The Rented Mule

by Bobby Cole

  Jesse Ray had secured for the group cell phones that never had bills associated with them. Once a month he hacked into the cellular company’s billing service to show the accounts paid in full. Clarence was amazed and wouldn’t make a move without Jesse Ray. Between “jobs” with Clarence, Jesse Ray worked e-mail, credit card, and identity scams. He kept apprised of the latest technology—not reported by the mainstream mass media—through several obscure Deep Web sources. Clarence and Jesse Ray had met at the local Radio Shack and hit it off immediately. Fashion wasn’t high on Jesse Ray’s priority list. Loose-fitting jeans and T-shirts were all he ever wore. He ordered fried snapper with extra hush puppies.

  Clarence’s left hand was a twenty-six-year-old physically fit, attractive female with sandy blonde hair who started her criminal career as a pickpocket. She could think fast, talk sweet, and get herself into and out of most anything. She was tough as nails, cool under pressure, and yet as feminine as the situation and circumstances demanded. They relied on her to run interference, recon jobs, assist in logistical planning, and to be the ultimate distraction when needed.

  No one ever suspected Jenny Johnson of being capable of doing anything wrong. She was a huge asset to the small team. Jenny ordered a grilled chicken Caesar salad and water. Her attire for the day was a tight-fitting pink tank top, khaki cargo shorts, and flip-flops. She turned heads wherever she went.

  Clarence Armstrong had absolute trust and total confidence in his team.

  “Mornin’ Jenny, thanks for comin’,” he said with a mouthful of food.

  “No problem,” she replied as she took a sip of water and swallowed a fat-burner pill. “So what’s up?”

  “Those things work?” Jesse Ray interrupted her.

  “Don’t know. I just started takin’ ’em,” she responded as she put the pack into her purse and then looked at Clarence.

  “We met a guy about an easy job in Montgomery,” Clarence explained, lowering his voice and leaning forward. “This dude wants us to hide a woman—hold her for a week or so—then make it look like she escaped.”

  “Hide and hold?” Jenny asked with a furrowed brow.

  “Well, she’s not exactly gonna be a willin’ participant,” Clarence explained, choosing his words carefully.

  “Officially, we kidnap her,” Jesse Ray inserted excitedly.

  “Kidnap?” Jenny exclaimed and immediately realized she had said the word a little too loudly.

  The group glanced around nervously to see if anyone had heard.

  Clarence exhaled and said, “Look, nobody’s gonna get hurt, and we’ll gross fifty grand!”

  “That’s the best part,” replied Jesse Ray.

  Jenny looked apprehensive.

  “This dude wants us to make it look like her husband kidnapped her. He wants us to frame him by plantin’ evidence so that the police come down on him, hard. And we gotta make her think that he’s responsible. It’s pretty simple, really.” Clarence paused for a moment and then continued, “This is easy money, and nobody gets hurt.”

  “We’re burglars, thieves… we don’t do kidnappings!”

  “True. But the money’s way too good to pass up.”

  “It’s gonna take some serious plannin’ and prep,” Jenny stated flatly to the group.

  “Yeah… here’s what I’m thinkin’. Jesse Ray, we need fresh credit cards. I need Jenny in Montgomery to scout things out. She needs to stay at a nice hotel, downtown, for maybe two weeks. Obviously, these cards can’t burn her while she’s there.”

  “You got it,” Jesse Ray said confidently.

  “Jenny, while you’re there, tail the Target for a few days and find the right spot to grab her. Go to her husband’s office and check it out. We need his e-mail address and anything else you can come up with so that Jesse Ray can put some incriminatin’ shit on his computer. We all gotta think about different ways to frame him. We need to find out his personal e-mail account, and we need to check for a Facebook page, if he’s got one.”

  The waiter returned with their orders, and everyone was silent while he placed their lunches on the giant table.

  “Can I get y’all anything else?” he asked, tossing a towel over his shoulder.

  “No, man, we’re good. Thanks,” Clarence replied.

  When the waiter walked off, Jenny said, “I don’t like it. Kidnappin’s some serious shit. It’s federal.”

