Moon Underfoot (35 page)

“
¿Guillermo, si le robaron nueve mil millones de dólares, qué haría?
” Julio asked.

Guillermo leaned back in his chair. He sat silent for a long moment, thinking. Finally he said, “If I had stolen the money, I would leave town quietly, never to be seen again. If I could not run—if I had to stay—I would claim someone else stole it.”

“Lo que causaría que usted permanezca?”

“Children, wife, parents, maybe even a girlfriend, would cause me to stay.”

“
Sí
, these things are important to you. But most drug runners are cold-blooded. They know the risks. They don’t get attached to any place or person. You can’t.”

Julio paused for a long while and then said, “This behavior doesn’t make sense.”

T
AM ARRIVED AT
his gated hideout in Bayou La Batre, Alabama, exhausted from the stress of being hunted. Alexa had attempted to call him several times, but he didn’t trust her any longer. In his gut, he had known that the trip to Tupelo would be a mistake, but because Alexa was so crazy about Rascal Flatts and this was going to be her best bet to meet the band, he gave in. He should have trusted his instincts. He didn’t believe she had knowingly participated in the sting, but she was now a substantial liability. Tam spread the word within his organization that no one was to have any form of communication with her. No text. No e-mail. No phone calls. Nothing.
She’s on her own, at least until I can order a hit on her. It will have to be up close and personal, preferably to appear natural—possibly a slip and fall in a hotel shower. I can’t risk what she might divulge under pressure.

Moon Pie had been picked up for questioning, since he was in possession of the Mercedes’s ignition key and because of his now clearly established association with an alleged drug dealer and escaped prisoner. Through the jailhouse grapevine, Tam had learned already that Moon Pie had kept his mouth shut about even knowing Tam. He realized that he had probably lost the Benz but wrote it off as a cost of doing business, albeit a
very expensive one. Tam had never been a big fan of Moon Pie because he seemed to fly by the seat of his pants, and he used him for the one trade route only because he didn’t have an alternative. Although Moon Pie had come through for Tam today, he had also lost the client’s money. This had to be resolved before he would continue using Moon Pie. Tam respected loyalty, but he also demanded dependability.
About the only thing that didn’t go to shit this weekend is that I still got my load of drugs
, Tam thought.

Tam needed to relax, to think through his next moves, but first, he had one piece of important unfinished business. He placed a hand on a black monitor outside a heavy metal door. Once the pad read his palm print, the door unlocked with a click and a hissing sound. Tam walked into the vault room, put on a pair of white cotton gloves, opened one of several large safes, and withdrew four stacks of bundled hundred-dollar bills. He closed and locked the safe and then walked over to a metal table in the center of the room. He removed an appropriately sized Tiffany box from the shelf under the table, placed the cash inside the box, and taped it closed.

After closing and locking the vault-room door, he called one of his most trusted associates. When he arrived, Tam gave him the box and a slip of paper with the name and address of a Vietnamese family in Biloxi.

Tam handed him the box and instructed, “Take this box and give it to the family tonight. Do not say anything else. Do not tell them where it came from.”

The courier nodded his understanding and bowed slightly, leaving Tam alone.

Tam removed the gloves as he walked over to a bottle of Macallan eighteen-year-old single malt sitting on the bar.

S
EBASTIAN AND WALTER
leaned against the rental van and looked up at the old Henry Clay hotel. Only one other building in town even came close to it in terms of height. The hotel had changed names and ownership several times since being constructed in the mid-1840s. Walter chewed his cigar and imagined that this old building had seen countless interesting events. But none could rival someone walking through that front door carrying over a million dollars in cash. Both the old men were unsure what to do about the missing money or the missing Bailey.

“Bailey hasn’t answered her phone all day,” Walter finally said.

“Would you?”

“We should drive by her place. Maybe she told a neighbor where she was goin’.”

“I’m ready when you are.”

“What are we gonna do if we find her? Pull a pistol and rob her?”

“Yeah!” Sebastian said immediately, and then thought better of it. He continued, “I mean…maybe. Hell, I don’t know.”

They heard a car stop behind them and turned around at the same time. A police cruiser had stopped. The same officer they had bumped into Saturday night was smiling at them. Walter waved awkwardly.

“How y’all doin’ today?”

“We’re doin’ just fine, Officer,” Walter replied somewhat sarcastically, but the officer didn’t pick up on it.

The cop, obviously happy to see them, said, “Big football game this weekend in Starkville. You guys goin’?”

