“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.
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.
M
ORGAN’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.
Katy begged her mom to stay in school. She wanted to attend the pep rally during last period for a big basketball game. Katy’s eyes filled with tears as she pleaded over and over until Morgan relented.
“Okay, okay. But you gotta come straight to the car when you get out. I’ll be by the flagpole.”
“Yes, ma’am. I will. Thanks, Mom,” Katy yelled as she ran back to her class.
As Morgan walked toward her Lexus, she called Jake to tell him what happened.
Jake’s computer screens were a maze of stock-tracking charts when his direct line rang. He instantly recognized the number.
“Hey, babe, what’s up?”
“Can you talk a minute?”
“Sure.” Jake was happy to take a break from watching the computer screens for the last hour. He was trying to determine if he had missed any market opportunities by going to Aliceville.
“I’m worried someone’s stalkin’ us.”
Jake exhaled. He felt the same but didn’t want to alarm her. She was a worrier, and she would get worse if any of her fears were confirmed.
“I just went to the school to talk to the headmaster and the office staff…and asked them to keep their eyes open. I thought it was better to be safe than sorry,” she said, almost as if she were asking forgiveness.
“I’m glad you did. I’m concerned too.”
“Wadda we do?” she asked, pulling out of the parking lot.
“Do you remember me tellin’ you about R. C. Smithson? You know, the deputy from Sumter County?”
“Yeah, of course. The guy who rescued y’all.”
“Right. Well, I called him earlier today to ask his opinion on what’s going on. Turns out he’s now a private investigator in Meridian.”
“Really?” she asked, wondering why.
“Yeah. He really didn’t go into why he changed jobs. At any rate, he agreed to drive up and talk to me tomorrow. He also said he’d look into the loose ends from that night at the Dummy Line for any connections.”
“Do you trust him?”
“I don’t have any reason not to. Katy really liked him, and he was a big help before. Maybe he can help again. He and Sheriff Ollie understand about that night, and they know those redneck thugs better than anybody.”
“Well, then, what about gettin’ Ollie involved?”
“He’s outta town till next week.”
“Okay. Let’s see what R.C. thinks.”
Jake could tell from Morgan’s voice that she liked the idea. He looked back at one of his monitors and said, “Babe, I gotta go. I love you. Bye.” Jake hung up.
Morgan rubbed her baby bump, feeling slightly apprehensive about the future. Her mind then returned to the image of the smiling man disappearing into the darkness of her backyard. Morgan reached into her Coach purse for the comfort of the cold steel of her Smith & Wesson LadySmith.
S
EBASTIAN AND BERNARD
casually walked into the Gold Mine. They knew of the security cameras and assumed they were active. Their goal of quietly checking out the place was shattered when Bailey bounded from behind the counter and hugged them both.
So much for being inconspicuous
, Sebastian thought.
As Bernard chatted with Bailey, he discreetly slipped her a small envelope that contained the magnet and glue. Sebastian adjusted his reading glasses to study the posters explaining what happens to the purchased gold. The material was a confusing attempt to demonstrate the high overhead costs associated with reclaiming jewelry. He was not impressed.