3 Mango Bay

Mango Bay

A Mango Bob and Walker Adventure

by

Bill Myers

www.mangobob.com

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with.

Copyright © 2013 Bill Myers
. All rights reserved. Including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the author.

Version 2013.11.15

CHAPTER ONE

“
Clothing optional.”

That's what Anna had said about Serenity Cove.

Clothing optional, as in a
nudist
camp.

I was pretty sure she was kidding. Anna kidded a lot. It was part of her charm. Her way of getting to know someone.

We'd met while both of us were camping at Sebastian Inlet State Park, just north of Vero Beach on Florida's Treasure Coast.

I was in my motorhome and she was camping in the space next to me in a small tent.  We were both there for the same reason, to try our hand at finding gold from the Spanish shipwrecks on the nearby beaches.

An intense tropical storm had come up, bringing with it high winds, heavy rains and a flood that stranded us in the park. I was safe and sound in my motorhome, while Anna was wet and miserable in her tent.

Being a gentleman, I invited her over to wait out the storm with me and my cat, Mango Bob.

She was reluctant at first, but when her tent blew away she took me up on my offer. Three days later we had become great friends.

My name is John Everett Walker.  Most people just call me Walker.

Until recently I was head of network security for a big company. You'd recognize the name if I told you, but for reasons you'll understand later, I can't reveal it.

I'm currently unemployed and living full time in a 28-foot motorhome. It's not a bad life, but definitely not something I had planned.

It all started when the company decided to move their operation south of the border. They laid off 600 people, including me. I was one of the lucky ones. I got a pretty good severance package, including a big check and a motorhome.

Here's how it went down. During final inventory, the company discovered the motorhome on its books. It had been purchased five years earlier by a company executive, used a few times and forgotten.

They needed to get rid of it. And at the time, my so-called marriage had just ended rather abruptly and I needed a place to stay. The company offered to sell me the motorhome at a price I couldn't resist. I bought it and moved in.

I set up camp in the Toad Suck Ferry campground near the Arkansas river until a friend convinced me to deliver a cat to her sister in Florida, and in exchange I'd get a free camp site near the beach. 

Being suddenly unemployed, I liked the idea of living rent free. Especially close to the beach.

Just one minor detail, delivering the cat.

Simple, right? Drive fifteen hundred miles in a used motorhome with a strange cat and deliver it to a woman I'd never met. Sounds like a recipe for disaster, but turns out, it went pretty well.

After three long days on the road, Mango Bob – the name of the cat - and I arrived safely in southwest Florida. My friend's sister, Sarah, was thrilled to get her cat back and as promised she let me camp in the lot behind the building she rented for her kayak business.

That was six months ago. Since then, I'd explored different parts of the Sunshine State, including the Treasure Coast where I met Anna.

When the big storm had passed, Anna and I hit the beaches with our metal detectors. As luck would have it, we came away with some valuable gold and silver reales from the Spanish Fleet wreck of 1715.

Anna cashed hers in at a local coin shop, and we celebrated that evening with a fine meal and one too many bottles of wine.  The next day we parted company. I headed back to the small town of Englewood on Florida's west coast, and Anna headed back to her home north of Miami.

Or so I thought.

CHAPTER TWO

Two days after we parted company on the Treasure Coast, Anna surprised me by showing up in Englewood pulling a Casita camper trailer behind her Land Cruiser.

The first words out of her mouth were, “We're going to be roommates!
  I talked to Sarah and she said it was okay for me to camp next to you for a few days.  Won't that be fun!”

I wasn't sure whether fun was the right word to describe it. It all depended on what Anna expected out of me.

“You're moving to Englewood?”

“
Sure am. Already got a job here. I just need a place to stay until I can find an apartment. I figured staying here in my camper next to you would work. Unless you have a problem with that.”

I shook my head and smiled. “No problem. In fact, I'm happy to see you. Just a little surprised.”

Anna looked at me, a gleam in her eyes. “Walker, it'll be fun. You'll see.”

And she was right. It was fun. At least for a while.

Anna had been hired as a sales agent for a local realty firm, which meant she had to get up early and go in to work each morning.

I on the other hand, didn't have a job, so I could sleep in whenever I wanted to.

I'd see Anna when she came back to her trailer each evening and we'd usually have dinner together.

More often than not, our meal was something frozen we'd cook up in the microwave. But sometimes we'd have fresh shrimp from the nearby Gulf of Mexico. Or takeout from the China Garden.

