Moon Underfoot (25 page)

“Thanks” was the only thing Jake could think to say.

“Look, tomorrow I’ll work some of our contacts and see what I can find out about old Moon Pie,” the desk sergeant said, holding up the napkin by a corner. “We haven’t seen or heard of him in a while, but since he’s around, we can put some pressure on him and see what happens.”

The desk sergeant looked out at Morgan talking on her cell phone and said, “I suppose your wife’s freaked out about all this?”

“That would be an understatement.”

The sergeant rose from behind his desk and walked around to Jake. He gently grabbed Jake by the elbow, guiding him toward the door. “Well, let’s get you and your family home safely. You’ll all feel better then.”

I
T HAD BEEN
a while since Tam Nguyen had been behind bars, and he was livid. Incarceration was something he couldn’t handle. He never could appreciate that he would eventually get out. From the moment he was arrested, he started looking for an opportunity to escape. He physically submitted to the overwhelming show of authority, but not mentally. Tam, a caged animal, was preparing to attack, waiting for any opportunity.

The task force officers knew Tam’s reputation and had seen what he was capable of doing. They locked him down as quickly as possible. The Tupelo police had all heard the stories about Tam, but as they peered through protective glass and heavy bars at the small man, they wondered if he was as capable and cruel a criminal as they had been led to believe. In his striped jumpsuit, he looked like a small, tanned shrimper from the Gulf Coast—no different from what they had seen on family vacations. He didn’t fit their idea of the stereotypical drug kingpin.

Alexa had not been the primary target. She was more or less an unknowing victim of the sting. Her love of the band had led her and Tam straight into the trap. They would have let her walk except for her temper. When she saw Tam being arrested, she bitch-slapped the female undercover officer who had initially
tried to restrain her. An hour later, the handprint was still visible on the face of the police chief’s only daughter. As Alexa was introduced to the most heinous outfit of her life, she recognized clearly that her lavish lifestyle was in jeopardy.

Tam was arrested on current and outstanding warrants relating to several drug charges and other crimes, including the deaths of three rival dealers found buried up to their heads on the beach after the tide had receded. The officers vigilantly and thoroughly processed his booking paperwork and fingerprinting. He was then placed in an initial holding cell with four others—two black guys, one of whom had robbed a convenience store and one who had stolen a new car off the dealer’s lot; a skinny white meth head who had stolen his father’s hunting rifles to buy prescription cough syrup; and another Asian, about Tam’s same height and build, who had been caught stealing copper from a construction site.

Before the steel door shut, Tam began assessing everyone for potential usefulness under the circumstances. He slowly made his way to the far corner, spread his legs a bit, and squatted down on his heels, surveying the room for weaknesses, both human and structural.

W
ALTER WATCHED SEBASTIAN
carefully trying to tease the lock open with his pocketknife.

The radio in his pocket cracked again. “You guys okay? We need to hurry up.”

“Yes, Bernard. Just relax.”

Sebastian grunted at Bernard’s impatience. “What’s the matter with him?”

“I think as a kid he used to chase the mosquito truck down the street, and that probably melted some of his brain cells.”

“I remember those days,” Sebastian commented with a chuckle as he worked. “We drank water from a garden hose, not a plastic bottle, and we didn’t have a care in the world.”

“And we ate what we wanted.”

Walter laughed. “You know, when I was newly married, sometimes I’d tell a white lie about where I was or what I was doing. Nothing serious. My late wife, rest her soul, didn’t like me playin’ poker. Then when I got older, hell, I had to lie about what I ate for lunch just to keep her off my back. She thought I ate a great many grilled-chicken-breast sandwiches and salads.”

Sebastian was enjoying the distraction as he worked. “I know exactly what you’re talking about. Now we’re old, worn out, and facing Obamacare…but at least we can eat whatever the hell we want.”

“You get that door open and the future’s gonna look a lot brighter.”

“I think I got it…hang on and get ready to run,” he said as the lock slid back. He slowly pulled the door open.

They both stared at each other for a few seconds as they listened for an alarm, and then wide smiles broke over their faces.

“Walter? Just to be sure, go check the keypad; it’ll probably be flashing if it’s sending a silent alarm.” Sebastian slowly raised himself from the floor.

Standing right in front of the keypad, Walter pulled on his bifocals to read all the buttons. “I think we’re good to go.”

“Thank you, Lord. Now, let’s get busy. We’ve been in here over eight minutes already,” Sebastian said as he walked into the office.

“Gold’s over seventeen hundred bucks an ounce. We should grab all the gold he’s got and sell it somewhere else,” Sebastian said as he stared at the big gun safe.

“First, let’s get the safe open. I’ll let you have the honors,” Walter said with a twinkle in his eye. He glanced around the dark room and saw framed Manning jerseys.
Those numbers woulda been my choice for a code
, he thought.

“Thirty-six, twenty-four, thirty-six, pound,” Sebastian said as he punched the keypad, listening to each high-pitched beep.

When the lock released, Sebastian turned the five-spoke handle to the right and pulled open the safe door. They focused their flashlights on the inside.

