Moon Underfoot
Page 8
“Bailey just called and said the magnets need to be off-white,” Walter remarked to Bernard.
“I’m on it,” Bernard replied.
“She also said that she’s gonna be able to get a copy of the key today.”
“Now we just gotta find out the rest of the safe combination,” Sebastian said confidently.
“That’s easier said than done,” Lucille remarked.
Walter glanced around to make certain no one was eavesdropping. “Guys, I’m starting to get some heat. I got a call early this morning requesting I come down to the store at ten so corporate security can ask me some more questions. They’re very good. I’m not sure where we messed up to allow them to connect the dots to me. I really thought they would snoop around, fire that piece-of-shit manager, and move on. It’s been almost two weeks, and they haven’t let up a bit…I was wrong. I’m sorry.”
“What can we do?” Lucille asked.
“I don’t know. I swear, I’ll never give you guys up if something happens.”
“And us either; it goes both ways,” Sebastian said immediately.
They all nodded as they looked around the table at each other.
“There’s no I in team. We’re a team,” Sebastian said.
Walter smiled. He really liked Sebastian. He had a level head, and he loved to fight for the underdog.
“I’ll know more later today, but to be honest, I’m nervous.”
“Just keep quiet and play dumb, and we’ll all back you up,” Sebastian calmly instructed.
“Act like you got Alzheimer’s,” Bernard said with a chuckle.
Walter appreciated their spirit and knew he could trust them. He hated that his plan had potentially gotten everyone into trouble. They didn’t deserve the humiliation that would follow the public scrutiny. He had to devise a means of deflecting the attention. Walter had an awful lot on his mind.
“Guys, I think we should slow down the formation of the foundation for a bit. If Kroger’s security brings in the police and they find out we started a foundation shortly after the money went missing, it could lead to more questions that we don’t want to answer.”
“He’s right,” Sebastian said as he sipped his coffee.
“So, are we going to”—Lucille looked around the room nervously—“you know, rob the Gold Mine?”
Walter was drinking a Code Red Mountain Dew for its maximum caffeine effect. “I think so. It’s too good an opportunity to pass up.”
They all nodded their agreement, and Lucille began to tear up, thinking of how this was going to help Bailey.
Through sniffles, Lucille said, “Walter…what if we get in the Gold Mine safe and there’s two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in there? Why can’t we give Kroger back their money? We’d be back to square one. Even Steven. All Bailey needs is enough to disappear and get her business started; twenty thousand would do it.”
Everyone agreed that it seemed like a good, workable idea.
Walter slowly looked around the group. He knew it was a good idea and nodded his agreement. How to return the money was going to take some thought.
“Walter, you’ve had some great ideas, and I agree that we should delay the foundation until things settle down with Kroger,” Lucille pleaded. “Have our attorney hold up the paperwork and give us a month at least.”
“Yeah, and since we’ve paid her a retainer, have her go with you to the meeting at Kroger today,” Sebastian added.
“Yeah, lawyer up, like they do on tee vee,” Bernard added.
CHAPTER 25
MOON PIE SAT at his desk, working on his ever-expanding to-do list. He imagined that he organized his day as would the CEO of a Fortune 500 company. He went to the Gold Mine early, read several newspapers, and surfed online for market trends and opportunities while eating gas station grits, eggs, and sausage that he picked up every day on the way in. Moon Pie wanted to watch YouTube videos and order all his high-tech gadgets from Amazon while he was on the go. What I really need is an iPad, he thought.
Moon Pie lived in a twenty-year-old single-wide trailer that he rented for two hundred a month, but he had a fifty-inch plasma TV and every satellite and cable channel available. He had wireless Internet and an iPhone, with a long list of apps. All this technology cost twice his rent. That’s how he liked to live…mostly low-key but surrounded with state-of-the-art technology. He had high-tech dishes and antennas along with worn-out tires on his rusty roof. What he didn’t have was a woman. He was gun-shy, and now that he was accumulating some wealth, he was becoming more cautious about getting involved again. Yet he really liked Bailey and thought she was different—trustworthy.
