Mango Bob (18 page)

“But why would they kill Tucker? He kept his end of the deal. The plant's been closed and the equipment's been shipped to Mexico.”

Jack sighed, “We don't know if these people killed Tucker. Could have been someone else.

“But by accepting that payment, Tucker became a liability to them. If they let him live, he'd always be a threat.

“And if they killed him, they wouldn't have to pay him the rest of the gold. They might even be able to recover the gold from the first payment.”

Jack said, “Maybe Tucker recorded the video as insurance. Or as a way to get more money.

“That's probably why he was trying to find the motorhome – so he could retrieve the camera.

“But why would he leave the camera in the motorhome in the first place?”

I remembered something Molly had told me.

“Tucker planned to buy the motorhome. That's why he left the camera in it. He figured it was a safe hiding place.

“But the deal fell through at the last minute. Corporate couldn't get in contact with Tucker. That's why they sold the motorhome to me.

Jean asked, “But why would he worry about the camera? The video had been erased.”

Jack said, “Maybe he didn't want someone accidentally finding the camera. It was easy for you to recover the video. Someone else could do the same thing.

“A more important question. Did Tucker hire someone to break into the motorhome and retrieve the camera? Or did the man in the suit learn about the camera, and send someone to get it?

“Either way, we need to get a copy of this video to the Boston PD as soon as possible.”

Jack stood, “I'll call my contact. Let them know what we found.

“They'll probably want me to ship the camera and memory card. They should be able to recover the video files the same way you did, right?”

“Yes, They should be able to. But just in case, I'll make a copy of the files and give them to you. That way, you'll have a copy, I'll have a copy, and the Boston police will have a copy.”

I paused, then asked, “Once they get the videos, I should be completely out of it, right?”

Jack looked up at me and shook his head, “Probably not.

“Since this might be a crime that crosses international borders, the FBI might get involved. That means they'll want a copy of the video. And they may want to interview you at some point."

He continued, “And whoever is looking for the camera might still be looking for it.”

My heart sank. I didn't want to be involved in this. I just wanted to get Mango Bob to Englewood and get on with my new life.

Jack could see I was disappointed. “Here's what we can do. I'll call my contact in Boston and let him know what's on the video. Then we'll send it to them.

“After they view it, they'll probably turn it over to the FBI. The Feds can worry about the international aspect.

“If Boston or the Feds have questions for you, I'll have them contact me. Then I'll contact you.

“Jean and I will be staying in Venice, just a few miles north of Englewood. We'll stay in touch.”

Jack took a business card from his wallet and wrote his cell phone on the back and handed it to me.

Jean spoke, “Don't wait for something to come up to call us. After you get settled in Englewood, call. Let us know what you're doing. Where you're staying.

“If Bob ever needs a cat-sitter, let me know. He's my kind of cat.”

Jack stood to leave, “Let's get together in the morning. Say about eight o'clock?”

“Sounds good to me. You fixing breakfast?”

“No, but the campground cafe should be open by then. I'll meet you there.”

Jean gave me a hug and said, “Don't worry about this. Jack's got your back.”

They both left for the night.

45

My phone chimed me awake.

The windows were still open from the night before. Wildlife stirring outside. Other campers getting ready to leave. Bob was asleep on the couch.

The clock on my phone showed I had about an hour before I needed to meet Jack.

Time enough to shower and shave.

I hadn't bothered to hook up to campground water. Easier to walk to the campground restrooms and shower there. I grabbed a towel, soap, shampoo, and headed out.

Showers weren't crowded. The water was warm.

When I got back to the coach, Bob was at the window keeping watch over two squirrels playing tag in a nearby tree.

He looked at me over his shoulder and said, “Murrph.” Telling me he could get those squirrels if he wanted to.

I'm sure he could.

I powered up my laptop, checked my email.

Nothing important.

Googled 'Harvey Tucker' to see if anything about his case made the news.

Found a newspaper article about his murder. It said Tucker had resigned from his job the week before his murder. Something about an investigation of 'improprieties' at work.

Wonder if this involved his south of the border dealings?

I checked my phone and saw it was time to meet Jack for breakfast. Checked on Bob. He was still on squirrel patrol.

I headed out, locking the door behind me.

The campground cafe was in the open plaza overlooking the springs. That's where I headed. Took about three minutes to get there.

Jack was already there when I arrived. He greeted me, “I wondered if you were going to sleep in this morning. Have a good night?”

“Not bad. Bob woke me up about three in the morning when he used his litter box.”

Jack laughed, “At least he uses the box. I had a cat use my shoe once.”

I shook my head, “I really can't complain about Bob. He's been a good traveling companion so far.”

Jack looked toward the springs, “You up for a walk before breakfast?”

“I'm always up for a walk.”

We followed the signs to the nature trail, then decided to do the four mile loop to the sinkhole and back.

Jack said “I called Boston again this morning. Talked to the lead detective on the Tucker case.”

“He said until they see the video, they wouldn't know if it was important or not.

“Said even if the video showed a bribe, the Boston PD wouldn't pursue it.

“Bribery is a class E Felony. Even if convicted, it's only minimal jail time.”

“And since the person who accepted the bribe is dead, there's not much of a case.

“He also told me their investigators didn't find any gold coins in Tucker's apartment.

