I have the ledgers.
Nate rubbed his temples with his free hand. Now the call made sense – it all made sense, actually. His dad hadn’t gone on a tirade because he was mourning Charlotte’s death. He was upset because she had the ledgers. Now Fast Eddie had them, but without Doc Mayes, he had no way to access the cash, and without Fast Eddie, Doc Mayes didn’t either.
The fact that these two parasites needed each other to carry out their illicit ways made Nate chuckle, but he didn’t allow himself time to gloat. Eddie would soon follow-up with his dad to complete the transaction, and Nate had to move quickly to stay ahead of them. He glanced at the clock on his nightstand.
He would call Matt as soon as the Saints game was over.
Chapter 54
When I got home from Mark’s, my mom told me I had two calls. One from Nate, and one from Emily. Of course, I called Emily first. I needed some privacy, so I stretched the cord of our hall phone as far as I could, and it was just long enough to make it into my room – with the door closed. Granted, I had to lie on the floor with my head jammed near a baseboard so the cord could slide under the door, but with some adjustment, it wasn’t all that bad.
We talked for three hours straight.
I don’t remember exactly what was said, but we learned more about each other that night than we had ever known, and the more we talked, the more I wished I could morph right through the line to be next to her. I wondered how cool it would be if they ever made videophones, but the more I pondered it, the more I concluded it could be a mixed blessing. A little mystery was good.
By the time we hung up, it was long after ten, and I thought about calling Nate. They were so squirrely over there, though, and I didn’t know how they would react, so I grabbed some Doritos, took a shower, and hit the sack.
* * *
It was raining cats and dogs when I woke up, and even though I ran through the parking lot, I still got pretty wet by the time I made it inside the hallway, and was cutting it close for class. But I didn’t mind. I was still riding high from all that yarn spinning the night before with Emily, and just as promised, she was waiting by my locker wearing a J. Crew rain anorak. I tried to act cool and pump the brakes, but I just couldn’t hold back, and when I got up next to her, I gave her waist a little hug. She leaned up and gave me a quick peck on the cheek – a huge violation of St. John’s PDA rules – but the fact that she risked it told me everything I needed to know. I stepped in a little bit closer to talk, but, as if on cue, Nate butted in.
“Frazier! Hey man, why didn’t you – oh. Hey, Em.”
“Hey, Nate,” Emily said. “You’re mighty spry for a Monday morning.”
“Yeah, well. Got a good night’s sleep for a change. What up, Frayz?”
“Nothing, Nate.” I rolled my eyes over toward Emily and raised my eyebrows. “Dude, we got to stop meeting like this.” Nate clearly got the hint, but he continued talking.
“Did you get my message? I called you last night.”
“Yeah, but it was late, so –”
“Look, uh, do you have some time to chat?” He was almost whispering, and he kind of tugged on my shoulder to get my attention. I did not appreciate the interruption.
Emily squeezed my hand. “Talk to you later.” She winked. “Looks like you got a better offer.” She turned around and gave me the thumb and pinky ‘call me’ sign.
“Real cool, man.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry. It was a borderline cockblock, so I get it.”
He was babbling and almost manic. “What’s so important, Nate?”
He held one finger to his lips and dropped his voice. “Remember that drop box we discussed?”
“Yeah?”
“Well it was legit. More than you know. You’ve been asking when I was going to fill you in on the details, right?”
“Yep. Shoot.”
He looked up the hall and back to me. “No. Not here and not now. How about after school? Can we meet up at Gulfport Lake?”
“Fine.” Emily had cheerleading practice anyway. “Three-fifteen?”
“Yep,” Nate said. “I’ll see you there. Oh, yeah, be sure and bring Mark and Hop.”
“The whole crew, huh?”
“The whole crew.”
As I walked to class, the rain hitting the roof escalated from a pleasant hiss to a whirring roar and made me wish I was back at home in my bed.
Safe and sound.
Chapter 55
Marty Deen had never been happier to see rain. When it stormed, he didn’t have to work, which meant he could spend all day inside. On any other day, he would have curled up with his blanket and played his Atari – a recent birthday gift from his parents. He loved Space Invaders and hoped to get Pac-Man for Christmas. It was supposed to be awesome.
Ever since he saw that man on his way home, however, even videogames didn’t interest him. He didn’t play anything when he got home from the gallery, and he didn’t even turn it on after church on Sunday, which was his usual routine. He stayed over at his daddy’s house next door, pretending he liked football, and he didn’t go back to his apartment until bedtime. Even then he barely slept.
Seeing that man again was Marty’s worst nightmare coming true. It made Marty wonder, though. If he was really the same bad man, then why didn’t he shoot him? Maybe he didn’t realize Marty had seen him do those terrible things that morning to Mr. Tommy. Maybe it was just a coincidence.
Or maybe it wasn’t, and if it wasn’t, that meant the man was following him. Marty chewed on the corner of his pillow, weighing his options. It might finally be time to tell his daddy what he saw, but he didn’t want to do that because if he did, his daddy wouldn’t trust him anymore.
