by Cole, Bobby
“No problem.”
“Look, Mr. Crosby, you got any idea how that fire started?” Sheriff Blue asked, trying to catch Jake off guard.
“Please call me Jake, and no. I was about to ask you the same thing. I haven’t been out there in over a month. Could the wiring have gone bad? It’s pretty old.”
“How old?”
“Well, when I was just a kid, my dad rewired it himself, so about thirty years, I guess. It’s been added on to over the years. It wasn’t anything fancy.”
“Who’s yo’ daddy?”
“Robert Crosby. He worked as a production supervisor at Bryan Foods in West Point. Worked there about forty years.”
“Lots of folks worked there at one time or another.”
“Yes, sir.”
Sheriff Rosco Blue leaned back in his wooden chair and placed an unlit cigar in the corner of his mouth. “It’s kinda peculiar that it suddenly catches fire and burns to the ground. Got insurance on the place?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Uh-hunh.”
“I agree that it’s strange, Sheriff. I know I said somethin’ about the wiring, but I can’t help but think it might be arson.”
“Well, we got us a real good fire marshal here, and he’ll figure it out.”
“Does insurance pay if it’s arson?”
“I don’t think so,” the sheriff said, watching Jake closely.
Jake dropped his head into his hands
The sheriff said, “Look here, son, it’d save us both lots of time and trouble if you know somethin’ about this. You need to go on and tell me. You got somethin’ you need to get off your chest?”
“No, sir…but do you remember almost two years ago…during spring turkey season, over in Sumter County, where two rednecks got killed one night chasing a man and his daughter and another girl through the woods?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“That was me. I’m the one they were chasing—me and my daughter and this high school girl. The police never caught at least two other guys from that gang. I’ve been worried that someday they’d come after me and my family.”
“So you think the ones that got away set your fish camp on fire?”
“Maybe. I killed two of ’em, and from what I understand, they were a real tight bunch. It wouldn’t surprise me.”
“I remember Johnny Lee and Reese. Those assholes kept us busy up here at times, and quite frankly, they both needed killin’.”
“I’d never even heard of ’em until that night.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” the sheriff remarked. He carefully considered the gang torching Jake’s fish camp, but he knew their style of payback would be murder, not arson. An eye for an eye would be their response.
Sheriff Blue leaned back again and tried to analyze Jake Crosby’s body language. He was aware that it was very common for young couples to get way over their heads in debt and need immediate cash. The reasons were too numerous to count. Insurance fires were often a quick fix. That’s what this smelled like, and the man sitting in front of him sure looked stressed.
“Jake, those rednecks’ payback would be painful. Burning your camp ain’t vengeful enough.” The sheriff suspected that Jake was trying to throw him off the real trail.
Jake rubbed his face and looked uneasily out the window. After a moment, he said, “It’s the only answer I got, Sheriff.”
CHAPTER 28
THE TWO-MAN KROGER security team was visibly surprised to see Samantha Owens representing Walter Severson. They politely invited Walter and Sam to the rear of the store, where they commandeered the employee lounge. On the way back, Walter waved to the friends he had made at the store. He was confident with Sam by his side. The lounge was small and cluttered. Sam and Walter seated themselves on the far side. Sam immediately placed a tape recorder on the table and turned it on with a click. Everyone stopped talking and stared at it for a few seconds. After a long moment, Sam casually glanced up and asked if the men minded. They looked at each other and shook their heads. Sam smiled.
In her best slow, sweet Southern drawl, Sam asked, “Are y’all charging my client with anything?”
“No, ma’am. We’re just trying to get some answers. We hope Mr. Severson knows something that will be helpful to us.”
“My client is very distraught about this and your threats to fire him. This job and his reputation are important to him.”
“He offered to resign of his own free will.”
“He doesn’t feel welcome anymore, and he feels intimidated.”
