Moon Underfoot

by Cole, Bobby

  “Hello,” she answered.

  “Sam, it’s Walter. I hope I’m not interrupting something important.”

  “I hope you’re not in jail.”

  “No, I’m right here at the Henry Clay. Listen, I’d like to come see you tomorrow about a coupla things, if you have time.”

  She didn’t want to tell Walter that she didn’t have any other meetings planned and he was free to come whenever, but she had learned to play the game. “I’ve got a full morning until ten thirty. You could come then.”

  “I’ll do that, and maybe afterward I can buy you lunch.”

  “Perfect. Can you clue me in?”

  “We wanna start a college scholarship at a school, and I wanna discuss givin’ the Kroger money back,” Walter said.

  “I think that’s a fine idea, Walter. We’ll talk about how to play our hand so no one is incriminated.”

  “That’s why we want you to handle it. Maybe there’ll be a reward. If there is, you’re welcome to it.”

  “Thank you, Walter.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Walter? Are you all right? You sound tired.”

  “I haven’t been sleepin’ good. Turns out, stolen money can weigh heavily on you.”

  “We’ll take care of it. This might help you rest: I have a friend who goes to church with the store manager who was having that fling. He and his wife have been going to counseling, and it looks like they’re going to make it. He’s broken, and he realizes what he almost lost. There are still some trust issues, obviously, but apparently, he really manned up and is committed to doing everything he can to save his marriage. He’s even gone back to church.”

  “So, you’re saying something good came outta all this.”

  “In a very roundabout way, yes.”

  CHAPTER 73

  LEVI AND MOON Pie had spent all afternoon drinking Old Charter and trying to determine who had stolen the money. Each theory sounded more preposterous than the previous one. Only one scenario made sense to them, sober or drunk: the Tennessee Mexicans had stolen the money. They could not, however, agree on what could have been their motive. The Copenhagen lid was the deciding factor in settling on the Mexicans. They brilliantly determined that the gold M stood for Mexico.

  At around noon, Tam had called Moon Pie, asking to borrow his FJ Cruiser for his trip home. Tam would leave his Mercedes, as collateral, behind the Gold Mine. Tam promised to either wire Moon Pie money for a new vehicle or have someone return it. Moon Pie agreed and told him how to quickly get into Alabama and then a southern route to avoid any roadblocks. Tam was highly agitated and concerned about Moon Pie’s money, but he was more anxious about maintaining his freedom. He promised to contact Moon Pie later.

  On the ride home from the bomb plant, Moon Pie had carefully cut off the ankle monitor. When they stopped at a convenience store in Aberdeen, Mississippi, Moon Pie—being the sorry-ass white trash that he was—hid the monitor under the front seat of a bright-purple 1986 Cadillac Deville with gold twenty-twos. That was the only time he smiled all day.

  By dark, Moon Pie began to sober up and take the imminent threat and his options seriously. He stumbled through his trailer and found seven thousand dollars in cash that he had hidden, while Levi texted his latest girlfriend.

  “How much cash you got?” Moon Pie asked Levi.

  “I dunno—couple grand, easy.”

  “We need to talk about making a run for it.”

  “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “Dude, these Mexican sumbitches ain’t gonna play. That was a lot of money.”

  “What are you thinkin’?”

  “I’m thinking about running up into either northern Missouri or Iowa. I can make some money killing big deer this time of year. You wanna go?”

  “You know I hate cold weather,” Levi said.

  “How can you be my brother?”

  “Half brother, and the half my momma gave me don’t enjoy freezing my nuts off. Could I stay here and run the Mine?”

  “They’re gonna want blood—especially after I skip town. That’ll be the first place they come lookin’. I’ll give you some money if you wanna go south for six months and find you somethin’ to do. You can take the houseboat.”

  Levi nodded at the thought of floating down the river and docking near Mobile.

  “We gotta do something. I expect they knew the minute that ankle monitor got cut. Those things got sensors.”

