Key Manatee Page 9

  “Totally. I need to call my sisters at the hotel anyway.”

  Slip looked uncomfortable. “Taco, I’m going to use the bathroom, get cleaned up some.”

  I wondered if getting cleaned up was becoming a trend for the man. I looked over at Consuelo to see if I’d heard right. She just shrugged.

  ♦

  Consuelo’s sister Lydia came by with a bag of clothes and the two women disappeared in the direction of the guest stateroom. Slip, all showered and wearing clothes I loaned him sat with me in the lounge. I’d cleaned up and changed as well. We were both wearing baggy tourist outfits topped with ball caps. Ready to walk out the door, just waiting for the ladies. I decide to take a quick look on the net, see what a search for Blue Manatee might bring up. Slip started pacing as I flipped on my laptop.

  “Taco, Consuelo told me not to tell you this, but under the circumstances – ” The phone rang, I answered. It was Mary Ann wanting to talk about her job. I told her I had a lot going on, was about to leave. She asked who with. I told her and she said we needed to talk about my friends. She started to say something else but Lydia came into the room. I said I really have to go, can I call you later when I get back and she hung up. I turned the computer off and stowed it away. That would have to wait until we got back.

  Consuelo came in next, but it wasn’t her. Brown wig, too much makeup, dark glasses, and a baggy tropical shirt and hat to match. Perfect.

  “Very nice, Lydia. I can’t hardly tell it’s her.”

  Consuelo smiled shyly and belched. Slip rolled his eyes.

  “It’s her. Let’s roll.”

  ∨ Key Manatee ∧

  Fifteen

  We dropped Lydia at the hotel so we could use the car. Not that a big, rusty convertible with a sunrise painted on the hood and sunset on the trunk was all that anonymous, but it was a little less conspicuous than my truck with the homemade camper on back.

  I explained why I should stay in the car on our way to check on Julie. I didn’t want any conversations with the police as to why I was back. But still no sign of Julie, and I wasn’t sorry to see the house across the street had a moving van parked out front. Consuelo drove.

  “Taco, I’m worried about her. You told the cop she was missing?”

  “Yep, not that he seemed too receptive to anything I had to say. Maybe when we get back to my place we’ll try calling in a missing person. Can’t hurt.”

  Smathers Beach was just around the corner. A section on the west end fenced off a large gazebo, landscaping, colorful signs, and a fair throng of people that I didn’t remember being there before.

  “I’ll drop you guys here and find a place to park this beast.”

  We jumped out and eased up on the throng. Workers were finishing up a last section of paving bricks, but the rest of the area seemed to be done. A small park had sprung up overnight, complete with someone in the gazebo holding a microphone wrapping up a speech about environmental centers and bringing affordable housing to Key West. The barges and equipment out on the water were a backdrop seen through numerous freshly planted palms.

  We merged with the crowd, checking out the signs depicting happy street scenes of the coming development. There were several of the big, full-color signs along the paver walkways surrounded by lush plants and palms. Each sign had a different idyllic scene with the words Affordable Housing and Environmentally Friendly at the bottom with a picture of a blue manatee.

  “Taco, this is mighty nice.”

  “Yeah, these people are good at this. Got themselves some world-class propaganda going on here.” The crowd was eating it up. At least the tourists were, some of the locals didn’t look too happy. I saw a couple of people I vaguely knew having words with the man who’d been making the speech and a few others in the gazebo. One of those noticed me about the same time I realized who he was.

  “Slip, look who we got rubbing elbows with these people.”

  “Well, look at that. You ever ask him about those calls to the police?”

  “Tried to. Saw him heading down the dock and ran over to talk but he told me he didn’t have time to talk to hippie cowboy lowlifes.” Slip looked genuinely surprised.

  “He said that?”

  “His very words. I tried again, but he went on aboard his fancy boat ignoring me. I reckon some people are just assholes.” Slip was staring towards the gazebo.

  “I’ll say. Man’s got the social graces of a sea slug.”