Over dinner and wine we'd talk about our lives. Where we'd been, what we'd accomplished, and what we might be doing next.

Anna had big plans for her future. And they didn't involve living in a camper trailer for much longer. She wanted to become the top selling realtor in town, and eventually own her own agency.  Maybe even own several agencies.

She said she didn't mind working hard and was willing to put in the hours needed to accomplish her goal.  So two months after she moved in, I wasn't surprised when she announced she was selling her trailer and moving into an apartment.

It was inevitable.  And necessary if she wanted to live the life of a successful real estate agent.  At the very least, she needed the extra closet space not afforded in her small camper.

After Anna moved away into her apartment, we stayed in touch. Partly because we were friends and partly because she was my real estate agent.

That had been one of Anna's promises to me when she moved to Englewood. She had said, “I'll find you the perfect house to buy. And you'll thank me for doing it.”

You may be wondering, how does an unemployed guy living in a motorhome afford to buy a house in Florida?

Well, as it turned out, after I was laid off, the company offered me a large cash settlement to keep my mouth shut about crimes committed by one of their board members.

I hadn't asked for the money. The company knew I'd already been interviewed by the FBI and other authorities about the matter. But the board of directors still felt it was worth paying me to keep quiet. They were worried that if I talked to reporters, it could hurt their stock price.

So even though I had no plans to go public with what I knew, my attorney said, “Take the money. You'd be a fool not to.”

So I did.

CHAPTER THREE

Anna knew I had a bit of money stashed away and she knew if she found me the right place, I could afford to buy it.  So she'd been checking the MLS daily and following leads hoping to find a place that would suit me.

So far we hadn't had much luck.

But Anna had been lucky with another one of her clients, a retired couple from Michigan. She'd found them a small beach-front cottage, and they had closed on it yesterday.

This meant Anna was going to get her first big commission check and she'd invited me to join her and Sarah to celebrate.

We met up at one our favorite eating places, the Mango Bistro, which was within walking distance of where I lived in my motorhome.  As usual the food and service at the Mango was great and at Anna's urging, we stayed late and drank too much wine.

When it was finally time to leave, Anna and Sarah wisely caught a cab and headed back to their places. Since my motorhome was parked two blocks away, I walked.  Happy that I didn't have to drive.

The next morning, way too early, I heard footsteps in the gravel parking lot outside my window. Then a voice.

“
Walker, get up. Today's the day.”

It was Anna. The early riser, the one who was always ready to go.

“Walker, get your clothes on, we need to talk.”

I rolled over, pulling a pillow over my head. I didn't want to talk to anyone. Not this early. Not this morning. I just wanted to stay in bed until the pounding in my head went away.

I had a hangover and as far as I was concerned, it was Anna's fault. She was the one who kept the wine flowing the night before. She's the one who kept saying, “Drink up, Walker. We're celebrating!”

Maybe she was here this morning to apologize. Maybe that's why she was banging on my door.

“Walker, I know you're in there. I'm not leaving until we talk. Trust me, you'll want to hear this.”

I was pretty sure I didn't want to hear anything. But it was obvious that Anna wasn't going to let me sleep. Even today, the day I had to move, she wasn't going to let me get the few extra minutes of sleep I really needed.

Anna was like that. Persistent.

In business and in her personal life, she didn't take 'no' for an answer. Normally, it was one of the things I liked best about her.  But not so much this morning. I'd be happy if she'd just go away and let me sleep.

But I knew she wouldn't leave until I got up and talked to her. And if I didn't get up, she'd unlock the door and come in on her own.

She had a key.

I'd given it to her when we first met, over on the Treasure Coast, brought together by a tropical storm. After her tent blew away and she started sleeping on my couch,  I'd given her a key so she'd feel at home, free to come and go whenever she wanted.

That was more than three months ago and she still had the key. She could still come and go as she liked.

CHAPTER FOUR

One of the advantages of living in a motorhome is if you get tired of your neighbors or bored with the view or just want better weather, you can pull up stakes and move. There's no need to pack. You just get in the driver's seat, turn the key and go.

Drive until you find a better place. One with a better view, nicer weather, and different neighbors. Then set up camp. And stay as long as you like – provided you pay the camping fees and abide by park rules.

For the past six months, I hadn't had to worry about any of that. I was camping for free, in a place with no rules and no neighbors.

