Free 3 Mango Bay by Bill Myers

enough.”
    When the server returned with our drinks, she asked for our order. Lucy suggested we share a pound of steamed shrimp, and I agreed.
    While we waited for our shrimp, we sipped tea and looked out over Lemon Bay as small fishing boats returned to the marina. Dolphins followed some of the boats, surfing the wakes they left behind.
    The sun was still above the horizon, but it wouldn't be long before we'd see a spectacular sunset over the gulf.
    Our steamed shrimp arrived in a tin bucket and we were provided with paper plates, a roll of paper towels and fresh shrimp sauce.
    We were both hungry and we dug right in.
    It didn't take long before we had a tower of discarded shrimp shells and a mountain of wadded up paper towels in the center of the table.
    Between bites, we talked about the weather, the snow birds, which boats in the marina we'd like to have, and made general small talk.
    The friendly server returned several times, refilling our glasses and removing the discarded shells.
    After we'd finished most of the shrimp, we took a break from eating to watch the sun slowly disappear over the horizon. Lucy patted the bench on her side of the table and said, “Come over here, so you don't have to strain your neck.”
    I moved over, and we sat side by side as the sun went down and the sky above changed color.
    When the sun finally disappeared over the horizon, there was a smattering of applause from the growing crowd of diners and wait staff.
    Our server returned. “Would you like some dessert?”
    I looked at Lucy, then asked the server, “Do you have Key Lime Pie?”
    “We sure do. Made fresh here every day. It's really good.”
    Looking at Lucy, I asked, “What do you think? A slice of Key Lime Pie?”
    She smiled, “Yes. Please.”
    After our server walked away, Lucy said, “That's another point for you.”
    I was still sitting beside Lucy and had no intention of moving back to the other side of the table unless she asked me to.
    On this side, not only was I closer to Lucy, I had a better view of the marina below and the waters of Lemon Bay spread out before us.
    There was a row of small live-aboard boats docked in the marina. Most were unoccupied, stored here by wealthy snowbirds who rarely used them, but were able to tell their friends they had a yacht in Florida.
    To the left of the live-aboards were slips for much smaller fishing boats. And further back, the pumps for the marina fueling stations.
    At this time of the day, with the sun having set, there wasn't much going on in the marina. Most of the smaller boats had already come in from the gulf. But there was still some activity.
    I noticed two men loading what looked like medium sized black suitcases into a small cabin cruiser. This didn't seem too much out of the ordinary, but what caught my attention was the men themselves.
    One had a long gray pony tail. The other had tattoos on his arms and legs.
    “ What are you looking at?” asked Lucy.
    I nodded toward the dock and whispered, “Down there, those two men. They fit the description of PT and Spider. The men your mother told me about.”
    Lucy looked in their direction. “I can only see one of them. The one with the pony tail. It could be PT, but I can't tell for sure.”
    As we watched, the man that looked like Spider climbed into the boat and quickly went into the cabin. After a few seconds, the inboard motor on the boat came to life, and the tall man with the pony tail cast off the line that held them in the slip.
    The boat moved away from the dock and slowly headed out into the Intracoastal waterway, heading north toward Venice.
    Lucy shook her head, “Probably just going out fishing.”
    I nodded. “Probably.”
    But I wondered why fishermen would be loading black suitcases into a boat.
    Our server returned and we turned our attention to the two slices of pie she placed in front of us.
    After her first bite, Lucy smiled. “This pie is amazing. Best I ever had. Wait till I tell Mom.”
    I