at Karen’s Cayo Costa beach house after a
dinner at Cabbage Key.
Beth walked to the back of the boat and
grabbed the rear line with the end tied to
the port cleat. She picked it up and threw it
to Karen, who had walked down the dock.
Karen tied the line to the nearest piling and
said, “The boat is secure for the night. Are we
ready for a night cap on the widow’s walk?”
“Defi nitely,” Beth said, and looked at the
stars for a second. Beth stepped out of the
boat and walked with Karen down the dock. A
mother raccoon and her four babies walked
across the shell pathway at the end of the
dock, glancing cautiously toward the women
before continuing their nightly forage. As
Beth stepped on the shell pathway, she heard
a mosquito buzz
in her ear, and
she swatted it
away.
“Once we get
up to the widow’s
walk, the breeze
will keep the
mosquitoes away.
There are always
a few down by
the mangroves,”
Karen said as
she walked
faster toward the
cottage. Beth
followed Karen’s
pace as she
slapped one on
her left forearm
and heard
another buzz in her ear. The smell of the night
blooming jasmine eased Beth’s irritation
at the pesky bugs as they approached the
stairs illuminated by yellow bug lights on the
covered entryway. They scampered up the
steps two at a time and quickly went in the
screen door.
“Now I understand the screens,” Beth said as
she swatted one remaining pest on her right
hand.
“A pain at night, but they’ll be gone
tomorrow when we go fi shing with the
guide,” Karen said as she pulled her keys from
her pocket.
As Karen unlocked the front door, Beth
took a deep breath and relaxed. She was
tipsy from the margaritas and was certain
one more on the widow’s walk would be just
right. Karen went inside fi rst and hit the two
light switches on the right wall, turning on the
overhead light by the door and a lamp on
the far side of the room. Karen stopped in her
tracks, stiffened and gasped.
Beth heard a strange male voice say, “I’ve
been waitin’ for both of ya.”
From that point on, the tale moves quickly
to end with a twist that not many will expect.
Mills has fond memories of family time in
the island of Cayo Costa. In the 1970s his
family owned an old stilt house out in open
water on the
sound side of
Punta Blanca
Island, near Cayo
Costa. It was one
of the three old
stilt houses burnt
down in a 10-
day span in July
of 1995, when
the net ban
went into effect
and someone
appeared to be
“protesting” it by
burning down
three of the stilt
fi shing houses in
a 10-day period.
Sadly, Mills
said, they never
caught the responsible party.
“When my family owned the old stilt house,
which we called ‘The Shack,’ we were out
there just about every weekend fi shing,” Mills
said. “I loved going to the old phosphate
docks to catch grouper and snapper.
Sometimes, we walked the trails of Cayo
Costa and explored the area looking for
buried pirate gold. This was the inspiration
for my seventh novel, ‘Pineland Gold,’ that
involved a murder at the Pineland Indian
Mounds, looking for rumored buried pirate
gold hidden there.”