  Grizzel kept glancing over toward a big goon standing in the shade of a palm. I looked around and saw several more of the same lurking along the edges of the park. One took pictures of the crowd, others talking on walkie-talkies.

  “Slip, they got a lot of muscle here.”

  “Yeah, I noticed.” Slip took a few pictures with the camera he’d brought to go with his outfit. “I think this thing is broken.”

  “It is. You don’t think I’d loan you a working digital camera, do you?”

  “Yeah, good point.” Someone on the gazebo started handing out free t-shirts and the crowd surged that way.

  “Slip, we need to stick together. I wish Consuelo would get here.”

  “You don’t need to worry about her. Like I started to tell you-”

  “There she is.” I could see flashes of her lime green hat bobbing through the crowd. She had someone in tow.

  “Hey guys! Look who I found!” It was the dreamer, looking as dazed as ever. “Found him sitting on the curb. I think he wandered off and ended up here.” The man gave me a shrug. “We should call Fish. Do you have his cell number?”

  “Yeah, it’s in my wallet. Give me a minute and I’ll see if I can dig it out.”

  Consuelo gave the place a look. “This is impressive. Says here the environment is the first concern and every effort is made to work in harmony with nature. Where’s the part about killing politicians dressed like manatees? Is that around on back?” She stepped off the path into the plantings and looked at the back of the sign. “Nope, nothing about killing people back here.”

  Slip snapped his fingers twice.

  “Two o’clock. One in front, two behind.”

  Three big guys in matching blue shirts rolled up on us.

  “Ma’am, could you step out of the landscaping, please?” He pointed to a little sign, ‘Please Stay on Pathways’. Consuelo looked up from under her wide-brim hat and popped her gum.

  “Hey, no problem!” She jumped to my side and put her arms around my waist, head against my shoulder. “Honey, can we go get a Margarita now? You promised!”

  The security guy ignored Consuelo’s performance, but you could see a look of recognition on his face when he noticed the dreamer standing behind Slip. The big goon started talking low into his walkie-talkie and the dreamer started fidgeting, then stepping backwards. Time to go.

  The dreamer turned and ran. Consuelo right behind and Slip and I bringing up the rear. She caught him pretty quick and had him down to a fast walk in the direction of the car. We could hear him mumbling, scared. I looked back.

  “They’re not following us. I suggest we leave before they change their minds.”

  We forced the dreamer and ourselves to walk calmly the rest of the way to the car. The top still down.

  “Nice and easy, Consuelo.” She drove perfectly normal, except for looking in the rearview every five seconds. I called Fish Daddy.

  “Fish? We got your boy…Yeah, the dreamer…Sure, no problem. We’re going there now…See you then.” Slip sat in back trying not to look behind us. The dreamer next to him, crouched down on the floor. “Fish has been out looking for him, said he’d come by and collect him later.” Consuelo kept looking in the mirror.

  “We got a tail. Two guys in a blue pickup. Don’t turn around.”

  I looked in the side mirror. They were closing. “They’re trying to get close enough to get the tag. Hold on.” Hard enough right turn the big car squealed the tires a little. Then another right and we were back on Roosevelt Boulevard, the beach f
lying by on the left. Consuelo’s hands at ten after ten on the wheel, deftly weaving through traffic. A right down a narrow street then cut through a parking lot and come out on Flagler. No sign of the blue pickup in my mirror.

  “I think you lost ‘em.”

  “Yeah. I always wanted to do that.”

  Slip gave her a pat on the back. “Nice work. Remind me to buy you a beer.”

  Driving with traffic now, taking the side streets back to the marina on the other side of the island.

  ♦

  “Someone’s been here.”

  Slip and Consuelo froze behind me as I stepped inside the houseboat. “Couch looks a bit too neat.” We spread out and took a thorough look around. A few things we not quite in the right place. I took a closer look at the door.

  “Must have used a lock-pick of some kind. Guess I’ll start setting the alarm.”