The men were silent. They had been suspicious of Walter’s sudden offer of resignation. They were under serious pressure to quietly solve the case and recoup the stolen funds. Corporate didn’t want to involve the police unless they didn’t have a choice. The ease of the crime was not something they wanted to become public. Each day that passed meant the money would be harder to trace and recover; it would be burning a hole in someone’s pocket.
With a lawyer present, the men were more cordial to Walter than before.
“Mr. Severson, we have a few follow-up questions about Sunday the fourth of November.”
“Gosh, I’ve slept a bunch since then. That’s been over two weeks ago,” Walter responded as he glanced toward Sam. “By the way, where’s Ed…you know, the manager?”
“He’s been temporarily reassigned.”
Samantha was scribbling something on a legal pad.
“Can you confirm that you worked that day?” one of the security specialists asked, reading from a prepared list.
“I got a full week’s pay, so yes, I guess I worked that day.”
“Can you confirm your shift was from two to ten p.m.?”
“I always work weekends so others can be with their families.”
“Did you see anything strange or out of the ordinary during that shift?”
“I see strange things every day I work here, young man.”
“Did you see anything out of the ordinary or strange happening in the back area of the store while you were on your shift that day?”
“Would you call it strange or out of the ordinary for someone to get a lap dance by a stripper moonlighting as a cashier?” Walter turned the question around while maintaining a straight face.
Sam betrayed no emotion.
“Yes. What can you tell us about that?”
“It happened a lot. Mostly on Sunday nights. She and Ed had a thing going on. I heard that she was a stripper and worked here for the medical benefits and Ed’s wife is pregnant. I don’t know for sure. You know how rumors are.”
“Did you actually see it?”
“What?”
“The lap dance.”
“No—not with my own eyes. I’da liked to…she’s a looker…but…she’s too young for me.”
The men made notes and studied their sheets of paper.
“She didn’t really talk to me. I guess I’m not her type.”
“Mr. Severson, we’re missing some money. A significant amount.”
Sam was extremely attentive now and ready to jump into the conversation.
“I don’t think she stole it.”
“Why not?”
“Well, I saw her yesterday, and she was driving a beat-up, old four-door Nissan. I think that a girl like her…if she’d got her hands on significant money, she’d be driving a Ford Shelby Mustang the next day.”
“Did you study psychology?”
“No, I’m just old. I’ve seen a lot. If you pay attention, people’s behavior is fairly predictable.”
“What do you think happened to the money, then?”
“Somebody probably…miscounted.”
“Not a chance. We have all of the register receipts. Do you know who stole the money or anything about it? Anything?”
With that line of questioning, Sam jumped in, holding up a hand to Walter to stop him from saying anything. “Whoa. Stop right there. It sounds like you’re insinuating that my client is involved somehow or com
plicit.”
“No, we are not. As I explained earlier, we’re just trying to get answers.”
“I’m not going to allow him to answer any more questions.”
“Why not?”
“Let’s just say…hypothetically that this missing money was in fact stolen. If he states something that implicates anyone, he could be opening himself up to a civil suit for slander.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Are you licensed to practice law in Mississippi?” Sam glared at the guy, who was shaking his head. “I didn’t think so; besides, what’s in it for my client to get involved?”
“A chance to do the right thing?”
“I wish it were that simple.”
“It is that simple.”
“Gentlemen, if you want my client’s cooperation, come back to us with an offer. If you want to ask any more questions, you’ll have to come to my office. Here’s my card.”
“We don’t make offers.”
“My client is a fine, upstanding citizen, with no previous criminal record or work history that gives you any reasonable grounds to suspect his knowledge or involvement with this missing money, which may or may not be stolen.” Sam stood, placing her hand on Walter’s shoulder. “And if you question other employees with the intent of implicating my client or otherwise disparaging him or his reputation in any way, we’ll know within moments, and then you two will be answering my questions.”
The two security experts leaned back, trying to put distance between them and the fireball attorney.
The senior agent picked up her card and looked it over. “We’ll be in touch, Mrs. Owens.”