Today was going to be a red-letter day for Ethan “Moon Pie” Daniels and his growing, always-flexible criminal business. He and Levi were scheduled to pick up almost a million dollars that they would then pass to their connections on the Gulf Coast, netting Moon Pie a healthy percentage for being the mule. If they did these monthly transactions as anticipated, he would be raking in some serious coin.
Moon Pie wanted to move to the past—the old South, complete with the stars and bars—and become Colonel Reb. With his cash, he was going to buy an old antebellum home and restore it to its glory. That was his dream.
Lately he had grown more concerned about security. Last night he thought he had been followed, so he had postponed his drop. After a quick loop through Aliceville, he had finally realized they hadn’t been tailed. He laughed at his paranoia and explained to Levi that it came with the territory.
Moon Pie was so relieved that they torched Jake Crosby’s camp house as an afterthought. He enjoyed knowing that he was torturing Crosby. After stealing the only items of value in the camp, he and Levi had dripped a mixture of diesel fuel and gasoline through the small cabin and dropped a match.
Jake had two deer-head mounts, a big ten and a heavy eleven-point that would both score over 160 inches, and a couple of nice-size bass. Moon Pie figured the deer heads were worth about five grand each. He’d wholesale them to his taxidermy buddy, which would net him about half. The financial score alone had made the night worthwhile.
When Bailey walked through the back door of the Gold Mine the next morning, she saw the two deer mounts on the floor and didn’t think anything of them. There was always some kind of critter lying on the back-room floor—mostly antlers of a fresh kill or something already mounted, ready to hang. Currently in the back room there was a full-bodied African lion she knew Moon Pie had stolen from a doctor’s camp. She had overheard a telephone conversation about how Moon Pie was waiting on a buyer from Texas to come get it.
The last several years of Bailey’s life had been challenging. Her mother’s prolonged illness and eventual passing had forced her to grow up fast, and she had missed out on most of her teen years. She’d been left with no choice, but she was not bitter or resentful. She loved and respected her mom for everything she had done alone. When Bailey was four, in the middle of the night, her father abandoned his only child and her mother, leaving them $40,000 in debt. Bailey’s mother didn’t say anything bad about him or the situation; she just found a second job and worked six days a week for twelve years. She never took a penny of government money.
After her mother became ill, Bailey tried for a semester to manage a college workload while taking care of her, but as the leukemia progressed, so did her mother’s need for constant care. Bailey dropped out of school. Medicaid helped with expenses, but the associated costs, coupled with the loss of her mother’s income, quickly drained their meager savings. Bailey was forced to sell her mother’s car, all of the family heirlooms, such as they were, and then their small, modest home. By the end, Bailey had managed to pay down the medical bills to a balance of ninety-five hundred dollars. She was steadily chipping away at the debt, making monthly payments while dodging other creditors.
When Bailey discovered that her boyfriend had been stealing from her, she began thinking about how that money in Moon Pie’s safe could solve her pr
oblems. It got to the point where it was all she could think about. She had never stolen anything in her life. She wasn’t a criminal—yet. But knowing there were stacks of cash just lying around was very tempting, almost overwhelming. The pressure of collection agencies and a desire to get away from her abusive, addict boyfriend had begun to help her justify stealing the money. All I gotta do is figure out that safe combination.
Fighting back her anxiety, Bailey took a deep breath as she tried to settle the nauseous feeling in her stomach. She placed her lunch inside the mini-fridge and then knocked on Moon Pie’s office door.
“Yeah?” Moon Pie hollered.
Bailey slowly entered the cluttered office. “Hey, Moon, do you still need me to drive for your trip?”
“Damn, you look good!”
“Be serious.”
“I am.”
“Then be realistic.”
“No, I don’t. Levi got out…but I do need you to pick me up an iPad this morning.” Bailey already knew Levi was out because they had traded text messages earlier.
