by Bobby Cole
“Or he could be standin’ us up!” Clarence said with distrust in his voice.
“Want me to track him?” Jesse Ray asked.
“Yeah, go ahead. If he don’t answer in ten minutes, we’ll go find him.”
“Could be a simple reason,” Jenny offered optimistically.
“It had better be; we’ve done everything he wanted. He’s gonna pay up.”
Jesse Ray launched the computer program to track the GPS coordinates of the cell phone they gave to the Client. “It’ll take a few minutes.”
“Y’all hungry?” Clarence asked. “There’s a Mexican joint back up the road.”
“I could eat something; I can always eat somethin’,” Jesse Ray added.
“Let’s go… I’m cravin’ some chicken fajitas,” Clarence explained.
CHAPTER 72
Detective Obermeyer walked with purpose up the stairs to his perfectly organized desk. When his phone rang it surprised him, but palming it out of his pocket he immediately recognized the number. He quickly set down his briefcase and watched it ring twice more. Taking a deep breath, he thought how he’d handle the call, finally deciding to just follow his instincts.
On the third ring, he answered, “Detective Obermeyer.”
“Detective, I don’t know what the hell’s going on, but I was checkin’ my BlackBerry about twenty minutes ago, and it looks like someone sent you some really crazy shit from my computer!” Cooper yelled.
The detective quickly realized that Cooper’s PDA was synchronized with his desktop and when the detective caused the e-mails to be forwarded to him, they showed as sent mail on his handheld unit. Damn it! I shoulda been more thorough.
Cooper continued, “And they were sent to you! What the hell’s goin’ on?”
“I really need you to come downtown… or tell me where you are, and I’ll come to you. We need to talk,” the detective said. He thought, I need to get a rope around Cooper quick.
“I don’t think so… you think I did it. Don’t you?”
“Did what?”
“You know damn well what—that I had somethin’ to do with my wife’s disappearance!”
“I just want you to explain the e—”
“I can’t explain ’em. I’ve never seen those e-mails in my life!” Cooper interrupted.
“Okay, that’s fine. I understand, but we really do need to talk in person. Where are you?”
“I should call a lawyer first.”
“Do you need one?”
“Yeah, apparently I do since you’ve decided that I’m guilty. I don’t need one, but I sure as hell want one!”
“Just let me come get you.”
“Free ride downtown right? You gonna arrest me?”
“I’ll be honest, Cooper. It’s all pointin’ at you,” Obermeyer stated and suddenly wished he hadn’t.
“This is bullshit! I haven’t slept in days, my kids are freakin’ out, my phone’s not stopped ringin’, TV crews are camped outside our house… I just want my wife and my life back,” Cooper said, sweating and panicked.
“Where’s Kelly now? I can help you.”
“I don’t know.”
“Where’s she hidden?”
“I. Don’t. Know! Aren’t you listening? How can you say it’s pointin’ at me?!”
“The e-mails for one.”
“They aren’t mine! I swear to you. I’ve never seen them before. Besides, what’s my motive?”
“I haven’t got that figured out yet. I have a lot of other unanswered questions, for example, I can’t account for where you were Saturday night.”
“I told you. I was at my huntin’ camp.”
“Can anyone confirm your alibi?”
“Not exactly, but I was there.” Cooper wished now that he had gone to the football game so that someone could vouch for him.
“Gates stated that you were at the game.”
Cooper was stunned for a moment. “Gates is lying. He thinks I’m havin’ an affair and is tryin’ to cover for me.”
“So are you?”
Cooper was silent. The detective tried to allow the silence to force a comment. After a few seconds, he decided to shock a response.
“I talked to the private investigator Kelly hired to follow you.”
“I expected you would,” Cooper replied.
“He said there was such a big crowd at the game, you gave him the slip. He said he could feel it in his bones that something was about to happen, and then it just vaporized. Like you got tipped off.”
The detective was surprised by Cooper’s silence. He then added, “Evidently, you’re pretty slick, or the PI got started late.”
