Mango Key by Bill H. Myers

Author:Bill H. Myers [Myers, Bill H.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-12-09T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty

Since the message was signed 'E', I had to assume it was from Eugene. I hadn't seen him in the food line, but I could have easily missed him. He could have come through while I was changing out the beanie pans. Or maybe he had cleaned up and changed clothes and I hadn't recognized him.

It didn't matter. If the message was from Eugene, it was apparently important enough to him that he took the time to write it out and have someone deliver it to me. But I wasn't sure what it meant.

“It wasn't me who did it,” didn't tell me much. It just sounded like Eugene wanted me to know that it wasn't him who had done something. But he didn't say what had been done or who had done it. That would be something I'd have to figure out on my own

It was after eight and even though I'd spent most of my day serving food, first at Wiener Girl and then at the food pantry, I hadn't taken the time to eat.

I put Eugene's message in my pocket, got in the Prius and started driving back to Uncle Leo's. I figured on the way I'd see plenty of places to eat and I'd stop at one of them.

The first place I saw was a pizza parlor. It looked inviting but I was too hungry to wait to have a pizza made. Just beyond the pizza place was Chico's Cantina. It didn't look too crowded so I pulled in and parked. Inside, the place was clean and the service was quick. I ordered two shredded chicken tacos to go. The server brought me chips and salsa while I waited.

I munched on the chips and thought about Eugene's message and the meeting Kat had set up for me the next morning. She had said the man had a computer problem. She didn't say what kind. She'd also said the man didn't like to be disappointed. I'm not sure what she meant by that, but it probably wasn't good.

I'd almost finished the chips and salsa when the waitress brought out my to-go order. I paid the bill, put a few dollars on the table as a tip, and headed back to the motorhome. As usual, Bob was waiting for me at the door. I gave him a pet and put the food bag on the table. He hopped up and gave it a few sniffs, then jumped down and walked away.

Apparently he wasn't a fan of Mexican food.

Turn out, it was actually pretty good. Much better than I expected. I made a mental note that if I had to stay in town much longer, I'd eat there again.

After eating, I cleaned off the table and got out my laptop. I checked email to see if the client I was doing security work for had replied. They hadn't. But there was another email from Lawyer Bob. Like the earlier one, it just said, “Call me.”

It'd been almost six months since I last talked to him.

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