Key Raiders Page 13

  “This can’t be it,” Holm muttered again so only Muñoz and I could hear.

  “What else do they need when most of their job is stopping shoplifters?” Muñoz muttered back. “Though I agree that they could use an upgrade.”

  “An upgrade?” Holm repeated. “I thought they could use a whole new setup. Maybe just blow the whole thing up and start over.”

  Looking around the office, I couldn’t help but agree. The place was basically one room, and there were three uniformed officers there eating breakfast and drinking coffee. One guy in a suit was there, hanging in the back, along with an older, rather round man wearing an old sea green button-up, corduroy pants, and a brightly striped tie that did not gel with the rest of his getup. There were desks spread throughout the room in no particular organizational order, and the paint on the walls was peeling.

  “Chief Rollins, it’s good to see you again,” Muñoz said, smiling brightly at the older man and speaking loudly to drown out Holm’s complaints. “These are my colleagues from MBLIS’s Miami outlet that I was telling you about yesterday, agents Ethan Marston and Robbie Holm.”

  We all stepped forward and shook both the chief and the suited man’s hands while the officers sat back and watched, ceasing their eating.

  “It’s good to meet you, Chief… Rollins, was it?” I asked, flashing the older man a grin. He peered over at me through thick spectacles and smiled back at me.

  “Yes, it is, young man, Charlie Rollins,” he confirmed with a nod. “And this is Detective Dave Martin. He’s the best young officer we’ve had in years.”

  He clapped the younger man on the shoulder, and he gave us a pained smile as if he knew that this wasn’t much of a compliment and that the office was most certainly not up to MBLIS standards.

  “Oh, I don’t know about that,” he said sheepishly, giving a nervous laugh and looking down at the floor, which was covered in a particularly ugly, long-haired carpet from the ‘80s.

  “Nonsense,” the Chief scoffed, not seeming to pick up on the younger man’s embarrassment. “We’re hoping we can keep him around. Worried we’ll lose him to one of the bigger Keys, where there’s more excitement. Though, uh, we have to admit we’ve had a little too much excitement the past couple of days.”

  Rollins’s smile vanished at the mention of the situation, and he scratched his balding head as if he wasn’t sure what else to say.

  “I was sorry to hear about your missing agent,” Martin jumped in to save his boss. “How’s the search going? I hope everyone on the island has been cooperating with your investigation.”

  “We’ve got a few leads,” I assured him with a smile. “Have you been involved with this case at all?”

  “Dave was the lead detective on the case before I got here,” Muñoz said quickly. “He’s been a big help through it all.”

  “More like the only detective,” Martin chuckled softly. “Suffice it to say, we’re glad you’re here. We heard you ran into a bit of trouble last night out on the water.”

  “Now come on, Dave, at least invite them to sit down and have some coffee before you start talking shop at them,” Rollins said jovially, pulling out a seat at a haphazardly placed long wooden desk a few paces diagonal from us and gesturing for us to join him.

  We all clustered around the desk, and one of the officers brought us coffee.

  “Have you eaten yet?” she asked us shyly.

  “We’re good, thanks,” I said, giving her a warm smile and waving her away.

  The coffee was brittle and bitter, but it would do the trick, and I sipped on it slowly out of the paper cup the woman had given me.

  “So, you were asking about Dante,” I said, returning my attention to Martin, who had taken a seat next to Rollins.

  “Dante?” he repeated, shaking his head in confusion.

  “That’s the guy we found in the cave out there,” I clarified.

  “Wait, did you find him in one of the caves out on the northwest shore?” Martin asked, raising his eyebrows. “The paramedics told us he was involved in some kind of shipwreck, but they didn’t give any more details than that.”

  “Yeah, I think that was it,” I said, trying to remember the exact geographic location of where Penny had taken us. “He must’ve been stranded there for days. I’m shocked he survived.”

  “Now, was this the ship that all that cocaine came from?” Rollins asked.

  “Yes,” Muñoz confirmed with a nod. “Some of it drifted into shore from the cave over a period of days. We think it happened in a storm, but the guy was pretty delirious, so he couldn’t tell us much. There was another guy on the ship who didn’t make it.”

  “Damn,” Martin said, running a hand over the thin layer of stubble on his cheeks and chin. “That’s insane.”

  “We were wondering if you knew anything about what happened to the guy,” I continued. “We would hate to see him not make it after surviving for so long, and we’d also selfishly like to have another go at talking to him if he’s more lucid.”

  “Eh, last I heard, he was transferred to a hospital on Key West,” Rollins said apologetically. “Airlifted in the middle of the night, I was told. I think he’s in some kind of coma, but I haven’t heard anything since then. I imagine if he’d woken up or croaked, somebody would’ve told me.”

  “Well, that’s something, at least,” I said, a little deflated but glad that Dante hadn’t given up yet, if only because I hoped he could tell us something that might lead us to Birn.

  “So, what are you thinking for today?” Martin asked, leaning forward on the table on his elbows in anticipation. I got the sense that he didn’t see a lot of action around here and was eager to get an opportunity to change that.

