Authors: Sharon Woods Hopkins
Rhetta lay wide-awake and
fully dressed across one of the double beds in the room. Randolph didn’t suffer
any insomnia. Removing only his shoes, he had slid under the covers of the
other bed and had fallen instantly asleep. She listened to his soft rhythmical
snoring. Her head kept spinning with everything that had happened. Not the
least of which was the huge amount of cash that her father had socked away in
the Camaro’s glove box.
As soon as she and Randolph
locked the door behind them in their room, they pulled out the envelope stuffed
with money and began counting. There were four hundred and twenty-five bills,
all thousand-dollar denomination—four hundred twenty-five thousand dollars.
“Rhetta, I can’t believe
these thousand dollar bills. That denomination hasn’t been in circulation since
the late sixties. I wonder where Frank got these.”
“Holy smokes. Are they any
good? Did they recall them and now they’re worthless?”
“Heavens no. In fact, they
may be worth even more than their face value because of their rarity. Some
collector may pay more than face value for every one of these.”
Rhetta had stared at the
bills.
Dear
God. How on earth are we going to report this money to the IRS? That’s going to
mess up our taxes for sure.
Maybe
they could just sell the bills and give most of the cash away. She would check
with her accountant.
Her mind flew into high gear.
If she gave the money away, who should be the recipient? The animal shelter in
Cape was dear to her heart, so some of it would have to go there. And what
about the PTSD support group? Didn’t Woody say that the government wasn’t
helping some of the guys with their medicine? Definitely, she would help some
of Woody’s buddies. And for sure she wanted some to go to Saint Jude’s
Children’s Hospital in Memphis. A friend of hers had a granddaughter currently
getting treatment there, and Rhetta had helped with a fundraiser last fall. She
sighed and couldn’t believe that she was worrying about places to spend money.
She got up from the bed and
tiptoed to the sink for a drink of water. As she passed the window, she glanced
out at the truck and trailer. The snow had stopped, and a full moon bathed the
snow-covered lot in an eerie silver glow. Although she wished it hadn’t snowed,
the scene outside looked like it was taken right from a Currier and Ives
Christmas card.
Except for the tiny white
light that flitted around the far side of the trailer. It flickered once more,
then disappeared.
Rhetta’s heart sped up. She
stared harder at the trailer, but couldn’t see any more light. Were her eyes
playing tricks on her? She slipped over to the door and eased on her boots. She
pulled on her sweatshirt and jacket and returned to the window to peer out
again. Nothing stirred. She sat in the armchair by the window and continued
staring out at the truck and trailer. Her heart slowed, and she resumed
breathing normally.
She had stared so long that
she had almost dozed off when the flicker reappeared. Adrenaline pumping, she
bolted up from the chair and snatched her purse, rummaging inside for her .38.
She withdrew it, and slipped out the door, closing it quietly so as not to wake
Randolph. No sense in him losing sleep if she was imagining things. She
flattened herself against the wall of the motel, and eased over to a post. She
stayed behind it while she studied the trailer again. If there was something
there, why hadn’t Billy Dan and Ricky seen it? Didn’t they have the first
watch?
Her heart
began racing again. They probably hadn’t seen the light because it was a very
small beam and had disappeared quickly. She only glimpsed it because she had
been staring at the trailer. She didn’t see it now. What if it was nothing? No,
those footprints in the snow earlier weren’t her imagination. They had all seen
them. Heart hammering, she crouched behind some tall holly bushes and checked
her weapon. She shivered from cold and anxiety. Her hand shook. Nothing moved
for a minute. Then she saw a faint glow from under the car cover. Someone was
messing with the car. She bolted upright, gun drawn and began sprinting across
the snow-covered parking lot.
“Hold it
right there, buster, or I’ll shoot!” Rhetta yelled. She’d only managed to run
about ten yards when her feet flew out from under her and she landed hard on
her butt. The gun went airborne, then skidded across the parking lot ahead of
her. Billy Dan and Ricky burst from their room and gave chase to a man running
thirty feet ahead of them. A pickup truck beeped and the figure opened the door
and leapt into the driver’s seat, and started the truck. In the cab light that
stayed on only for a second before he slammed the door shut, she caught a
glimpse of the driver. Definitely a man, and wearing a jacket or coat with the
collar pulled up around his neck. That was all she could see.
The truck
skidded as it flew out of the parking lot and onto the street. Still slipping
sideways, it throttled down the outer road and disappeared.
Billy Dan
and Ricky ran to Rhetta, who was sitting up. Billy Dan reached out and helped
her to her feet. Billy Dan found her gun, brushed it off and handed it to her.
“Ow, that
hurt,” she said, slapping the snow off her backside and limping toward the
trailer. She pointed toward where the truck had screamed out of the parking
lot. “I found someone messing with the car. I bet that was him tearing out of
here.”