“There are the boot boxes! Just like Bailey said!”

Walter reached inside and started taking out the boxes. They weren’t too heavy. He opened the top of one and saw cash stacked haphazardly.

“How much you think’s in there?” Sebastian asked with schoolboy excitement.

“I don’t know…maybe a hundred thousand?”

“It’s gotta be more than that; she said it was sometimes as much as three hundred grand!” Sebastian said.

“It’s hard to say. It’s a pile of money, though. Help me fit ’em in this bag. We gotta get outta here! We’ll count it later. See anything else in there?” Walter asked as he placed the boxes in his duffel bag.

Sebastian peered inside like he was looking in the stomach of a whale.

“Hell yeah!”

“What is it?”

“I can’t believe this.”

“What the hell is it?” Walter asked as he slung the duffel on his shoulder.

“It’s my old huntin’ rifle that got stolen years ago!”

“Are you serious?” Walter had what he wanted, but if Sebastian could get his old rifle back, that was fine by him.

“Yep, it’s my old Steyr. I know it. I loved this old rifle. I’m taking it!”

“That’s fine with me, but let’s get the hell outta here.”

Sebastian looked at his watch and realized they’d been inside twice as long as they had anticipated.

Walter stepped toward the door and grabbed his radio. “We’re ready to come out.”

“Clear as the coast,” Bernard reported back. Walter shook his head.

“Hey, you feelin’ guilty about this?” Walter asked Sebastian.

“The Kroger deal, yeah…but this guy’s a two-bit dirtbag, and no,” he said with a serious look. “You?”

Walter had already given this plenty of thought. He had grown up in a household of strong values and tried to live as an adult by the same standard. Until Kroger came along, he had
never stepped out of line. What he had promised his wife somehow justified the path he was now on. Walter looked at the rifle in Sebastian’s hands and said, “This redneck had your rifle. It’s just payback.”

“Man, am I glad to get her back,” Sebastian remarked, holding the gun with the same care as he would a newborn baby.

“Okay, we need to wipe everything you’ve touched since you took your gloves off,” Walter said, trying to cover their tracks. “I’m gonna place this can of dip where it can’t be missed.”

Walter placed the silver-topped can on the desk next to the safe, as if it had been forgotten in a moment’s haste. He walked out of the office and from the shadows looked out the front window. Rain gently fell. A few cars passed. His heart began to race as he thought about how close they were to pulling off this heist. He knew that once they got into the van and hit Highway 45 heading north, they were home free. He couldn’t wait to count the money. He started to unwrap a cigar, when he heard Velcro being ripped apart and wondered what Sebastian was doing.

“Walter,” Sebastian said in a strange tone.

“Yeah?”

“You need to get back in here and look at this.”

A
MUTED CELL
phone had been silently ringing for twenty minutes in Levi’s pocket while he explained in great detail to his date that the most bacteria-infested place on a man was his wallet. She had been fascinated with his trivia knowledge but didn’t like hearing how bacteria colonies were formed in a guy’s sweaty wallet and were being passed around through the exchange of currency.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, glancing over at her as he drove south through the rainy night.

“Let’s talk about something else, anything…please.”

“Sure. Wadda ya wanna talk about?”

Levi’s date unbuckled her seat belt and sat Indian-style facing him. “What’s next?”

“Wadda ya mean?”

“What do you want to do with the rest of your life?” she asked. “This gold rush probably won’t last forever.”

“I dunno,” he said sheepishly.

“You haven’t thought about it?”

“Oh, I have, but you’ll laugh if I tell ya.”

“No I won’t.”

“I love trees.”

“Trees?”

“Yeah. I’ve been takin’ some online courses from Mississippi State…and I’d like to be a guy who travels around saving old trees.”

“Really?”

“Yeah…think about it. There are trees that have been around since the American Revolution. They can live a long time, and they’ve experienced a lot of history. There are trees around here that were alive when the Union and Confederate forces marched through back in the 1860s. But every year, I notice one dyin’ somewhere…in a neighborhood or a pasture. I wanna save trees.”

“I hadn’t ever thought about that. Can you make any money doin’ it?”

“I don’t really know, but it’s what I really wanna do. I figure if I save up enough money to bankroll me for about a year, then, if I’m any good, maybe I’ll make a decent living, and at least I’ll be happy.”

Levi’s date appreciated his honesty and smiled at him as she brushed her hair behind her ear. “So, what’s a tree savior called?”

“An arborist, but some folks call ’em tree surgeons.”

“Oooh…I like that. I always wanted to tell my friends I was datin’ a doctor, but a surgeon would work!”

“So…we’re dating?”

“Well…you’re not a surgeon yet.”

Levi smiled and turned up the volume to the CD he had bought at the concert and sang “Bless the Broken Road” to his date. It had been an enjoyable night. He’d had a good meal and seen a great concert, he had luckily crossed paths with Moon Pie’s nemesis, and now he was telling a beautiful woman his dream and she wasn’t laughing at it or him.