasn’t warranted much attention. Mostly I’ve been told they have petty theft issues with the tourist industry.”

  “Yes, I imagined as much,” I said, furrowing my brows together. “Have you gotten a read on the chief of police? Is he taking this seriously?”

  “He’s taking it seriously, of course, but I’d be lying if I said he didn’t seem a bit overwhelmed by the whole situation,” Muñoz admitted. “He’s a bit out of his depth, which is why we were called in the first place. And then the whole thing happened with Birn, and I’d say the last time I talked to him, he was in a bit of a panic.”

  “Panic?” I repeated, glancing over at her as my concern grew. “How so? What did he seem like after?”

  “I only spoke to him once,” Muñoz said, shaking her head. “He seemed… yeah, he was just panicked, there’s no other word for it. He kept apologizing, saying he had no idea how this happened, asking what he could do. I just told him we had more MBLIS agents coming and asked him to keep us informed of any new developments. I was kind of afraid he would get in the way if I asked him to do anything more concrete.”

  “Well, that doesn’t inspire confidence,” Holm grumbled from the backseat.

  “No, no, it doesn’t,” I concurred. “Was he that out of sorts that you were afraid he would get in the way? Or did you worry about that even before all this happened with Birn?”

  “I would say about half and half,” Muñoz said after thinking about this for a moment. “There’s only the chief, one detective, and five officers for the whole island. They’re good guys like I said, and they get the job done.
The problem is that their version of the job is dealing with teenagers stealing tourist sweatshirts and college kids maybe sneaking in some weed. Nothing major, most of the time, and when Little Torch is involved in a bigger smuggling issue like this, they call in the Key West police department for backup, or reach out to an organization like us.”

  “But after what happened with Birn, you got an even worse impression of their ability to handle a crisis like this,” I finished for her.

  “Yeah, it didn’t inspire confidence, as Holm said,” she sighed. “He just kind of… looked deflated. Like he had no idea what to do or how to handle it. He’s been deferring to me on everything, though, which is good. They’re very nice and cooperative, and they do their jobs well. They just didn’t expect for something like this to go down on a quiet little island like this.”

  “Why would they?” I asked, throwing my hands up briefly before gripping the steering wheel again. “Who would ever expect something like this? A federal agent disappearing into thin air in the middle of the night, leaving hardly any evidence of a struggle behind? I can’t blame them for being a little spooked by the whole thing.”

  “Oh, it’s right over here,” Muñoz said, pointing to our right, and I almost had to squint to see it.

  The police department was almost a hole in the wall between a souvenir shop and a gas station, which I thought must be the only one on the whole island. It didn’t look to be any bigger than either of the businesses that flanked it.

  “This is it?!” Holm exclaimed, echoing my own thoughts. “You can’t be serious.”

  “As I said, it’s very small,” Muñoz said with a shrug. “There’s a driveway right here. It’ll take you around back.”

  I had to squint to see that, too, since it was so narrow, but I got there, pulling around to park in one of four spots behind the building, the other three all occupied by police cars.

  Then, together, the three of us headed back around to the front, where we pushed our way through two grainy window doors that looked like they hadn’t been cleaned in half a century.