  Slip was checking out the bedrooms. “Do you think they were looking for your book?”

  “No telling, but I wouldn’t be surprised.” I took my laptop out of the old boat’s secret hidey-hole and set it on the table in the lounge. I fired up the computer. Consuelo came out of the galley with three cold beers.

  “Try Blue Manatee. They probably have a website to match their cute little expo-park I bet.” Consuelo and Slip looking over my shoulder.

  They did. Page after page of a top-notch website, long on alluding to how Southernmost Community – the new development’s name – would solve all of Key West’s problems by providing housing for the service sector. They were definitely saying all the right things though, since it’s true that Key West waiters and store clerks often had to work two jobs just to make their share of the rent for old house trailers on tiny weedy lots on Stock Island – the island next up the Keys. Those moldy trailers and lots were selling for about the same as new homes in the nicer subdivisions on the mainland.

  The only other cheap housing option isn’t even a house, or on land. Just off Stock Island there’s a growing community of derelict boats spread out and anchored up over several acres of water. Boats that folks can rent or buy to live on. Besides most being pretty uncomfortable from not having air-conditioning or even electricity, the little boats catch hell from hurricanes, which is probably the only reason Key West doesn’t have the biggest floating slum in the US.

  The Blue Manatee website boasted forty reasonably priced units available upon completion of Phase I. Consuelo pointed to an artist’s rendition of jolly bartenders, t-shirt shop clerks, and museum guides playing volleyball on the beach with their affordable housing in the background.

  “Probably a crumb thrown to the planning board so they can make the rest of the project gated, high-end condos.” She was likely right, since plans for the rest of the project were vague at best. Most of the site was pictures of children playing with kittens and retirees strolling along beaches with porpoises frolicking in the background. I felt the houseboat move, then a knock. Fish Daddy.

  ♦

  “Damned if I know what to do with him, figured he’d been snapped out of it by now. I was going to ask Consuelo’s sisters and you folks if you had any ideas. I hate to turn him over to the police.”

  We all sat around the lounge watching the man with the parrot on his hat pace back and forth. The dreamer sat in a corner on the floor, vaguely aware of everyone looking at him. We’d told Fish about how the security goons had scared him.

  Slip cleared his throat. “We could sell him to the voodoo lady. She could make him into a zombie, wouldn’t take much the way he is now.”

  We all gave Slip a look for his crappy joke, except Consuelo.

  “Hey, Cro-Magnon man here might have something. I think Miss Levita said something about being a licensed hypnotist when she did my hair. Maybe she could do something for him.”

  “Consuelo, I think that license – ” But Fish cut me off.

  “Hey, that’s an idea! A damn good idea!” He went over and got the dreamer on his feet. “I’ll take him over there right now! Don’t know why I didn’t think of that!” And they were out the door, Fish still talking and the bird holding on. Next order of business: Julie.

  “Consuelo, given the lack of enthusiasm I got from the police last time, maybe you could give them a call, mention Julie is missing?”

  “Not that I’m likely on their Christmas card list either, but I’ll give it a shot.” She headed for the phone. I’d been meaning to ask.

  “Which reminds me. What was that all about, anyway? I never did hear the whole story.”

  “Oh, nothing really. Some guy kind of bumped into me and fell on a cop. They dropped the charges, just a misunderstanding.” Most likely, since she sure didn’t look very dangerous with that smile. Then again, Slip had mentioned something once about her knowing karate. Hard to believe with her sitting there talking on the phone, looking up at me like that.

  “Earth to Taco! Come in Taco!” Slip being cute.

  “What?” I yawned. I really needed a night without crazy dreams.

  “I’m going to take a walk, stretch my legs.”

  “Be careful.”

