Moon Underfoot (26 page)

Levi had been on a direct course for incarceration, particularly over these last few years. His half brother was the worst influence imaginable. However, given the proper inspiration and
influence, Levi had the basic values to be a productive citizen. He just needed the proper motivation.

Meanwhile, in his pocket, Levi’s cell showed seven missed calls and two unread text messages from his quickly angering half brother. The last text read, “Call me asap u stupid shit!!!”

B
ERNARD DESPERATELY WANTED
to turn around to see the money Walter and Sebastian were excitedly talking about, but he had to concentrate on driving. They couldn’t get stopped by the police. Judging by Walter and Sebastian’s comments, they had stolen a hell of a lot more money than they had anticipated.

Sebastian was trying to rough-count the cash. “I’m telling y’all, there’s a million bucks here…just in this bag!”

“It’s gonna take us all night to count.”

“You got something better to do?” Bernard asked.

“Nope. Just get us back home safe,” Walter replied. Then to Sebastian he said, “You did really good tonight. Crackin’ that door lock was impressive.”

“Thanks. It felt good.”

“What door are y’all talkin’ about?” Bernard asked.

“The door to the office was locked, and our man here picked it.”

“Years of gunsmithing finally pay off.”

“I’ll say it’s paid off,” Walter remarked, slapping the side of the money bag.

Bernard held up a silver key. “Bailey gave this to me this yesterday. She said it’s the key to the office and that we might need it. Sorry, I forgot.”

Walter placed his cigar in the corner of his mouth, leaned forward, and took the key from Bernard. “This certainly would have made things easier.”

“I’m sorry,” Bernard said as he watched Walter’s eyes in his rearview mirror.

“Don’t worry about it. Thanks to Sebastian, we went over that hurdle.”

“Did y’all leave the evidence?”

“We sure did,” Walter stated as he pointed with his cigar.

“Woody’s not gonna have time to bother Bailey anymore,” Sebastian added.

“Perfect!”

“And thanks to Bailey’s insight and direction, our little foundation just received a huge donation,” Walter said.

“Is there really a million dollars back there?” Bernard asked as he turned his head to look.

“I’m thinkin’ there is…this bag’s is full of big bills. They’ll add up to a huge number quick.”

Following a moment of clarity, Walter said, “Guys, listen to me. This is serious shit. We gotta be really careful. We can’t tell anyone or draw any attention to ourselves. Somebody’s gonna get killed for this.”

“Yeah, like Woody,” Sebastian chuckled.

“Seriously. It could be Bailey or us if we aren’t careful. That’s a lot of money, and somebody’s gonna be really pissed.”

“Are you thinkin’ that we shouldn’t have framed Woody?” Sebastian asked.

“Maybe.”

“You serious?”

“Somebody’s gonna completely freak out about this money! Woody’s an abuser, and that’s about as low as it gets in my book, but we shouldn’t be playing judge and jury.”

“But what we’re doing is to help others,” Bernard said.

“We just stole a shit pot full of money…and now you’re feelin’ guilty?” Sebastian asked.

Walter’s guilt was that he had convinced the others to believe in him and his ideas. They now believed that some wrongs were right, if they were done to benefit another. How did one determine what was right and what was wrong? And who gets to make that determination? He had convinced them to alter their core beliefs. The allure of money was powerful. It motivated people to make excuses for their actions rather than taking responsibility for their choices.

“Let’s just get back to the Henry Clay. We are all jacked up on adrenaline and coffee. I don’t mean to suddenly change and sound like a television evangelist after we’ve done all this.”

“You think we oughta go back and get the can of dip?” Bernard asked.

“I don’t know…maybe? The fact that there was all this additional cash makes me think something really big was about to go down and that we got real lucky.”

“We can go back if you think we should. I trust your judgment,” Sebastian said. Then he added, “But I gotta say, I think we’d really be pushin’ that luck.”

J
AKE FOLLOWED A
Mississippi state trooper all the way to the north side of West Point and then followed a local black-and-white to the house in Old Waverly. At first Katy and her friend thought it was “so cool” to follow a police car, but they had both fallen asleep after about fifteen minutes. Morgan hadn’t said much, and Jake could tell she was angry—not necessarily at him, but he was the handiest target. He wondered what more he could have done.

Two West Point police officers walked around the outside of Jake’s house and shined flashlights in potential hiding spots. Everyone assumed the inside was safe, since the alarm had been set. Jake shook each officer’s hand and thanked them. He noticed that it had quit raining and the temperature had dropped several degrees since they left for the concert.

“You sure you don’t want us to look around inside? We don’t mind,” one of the officers politely offered.

“No, it’s not necessary. Y’all have done plenty, and the house alarm was set. I really appreciate the offer, though.”

As the police cruiser pulled away, Katy’s friend’s parents pulled up. It didn’t surprise Jake that they would want to take her home. He’d do the same thing. He’d even offered to drop her off
on the way home, but they insisted on coming to his house. He assumed that they didn’t want him anywhere near their home.