Suddenly, he stopped rocking and smiled. He had the solution. The lady who was doing his gallery show – Ms. Kathryn – said she worked for the FBI. Marty wondered if she was a secret agent because when he asked her if she had a gun, she wouldn’t tell him. If she did work for the FBI, maybe he could explain to her what happened, and he wouldn’t get in trouble.
Marty clapped his hands in the air and congratulated himself for coming up with a solution. The realization brought a surge of relief, and things started to feel right again. He hopped out of bed, turned on the TV, and popped in an Asteroids cartridge. He was soon flying through space, breaking big rocks into smaller rocks, and shooting at spaceships that happened to get in his way.
Yeah, he would definitely talk to Ms. Kathryn. They had another meeting at the gallery in a couple of weeks. A real FBI agent. Wow. How cool was that? Maybe he could work undercover one day, too.
After all, no one would ever harm an FBI agent.
He was sure of that.
Chapter 56
It was one of those dank, gray November afternoons that always makes the day feel later than it actually is. It didn’t help that the temperature had dropped from brisk to downright bitter in a span of about six hours. Our blue jean jackets provided very little by way of protection or insulation, and when the final bell rang, we walked to the parking lot with our hands jammed in our pockets and our heads down, trying to make ourselves as small as possible.
The Milk Wagon might not have had a lot of amenities, but the heater that came standard blew like a blast furnace, and shortly after Hop and I climbed in, we went from cold to warm to comfortable in a matter of minutes. It actually worked too well, and by the time we pulled into Gulfport Lake, we had to crack a window and knock the fan down a few notches to provide some much-needed circulation. I parked over by the pier next to a truck we recognized but weren’t necessarily expecting.
“Lance, what are you doing here?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing. Nate called me this morning before school. Said I needed to meet him. Said it was real important.”
“Before school?”
“Yeah.�
� Nate got me again. He had this meeting planned and blocked out long before he approached my locker.
“Well, climb in and wait with us. Here comes Mark.”
Mark pulled up next to Lance and piled in, too.
“It’s cold as balls outside,” he said, settling in and pulling his cap off. “So, what’s this all about?”
“No idea. Nate said he wanted to meet with everyone, so who knows?”
“You think something else happened with his dad?”
“He didn’t say, but it seemed pretty urgent.”
“I saw you and Emily chatting after chemistry this morning,” Mark said. “That seems to be going well.”
“Better each day. In fact, I’m going to meet her for a slice tonight after we leave here.”
“Be careful, she’ll burn a hole in your pocket.”
“Money well spent, dude.” Mark was right. I was going to have to get a job over the holidays. Maybe at Bookland or Thornberry’s. The mall stores always needed people at Christmastime, and it was fairly easy money, even if I did have to go to Biloxi. We chatted for a few more minutes, and just as we began to question whether Nate was going to show, he pulled up on the other side and got out. He slid into the second row holding a large Burger King sack and a fully loaded drink carrier.
“Well, this certainly makes the afternoon a little brighter,” Hop said, reaching in and pulling out a cheeseburger.
“It’s the least I could do.” He passed out the food, but I noticed he didn’t eat.
“Guys, look, I know this is weird meeting like this, and I appreciate y’all coming here on short notice, but things are moving fast – real fast – for me right now.” We kept chewing. “And I may have finally come to the point where I could use your help.”
“Hold on. You got any ketchup?” Mark asked. Nate threw him a couple of packets, and after he squeezed two onto his burger, he turned back to Nate. “Sorry. So, what’s up?”
“I think you’ll understand better once I explain everything. Matt, can you pop the Trapper?”
I reached under the dash to hit the switch, and the compartment fell open. Nate leaned up from the second row and pulled out the photos and the bank papers. He laid out two of the gory photos on the dash where all of us could see.
“Nope,” Hop said, “not gonna look again. Especially not while I’m eating. Matt, how long have you been keeping these?”
“Just for a few days now.”
“I asked him to – and for good reason. Remember the other afternoon at Jack’s when I told you Ms. Cooper told me she worked on my dad’s case?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, she told me a lot more than that – she got real deep into the investigation. That’s the reason I was late. Take these two guys,” he said, tapping the photos. “They were business partners of my dad’s – and I don’t mean at the clinic. Earlier this year, they had been busted red-handed for defrauding the government as part of this whole money-laundering enterprise.”
“You know who they are?” I asked.
“I think so. According to Ms. Cooper, the first one – this guy that’s barely recognizable – was going to work something out, but before his final day in court, he killed himself. At least that’s what was reported. The second – his name was Tom – was shot on the way in to the FBI office to meet with Ms. Cooper. Three bullets to the head, mob-style. Boom. Just like that, two snitches out of the picture and –”
Hop put his burger down. “This is starting to freak me out. Now I kind of wish I had never seen these. Period.”
“Chill, Hop,” Mark said. “Go on, Nate.”
“So, here’s where it takes another turn. Remember that box at my house where y’all left my wallet?”