  “You could tell the cops that we were robbed. You ain’t gotta tell them how much they took. They might catch somebody that we could toss to the Mexicans.”

  “I can’t. Not everything at the Gold Mine is legit. Look, I’m gonna load up my stuff, clean out the store, and I’ll be gone before it gets dark tomorrow. I don’t mind running. I made a small fortune last time on that gun-range scheme. We’ll stay in touch on Facebook; just don’t say where you’re at. We also got these prepaid cells.”

  Levi looked around the trailer. He really didn’t want to leave.

  Moon Pie looked closely at Levi. “Look, bro, it’s all rented, this trailer and the store, so we aren’t really attached to anything. That’s a good lesson for you to remember.”

  “All right. I’m goin’ south. You think there’s still any oil-spill work left down there?”

  “I doubt it, but you can always claim that you’re a sea turtle researcher or some shit like that, make up a fat résumé, and you’ll probably get rich.”

  “I like those big old live-oak trees that grow near the coast.”

  “Listen to me, tree nerd, we have a couple of days to get organized and then we gotta get lost. You understand?”

  “Yeah, I got it.”

  “Look, here’s two grand. That gives you four and the houseboat to get started. I got five. After things cool down, we’ll hook back up.”

  They hadn’t been honest with each other. They both had more cash hidden.

  CHAPTER 74

  THE MISSISSIPPI DRUG Task Force had reached out to every state and federal agency to find Tam. They made a special plea to the state troopers along the major arteries leading to the Gulf Coast. They were running low on hope when the Columbus Police Department called to inform them that they had located Tam’s Mercedes parked behind the Gold Mine. The task force officers asked the Columbus PD to surround the building and wait for their arrival.

  Traveling at over ninety miles per hour, the adrenaline-infused officers discussed how Tam’s hiding made sense and how the slightest mistake could result in a criminal’s capture when he was on the run. They also talked about how this was a deadly time for law enforcement and the public because desperate criminals routinely take desperate measures to stay free. Alexa had been no help, since she realized it was her fault Tam had been lured into the trap, and her lawyer had advised her not to talk unless he was present. They knew Alexa feared Tam’s rage and figured that she had seen it many times. Her lawyer would no doubt have her released inside the next twenty-four hours, and she was probably thinking through the next steps in her life that would more than likely be without Tam, assuming he didn’t kill her.

  As the officers approached Columbus, they were given the Gold Mine’s street address, which was programmed into the dash-mounted GPS. When they arrived, all the other units turned on their blue lights, and they lit up the city block with rapid-fire, intense light. The Columbus PD had a canine officer at the scene, and the sudden light show caused him to bark once at all of the activity. His handler was surprised at the dog’s uncharacteristic breach but understood his excitement.

  As they strapped on ballistic vests, the officers were briefed on the layout of the building and possible scenarios. A captain from the Columbus Police Department explained that they had monitored the building from a distance, and no one had come or gone. No inside lights were on, and the Mercedes’s hood was cold.

  “You think he’s still in there?” he asked.

  “He very well could be, and this little dude is dan
gerous when cornered.”

  “I suggest we send the dog in first and tell your men to expect that the suspect is armed and violent as hell and to act accordingly.”

  “Roger that,” the captain replied. Then he walked a few feet away, talking on his shoulder-mounted microphone.

  “You ready, John Wesley?” his partner asked.

  “Sure.”

  “Let’s do this.”

  A group of six officers and a well-trained German shepherd rushed to the front door and crouched outside. One officer in a full protective suit and helmet punched the lock with a lock gun, and in less than ten seconds, the front door swung open.

  The police officers all looked to the task force guys. John Wesley nodded, and the dog handler pulled the dog close to him, whispered something, stroked his head, and sent him inside. Everyone took a deep breath. They all had the utmost respect for the dog and the handler.