“Obviously, they aren’t any good, or they’d know that I was at my camp Saturday night, alone, and not at the ball game. Look, I don’t know what’s happenin’!”
“It may come as a surprise to you, but kidnappings are rare in the United States. They occur in Central America and along the Mexican US border but not around here. So what’s going on, Cooper? Why did you kidnap your wife? Help me help you.”
“I’m trying to help. Somebody’s settin’ me up.”
“That’s why you need to come in and explain some things to us.”
“No, I need to think. I’ll get back in touch later.”
“If you don’t come in now, I’m goin’ to the media. And when I do, they will unleash a world of shit on you. Do you understand me?”
“I understand that you aren’t doin’ your freakin’ job or you’d know it’s not me.”
“Oh, I believe we’ve found who’s responsible.”
“You’re wrong. I’m not comin’ in.”
“Officers are on their way to your house right now. They’ll be there in five minutes. If you’re not there, I’ll ping your cell. I’ll find you. When the media gets ahold of this, you won’t be able to hide under a rock. Wise up; it’s over, buddy boy.”
Cooper had been driving home on the interstate when the e-mails caught his attention. As he talked to the detective, two black-and-white units raced past on the service road, lights flashing but no sirens. He knew that he couldn’t go home and that he needed to turn off his cell phone. Panic gripped him. Common sense was telling him to go “downtown,” but some deeper portion of his brain drove him to run, stay free, and do what he could on his own to find Kelly. He didn’t know where to start or how to look, but he knew that if he were locked in a cell, it wouldn’t help anyone. I gotta find Kelly and figure out why I’m bein’ set up.
“I’ll be in touch.” Cooper broke the connection and then removed the cell phone’s battery.
“Cooper! Cooper! Damn it!”
The detective grabbed his briefcase and charged up the stairs to talk to his waiting commander and the Montgomery County district attorney.
CHAPTER 73
The Client finally answered the disposable phone, giving a ridiculous excuse for his delay that provoked screams of anger from Clarence. The Client simply hung up in the middle of Clarence’s expletive-rich rant. He had no intention of paying the balance due and realized he may have to kill Mad Dog and his pint-sized helper. I can do that, he thought.
When the phone rang again, he decided to provoke Mad Dog. He was feeling indomitable. “I already told you why I couldn’t talk.”
“You better listen to me, you worthless little piece of shit. I know who you are. I know where you work, and I know where you live.” Clarence calmly continued, “Think carefully. I see loads of excruciatin’ pain in yo future if you make the wrong decision.”
The Client started to panic. Due to the effects on his brain from his drug abuse, he hadn’t thought things completely through.
“Listen to me, you little prick, if you don’t pay what you owe me, plus five grand for expenses, plus another five thousand for hanging up on me just now, I’m gonna hunt you down, and when I find you, and I will, I’m gonna tie your little pecker to a trotline weighted with a lawn mower engine and drop your sorry, pasty-white ass in the middle of the Alabama
River. You feel me?”
In a tone suggesting that this all had been a complete misunderstanding, he said, “I’ll pay, man. All of it. I’m sorry. I’ve just been tied up with some unexpected business… that’s all. I promise. Relax, dude.”
“Don’t tell me to relax. Just pay me all my freakin’ money. Today! Am I clear?”
“Yeah, yeah, I… I… I just need a few hours, that’s all. I’ll call. I swear.”
“You’ve got two hours, and then I’m comin’ for ya.”
“It’s not a problem. By the way, great job with the media. I’m really impressed with your work.”
“Shut up! You’re wastin’ time! Now you’ve got an hour and fifty-nine minutes,” Clarence said angrily and hung up the phone.
Clarence wanted out. His back and kidneys hurt, and he needed to rest for a few days, without all the stress and worries. Nobody ever thinks about criminals having problems. He chuckled as he remembered a burglary he was committing where his cell phone rang at the worst possible time. It was an ex-wife calling to inquire about an old tax return.