“Tucker either hid them somewhere or cashed them in. Either way, it's not something Boston PD is worried about.

“As it stands right now, Boston PD thanks you for the video, but unless something else comes up, you're out of it.”

I smiled, “Good. The last thing I need is to be involved in a murder investigation.”

“One question – can I tell Molly about this? She's the person back at the plant who sold me the motorhome. She took the calls from Tucker and spoke to the Boston detective. She's pretty worried about the whole thing.”

Jack shook his head, “No, don't tell Molly. The fewer people who know, the easier it will be to investigate.”

Jack and I continued our walk, marveling at the great Florida weather and all the wildlife in the park.

If this was any indication of what living in Florida was going to be like, sign me up for more!

We eventually got back to the park cafe, and ordered breakfast. Eggs, toast, sausage and orange juice.

“Where's Jean this morning? I thought she might be joining us.”

“She said she wanted to sleep in. But I'm guessing she just wanted to give us some guy time.”

I nodded, “So Jack, what's the best way to get from here to Englewood?”

Jack brightened, “Most people would take 19 to Crystal River and then get on the Sunshine Parkway. That would take you through Tampa and across the Skyway bridge. Then back onto I-75 to the Englewood exit.”

“Personally, I don't like that route. Too much traffic in Tampa, and the winds on the Skyway bridge can be a bit much for a motorhome.

“So what I do is get on I-75 at Crystal River. That way you avoid the congestion through Tampa. And from there, you stay on I-75 all the way to the Englewood exit.

“It's about a five hour drive to Englewood from here - assuming no major traffic tie-ups on I-75.”

Jack stood, “Jean and I will be leaving in about half an hour. Headed toward Venice. We probably won't see you again on this trip.

“Call me if anything comes up. Or just call me if you get bored. Either way stay in touch.

“And don't dare leave without saying goodbye to Jean.”

We finished our breakfast, and headed back to our campsites. Jack's was closest, and as we approached, Jean came out of the motorhome and said, “Don't you dare leave without giving me a hug!”

She walked up and gave me a big squeeze and said, “I don't know if Jack told you, but meeting you has made this trip one of our best so far. Jack got to play detective, and I got to play with Bob.

“We'll be in Venice, which is only about eight miles north of Englewood. After you get settled in, give us a call and we'll get together.

“Promise you'll call us if anything comes up. Or if you need someone to talk to. We will have plenty of time on our hands, and we'd love to hear from you.”

“I promise. I've got both your phone numbers and email addresses, and I promise to stay in touch.”

With that, Jean hugged me again, Jack shook my hand, and I headed back to my campsite thinking about how lucky I had been to meet these people back at the campground in Arkansas, that first day I had the Love Bus.

Seemed like a long time ago. But it had been just four days.

46

When I got back to the Love Bus, I programmed the route Jack had suggested into my GPS. Then I checked on Bob and started preparing for the trip.

After closing all the windows, I went back outside, disconnected from shore power and made sure the utility compartment was tidy and locked. Then did a final walk around the coach to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything.

Bob watched with interest from his perch on the back of the couch.

The final thing on my checklist was to call Molly's sister in Englewood, let her know I'd be arriving today.

I dug through my wallet and found the card Molly had given me. Her sister's name was Sarah. And she worked at Dolphin Adventure Tours, on Mango street in Old Englewood Florida.

I dialed her number. After three rings a woman answered, “Dolphin Adventure Tours, how can I help you.”

“Sarah?”

“No, Sarah is out on the water this morning. I'm Becky.”

“Becky, this is Walker. I've got Sarah's cat, and I'll be in Englewood this afternoon.”

“Oh that's great! Sarah said she was hoping you'd be here today. She told me to tell you that when you get here, park in front of the building on the street.

“If she's not back when you arrive, hang around till she returns. She has a morning and an afternoon tour today and should be back around four thirty.

“She's really excited about this. She's been talking about it all weekend.”

“That's good to know.

“Becky, while I've got you the phone, I've got a question.

“I'm kind of new at driving this motorhome and want to avoid heavy city traffic. Will I have any problem getting into Englewood or getting it parked?”

She laughed, “You've never been to Englewood have you? This is a small town of about six thousand people. Most of them live on the other side of the county.

“There won't be much traffic no matter what time of day you get here, and you won't have any problem parking in front of our office.

“Just be careful driving on I-75. Lots of idiots out there.

“Once you get on Old Englewood road, things slow way down. In fact, you're likely to see more people riding bikes than driving cars.

“If you run into any problems, give me a call. I'm Sarah's answering service and live a few doors down from the office.”

I thanked Becky for her help. Told her I'd probably be there around three and looked forward to seeing Englewood.

We said our goodbyes and disconnected.

It was time to drive the final leg of the trip.

I started the coach, let the motor warm up a few minutes, rechecked all the doors and windows and pulled out of the campsite.

It took about 15 minutes to get from the campground back to highway 19. Then a three hour drive to Crystal Springs where I got back on I-75.

Driving on I-75 was far different than the slow unhurried pace of the back roads I'd been on. The speed limit on I-75 was 70, but most of the cars were doing at least 75. Many were going quite a bit faster than that.

I kept the motorhome in the right lane, set the cruise control to sixty five, and just ignored the cars, motorcycles and trucks speeding by.