  “Look, my contact vouched for this fool, and I’ve seen the color of his money. Y’all help me with the details, and I’ll do the snatch. Jenny, I promise, nobody will get hurt. This’ll be like a vacation.” Clarence smiled as he buttered his potatoes.

  Jenny, thinking about the money, said, “All right, but I want plenty of time to study the setup.”

  Clarence said, “Of course. Go on up there and scope it out… the dude says she walks every day at some park. That may be the place to grab her. Pass the cocktail sauce, will ya?”

  “Okay. I’m in,” Jenny finally said, and then took a small bite of grilled chicken.

  “Jesse Ray, get her anything she needs.”

  They finished their meals, laughing and discussing what they would do with their respective cuts. Jesse Ray wanted a new computer system. Clarence had his eye on a black Hummer, but his two children, Lexus and Mercedes, along with his ex-wife, consumed most of everything that he cleared. Jenny wanted to invest in high-yield mutuals to help achieve her dream of buying a horse farm.

  “Girl, you need to live some,” Jesse Ray exclaimed as he dipped a hush puppy in ketchup.

  “I don’t wanna do this forever,” Jenny stated, matter-of-factly.

  “She’s smart, Jesse Ray.” Clarence winked at Jenny and then stuffed a huge chunk of meat into his mouth.

  As they finished lunch, Clarence held up his glass in a toast, “Here’s to diversifyin’ our business, stayin’ outta jail, and makin’ mo money.”

  “Cheers,” they each said in unison as their glasses touched.

  CHAPTER 7

  1ST MONDAY

  Cooper rolled into his office at 7:10 a.m., before any of the office staff had arrived. He treasured his private time each morning. It allowed him to peacefully eat breakfast and read the newspaper. The last few weeks had been extremely stressful, and he often missed lunch. He still preferred to read a real paper instead of an electronic version, and he spent an extra few minutes enjoying the sports section, anticipating college football season.

  Tossing the newspaper into the trash can, he could hear several employees arriving, laughing while telling stories about their weekend. Cooper walked out into the hallway to listen. He was so proud of the staff. Several advertising awards had proven their abilities to everyone outside the firm. They were extremely talented and had more work than they could turn out.

  Cooper had quickly learned that the real creatives were a bit odd. They certainly had interesting hairstyles, fashion, politics, and coffee, or whatever it was that they called it. The Tower Agency’s reputation was one of creativity and fresh, out-of-the-box ideas.

  As Cooper listened to their stories, he thought about Brooke arriving at her work. He felt compelled to call her. He headed toward his office, stopping first to speak to the receptionist, a pleasant matriarch who took great care of him.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Riley, you look exceptionally nice today,” Cooper sincerely remarked.

  She always loved his compliments. He knew it, so he never hesitated in giving her accolades.

  “Why, thank you, Cooper,” she drawled. “You got some sunshine on your face this weekend.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I took Ben on a dove shoot in Mississippi.”

  “I didn’t know the season was in?”

  “It comes in earlier in Mississippi.”

  “I hope y’all had some fun?”

  “Yes ma’am, we did,” he said with a smile and added, “MidState Bank will be here this morning at ten. Please call Gates and remind him to pick up some hot Krispy Kremes on his way in.”

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sp; “I’m happy to… if I can figure out his current cell number,” she replied contemptuously. “He’s changed it three times this year.”

  “I know. I’ve got it if you don’t.”

  “Why does he have to do that so much?”

  “I’m guessin’ it’s related to some woman. Maybe women.”

  “You’re probably right. Okay, I’ll try to call him.”

  “Thank you,” he said, and then stepped into his office and uncharacteristically closed the door.

  Cooper wondered if it was too early to call. It was 8:30 a.m. She should have had time to drop off her son at school and be in by now. Without thinking of the consequences, he picked up the phone handset and dialed her office number from memory. He drummed on the desktop with a wooden pencil, waiting for an answer.

  “Brooke, please,” he responded, when the receptionist answered.

  Cooper watched the LED display on his phone and counted the seconds until he heard her voice.