My campsite had originally been a boat storage yard, but it had been closed for more than seven years. Today not much remained, except for the tall privacy fence that kept my little home hidden from the rest of the world.

The out-of-state owner from whom Sarah rented the building had agreed to let me stay, as long as I watched over the property and did minor repairs as needed.  Which suited me just fine.

In return for keeping the vagrants out, I got a camping spot with full hookups, pretty darn close to the beach. It was well hidden behind the privacy fence, walking distance to nearby shops and restaurants, and as I mentioned before, it was free.  Best of all, only three other people knew I was there.

I couldn't ask for much more. 

But today I was being forced to leave.

The local government had decided the old boat yard would make a great city park. They had offered the owner a deal she couldn't refuse. They'd give her more than the place was worth, and name the park after her much beloved but now deceased husband.

It was going to be Bob Snyder Park.  And everyone was happy about it except me.

I'd been given thirty days to move. Today was the thirtieth day. I needed to be gone no later than midnight tonight.

For the past month I'd been calling all the local RV parks trying to find a new place to live. So far, I hadn't had any luck. All the parks said the same thing. “We're full and have a waiting list.”

That's what happens during snowbird season in Florida. Retirees from up north wanting to escape the cold weather quickly fill up all the RV parks.

The demand for sites is so great that many people make reservations years ahead, just to be sure they have a spot when they get here.

This is good news for park owners. But bad news for people like me who haven't made a reservation and need a place to stay.

From outside, I could hear Anna. She was getting impatient. “Walker, either open the door, or I'm coming in. You've got one minute.”

Like I said, she was persistent.

I pulled on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and made it up front just as Anna stepped in.

She looked at me and frowned. “You look like death warmed over. How's your head?”

“It's pounding. And it's your fault.”

“
Poor baby. Got a hangover on moving day.”

“
Yeah, I've got a hangover. Hope you and Sarah had fun getting me drunk last night.”

Anna shook her head. “We didn't force you to drink. You could have stopped anytime.”

She was right. They didn't force me. But they knew I wasn't much of a drinker. And they kept ordering refills. For me as well as themselves.

The worst part of this was Anna drank more than I did last night. She went to bed later than I did. Got up earlier, and yet right now she stood in front of me, no hangover, a smile on her face, and looking like she just stepped out of a fashion magazine.

I ran my hand through my hair. “So other than coming here to harass me, what's up?”

She smiled. “I found a place for your motorhome. It's not far from here, it's on the water, and they even have a pool.

“It's $550 a month with a three month minimum. No kids, no pets over forty pounds. And normally, no one under fifty five years of age.”

She was still smiling, knowing I'd be pleased. She had found me a place.

“Anna, if they don't allow anyone under fifty five to live there, how come they'll let me in? I'm way too young.”

She smiled again, knowing that her smile alone could win almost any argument. “Here's the thing. I know the owner of the park and she's thinking about selling it.

“But she wants to wait until the end of the season to list it. In the meantime, she wants someone there working 'under cover' to figure out why the park isn't earning the kind of money it should be. She thinks the manager might be stealing from her.

“
So I told her I knew someone who might be perfect for the job – you.

“
We could tell the other residents you were hired to upgrade the park's wireless internet system, and you'd be living there while you were doing it. Everyone in the park would be so happy the wifi was being updated they wouldn't care if you were twenty years under the minimum age.

“
The owner thought this was a great idea. She even said you could live there rent free – as long as you agree to be her undercover man.

“
So, what do you think? Are you interested in working undercover at Serenity Cove?”

Anna was waiting for my answer.

“Serenity Cove? That's the name of the place? It sounds like the name of a cemetery.”

Anna shook her head. “It's not a cemetery. It's a nice park. And you really can't be too picky at this point. If you don't take this, you'll be sleeping in the Walmart parking lot tonight.”

She was right. I needed a place to stay starting today.

“
So let me get this straight. All I have to do is move in, check things out and report back what I find. Nothing else, right?”

Anna nodded. “That's all you have to do. Just look around, talk to some of the residents, and write up a report on what you find.

“The only catch is the owner wants you there for three months. And she really does want you to figure out what it's going to take to upgrade the park's wifi.

“
You can do that, can't you?”

Anna had hit all the right buttons. She knew I needed a place to stay. She knew I liked the idea of free rent, and she knew I wouldn't have any trouble with the park's wifi system.

She had it set up perfectly. And I'd be a fool not to take the deal.

“
Okay, I'm in.”