by Bobby Cole
“Glad y’all like it. I’ll be right back. Gotta pee,” Jenny said, slinging her purse over her shoulder.
“That girl don’t eat enough to keep a bird alive,” Jesse Ray commented when she had walked off.
“She’s worried about her figure… you can’t fit in those kinda jeans if you eat a lot of these kinda meals,” Clarence explained, holding up a hotdog.
Jesse Ray looked around to ensure that no one could hear and asked, “What’s on your mind for tomorrow?” He then took a sip of sweet tea.
“Assuming everything goes smooth tonight, I’ll go check out where we’re gonna hide out with our new friend. Make sure it’s secure and defensible.”
“Whaddaya want me to do?”
“Create the evidence we’ll plant on the guy—nutten instantly obvious, but discoverable without too much effort.”
Jenny returned and smiled at Jesse Ray. “How was the drive up?”
“Good. All Dog talked about was eatin’,” Jesse Ray said with a burp. “Sorry. Do you know if our guy has a computer?”
“Yeah, for sure at work. The family’s got a computer, but I don’t know if he has personal e-mail. I spoke with the receptionist at his office, and she suggested I leave him a voice mail instead of an e-mail. Apparently, computers aren’t his thing.”
“Have you seen his office yet?”
“Not yet. I was plannin’ on going there tomorrow. You can see the building when we walk outside. It’s the tallest in town,” she responded and then continued in an exaggerated formal manner, “The Tower Agency is having a visit from the insurance carrier on the building—to check their smoke alarms, portable fire extinguishers, and fire suppression system. Thank you very much.” She smiled proudly.
Jesse Ray nodded his head, “That’s a great idea! It’ll get you in every room.”
“Order some supper, and tell us what you know,” Clarence commanded.
Jenny held up two fingers to a waitress, who nodded her understanding.
“Well, the wife’s pretty predictable. Give me two more days, and I’ll absolutely have her pegged. I’ll also have a strong recommendation of where to grab her. She doesn’t work and shops at only the most expensive stores. When not shoppin’, she’s drivin’ her teenage daughter all over town. And, the best I can tell, she and her husband are fairly cold to each other, and that’s probably puttin’ it mildly,” Jenny explained, and then stole a french fry from Jesse Ray’s plate. She continued, “Their house is very open, and the neighbors are everywhere, all the time. Folks are working in their yards or walkin’, walkin’ with dogs, and kids are on bikes or skateboards. No way we grab her there. And her husband works long hours during the week—leaves by six thirty and gets home late every night—and he finds things to do away from the house on the weekends, so he’s not a consideration.”
“What about her exercise habits? Does she, in fact, have a routine?” Clarence asked.
“Yeah. There’s a park a few miles from their house. She walks there almost every evening. Occasionally a girlfriend walks with her.”
“How big is she?” Jesse Ray asked.
“I don’t know… one thirty, maybe. She’s pretty.”
“Think she’ll show up here tonight?” Clarence asked sarcastically.
“I doubt it. But here’s what’s weird: she loves drive-thru fast-food.”
“Hmm. I might actually end up likin’ her then,” Clarence commented. “I want ya to go with us tonight to help keep an eye on the Client. We also need your intuition—your gut feelin’ about this dude.”
“When’s the meetin’?”
“At ten, at a car lot on the east side of town.”
“Cool. I’m in. Pass the ketchup, please.”
CHAPTER 20
Clarence and Jesse Ray followed Jenny to the Eastern Bypass where all the car lots existed. When Clarence suggested it to the Client, he didn’t know the specific car dealership; he just knew that all cities the size of Montgomery had acres of car dealerships strung together by flashing lights, giant inflatable gorillas, and sales banners. A wide-open car lot was a relatively safe meeting place. It was difficult to ambush someone because by simply dropping to the ground, you could see the feet or legs of anyone hiding. There was rarely any hassle about being on a car lot at night as dealers welcomed after-hours shoppers since, statistically, most became actual buyers. The key to selecting the ideal lot was to find a midsized lot with no security cameras, which was much tougher today than just a few years ago. Since overall video camera quality had improved drastically and the prices had fallen, security camera systems had effectually eliminated the need for a human on-site. A motion sensor triggered an e-mail to the lot owner or manager, who then with a few clicks or screen touches looked at a live feed on his computer or smartphone and called 911, if necessary.