Morgan met them at the front door with a very sleepy twelve-year-old girl. She was clutching her concert souvenirs, including a curled, airbrushed cowboy hat with pink feathers that seemed like a good idea at the time but would never be worn again.

Not knowing what to say about everything that had happened, Morgan said to the mom, “I think she had a great time. The concert was really good.”

“Thanks for taking her. She texted me that she had fun,” she said as she stroked her daughter’s hair.

Jake quickly added, trying to assuage her fears, “Don’t worry; she was with Morgan and me the whole time.”

“Are y’all gonna be okay?” the father asked.

Morgan looked at Jake and then back at the dad and said, “Oh yes. A whole bunch of cops are lookin’ for this guy.”

As the parents were heading for the car, the mom said, “Call us if you need anything or if Katy needs a place to stay. Oh, and congratulations! I heard you’re expecting!”

“We will, and thank you,” Morgan said with a slight wave. She folded her arms tightly as the parents hurriedly drove off.

Jake looked at her and sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Jake.”

“I sure feel like it is.”

“Come on, let’s get inside. I’m cold, and I wanna lock the doors and turn on the alarm.”

“Go ’head. I’ll be in shortly. I need to make a phone call first.”

“Who are you going to call at this hour?”

“R.C.”

“It’s almost two.”

“Knowin’ him, he’s probably watching
Law and Order
reruns.”

“Okay. Please be sure and set the alarm when you come in.”

Jake nodded and then watched Morgan walk into the house and close the door.
She doesn’t need all this stress, particularly bein’ pregnant
. They had finally gotten their lives and marriage back on track since the Dummy Line.

Jake knew that he had to do something; everything was in jeopardy yet again. He had plenty of firepower, and if he had the element of surprise, he could take out Moon Pie. He’d kill him Pie if it came down to it.

Jake looked back through the leaded glass of the front door, thinking that others were depending on him, just like at the Dummy Line. He needed a plan. He couldn’t go off half-cocked. Success, and most likely his life, would depend on it.

He glanced at the dark sky, wondering where the moon was, and realized he had to talk to R.C. He dialed the number. When it went to voice mail, Jake said, “R.C., this is Jake Crosby. We had an incident at the concert tonight. Moon Pie saw us there and passed a note to me. By the time I read it, he was gone. At any rate, I’m sick and tired of this bullshit. Monday mornin’ I’m goin’ to his gold shop and confront him. I was hopin’ you might join me. You’ve got my number. Please give me a call.”

Jake slid the phone into his pocket and opened his front door.

A distraught Morgan met him. “I can’t find Scout!”

M
OON PIE SAT
in the dark, chain-smoking cigarettes, waiting for Levi. By 2:10 a.m., he had been through every scenario he could imagine, trying to determine a way to at least keep the cash and possibly even Tam’s drugs. Each scenario, however, involved him eventually losing his life in a manner that would make a sadomasochist flinch. Moon Pie finally settled on making the drop as planned, demonstrating to Tam that he was more than capable of handling the business in Tam’s absence.

When Levi finally dragged in, Moon Pie snuffed out his cigarette and cussed him for not responding to his calls or texts. The only way Levi finally got him to settle down was by telling him the story about seeing Jake Crosby at the concert. Moon Pie loved the message that he had passed to Jake and laughed hard about it.

“You know, truth be told, Crosby did me a favor.” Moon Pie lit another cigarette.

Levi’s eyes were closed. All he wanted to do was to go to sleep. “How so?”

“I’ve told ya, I wouldn’t be the main runner in the area if Johnny Lee was alive and kickin’.”

“Yeah, but he was your friend.”

“He was an asshole. Always wantin’ to fight. He had a plate put in his head after he fell off a four-wheeler and was just plain mean after that.”

“What about Reese?” Levi asked without much interest.

“He shoulda never even called me that night. They shoulda handled it themselves insteada draggin’ my sorry ass into it and then makin’ me promise I’d avenge Johnny Lee’s murder.”

Levi hovered somewhere between sleep and boredom while he listened to Moon Pie rant. In between nodding his agreement, Levi kept thinking about trees and out-of-state colleges. He knew that he needed to get away from his half brother’s bad influence and make his own life—one that didn’t include looking over his shoulder for the police or a rival runner. All he needed was the ability to pay the bills while he focused on school.
About fifty grand is all I need.

“Okay, in the morning I’ll get them to meet us at the Barton Ferry boat ramp,” Moon Pie said as he stood to go to bed.

“Bad idea; there may be duck hunters scoutin’ the river. The first three-day season comes in next week,” Levi explained.

“You gotta better idea?” Moon Pie said as he turned off the television.

“What about the abandoned bomb-makin’ plant in Prairie? It’s a huge place, and nobody’s ever there. It’s easy to hide and defend. Plus, it ain’t that far.”

“The reason nobody’s ever there is cuz it’s haunted, dumb ass. Don’t you remember that TV show filming up there and that good-lookin’ reporter gettin’ attacked?”