Ricky was already at the
trailer, and clambering up. She cussed loudly and jumped down. “Somebody just
got into the Camaro.” By now, Rhetta and Billy Dan had joined her. “Look, the
car cover is cut.” Then she lifted the cover like a tent flap. She turned to
Rhetta, her eyes moist. “Damn him. He cut the top, too and got into the car.”
The four of them sat
at a table in the darkened restaurant. Although it was still closed, the night
desk clerk had come over and made them a fresh pot of coffee. Rhetta had gone
back to the room and awakened Randolph, who wasn’t happy to learn that she’d
taken off across the parking lot wielding her .38.
“You should have come and got
me,” he admonished.
“I didn’t have time. I was
afraid he’d get away. I didn’t plan on falling on my backside. I think I
could’ve stopped him.” She squirmed to sit on the cheek that didn’t hurt as
much.
Ricky had gone from angry
shock, to full-out tears of outrage. “What did he want?” She poured coffee and
distractedly added several packets of sugar, until Billy Dan touched her arm
gently.
“That’s five packets of
sugar,” Billy Dan said, his grey eyes twinkling.
“Oh blazes! I won’t be able
to drink it like that.”
He grabbed another clean cup
from a nearby table and poured half of her coffee into it. Then he topped off
her cup from the carafe, and handed it to her.
“Thanks.” She smiled at him,
and he patted her hand. “It’s such a shame that he cut through that gorgeous
top. That was all original. But it’s okay, don’t worry, we can get it fixed. I
know people.” She stirred her coffee noisily.
Rhetta said, “I bet it’s
someone who overheard us at the storage unit when we found the money in the
glove box.” She set her own spoon down, and slid her cup away. “Do you remember
if there was anyone nearby when we were all talking about that money?” She
glanced at each of them, and they all shook their heads.
“There was nobody anywhere
around us,” Randolph said. “I’m positive.”
“I was too excited looking at
the car. I didn’t really pay attention,” Ricky said.
Billy Dan agreed with
Randolph. “I didn’t see anyone else on the place except for the manager.”
“Just how much money was
there?” Ricky asked. When Rhetta told her, all the color drained from her face.
“No wonder somebody tried to steal it.”
They sat silently for a
moment. Ricky scooted her chair back, and stood. “I’m going to look at
something.” She downed the last of the coffee in the first cup.
“You shouldn’t touch anything
else. There may be evidence there,” Randolph said.
“I think I remember seeing
that the driver side door wasn’t shut all the way. The light stayed on. He got
in the passenger side, so why was the driver’s door not closed all the way? He
had to have opened it from the inside. I want to go and look again. I won’t
touch anything.” Ricky tied the string on her hoodie and flipped the hood over
her head.
Rhetta said, “I saw the
flicker of light, too. I’ll go with you.” Rhetta snugged her jacket around her
and they hustled out the door.
At the trailer, Ricky pulled
back the cover enough to see the driver door. Just as she’d said, the door
wasn’t fully closed. And the interior light was on. That meant the battery was
still charged. The manager at the Cave Storage had told them Frank drove the
car routinely. Rhetta believed him now.
“These doors are really
heavy, so when the thief closed it, it didn’t shut completely.” Ricky slid the
cover back into place. Turning to Rhetta, she continued, “You locked the doors
after you got out when the car was loaded, right?” When Rhetta nodded, she
said, “I’m going to show this to the cops. I won’t close that door tightly
until they get here and see it.”
“If he was already inside the
car, why would he have opened the driver side?” Rhetta asked as they walked
back to the dining room. “If he was looking for the money, he would have
ransacked the car.”
“There’s no reason to open
the driver door and risk the light coming on. Maybe he didn’t know that the
battery is good and the interior light would work. Probably why he closed it so
fast it didn’t catch.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
Ricky scrunched her face as
she thought. “There’s nothing in the door except the hinges, and…wait a minute!
On a ’67 Camaro, the VIN is on a plate on the door pillar between the hinges.
Could that be what he wanted to see?”
Rhetta’s blood ran as cold as
the snow.
“Of course,” she said.
“That’s it.” She was certain now that the break-in had nothing to do with the
money.
Somebody
knows about needing the VIN for the trust
.
She was sure of it.
But, who?
To everyone’s exasperation, the
police
didn’t arrive until after eight o’clock and several pots
of coffee. By that time, the restaurant had opened and several of the motel
guests had assembled for breakfast. The smells of bacon and sausage cooking
mingled with the aroma of coffee. The quiet chatter of conversation replaced
the silence of a few hours earlier.
The good news about the
police delay was that the snow had quit falling and the temperature had already
climbed above freezing. It appeared the front had passed through and warmer air
had slipped in, allowing the snow to melt. In spite of having to wait longer
than they would have preferred to make the police report, it meant that the
roads would be in better shape than they had first thought. The trip home
wouldn’t be so bad.