  ∨ Key Manatee ∧

  Sixteen

  My body had molded itself into the fibers of the beach hammock. The only sound the gentle murmur of the sea and an occasional bird squawking in the distance. I felt so comfortable, so at peace. Realizing I’d been sleeping on my arm, I moved it ever so carefully so I could go back to sleep. The hammock swayed slightly, a seagull screamed closer, I sighed and started drifting again into the comforting arms of sleep. The hammock moved again. I opened my eyes, realizing this time I was really awake, lying on the old yellow couch. My internal alarm had gone off, meaning someone had just come aboard.

  With all my senses racing toward full alert, I lifted my head enough to look across the dark lounge. The only light came from my small portable television across the room. The picture frozen showing a close-up of a man with the handle of a kitchen implement sticking out of his bloody forehead. My two acquaintances also frozen, sitting on the floor looking back my way, their eyes as big as dinner plates. A nearly empty bowl of popcorn on the floor between them. Slip holding the VCR remote.

  I held up one finger, but Consuelo was already moving low across the room coming up between the window and the door. I motioned for Slip to move slow, then sat up and eased to the other side of the door. My right arm hanging by my side.

  Consuelo peeked through the window curtain, showed us with one hand: a male, medium height, coming toward the door. She stood slightly crouched, but looked relaxed, her eyes hooded. A second later, a tentative soft knock.

  “Hello? Anyone home?”

  I tried shaking my numb arm a little. “Who’s there?”

  “Danny, Danny Morgan.”

  I looked and got shrugs from my cohorts. Slip was next to me holding the remote in a menacing way. I guess he couldn’t find the heavy flashlight.

  “Oh, sorry. I was here earlier? You brought me in the big car?”

  I opened the door a crack, then pulled him in and stuck my head out the door for a quick look. All clear. I looked at my watch for the first time after closing the door. Nearly midnight.

  “Sorry about coming by so late. I just wanted to thank you for helping me.”

  Consuelo got up close to him, looking in his eyes.

  “You saw Levita? She fixed you?”

  “Yes! She’s great! I owe her big!”

  Consuelo went back her seat next to the popcorn.

  “Well, at least he’s talking.”

  “Oh, I could talk before. But I was busy with, you know, other things.”

  I motioned for him to have a seat. “Fish said you were lucid dreaming, got stuck or something.”

  “Yeah, grabbed one of those scouts. Guess I’ll think twice before I do that again!” He was the only one laughing. Slip went back to the television, started rewinding the tape in the VCR, looking for something.

  “So you were lucid dreaming. What do you mean y
ou could talk, but were busy?”

  His expression changed – serious now. “I mostly knew what was going on around me, in this plane.” Motions to indicate the here and now. “But I got involved in reading my past. There’s kind of like a permanent record stored in our DNA. Fascinating stuff. I was able to watch any part of my life like watching a movie.” Looks from the floor by the television. “I thought it was only for a few hours, but I guess it was more like several days.” Ownership of the VCR remote became more important on the other side of the room, but I was interested.

  “See any good stuff on your DNA movie? Like why you were afraid of those guys at the park?”

  “Yeah, I’ll say. That one guy, he works for DDT.”

  “Which is?”

  “DDT? Big time money behind Blue Manatee. When I was surfing my DNA, I could collate bits and pieces of things from my past experiences. Like, I never realized that guy worked for DDT and he didn’t really care about the environmental movement.”

  “You’re losing me here.”

  “Sorry. You see, I’m vice president of the Beach Animal Research Foundation.” Looked like he was proud of this. “You’ve heard of us?”

  “BARF? Uh, well.”

  “We’re part of a coalition of environmental groups that monitor coastal development. It’s kind of a shock to realize now that a lot of the members of those groups actually work for DDT. They must have been planting people for years. One of those guys at the gazebo is president of CRABS. Too bad too, he always had some great drugs at the environmental conferences.”

  The fella sat there with a big goofy grin. I got a quick eye roll from Slip that told me what he thought and Consuelo scratched the side of her head and let her finger do one circle around her ear. They went back to their movie.

  But if Danny was right, it would go a long ways toward explaining why the local environmentalists who could at times go into a frenzy over something like what kind of mulch the county used, would let something of this magnitude go down.