  “Hello,” she answered after glancing at the caller ID screen.

  “Brooke?” Cooper asked excitedly, after a deep breath.

  “Yeah, hey there… how you doin’?” Brooke asked as she got up, walked to her office door, and shut it.

  “I’m fine. How was the beach?”

  “Great. Grayson caught a bunch of saltwater catfish, and I caught a flounder,” she said with a slight laugh.

  “No way!”

  “Yes way… Grayson and I love fishin’.”

  “I’m not a big fan of the beach. After a day in the sand and a couple of good meals, that’s ’bout all I need for a year.”

  “I just love eatin’ fresh fish, especially fish that I caught!” she said, trying to curry favor.

  “That’s interestin’.” He made a mental note to talk to her later about her love of fish and fishing. He said, “I was wonderin’ if you could bring me the ad boards later this mornin’?” He was trying to steer the conversation toward business.

  “Sure. I was plannin’ on it. I just got in, and I have several things I need to do first.” She was trying not to sound too eager, but she did blush a little and an eyebrow rose with the hope that Cooper might finally be taking an interest. She had certainly been trying to get his attention.

  Brooke looked at the picture of Grayson on her desk and thought about his needing a positive male role model and how she needed help with her life. She believed that Cooper might be open to options since she had heard rumors that his marriage was less than ideal. In fact, Brooke decided weeks ago to slowly bait the trap.

  Cooper said, “Sure. I understand. I need to look at the art for the new ads, and we need to talk about the presentation.” Cooper was trying to sound earnest about needing to meet.

  “Okay, what time?”

  “Well, Gates and I have a ten, and then he’ll probably want to lunch with ’em.”

  “Don’t you need to be there?” she asked curious.

  “Not at all. Plus, I’ll be tired of talkin’ by then.”

  “I was under the impression that Gates didn’t get that involved in the business anymore?”

  “Yeah, I know… but, well, he is on this deal.” Cooper paused to carefully choose his next words. “Let’s just say that he’s… suddenly gotten interested.”

  “That’s good… I guess.”

  “Maybe. It’s complicated… look, it’s not important. If you can come at twelve, I’ll order us some lunch.” Cooper knew that most of his staff would be gone, especially the relentlessly inquisitive Mrs. Riley.

  “Okay. Sure. That’ll be fun,” she laughed. “I’ll be there… but, please, I really can’t eat a sandwich.” She paused for a brief moment, as though she had never run this scenario before, and then added, “Look, how ’bout I bring you a meat and three from Martin’s, and I’ll get something for me?” Brooke was grinning as she pushed her hair behind her right ear. The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach… and this body.

  “Great! That sounds perfect.” There was a brief pause in which Cooper could hear someone talking in Brooke’s office.

  “Look, I gotta run. See you around twelve. Okay?” she quickly said, excited about having some private time with Cooper. It had taken her a little over two months to get to this point with him. She hated to get off the phone, but didn’t have a choice due to her unexpected visitor.

  “Okay. I can’t wait to see the boards. Bye,” Cooper replied and then hung up. He leaned back in his chair. Forget the boards, I just wanna see those tan legs.

  It seemed as though they never got to talk very long—certainly never long enough to really get to know each other. Brooke was very mysterious. Thinking about her was exhilarating. His home life was boring, predictable. His marriage was stagnant, loveless. The imagined concept of Brooke nudged Cooper to the edge.

  Glancing at the clock, he realized that in just over three hours she would be there. Right there. Sitting in his office. He was much more excited about seeing her than he was about the guys from MidState Bank. Cooper had to force himself to gather the P&L documents to study in preparation for the bank meeting. Dammit, I gotta quit thinkin’ ’bout those suntanned legs.

  CHAPTER 8

  Jenny Johnson arrived in Montgomery with about $2,000 in cash, a recently activated Visa card, and a new cell phone. She knew her way around the city, having grown up in Clanton, just up I-65, about halfway to Birmingham.