“An iPad?”
“I gotta be connected and workin’ when I’m travelin’.”
“Okay, I’d be glad to,” she said, relieved, and then she realized that she had a rare opportunity. “Can I take your truck? My car’s actin’ up. I think it’s my battery.”
Moon Pie never questioned her motives. “Yeah, sure. Here’s the keys, and fill it up while you’re out.”
Moon Pie gave her a sleazy smile as he openly appraised her from head to toe. She was wearing jeans, Ugg boots, and a Drake jacket he was sure belonged to Levi that concealed what he considered her best assets.
“Here, let me get you some money,” he said, turning around in his chair toward the safe. She strained to see the numbers, but his shoulders blocked her view. She distinctly heard six beeps as numbers were punched, just as Walter had explained. After the final beep, the safe’s lock clicked. Moon Pie turned the handle and then swung open the door. He reached inside for a stack of bills and then started counting.
“Here’s a grand. I gotta have it by one o’clock today. I’ll learn about the iPad while Levi’s drivin’.”
“Okay, I can handle that.”
“Thanks, babe.” He noticed her scanning the safe but didn’t say anything about it. “Try not to wreck it.”
“No problem.”
“Hey, what’s the matter? Need some money?”
“Nothing. Nope. I’m good,” she replied. She took the cash from his hand and quickly walked out of the office.
CHAPTER 26
SAMANTHA WAS NERVOUS about her meeting with Walter and the Kroger security team. Her appearance on behalf of Walter would be a complete surprise to them, but the advantage was theirs because effectively everything discussed would be new to her. Although Walter had briefed her, she really didn’t know what she was walking into, and she didn’t have time to prepare. She asked Walter as many questions as she could and grabbed her coat. Since he now really needed a lawyer, she didn’t have any qualms about keeping the retainer. This was why she had gone to law school. She wanted to help those who couldn’t help themselves. As she drove to the Kroger, she prepared by pushing the knowledge of her clients robbing the store to the back of her mind.
Walter parked his car next to a distant light pole in the Kroger parking lot, exactly as Sam had directed. She watched and then pulled her green Volkswagen Bug over next to him.
“Cute car,” Walter said as he opened Sam’s door for her.
“One more time, I need to know what you’ve told them.”
“I haven’t said shit…excuse me…I-I’m just nervous. I’ve just answered their questions about that night, what I did, what I saw.”
“Okay, good. I understand. I’m nervous too,” she said in a moment of anxious honesty and immediately wished she hadn’t. She quickly added forcefully, “I’m going to find out the tenor of this meeting and decide my next move. This may not last long at all.”
“These guys don’t show any emotion. They’re impossible to read. They make me nervous.”
“You’re nervous because you’re guilty,” she said, bending over to check her makeup in her car’s side mirror.
“Yeah, okay, so why are you nervous?”
“Because you’re guilty…and this is my first real case. Okay?” she said as she reached inside her car and grabbed her briefcase and a scarf, which she wrapped around her neck as she headed for the store.
“Your first case?”
“Yep. They say you always win your first. Don’t you feel lucky?” She smiled to hide her tension.
“Not especially.”
Sam glanced up at the giant building and saw security cameras pointed downward, presumably recording everyone and everything. “Actually, neither do I. But what’s the worst that could happen?”
“I could go to prison.”
CHAPTER 27
JAKE PARKED HIS truck in front of the Pickens County Sheriff’s Office and surveyed what he could see from his truck. Aliceville, Alabama, like much of the rural South, particularly in the Black Belt, had endured a rough couple of decades, maybe longer. Times had obviously been better, but people still held fast to small-town life and tried to maintain it. A shrinking tax base, however, made it all the more difficult.
Jake remembered his dad telling him that in the 1940s during World War II, Aliceville had one of the largest prison camps of German and Italian prisoners of war. At one time, the prison had hosted nearly six thousand POWs, some from the infamous Afrika Korps who fought under General Rommel. It was a significant part of Aliceville’s history that easily could be forgotten, since the prison camp had long been gone, except for one huge stone chimney.