  John Wesley looked at his partner. They knew they were thinking the same thing: I sure hope our dog doesn’t get shot. They had witnessed it before. When a canine officer got killed, his partner always took it really hard.

  For thirty seconds, there wasn’t a sound. Each person imagined the dog checking every corner of the dark building. Suddenly they heard a loud yelp, and the handler cracked open the door. The dog flew out and sat next to his handler, shaking and whimpering.

  All the officers stared in disbelief. What could have scared a fearless police dog and made him retreat! Radios cracked with questions from the police brass who were watching through binoculars. No one could answer. The handler had never seen his dog back down from anything.

  “Captain, something really bad is inside. We need reinforcements, lights, and thermal imaging!” John Wesley requested on the dog handler’s radio. “And tell the guys at the back door to be ready!”

  “Ten-four. Give me a minute. We have all that gear here in the SWAT van.”

  Within two minutes, twelve more officers, dressed completely in black full-body armor and carrying various gear, arrived and crouched with the others. Each person’s eyes were wild with anticipation yet focused on the mission. John Wesley counted them down, and they stormed through the front door—every officer, except the dog.

  The dark store was instantly illuminated, and the officers quickly cleared the front room. Staging beside the partly opened door to the back room, they went on a rehearsed silent count and then burst into the back room. Three quick shots were fired.

  Radios erupted with chatter as the captain and his men frantically ran to the building. “I need info!” the captain yelled as he charged to the shop’s outside door. “I need intel!”

  Radio silence fell for ten seconds as the men sorted out what had happened.

  “I need info! What’s happening!” the captain barked.

  “It’s okay, Captain. We’re all clear,” a voice on the radio reported.

  “What about the shots!”

  “We shot a lion!”

  “What?” he asked as he started inside.

  “It’s a life-size mounted lion!”

  “You’re shittin’ me.”

  “I swear, it looks alive, sir.”

  CHAPTER 75

  MONDAY MORNING WHEN she dropped Katy at Oak Hill Academy, Morgan went inside to advise the office staff and headmaster of what had happened in Tupelo. She wanted them to be on high alert. Her worst fear was that Katy would be kidnapped for revenge for Jake’s actions that night in the swamp, and Katy’s school was one place where Morgan couldn’t directly protect her. She did have faith in the staff, and she noticed a police cruiser sitting in the parking lot when she left. The young officer waved, and she realized why he was there. She pulled up beside the patrol car.

  “Thank you.”

  “No problem, ma’am.”

  “Are you here all day?” she asked.

  “For as much of it as I can, unless I’m needed somewhere else. We’re rotating so somebody’s around here during the day until this thing dies down.”

  Morgan was almost moved to tears. “Thank you. Can I get you something? Are you hungry?”

  “No ma’am. My wife cooks me breakfast every mornin’.”

  “That’s sweet. How long have you been married?” Morgan wondered.

  “Four months, yesterday,” the officer admitted proudly.

  “Oh, so you’re still honeymoonin’!”

  The officer blushed. “Yes ma’am.”

  “I really do appreciate y’all doing this. Thanks again,” she said as she drove off and mumbled to herself, “Hot breakfast will probably last two more months, at most.”

  CHAPTER 76

  THE POLICE SWARMED Moon Pie’s home so fast that he didn’t have time to get out of his La-Z-Boy. He had been watching ESPN analysts debate which teams would be paired in the upcoming college football national championship game. One minute he was pumped that an SEC team might be in the top two, and the next minute he had his hands up like he was signaling a touchdown—a beer in one, the TV remote in the other.

  “What’s your name! Are you Ethan Daniels! Is there anybody else in the trailer!” an older officer asked as he holstered his weapon.

  Ethan looked around at four pistols and two AR15s pointed at his head. “Yeah, you got me. I’m Ethan Daniels. What’d I do now?”

  Two more officers entered the trailer and began searching it. Moon Pie watched them disappear down the small hallway.

  “Shitter’s the second door on the left!”