Jenny’s instructions were to approach from the south side and pretend that she was car shopping. Jesse Ray and Clarence would make contact while she observed the Client’s behavior from a distance. She would also be on the lookout for police or a security guard.
Jesse Ray brought with him all his electronic gadgets and a very prophetic distrust of outsiders. He always covered the bases, keeping Clarence safe from setups, wiretaps, and eavesdropping. He took his job seriously and was very good at it.
“He’s about two miles out, Dog, headed this way,” Jesse Ray noted as he watched his laptop screen. “I tell ya, that new cell phone tracker is state of the art.”
“J. J., you in position?” Clarence asked Jenny over the radio, not wanting to use actual names on unsecured radios.
“Yep. See him?” she responded from the front seat of her car.
“Not yet, but he’s gettin’ close—go ahead and start lookin’ at cars. We’ll alert you when he arrives.”
“Ten-four. I’ve already got my eye on a used Mustang.”
Clarence took a deep breath and glanced at his watch. 9:55 p.m. The Client was on time. Clarence and Jesse Ray saw a BMW pull into the lot. “That’s him, J. J.” Jesse Ray whispered into the radio headset.
“Looks nervous,” Clarence commented, watching him through binoculars. “He definitely has a bulge in his right front pocket.”
“So do I,” Jesse Ray commented.
“Yeah, but his prolly ain’t electronic gadgets. I sure hope it’s our money and that he’s not packin’ a piece again. I’d hate to hafta make good on my promise to stick it up his ass,” Clarence said.
Both Jenny Johnson and Jesse Ray chuckled quietly over the radio.
“If he’s got heat on him or a wire… or anything, I’ll find it, Dog,” Jesse Ray stated confidently.
“I’m countin’ on it.” Clarence opened his door and headed toward the Client.
Jesse Ray followed with his high-tech gadgetry. He knew Clarence would be using ghetto lingo and that he should play along. Clarence thought it made him more intimidating.
Clarence casually checked out the trucks as he made his way toward the nervous man, all the while studying the Client. The man saw Clarence and began to work his way toward him. For cover, Clarence stopped beside a van. Jesse Ray walked from behind Clarence straight toward the Client, holding out the wand.
Clarence stated, “Yo, dude, I’m allergic to certain insects. My man here’s gonna check you for bugs. Cool?”
“Uh… sure.” The Client held out his arms, away from his waist.
Jesse Ray motioned, “Over here, behind the van.”
Jesse Ray waved his wand all over the Client’s body while Clarence watched carefully, tightly gripping the pistol inside his jacket pocket. He realized his palms were sweating.
Jesse Ray patted the bulge in the Client’s pocket, asking curtly, “What’s that?”
“That’s your money, a map, and some more information,” the Client calmly answered.
“And that?”
“That’s a Coke bottle.”
“He’s clean, Dog.”
“Is that what this is about… you
think I’m a cop?” The Client laughed. “I was thinkin’ the same thing about y’all.”
“Don’t insult me. Show me the cash.”
The Client pulled a bundle of bills from his pocket and tossed it to Clarence, who with his thumb flipped though the bills. He pulled out a random one and began closely inspecting it. He then touched it with a counterfeit detector pen.
The Client said, “That’s fifteen grand. So, now, with that and what I already gave you, you’ve got half your fee. You’ll get the other twenty-five when the job’s done.”
“Plus expenses,” Clarence shot back, wagging the envelope.
The Client nodded his agreement, saying, “Plus expenses.”