Jake had already been to see his camp house, or what was left of it. Everything was gone except for the chimney. Just like the prison camp, Jake thought. The pile of ashes that had been his family retreat was still smoldering. Nothing of value had survived the hot, consuming fire, and yet less than forty yards away was a huge river of cold water. A number of family antiques that weren’t really worth much were gone, along with dozens of family photos. All Jake could think about was arson. It had to be arson.
Jake pushed open the sheriff’s office front door and announced, “I’m Jake Crosby. I’m here to see the sheriff.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll get him for you,” an older black lady in a deputy’s uniform offered.
Jake glanced around and thought about his time in the Sumter County Sheriff’s Office. Not much difference. Probably had the same interior decorator, he thought.
Jake saw an office door open, and a huge, uniformed man with a very friendly face and demeanor waved him on back.
“Jake Crosby?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’m Rosco Blue. Pleased to meet you. Just hate that it’s under these circumstances.” Rosco’s giant hand swallowed Jake’s, but his warm smile kept his enormous presence from being too intimidating. He motioned for Jake to sit.
“I just left out there…it’s a complete loss,” Jake said as he sat in a chair facing the sheriff’s desk.
“Yeah, it is. Most of the time these fish camps like yours and hunting camps scattered across the county…when they catch fire, about all the volunteer firefighters can do is keep the surrounding woods from goin’ up. They can’t ever save the structures…but by golly, they give it their best.”
“I’m sure they did,” Jake replied.
“You ever see ’em respondin’ to a call?” Rosco loved to hear himself talk.
“Uh…no, sir, I haven’t.”
“It’s pretty amazin’. It doesn’t matter whether it’s rural Michigan or backwoods Alabama. Volunteer firefighters are a gung-ho bunch of folks. They live for that call, and they drop whatever they are doin’ and race to the fire. Hell, I’ve seen ’em race each other. I’m sure last night was no different,” the aging sheriff explained.
Jake guessed Sheriff Rosco was about sixty years old and close to retirin
g. He’d probably been in law enforcement his entire adult life. Except for the few extra pounds he was carrying around his waist, this guy could have been Bo Jackson’s twin brother.
“Yes, sir. I really appreciate them tryin’.”
“When I was a state trooper, stayin’ over in Elmore County, we gotta call one afternoon that a car had flipped into a ditch near the top of this really steep hill, right there in the toenails of the Blue Ridge Mountains. At any rate, the responders started comin’ from every direction, and they parked on the side of the road on both sides…and then this ambulance arrived and pulled to the side of the road and opened its side doors out into the middle of the road. Well, as soon as I got outta my cruiser, I could hear a fire truck coming up the hill on the other side, siren blaring and the engine straining. I checked on the guy in the ditch, and he was okay; he was just stuck upside down, and his seat belt wouldn’t release. By now there were twenty or more responders, all in full fire gear, tryin’ to get this poor bastard outta his car, when the fire truck topped the hill at full speed.”
Jake sat still, wondering why Rosco was telling this long story.
“That old fire truck was haulin’ about six thousand pounds of water alone, and when it topped that hill and the driver seen all those vehicles blockin’ the road, he stood on the brakes. That big old truck went to swayin’, and you could see the fear on the faces of the men. There wasn’t nothin’ to do but get the hell outta the way. We all took off running. The truck sideswiped every vehicle except mine and took the ambulance doors smooth off. They finally got the fire truck stopped about a half mile down the hill. I learned a valuable lesson that day: you don’t wanna get between the enthusiasm of volunteer firefighters and their jobs. They got some enthusiasm.”
“That’s an interesting story,” Jake said as he looked around the office at the old pictures.
“Awww, I get to tellin’ stories sometimes and forget what I’m doin’. Sorry ’bout that.”