“Nah, we’ll probably just watch it on TV,” Walter said, looking at Sebastian. “We don’t really like crowds.”

“Or long walks,” Sebastian added.

“Yeah, I know. I gotta work the game. At any rate, I just wanted to stop by and thank y’all for the bag.”

Walter and Sebastian traded looks of confusion.

“Y’all didn’t have to do that. But I gotta tell ya, I really do appreciate it. It’s perfect for my gear,” he said.

Walter struggled for what to say or ask. He wanted to learn more but feared asking many questions. All he could come up with was, “I hope we got all the magazines out.”

“Yes, sir. It was empty and laying on my desk. Thanks again. Gotta jump,” the officer said. Then, with a salute, he drove off.

Sebastian and Walter looked at each other. They knew who it had to be. Only one other person was there Saturday night. At the same time they said, “Bernard!”

L
EVI DIDN’T LIKE
the idea of being alone in the Gold Mine, thinking about the Tennessee Mexicans that he assumed were lurking somewhere in the shadows. Anticipating that encounter was killing him. He used binoculars to make sure that the police officer watching the Gold Mine was still inside the unmarked car. Knowing that a cop was keeping an eye on him was comforting, in a weird, ironic sort of way, since he typically spent most of his time eluding the police. Now that he knew they were actively watching, he appreciated them.

He chuckled to himself as he dialed Moon Pie’s cell phone. “It worked. He’s still out here,” Levi said, adjusting the pistol tucked into the waistband at his back. “And I’m kinda glad.”

“As soon as I get my shit loaded and cross the state line, I’ll call ya.”

“About how long you think?”

“Maybe an hour and a half. No more than two.”

Levi was now sitting on the floor at the back of the lobby in the dark, watching the police officer. “Sounds good.
Adiós, amigo
,” he said, chuckling mockingly, and then flipped shut the cell phone and exhaled. He was bait, and it wasn’t a good feeling.

He leaned his head back and tried to think of Bailey. He wondered what she was doing. He couldn’t take her earlier call, and he was considering whether he should try to reach her. She was everything he wanted in a partner and was different from other girls he had dated. She was smart and hardworking, went to church, and was a stunning natural beauty with a giant, caring heart. Levi knew that he was smitten. He also knew to have any hopes of a meaningful relationship with her, he was going to have to get a real job. Love is a powerful incentive, and Levi was suddenly feeling motivated.

After he had been sitting on the floor for about twenty minutes, a mud-covered Chevrolet pickup truck parked in front of the Gold Mine. Levi pulled himself deeper into the shadows as he watched the driver open his door and step out. Levi instantly recognized Jake Crosby, and a smile formed on his lips. Levi flipped open his cell and hit the redial key.

Moon Pie’s patience had run thin with interruptions of his packing, but he resisted the urge to snap at Levi. He assumed the call was important. He answered, “Yeah?”

“You’ll never guess who just drove up and is standing outside the Gold Mine,” Levi said in a whisper.

“Who?”

“I wouldn’t believe it if I wasn’t seein’ him right now with my own eyes.”

“Dammit, Levi! I ain’t got time for this shit. Just tell me who it is!”

Jake had walked to the front door and put his face and hands against the glass to look inside. Levi was invisible in the shadows behind a table, less than ten feet away.

“Jake Crosby.”

“Well, hell fire. I’ll be damned.”

“Live and in person,” Levi continued in a whisper.

“Is the cop still there?”

“Oh yeah. He’s still sittin’ across the street, pro’ly tryin’ to figure out what the hell’s goin’ on.”

“What’s our boy Jake doing right now?”

“Tryin’ real hard to see in…he’s lookin’ for something.”

“That crazy bastard’s lookin’ for me!”

“You think he’s got some gold he wants to sell?” Levi asked sarcastically.

“I think that note you handed him pushed him over the freakin’ edge.”

“He does kinda look nervous.”

“Damn! I wish I was there. Shit! Look, I gotta go. Call me if he does anythin’,” Moon Pie directed and then hung up.

W
HEN BAILEY GLANCED
out the window and saw Woody aggressively walking toward the old hotel, she knew it meant trouble. He had been to her grandmother’s apartment, and locked doors had never slowed him down. He would pick the lock, or more times than not, he would just kick the door in.

The old men and her grandmother were not around. As she looked for something to use to defend herself, she saw the cash-filled luggage and knew Woody would assume the bags were hers and that she was leaving. He wouldn’t hesitate to dump out the contents to make a point that she wasn’t going anywhere.