Clarence again peeked inside the envelope and again took out one of the hundred dollar bills and examined it. Observing that the Client wasn’t bothered by his repeated checking of the bills, Clarence was finally satisfied and stuffed the envelope into his pocket, thinking, Shit! I wish I’d charged this little turd more. For Clarence, setting fees was one of the toughest aspects of this business.
“Are you still plannin’ to do it as soon as possible?” the Client asked excitedly.
“Yeah, but don’t press me!”
“I’m sorry. I just wanna—”
“Look, we got thangs to do, and I gotta check out this place you got for us to use. How long do we keep her? If it’s more than ten days, my fee doubles.”
“Okay. But I can’t tell you the exact day she’ll be released. After this douche bag has been splashed all over the news and his reputation ruined, we’ll talk. We’ll dump her—alive—somewhere remote, and she’s gotta believe that her husband’s responsible for all of it. Here’s more of what I know about him, some of his habits, stuff like that, so you can drop little clues to her.”
As the Client handed Clarence another envelope, he had an evil twinkle in his eye.
“Fine. What about this place?”
The Client reached into his front pocket. “Here’s a map. The property’s three hundred acres in Coosa County—one of the poorest, most isolated counties in the state. It’s about an hour northeast of here. Here’s the key to the gate and the house. It was the main house of an old plantation. It’s got electricity and runnin’ water. And it’s very remote. Since it belongs to my family, you don’t have to worry about anybody botherin’ y’all.”
Clarence quickly studied the map. Jesse Ray studied Clarence’s expressions and watched the Client out of the corner of his eye. Jenny was still observing from a distance and trying to determine if anyone could be eavesdropping.
“We’re cool.”
“The clues you’re plantin’ need to be found… but not too obvious… and they gotta be incriminatin’.”
“Shut up! I know what the hell I’m doin’! Do you?” Clarence snapped. “You just keep that phone with you and turned on all the time! Ya feel me?!”
The Client jumped back slightly, “Okay, man. Relax. You don’t gotta yell at me.”
Clarence almost laughed. A few harsh words reduced this weasel to tears.
Clarence held up the map and said, “I’ll check it out and call you Thursday night.”
With no small amount of relief, the Client said, a little too excitedly, “Sounds like a plan. Oh, I almost forgot.” He pulled from his pocket a small empty Coke bottle inside a Ziploc freezer bag. He handed it to Clarence.
“Plant that someplace obvious wherever you snatch her.”
“A Coke bottle?”
“Believe me, it’ll point the cops straight to him.”
“His prints?”
“Oh yeah, that too.”
Clarence studied the unusual markings and then handed it to Jesse Ray. “I’ll call,” Clarence said, and then he and Jesse Ray backed away from the Client.
In the toughest-sounding voice he could amass, Jesse Ray added, “We call you. You don’t call us!”
“Man, you are just like my wife: always gotta get in the last word,” Clarence growled in a whisper when they turned to walked away.
“No, I don’t,” Jesse Ray responded.
CHAPTER 21
1ST THURSDAY
Kelly Dixon’s day started just like most. After frantically rushing the kids to get ready, she delivered them to school one minute before the bell. Then she pulled into Starbucks, placing an order at the drive-thru for a cinnamon chip scone and a large caffé latte. It was in the Starbucks parking lot each morning that she planned the balance of her day.
Mrs. Millie Brown, the Dixon’s faithful housekeeper came to their house three days a week to vacuum, wash dishes, change sheets, and do whatever else Kelly didn’t want to do. She would be coming in this morning, provided her high blood pressure wasn’t bothering her too much. Kelly wanted to let her go last year because she had slowed down so much recently, but Cooper wouldn’t allow it. He claimed that Millie needed the money more than they needed the house to be spotless. So Kelly made Millie an extensive to-do list and did her best to ensure that she got it all done.
“That’ll be six dollars and twelve cents,” the drive-thru attendant said.
Kelly opened her huge purse and scrambled to find correct change, removing some of the larger objects during her search.
“Did you know you had your television remote in there?” the attendant inquired. “I’ve never seen anybody carry one around in her purse.”