While they waited, Rhetta and
Randolph had filled in Billy Dan and Ricky on everything that they knew about
the Tontine Trust.
“That would definitely
explain why he needed to get inside the car,” Ricky said. “He had to read the
VIN. I wonder if he was able to get to it.”
After all the excitement,
they had all gone back to their respective rooms, where Rhetta showered and
changed her clothes. She packed the money from the glove box carefully into a
small foldable fabric suitcase and nestled the car’s paperwork next to it.
“I want to be sure that the
bag with the money rides up in the cab with us on the way home,” she told
Randolph as he came out of the shower. “I stashed the cash in it along with all
the papers. Whoever broke into the car is after the VIN, but he may be after
this money, too. We don’t know. If he didn’t get the VIN last night, he may
still try to hijack us for the title, or the car, or the money or whatever.”
She held the small bag aloft. “We have to hide this.”
Randolph had slipped into his
clothes and fired up the hair dryer, its hum drowning out Rhetta. “I hate to go
out in the cold with my hair wet,” he said as he noticed Rhetta studying him in
the mirror. His dark hair grazed his collar. He had never worn his hair long
when he was on the bench. Rhetta liked the new look.
Holding the bag, which
measured about sixteen by twenty-four inches, she asked, “Will this fit behind
the back seat?”
He shut the dryer off. “If I
move some of the stuff around, it should. Why?”
“If someone is really after
us, or me, and wants the VIN and the money, he may follow us and try to get it.
I’m keeping my .38 close and ready.” She patted her purse. “We have to be very
careful and super alert. We need to hide this bag as best we can.”
“Are you sure you’re not just
being paranoid?”
She blessed him with a look.
“Okay, right. What was I
thinking? I’ll stow it behind the truck seat before we leave, so that nobody
can spot it, unless he knows to look there. We want to make sure no one sees us
do that when we leave.
“You’re right. Let’s just
toss both these other suitcases into the truck as though they don’t contain
anything very important, in case someone is watching us. I can’t shake the feeling
that someone is watching everything that we’re doing. I’ll hide this one in my
purse, then once we’re on the road, we’ll do it when we’re in the truck. For
once, you should be glad I carry a very large purse.”
“All right, but I’ll need to
take some stuff out from behind the seat before I can even squeeze that little
bag in there.”
“No, don’t do that. If he’s
watching, he’ll get suspicious.”
Randolph shook his head.
“Okay, we’ll see what we can do.” He finished drying his hair.
She ran her fingers through
her own spiky do and applied some spray. “I’m glad my hair is so short. It’s
always dry by the time I get dressed.”
Randolph settled the bill with the hotel, then carried their
two larger bags out to the back of the truck and tossed them in before returning
to the lobby to wait with the others. Rhetta, clutching her purse with the
small bag squeezed into it, had already met up with Ricky and Billy Dan.
An officer pulled up next to
the trailer. As Randolph headed toward the door, Rhetta stopped him. “I don’t
know if we should tell this cop too much about how I happened to come by the
car. It’s such a strange story that we may be here all day.”
“Let me do the talking. You
all stay here, unless he specifically needs to asks one of us a direct
question,” Randolph said. Rhetta agreed, and Ricky and Billy Dan nodded.
Randolph strode out to the
cruiser and met the young officer as he was getting out. The officer shook
hands with Randolph, and then produced a notebook from his shirt pocket. He
began writing as Randolph led him around the car. After a cursory inspection,
the officer nodded, shook hands again with Randolph, added a few more notes,
then returned to his patrol car.
It all took less than five
minutes.
As the officer rolled out of
the parking lot, Randolph joined the others
“Wow, that didn’t take very
long,” Rhetta said.
“I minimized the whole
episode. Told him the car was broken into, but nothing was damaged or stolen. I
definitely got the impression that he was mainly humoring me because I’m a
retired judge. Otherwise, I doubt if he would have even looked at the car. Said
he’d let me know if they find out anything. I thanked him for his time.”
Randolph strode back to the coffee shop. “Is anyone hungry for breakfast?” When
everybody shook their heads, he said, “Let’s get our coffee for the road and
get on our way. We can stop somewhere, maybe in Columbia, for breakfast.”
Rhetta clutched her purse
tightly. Ricky and Billy Dan disappeared inside their room, and returned in
minutes with their things. They tossed them into the rear of the truck with the
other suitcases.
Everyone circled the trailer
making sure that the Camaro was securely fastened. Then, after a few minutes of
arguing about who would drive, Ricky proclaimed herself the winner, and crawled
in behind the wheel, with Billy Dan riding shotgun next to her, and Rhetta and
Randolph in the back seat.
They eased out onto the
service road, stopping at the Conoco next door to fuel up, and get more coffee.
The temperature had improved and the road was clear.
Fifteen minutes later, they
were on Interstate 70 heading east, toward Columbia, and home.