The Client stared at the small phone and knew he had to think of something pretty quick. He had enough cash; he just hated parting with it. Turning the television volume up on a CNN report, his spirits were instantly lifted as he learned that the Montgomery police now considered Cooper Dixon a person of interest. This news energized him, although he hadn’t slept in four days. Smirking as he admired his own brilliance, he grabbed a small travel bag and began planning to make it look like it was packed full of cash.
CHAPTER 74
Cooper didn’t know where to go or how to get started, so he drove around aimlessly on side streets. He found himself close to the police station and struggled with whether he should see Obermeyer. He then drove downtown, past the Capitol building and the Southern Poverty Law Center, the Montgomery-based organization that helped bring down the Klan. Seeing the Law Center reminded him that he better get a good attorney.
Cooper couldn’t go home, couldn’t go to the office, and couldn’t use a credit card. There was no doubt that in the next few hours everyone in Montgomery would know his face. Hiding in town was going to be nearly impossible, so he drove to the only place he felt secure. It was remote, and no one would think to look for him there.
When he pulled into Millie Brown’s long gravel driveway, he felt the truck slightly shift as Dixie excitedly paced in the bed. Shit, I totally forgot she was back there!
Millie and Haywood Brown’s home was a well-maintained, old shotgun-style house with a tin roof, located far off the old part of Wares Ferry Road. In the late fifties, prior to the tragic car accident, when their kids were just babies, the family moved from their farm—the property Cooper wanted to buy. The Browns sought to get their children into a good school system and hoped to find good paying work.
The area around the Browns’ home was once part of a huge plantation that the expanding metro area of Montgomery was slowly absorbing. Most of the cotton fields had been replaced with subdivisions, but the suburban creep hadn’t quite reached the Browns’ property. Spanish moss was blowing in the breeze as the sun set across the field.
Walking slowly toward the house, Cooper eyed the large cur dog that walked a worn path and barked aggressively from inside an old chain-link fence. Both Millie and her husband were home. Their only vehicle, an old Dodge pickup was parked under the tiny carport. Cooper jumped back when he noticed a dead snake hanging near the gate. Giving it a wide berth, he also carefully watched the dog as he knocked on a raw wooden column. Dixie barked, too, but knew better than to jump out of the truck.
“Rolex! Hush up!” Millie said as she opened the door and swatted her leg with a rolled newspaper. “Lordy Cooper, whatcha doin’ here?”
“Miz Millie, I… I don’t have anywhere else to go,” he said obviously stressed but managing a smile.
“They’s saying all kinds of crazy things ’bout you on the TV.”
“I know… but I didn’t do any of it,” he replied, watching the growling dog.
“Honey Child, I know that.”
“Can I stay here tonight? I need to figure out what to do next.”
“You sure can, Precious. Come on in here… shut up, Rolex!”
“First, is there someplace I can hide… I mean park my truck, so it can’t be seen from the road?”
“Sure, pull it round behind the barn. Shut up, Rolex! She ain’t used to white peoples.”
“That’s okay. Thank you, Miz Millie.”
“Lord, child. I done raised ya… I’d do anythang for ya. You ain’t gotta thank me. Go park that truck, and I’ll fix you up some supper. You look hungry.”
“Yes, ma’am. That sounds really good.”
“I’ll tell Haywood you’s here. Lord have mercy, Cooper; you in a peck a trouble, but I’ze proud you’s here.”
Cooper hid his truck behind the old barn, between two bushy fig trees. He instructed Dixie to stay, promising to bring her some food and water later. Cooper shook his head, wishing he had noticed that the dog had jumped in the truck earlier—when he could have taken her back home. Dixie was always sneaking into his truck and rarely, if ever, obeyed him. The overweight Lab loved to smell the world as she rode in the back.
Walking slowly back to the Browns’ house, Cooper knew he was safe for a little while and needed whatever time he had to plan his next move. By now, he expected that the media would be destroying him. How’d my life get so crazy? Why in the hell would someone kidnap Kelly? Why hadn’t they asked for a ransom? It’s easier to get my head around her being off ’cause she thought I was cheatin’.
As he opened the Browns’ screen door, Rolex erupted into another outburst of barking.