  “Well, we were wondering if you’ve noticed anything funny around here lately,” I said cautiously, wanting to get their real impressions without putting any words in their mouths. “Anything out of the ordinary?”

  “This whole week has been out of the ordinary,” Rollins said with a low, dark laugh, running a hand over his head again. “We don’t see this around here much, you understand. We never would’ve thought anything like this…. Well, we’re just sorry, is all.”

  The chief looked down at the table and shook his head in a dejected manner, and I was beginning to see what Muñoz had meant about him being out of sorts.

  “It’s alright,” I assured him with a reassuring nod. “We understand that your department is a bit out of your depths with this thing. That’s why we’re here. We’re just looking to get a sense of whether you noticed anything unusual before all this went down. Not that you could’ve predicted it, of course, but just anything out of the ordinary.”

  “Basically, why do you think things have changed lately?” Holm clarified for me. “You said yourselves, the other Keys get most of the drug activity, even with your proximity to foreign islands. Something must’ve shifted recently.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you,” Rollins sighed, shaking his head again. “Maybe I’m just old, but everything’s seemed normal to me.”

  “We did have that bartender make that report a little while ago,” Martin said, and that got my attention. “He came in and complained about those guys staying in that vacation property on the south shore—one of the new ones from that developer. He said that he thought he saw them up to something.”

  “You mean Nick Waller?” Rollins chuckled, rolling his eyes. “I’m surprised that guy doesn’t complain about the sun coming up in the morning.”

  “Yeah, you’re not wrong about that,” Martin admitted. “But still, it’s something at least.”

  “It’s funny you mention that,” I said. “I think my partner and I were talking to this bartender last night at our hotel. He mentioned something about this, said he might come down here to talk to you about it again this morning.”

  One of the officers groaned audibly at this, demonstrating that they were listening in on our conversation, and Martin chuckled.

  “Y
ou’ll have to forgive our officers,” he said. “Nick’s kind of a regular around here, calling in every little thing he sees wrong on the island. You’ll understand that it’s kind of difficult to take him seriously after a certain point.”

  “Oh, we know the type,” Holm said with a small laugh. “And we got that sense from him, as well. Still, some stuff he had to say lines up with some other reports we’ve heard since we got here.”

  “Other reports?” Martin repeated. “We didn’t get any other reports. I promise you that. If we got something more credible, we would’ve looked into it.”

  “Did you look into this one at all?” Muñoz asked, a little edge of annoyance to her voice.

  “Of course we did,” Rollins boomed. “Maybe not as quick as that wackadoodle would’ve liked, but we looked into it. Didn’t find anything.”

  “I talked to the owners,” Martin clarified. “They told me they were running a tourist program in the Caribbean islands, and so there are just some cultural differences with some people staying there. They promised to look into the trash issue, which I’m sure Nick told you about.”

  “Oh, he did,” I chuckled, shaking my head. “Though, to be honest, I’d be pretty mad if somebody messed with my beaches, too. I can’t begrudge him that.”

  “Yeah, well, we’ve gotten them to come to clean it up from time to time,” Martin sighed. “Just not as fast as Nick would like, I guess. Anyway, we looked at the house and didn’t find anything.”

  “What were you saying about these other reports?” Rollins asked, narrowing his eyes at us. “We haven’t gotten any.”

  “I think what my partner meant by that was that what the bartender told us lined up with some other things we’ve heard since we arrived,” I explained. “Nothing like an official report, just good old fashioned investigating.”

  “I understand,” Martin said quickly, casting a slightly annoyed glance over at his boss. “What have you heard, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “Just some similar things about some unusual visitors spending time on the island the last couple of months or so,” I said, not wanting to out Penny as my source or get any more specific than that. I liked keeping my sources confidential for now, and I wasn’t quite sure what to make of Rollins and Martin yet.

  “You mean the Caribbeans,” Rollins said gruffly, waving away the concern. “We talked to the owners about that. Like I told you, they’re just reaching out to some new clientele. Don’t see anything wrong with it myself.”

  “No, of course not,” Muñoz said. “But considering this new information we have about the drug shipment coming in from the Caribbean, I think it warrants looking at some recent events in a different light than we might otherwise.”

  “Yes, of course, you’re right,” Martin said, nodding in deference to her. “If you want to speak with the owners of the property yourselves, I’m sure they’d be happy to speak with you.”

  “That would be excellent, thank you,” Muñoz said, smiling at him. “What are their names?”

  “I believe it was Chester and Ashley Holland,” he said, scrunching his face up as he tried to remember. “A couple who owns a lot of investment properties all over south Florida. This is their first in the Keys, I think.”

  I exchanged a look with Holm. So this mysterious Daniels character that Dante spoke of was not one of the owners of this property, most likely.

  “Do they spend a lot of time on the island?” I asked. “Or do they just rent out the property—or properties… I think the bartender mentioned something about two homes?”

  “Yes, two right next to each other on the beachfront,” Marin confirmed with a nod as he got up and crossed over to a filing cabinet against the back wall. “I think I have something here from when we went down there to investigate Nick’s claims. Hold on.”