“Well, I’m doing it just to piss off my husband,” she said without even looking up.
The attendant laughed and said, “How long have you had it?”
“Since last Friday night,” Kelly replied with a smirk.
“Has he noticed it’s missin’?”
“Oh yeah… and I highly recommend it,” Kelly emphasized as she handed the attendant exact change.
“That’s hilarious. I hope you have a great day! Here ya go.” The attendant laughed again as she handed Kelly her order.
Kelly pulled into a parking space to eat breakfast while she studied her Day Planner. She only had a month before the tea, but she felt confident that if she offered to pay a little more, everyone would find a way to get everything done. Her cell phone rang, and she quickly swallowed a bite. Recognizing the number, Kelly pressed Answer and said, “Hey, Gates,” as she placed the phone to her ear.
“Hey, good lookin’! What’s cookin’?”
“Not much. What are you up to this mornin’?”
“Tryin’ to make your husband some money,” he answered with a laugh.
“Make him a bunch. I need it.” She was dead serious.
“You know he isn’t easy to help. Everything has gotta be done a certain way and that really slows down my ideas sometimes,” Gates said, trying to act as if he was in control of work and himself.
“When’s the sale gonna close? Cooper won’t tell me shit. We hardly even speak these days.”
“Not soon enough, but I’m pushin’ hard. I’m confident I can pull it all together shortly. Go ahead, spend the money.”
“Oh, I’m spending it all right,” she said laughing.
“Look sweetheart, I need a favor.” Gates was turning on the charm.
“What now?”
“I need to borrow fifteen grand real fast. As in today.”
“That’s a lot of money. I don’t know. Why can’t you go to the bank or borrow it from the business?”
“My banker’s out of town this week, and I don’t want to risk messin’ up our books because MidState Bank is checkin’ everything very closely. Baby, I really need it or I wouldn’t be askin’. I swear, I’ll pay you back in one week, plus five hundred extra for your troubles. Promise.”
“Cooper will freak if he finds out.”
“One week. It’s important. Coop will never know.”
“Are you gonna tell me what it’s for?”
“I’d rather not. I can say this: it’ll help me sell the business and get you a big-ass payday.” Gates knew that this approach would seal the deal.
“All righty, then. I’ve
got some cash Cooper doesn’t know about, nor does he need to know about it.”
“Understood. When can I get it?” he anxiously asked.
“And you gotta pay me back in a week!”
“Promise. I will, babe.”
“It’s in a safety deposit box. I can get it when the bank opens, but I gotta get dressed first.”
“Great! Call my cell, and I’ll meet ya someplace. Thanks, Kelly. I really appreciate this,” Gates said, with noticeable relief in his voice.
“You okay?” Kelly asked, and then took a sip of her latte.
“Never better… everythin’s fine,” he lied, rubbing his irritated nose. “Just dandy.”
CHAPTER 22
Jenny applied the finishing touches to her lipstick while looking in the rearview mirror. She was parked in front of the RSA Tower. She checked her briefcase and the business cards that Jesse Ray made with his high-end laser printer. The cards looked and felt like a professional offset print job.
Dropping a quarter into the parking meter, she did a quick scan of the area and then started walking toward the twenty-two-story building. Three construction workers leaned against their shovels to watch her. She wore an expensive black business suit. Her hair fell down onto her shoulders. Her only accessory was a single string of real pearls. She looked like a million dollars.
Jenny took the elevator to the eighth floor. When the door opened, she walked out confidently and turned toward the Tower Agency. Opening the glass doors to the office, she quickly took in the surroundings. The receptionist looked up and smiled.
“May I help you?” the lady asked, spinning her chair around to face Jenny.
“Yes, ma’am. My name’s Meagan Massey. I’m with the insurance carrier for RSA Tower. I’m reviewing all the tenants to ensure everything meets the NFPA standards.”
Mrs. Riley just stared blankly, not responding.
“Oh, I’m sorry. The National Fire Protection Agency—the fire codes. It’s just routine,” she explained politely.