“That’s Miss Owens, thank you very much.”
CHAPTER 29
WALTER HUDDLED WITH his team in the library of the historic hotel. He paced while they settled in their seats and then shut the door. His emotions were all over the place, and anxiety flooded him, just as it had eleven years ago in the Minnesota police station. He fought to suppress the memories and keep his mind on track. Fortunately, the meeting with the security team had been much less intense than he expected. Samantha’s presence had totally changed the dynamic. When he was alone with them a few days earlier, he had been certain they were onto him and about to call the police. Maybe they were just fishing, he thought.
Glancing at his watch, Walter exhaled deeply. Bernard, Sebastian, and Lucille all awaited Walter’s update.
“Samantha was a big help this morning. That was a great suggestion, Sebastian,” Walter said.
“Balloons are ordered,” Bernard blurted. “Sebastian and I are taking her a special cut magnet and glue when we get outta here. It was a refrigerator magnet from Rose Drugs that I spray-painted.”
“Perfect. I’ll need you to park across the street when they close and monitor to see if the alarm goes off. It could take a few hours.”
“Lucille…we need small flashlights, two handheld radios, a small tool kit, and gloves for all of us,” Walter explained.
“Is that all?” she asked as she jotted down the list.
“Some Clorox wipes, unscented if you can find them, a small tote bag to carry it all, and a larger bag for the cash.”
“Anything else?”
“How ’bout black coveralls with black stockin’ caps?” Bernard offered excitedly.
“I think we’re better off looking like a bunch of old guys working than a bunch of old, white, crippled ninjas.”
“I’m definitely not the covert-spy type,” Sebastian said matter-of-factly. “I’m more of the ‘just walk up and shoot ’em in the head with a forty-five’ type.”
Bernard imagined the three of them in all black, pumping gas and getting strange looks or having to explain to the police what they were doing. “Lucille, since you’re goin’ out, I’m gonna need some Zantac. All this stress has got me so wound up you couldn’t pull a greased string outta my butt with a tractor. My heartburn’s killin’ me.”
Everyone chuckled except Bernard.
Walter looked at each of them and then placed the cigar he had been chewing into the corner of his mouth and smiled. They weren’t exactly the A-Team, but he liked their spirits. They have heart…and probably heart disease, he thought.
CHAPTER 30
A WILLIE NELSON CD was playing as Levi drove and Moon Pie fooled around with his new iPad. They were excited about the meeting and the prospects of making a significant amount of money through this new venture.
Moon Pie constantly checked the mirror for tails. About a half hour into the trip, he had Levi turn around and backtrack a few miles. Their vehicle was loaded with all manner of weapons, loaded spare magazines, and several hundred rounds of ammunition, all of which would be difficult to explain to the police if they were pulled over.
“I like Willie,” Levi said for no particular reason other than to break the silence.
“He’s a classic,” Moon Pie replied without looking up from his iPad.
“I like John Denver too. Great lyrics.”
Moon Pie made a snorting sound, expressing his total lack of agreement.
Levi adjusted the steering wheel and squirmed in the seat. He tried to think of anything to start a conversation. “Did you know that during the Michael Jackson song ‘Beat It’ you can hear somebody knocking on the studio door?”
Moon Pie looked up. “What?”
“Yeah, at about the two forty-five mark you can hear a knockin’ sound. It’s a tech who was tryin’ to get in the studio.”
“You’re full of shit.”
“I’m serious.”
“Where did you hear this?”
“On a radio program.”
“One of those shows that asks listeners if they prefer Ginger or Mary Ann?”
“Yeah, exactly. I like those discussions,” Levi said.
“Mary Ann for me. Give me a country girl. Ginger would have been way too high maintenance.”
“I liked Ginger. But see, that’s why they do it…nobody agrees, everybody calls, and it’s interesting.”
“I don’t call.”
Levi gave the rearview a quick glance. “I do sometimes. It gets pretty borin’ sometimes makin’ river runs. Thank goodness for satellite radio.”