  He rifled through the cabinet for several moments, which seemed to be rather disorganized, before returning to his seat with a thin manila folder in hand.

  “Yes, Chester and Ashley Holland,” he said, nodding slowly. “They spend most of their time in the Miami area, it seems. They haven’t been down here for a while. I had to speak to them on the phone when I was looking into what Nick said he saw.”

  “You didn’t ask them to come down here?” Muñoz asked, sounding a little surprised.

  “Why?” Rollins asked with a shrug. “It was just one crackpot’s complaint, and we don’t get a lot of crime down here. We didn’t see any point in pursuing things further once we looked through the house and didn’t find anything of note.”

  “We understand that things are a little different down here than back in Miami where we’re used to working,” I said, casting a pointed look in Muñoz’s direction. It wouldn’t help matters for us to antagonize the few law enforcement officials who actually lived and worked in the area.

  “You could say that again,” Rollins chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s a whole different world, isn’t that right, Dave?”

  “Mmm-hmm,” Martin hummed, still engrossed in the file. “Though clearly, something’s gone wrong under our noses here.”

  “We’re sure it’s nothing you could’ve anticipated,” Muñoz said quickly, seeming to have gotten my message. “It’s just a matter of backtracking and maybe viewing some incidents in a different light now that we have more context.”

  “Of course,” Martin said, glancing up from the file to give her a small smile. “As I said, you’re welcome to take a look around those properties. I’ll even go with you if you’d like.”

  He looked a little too eager to do this, and I wondered how long he’d been waiting for something more interesting than investigating teenagers stealing t-shirts to come along in his case files.

  “Sure, we’d appreciate that,” I said, nodding to him. “Is there a way we could get a warrant, or do you think that there’s not enough evidence yet?”

  “Good luck,” Rollins chuckled, the table shaking with the force of his laughter. “There’s just the one judge, and he’s been on vacation for two weeks now.”

  “We don’t get a lot of activity around here,” Martin reiterated, giving us each an apologetic look that was getting a little too familiar at that point in the conversation.

  “Right, we’re starting to get that,” Holm said dryly.

  “Is there a way we can get these Holland characters down here to talk to us in person?” I asked. “Or at least to give us permission to enter their property?”

  “I’ll… start with the second request,” Martin said carefully. “I don’t think threatening to drag them down here will make them want to cooperate a lot.”

  “What gives you that impression?” I asked, raising my eyebrows at the detective. “Did they seem uncooperative last time?”

  “I wouldn’t say uncooperative, exactly,” Martin said, a pained expression on his face. “Just… not wanting to be inconvenienced.”

  “Alright, then,” I said, exchanging a look with Muñoz.

  “Maybe we should go have a chat with whoever’s staying there without telling these investors first,” she murmured. “If the current occupants let us in, that’s enough for me. And we don’t want to warn them first before we get there if these Holland people are involved in some way.”

  “Oh, I don’t think that could be possible,” Rollins said, sounding alarmed at this proposition. “They seemed like honest folks to me.”

  “Many of them do,” I pointed out, pursing my lips. “But you’re right, Muñoz. We should just head over there and knock on the door. Then we’ll go from there. No reason to get the Hollands involved early if they’re going to be difficult.”

  “First, what about this witness you found before we got here?” Holm asked, turning to Muñoz. “The one you were interviewing when Birn disappeared? Is he still here?”

  “We’ve got him in a holding cell in the back still,” Martin said, jutting his thumb in the direction of a door on the back wall to the right of the filing cabinet. “We didn’t want to mo
ve him after what happened, just in case.”

  “Where would you move him to?” Holm asked. “Surely you have a local jail?”

  “Nope,” Rollins said, shaking his head gravely. “Just the holding cells here at the station. Everybody else gets shipped to Key West if they’re going to stay behind bars for the long haul, though that’s unusual in and of itself.”

  “Got it,” I said, clapping my hands on my thighs. “So, let’s go have a chat with this fellow, shall we?”

  17

  Ethan

  Holm, Muñoz, and I filed into the back of the police station with Detective Martin, leaving Chief Rollins and the officers out in the main office.

  “I really have to apologize for everything,” Martin said quickly, and in a low voice the second he shut the door behind us. “We really don’t have the kind of resources necessary to deal with something like this, let alone anticipate it. Add that to how slow everyone seems to move around here, and I can imagine that you aren’t exactly impressed with our work here on the Little Torch Key.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said, waving a hand dismissively at this. “We understand your situation, though it may be a little hard to wrap our heads around if we’re honest. I’m sure that you do good work and get things done for your residents. Something unusual just happened this time.”

  “Yes, well, I’ll be making sure that we learn from this. You can mark my words on that,” Martin said, pursing his lips. “Charlie’s a good chief, and he’s been good to me my whole career. But he’s getting up there, and times are changing. He’s going to have to adapt to the new climate if we’re going to avoid a bungle like this again.”

  Martin led us through a small storage room and then unlocked another door on the opposite wall.

  “What can you tell us about this guy?” I asked Martin, nodding in the direction of the door before he opened it. “Have you talked to him at all?”