“Hush up, Rolex, or I’m gonna knock ya into tomorrow with this here broom! Come on in here, Cooper,” said Millie excitedly.
Cooper slowly stepped past the dog and was thankful when the door shut. The house smelled of fried foods. The furnishings were old and simple. Mr. Haywood Brown was sitting in a well-worn recliner, watching the news, shelling the last butter beans of the year. He stood up and shook Cooper’s hand, welcoming him into their home. The floor shook and pictures on a wall rattled when Cooper walked inside.
The house was exactly how he remembered it from his youth: small, warm, and comfortable. Each Christmas Eve his parents would deliver gifts to the Browns, and Cooper always rode along. Since marrying Kelly, Cooper just gave Millie a gift at his house, which suddenly felt insincere.
“Good evenin’, Mr. Brown.”
“Evenin’, Cooper.”
“Guess you’ve heard about the mess I’m in.”
“Them news peoples seems to think you been pretty busy,” Haywood remarked with a sly grin as he rolled up the butter-bean hulls in yesterday’s newspaper.
Cooper nodded at the newspaper. He knew his picture was in it, but he couldn’t bring himself to read what was being said, so he asked, “Is it bad?”
“Well… I say they don’t know you like we do, Son,” he said with a comforting smile that Cooper appreciated.
“That’s right. Now Cooper, come on here and sit down. I gots cream peas, cabbage, fried okra, and fried chicken,” Millie said as she tied on a white cotton apron and continued, “and some biscuits with homemade fig preserves.”
“That sounds mighty good, Miz Millie; I wish I was hungry,” he said, sitting down at the worn oak table. The chair creaked under his weight. Millie was old and slow, but in the kitchen she floated with grace. She smiled, obviously enjoying preparing the meal. Cooper hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he saw the chicken. He hadn’t eaten a decent meal in days.
“Haywood and I ate ’bout thirty minutes ago, but I always makes too much,” she explained, wiping her hands on her apron. “It’s hard cookin’ just for two.”
“Rolex eats real good though,” Haywood said from across the room, and then added, “The peas need salt. She don’t never put enough salt on ’em.”
“
Now Haywood, you knows I‘s watchin’ yo pressure.”
Cooper smiled. The meal was a cholesterol-scale tipper, but he wasn’t complaining.
“Here’s one of them little Co-Colas you likes so much,” Millie offered as she sat the six-ounce bottle on the table. “But they ain’t from Mexico though.”
“Thank you, Miz Millie.”
“Haywood likes ’em too,” she said, smiling at her husband. Cooper noticed the love in her eyes.
“I have a six-pack of Mexican Cokes in my truck that I’ll leave with you; he’ll love ’em,” Cooper whispered to her.
“Oh thanks, Honey Child. He’ll drink ’em all. Now here’s ya food.” Millie set the plate of reheated food in front of Cooper and smiled at him. “Now, I’m gonna tell you just like I’d told my own chirruns. Iffin you gonna eat my food, you gotta listen to me talk. I’s been round a long time, and I’s knows things.”
Cooper nodded his understanding and consent, though he was mentally exhausted and didn’t want a lecture. The food’s aroma was too much to resist. He was now starving and would have agreed to any terms she demanded. But deep inside, he knew Millie had something worth hearing. He certainly didn’t have the answers, and she was by far the happiest person he knew.
As he picked up his fork and scooped up some peas, Millie started saying grace. He set down the fork. After blessing the food and Cooper’s health and praying for his safety, protection, and future, she nodded at his plate, indicating that he could eat.
Millie sat down and smoothed the tablecloth in front of her. Her hair was solid gray, and her hands bent from arthritis. She was overweight. Cooper had never seen her wear anything but a cotton dress, white stockings, and a sweater.
In a sweet, calm voice she began, “Now Cooper, let me ax you, what’s goin’ on wit you and Miz Kelly?”
Cooper chewed a second forkful of peas as he looked around the kitchen and then said, “Miz Millie, I don’t have any idea what happened to her or where she is.”
“Mmhhmm. You got to knows somethin’. Be straight wit me.”