“You are so lame, listening to that shit.”
Moon Pie turned back to his new iPad to search the Internet for a free version of “Beat It.”
Levi was aggravated with Moon Pie, but at least they were talking. He’d been trying his best to develop a better relationship with Moon Pie so that he would give him more responsibilities within the business.
“I hate that Bailey’s at the shop without one of us there.”
“She’s fine. She knows how to buy. I left her five grand to work with and told her to close up if she bought more than that.”
“I’m sure that’ll cover it.”
“It’ll have to. I sure ain’t givin’ her the code to the safe.”
“I think you can trust her with that much cash or gold.”
“I ain’t got much choice on this one. But no, I don’t trust anyone with my money. Money’s got a way of changin’ folks. You’ll see firsthand one day. Hey, don’t forget to watch the rearview for a tail.” Moon Pie never looked up as he tried unsuccessfully to play the song he had illegally downloaded.
“We’re clean. I’ve been watching.”
“Good. The cemetery’s ’bout ten more miles. Don’t stop when you get there. Drive by so we can check it out first.”
“I’ve heard the name Coon Dog Cemetery but don’t really know nothin’ ’bout it,” Levi lied to engage Moon Pie.
Moon Pie slid his iPad into its sleeve and sat up straight. “Well, years ago—like, in the thirties, maybe—this local guy had a coon hound called Troop that was legendary. He was the best anybody had ever seen, and trust me, coon huntin’ used to be a big deal back before the deer and turkeys made a comeback. Back then, most everybody coon hunted, but not everybody had a dog, especially a good one like Troop. Anyways, a
bunch of local coon hunters all used this hilltop as a meetin’ spot on nights they hunted. When old Troop died, his owner wanted to do something special, so he decided to bury Troop there and even carved him a monument. Then other hunters started buryin’ their coon dogs there, and before you know it, it’s the coon dog cemetery. There’s only one in the world.”
“Man’s best friend.”
“A good huntin’ dog’s like a soul mate.”
“Unconditional love and an undyin’ desire to please,” Levi said with a smile.
“Exactly right. Now, I’m done talkin’ ’bout it. It’s makin’ me want a puppy, and I ain’t got time to raise you and a dog.”
Levi smiled at Moon Pie’s comments.
“Slow down, here it is. But don’t stop. We’re lookin’ for a black van.”
“Like, minivan?” Levi asked as he spotted a family-looking minivan parked in the far corner.
Before Moon Pie saw the vehicle, he responded, “No, fool.” Then he recanted with, “Well, maybe,” when he too saw the minivan.
CHAPTER 31
MORGAN’S NERVES WERE frayed since Jake had called to explain that the camp house was in fact a total loss and that arson was suspected. She wasn’t too concerned about the fish camp. Her only real worry was that Peeping Tom and that awful smile on his face. It had happened so fast that she wondered if she had imagined it, but now somebody had deliberately burned down the camp. She worried what was next. The West Point city police were doing around-the-clock drive-bys of the house, and the Old Waverly security guards were doing their part by actually looking in the backseats and trunks of every vehicle that came into the development—to the point that the members began complaining. Everyone was watching for something. They just didn’t know what. Morgan began to fear the worst, and she was especially worried about Katy.
It was almost two that afternoon when Morgan decided to explain the situation to the headmaster at Katy’s school and then check her out for the rest of the day. Morgan wanted to know exactly where her daughter was at all times. She was met with understanding and comfort from the school’s staff. They all remembered Jake and Katy’s ordeal and appreciated Morgan’s concerns, given these recent developments. The headmaster promised to convene a teachers’ meeting to put everyone on alert. He reminded Morgan that, since Columbine, Oak Hill Academy had actively rehearsed lockdown drills and that every teacher and staff member knew how to set it into motion. Morgan felt much better about Katy’s safety. They don’t think I’m crazy, and they really do care, she thought.