  “Okay, wiseass, where’s Tam Nguyen?” John Wesley asked him.

  “Who?” Moon Pie acted surprised.

  “Don’t play stupid with me, shit-for-brains. I ain’t got the time.”

  “I don’t know nobody named Tam. Who is she?”

  “Get up. We’re goin’ downtown to talk about it and refresh your memory.”

  The two officers returned. “It’s clear, sir,” said the younger of them.

  Moon Pie now was beginning to feel a bit cocky. “Why do you think I know this person?”

  “Because his vehicle is parked behind your business.”

  Moon Pie smiled. “People park back there all the time. That ain’t a crime, and it don’t mean that I know shit about it.”

  “Nope, but harboring a fugitive is, as is aiding, abetting, and accessory after the fact. Plus, anything else we can dig up when we get a warrant and bring in the drug dog.”

  “Look, I don’t need any trouble. I’m clean. I’m trying to be respectable. If I knew anything, I’d tell y’all.”

  “Where’s Levi Jenkins?”

  “He’s in love or heat or somethin’. He ain’t here.”

  “Where is he?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know much of anything, do ya, shitbird?”

  “Naw, I don’t. I do know that I was just sittin’ here, mindin’ my own business, watchin’ television, and y’all done come bustin’ up in here, treatin’ me like I’m some kinda common criminal. I do believe that’s po-lice harassment. I guess I’ll just have to speak with my attorney about this. He’s gonna—”

  A local officer who knew Moon Pie interrupted, “Where’s your FJ Cruiser?”

  The task force officers immediately understood the question. Moon Pie did as well. If he said it was stolen and they caught Tam in it, Tam would have another charge against him. If he said he had loaned it to Tam, it would implicate him as being involved. Shit! Shit! Shit!

  Moon Pie’s bravado was now turned down a couple of notches. “Look, you know…I ain’t sure. I usually just leave it at the office. Levi and my other employees use it all the time. I don’t ever think about it. I like drivin’ that old Bronco out there.”

  John Wesley said to another officer, “Cuff him. Let’s take him downtown. Maybe his memory will improve with better surroundings.”

  Moon Pie didn’t like this, but there were way too many cops to resist. He couldn’t think of anything clever to say to get out of this bind when a muscular office
r snatched him out of the chair and pulled his arms behind him, applying the cuffs. The officer began to frisk him and uncovered a Mercedes smart key. The officer tossed it to John Wesley.

  “Well, this is interestin’” he said, turning it over in his hand. “I bet this doesn’t work on that old Bronco. Let’s see.” John Wesley pointed it out the front door and pushed the button. He pushed it again and then looked at Moon Pie and smiled.

  Moon Pie looked down at the dirty shag carpeting.

  CHAPTER 77

  SEVERAL OF THE Tennessee Mexicans called an emergency meeting to discuss recent developments with the Gulf Coast load. A midlevel manager in the organization was trying to shield the initial bad news from el Jefe. Managing assets was a daily task for several of these key employees. The boss gave them plenty of latitude in managing their respective pieces of the business. This approach was good in the sense that they could make decisions on the fly, in the heat of the moment. It was a bad approach if their decisions were not good ones, which could cost dearly, in monetary and legal terms.

  The normally tough-acting manager was humble and obviously nervous in the presence of his boss, the second in command. “He called about an hour ago. It was Mr. Moon Pie’s brother. He said they had been robbed and the money was gone.”

  The second in command was very calm as he smoked an authentic Cohiba he had personally acquired from the Partagas factory. Rather than looking at the manger, he studied the burning end of the Lancero. “And what did you say?”

  “That we will kill him and his brother.”

  “I hope that’s not all.”

  “No, sir. I said we wanted all of the dinero.”

  “Bueno. Who do they think did this thing?”

  “Us. They think we stole the moneda.”

  “What made him say such a stupid thing?”

  “He claims to have proof because we left a tobacco can with a gold M on it. He said the M stands for Mexico.”