  With two Louis Vuitton knockoffs packed with everything she could possibly need for a week of scouting and a few weeks holding the hostage, Jenny checked into the chic Renaissance Montgomery Hotel & Spa downtown, looking like a weary business traveler in need of a quiet night’s sleep. When asked, Jenny casually explained to the bell captain that she was in town for a computer software conference. The hotel was only a few blocks away from Montgomery’s tallest building, the RSA Tower—home of the Tower Agency.

  After valeting her nondescript white Honda Accord with bogus tags, she went to her room to unpack and organize her things. Jenny had brought a wide array of clothing. She had everything from business suits to jogging outfits. She made a mental note of the rooftop swimming pool, hoping that she would have a chance to bronze in the sun.

  Jenny lay across the king-size bed and pulled an equine magazine from her oversized purse. She loved horses and hoped to spend some time looking at the horse farms on the east side of Montgomery.

  After graduating from high school, Jenny had been a cheerleader for the Atlanta Falcons for one season. She tolerated being scantily clad and underpaid, hoping that better opportunities would come her way. It was through the football team that she met Clarence Armstrong and her career was redirected. They were attending an after-game party for the elite when he witnessed Jenny lifting a businessman’s wallet while the businessman was busy patting her backside. Jenny didn’t think anybody noticed, but Clarence had and was very impressed. With the ease in which she worked, he could tell she had a penchant for crime.

  Although Jenny had received plenty of offers for both, she would never be a kept woman, nor would she marry for money. Marriage was sacred to her, based on love founded on shared values, mutual respect, and unreserved trust. It didn’t matter that she had yet to find the right guy. She planned to be established before she got married anyway. The young woman had watched others become slaves to credit card debt, car notes, and mortgages, struggling against the bank yet never getting ahead or even catching up. Her ultimate goal was to own, free and clear, a forty-acre horse farm. Ideally, she wanted to do this before turning thirty—just a few years away.

  Jenny’s life track was determined early when her mother unexpectedly left her and her father. Jenny did her best to take care of him, but he started drinking heavily and gambling. He had worked all his life training racehorses only to have his small farm and everything he owned seized by the IRS. He had quit paying income taxes to satisfy his bookie. Depression gripped him tighter and tighter until one gloomy Sunday morning Jenny found him hanging by the nec
k in the barn.

  Her past gnawed at her, and her father’s death haunted her—driving her need for total independence. The past pain calloused her to the effects of her criminal activities. She really didn’t know what she was capable of doing, and she was gradually testing those boundaries. Now, she was in a hotel room planning a kidnapping for her share of a big payday. Great money for a few weeks of work, she thought as she put away the magazine and pulled out her surveillance notes.

  Once Jenny carefully studied the details, she decided to grab something to eat and then take a drive past the Target’s house before dark. A quick Yahoo Maps search produced a diagram of the Wynlakes Golf and Country Club, a first-class private club located within a ritzy residential community. She was careful not to search for the Target’s specific address, nor give hers for driving directions. She knew not to trust the Internet with anything that she didn’t want broadcast on prime-time network television. She had seen firsthand what Jesse Ray could do through it and with it.

  After a few wrong turns within the neighborhood, she finally found the house. The two-story Tudor appeared well maintained, with fresh landscaping. She couldn’t tell if anyone was home since there wasn’t a car parked in the driveway and the big garage door was closed. Several neighbors waved to her as she drove by them. It was obvious that the house was not a viable location for the grab—too many nosey neighbors.

  Jenny needed to confirm the information that the Client provided regarding the Target’s daily habits, and she hoped to learn something that would advance their purposes. The Client had stated that the Target regularly walked at a park, not too far from her home, and most often alone. That location sounded much more promising than her home.

  Driving through the neighborhood, Jenny familiarized herself with every detail. She wrote down exact mileage, noted stop signs, speed bumps, red lights, locations of loose dogs, kids riding bikes or shooting hoops, and any other potential to cause delays or issues. Satisfied that she had observed and recorded everything that she could until making visual contact with the Target later in the evening, Jenny left the subdivision, waving casually to a different guard than the one she had sweet-talked earlier in order to gain access into the gated community.