“Yeah.”
“This weekend, I go to clean it out and find another Polaroid. Take a look at this.” He slapped another picture down on the seat.
“Another one?” Mark asked, and we all leaned in.
“Victim number three.”
The lady in this photo was sure enough dead, but she wasn’t bloodied and mangled. She looked like a piece of meat that someone forgot and left in the grocery bag overnight. Tainted. One eye was open, but it was milky and made her stare look vacant. A zombie.
“Nasty. What happened to her?”
“Strangled. In her own damn house. Name was Charlotte Gutherz. And like the other two, she was involved in the fraud scam – although she wasn’t as big a player. She also had another connection to my dad, which should not come as a total surprise. She was his girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?”
“Um hmm.” He cleared his throat. “Setting that little gem aside, just like the two dead guys, she was cooperating with Ms. Cooper. He got her the same day she gave her statement, right after she got home.”
“He? Do you know who did it?”
“I think so,” Nate said. “Maybe.”
“You think so?”
“They know there’s another player out there, they’re just not sure who it is. They believe his name is something like ‘Fast Eddie.’”
Hop couldn’t resist. “Look, I know you didn’t want to go to the cops before, Nate, but don’t you have to now? I mean, this sounds dangerous for you. If I’m hearing you right, everyone that spoke to the FBI about this has died. What if they find out you talked to an FBI agent? Or that we know about these photos? We should go right now before we end up on the wrong end of the camera.”
“You’re absolutely right, Hop, and in any other world, I would agree with you. But here’s why I can’t – at least not yet. The only people who have any idea that Charlotte Gutherz even gave a statement are the people investigating the case. In fact, no one outside of law enforcement has made the connection between Charlotte and my dad.”
“So?”
“If Charlotte Gutherz’s role in all this is not yet public – then how’d this photo turn up in that box?”
“I don’t know.”
Nate must have seen me nodding my head, because he called me out.
“Matt does,” Nate said. “Tell ‘em, Matt. Tell ’em why I can’t go to the cops.”
“If the cops are the only ones who know about the link between Charlotte and Nate’s dad –”
“ – then a cop had to drop that photo off.” Mark said.
“That’s right,” Nate said. “There’s someone dirty on the inside.”
Chapter 57
Hop closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair. “You really think the cops are in on this?”
“Yep. Has to be, and for all I know, Ms. Cooper could be one of them. She was mighty interested in speaking with me.”
This revelation didn’t exactly do much to ease Hop’s angst, and I thought he was going to go off again, but he didn’t say anything. He just put his food back into his bag and stared out the window. Not before Mark grabbed the rest of his fries.
“It actually explains a lot,” Nate said.
“How so?”
“Someone in the know – probably this ‘Eddie” fellow – has been providing tips all along. Think about it. This second guy there – Tom – was murdered on his way in to a confidential meeting with the FBI. This Charlotte lady barely made it home before they silenced her. And my dad, well, he walked scot-free after his arrest. Someone had to give him the heads up as well.”
“Damn. This is getting thick.”
Nate picked up the photo. “Speaking of my dad, here’s where it gets interesting.”
“I thought it was plenty interesting already,” Mark said, his mouth full.
“Ms. Cooper thinks he has a lot of money holed away in secret bank accounts somewhere, but she doesn’t know where. She thinks that before he got arrested, he handed off the bank info, probably to Charlotte. You know, once he was tipped off.”
“How
much money we talking about here, Nate?”
“Millions.”
“Millions?” Mark let out a low whistle. “You said millions. Plural?”
“Plural.”
“Well no wonder she’s so interested. So why doesn’t your dad just go to the bank himself? Withdraw the money and move on?”
“Because he can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Well, he’s still under investigation, so I doubt he can just march into a bank and withdraw a bunch of dirty money without setting off alarms. Plus, I think he gave everything to Charlotte. He doesn’t have the means to get the money now even if he wanted to risk it.”
“Why doesn’t Fast Eddie just go get it himself, then?”
“The accounts are not in his name. He can’t access it either.”
“Whose name are they in?”
Nate took a breath to let the question settle. “Mine.”
For the first time since the food arrived, Mark stopped eating. “You got to be shitting me.”
“Yours?” Hop asked. “Then what are you waiting on?”
“Good question. It’s kind of complicated.” He dealt out the deposit slips. “Looks like there are seven banks total. Two in Hattiesburg, one in Wiggins, and four others here on the Coast – Ocean Springs, Gulfport, Biloxi, and Pass Christian. My plan is to go to each bank, one by one, and withdraw fifteen thousand from each location.”
“Just fifteen thousand? Why not gut ’em?”
“Because I don’t need to take out any more,” Nate said. “First, the greater the withdrawal, the greater the odds of it getting someone’s attention – we don’t want anyone calling the cops, right? Second, any withdrawal over ten thousand sends an alarm to the IRS – bypassing the local authorities. So to your point, Hop, doing it this way does get the authorities involved, but on a much higher level, bypassing any local corruption.”
The Milk Wagon Page 20