Moon Underfoot (36 page)

In that moment, Bailey devised a plan. She grabbed her purse and the luggage and took off for the stairwell next to the elevator. She dashed down the stairs one floor and waited on the landing until she heard the elevator pass. She opened the stairwell door and quickly punched the down button. Then she retrieved the suitcases as she nervously waited on the elevator. She held her breath when the door slowly opened. It was empty. She quickly pulled the bags inside and punched the button for the lobby.

Bailey hurried to her car, loaded it, and pulled away from the hotel and Woody as fast as she dared. She knew that he was
inside her grandmother’s apartment at that moment, searching for her or any sign of where she was. If she hadn’t fled with the money, neither she nor it would have survived.

She said a quick prayer of thanksgiving as she tried to think of a place to hide—someplace where no one would think to look. Places like the Best Western in Columbus or the Holiday Inn Express in Starkville would not work; they were too obvious and too close to home. She needed privacy, a quiet place to sort out what she had done and what she would do. The first place that popped into her mind was the Golden Moon hotel at the Pearl River Resort in Philadelphia, Mississippi. It was only about an hour’s drive. With its luxury rooms, great restaurants, and a spa, she could be pampered while making plans.

Not fully thinking through the ramifications, she decided not to tell the others for a day or so to protect them, and the money, from Woody. She feared that if he threatened or hurt one of them, they might reveal her location.

She concocted her cover story on the way. She transformed herself into a country-music songwriter who needed extreme privacy to finish several songs…and she said that she might have a guest joining her later. The Golden Moon’s front desk understood Bailey’s need for discretion and allowed her to pay cash without asking for identification.

Bailey lay on the king-size bed in one of the hotel’s VIP suites. Her luggage was stacked neatly in the far corner. She sat up to take a drink of bottled water. She rationalized what she had done; she knew that the group would be proud of her for protecting their money. She had identified a threat and reacted.

Her whole life, she hadn’t had many material things or even time to herself. She had placed all of her dreams on hold while she worked to take care of her mother and pay all of her medical and then funeral bills. Bailey was beginning to see the money as a chance to escape her past and start fresh. But she also was beginning to hear disapproving voices, clear as day, of all those
people who had been instrumental in raising her. She heard her mother, her grandmother, and one of her Sunday-school teachers she had long ago forgotten.

She lay back on the bed and wrestled with right and wrong, marveling at the amount of money in the room with her. She desperately wanted to recapture some of the time she had missed while taking care of others.

Out of the blue, she began thinking of Levi. There was something attractive about him—the person. It was something you wouldn’t notice necessarily if you only briefly talked to him.
You gotta get to really know him before it’s noticeable. I guess it’s not so much noticed really as it is revealed,
she thought.

Levi made her smile, and he made her belly-laugh—something she hadn’t done in the last five years. She looked at her phone, wishing he would call or text. She wanted to talk to him. Thanksgiving was in a few days. She had never been with a boyfriend for whom she was thankful. As Bailey grappled with new emotions and old thoughts, she drifted off to sleep.

S
EBASTIAN AND WALTER
asked Lucille and Bernard to meet in the library of the old hotel. Outside the big windows, Bernard stared at the traffic on Commerce Street. It was as though he were in a trance. This meeting demanded privacy, so Walter asked the two other residents, playing cards, if they would leave. Once they did, Walter shut the door, turned to Lucille, and fired the first question: “Have you heard from Bailey?”

“No. She’s not answering her phone.”

“Is there some family she could be staying with?”

“Hell, she’s got over a million bucks; she could stay anywhere she damn well wants,” Sebastian aggressively chimed in.

“We don’t
know
that she took it,” Lucille said defensively.

Walter took a deep breath and held his hand up, indicating Sebastian needed to remain calm. Walter prodded, “Do you have
any
idea where she might be?”

“Why? What are y’all gonna do?”

“We just wanna
talk
to her,” Sebastian offered.

“Y’all sound like the cops on them TV shows.”

“Lucille, don’t you want to know what happened?” Walter asked. “This isn’t like Bailey…but the truth is, for this much money, people will do crazy things.”

Lucille remained quiet but fidgeted in her chair.

Walter tried to read her body language and get her to talk instead of shutting down. “What we did was wrong, and now somebody’s wronged us. We just wanna know who.”

“And why,” Sebastian said. Then he added. “Although…I suppose we know
why
.”

Lucille glared at Sebastian.

Walter knew that he needed to defuse the situation. “Okay, everybody, let’s just stay calm and focus.”

Walter shifted his attention to Bernard, who was still staring out the window. He was watching two Mexican men standing on the sidewalk. They were looking at the hotel building as though they were considering buying it. They made eye contact with him and then walked away.

“Do you know them, Bernard?” Walter asked, taking a hard look at the men walking down the sidewalk. “Bernard!” Walter said loudly enough that Bernard jumped. “Do you know them?”

“Who? Those two? Naw, I’ve never seen ’em before in my life,” Bernard answered.

“That was odd. Kinda creepy,” Walter said as he realized everyone could see them. “It’s like we’re in an aquarium and those guys were just watching.”

“Or a zoo,” Sebastian offered.

“Bernard, did you take that big bag to the police station?” Walter asked.

“Yeah, after Bailey and I bought some luggage for the money…I knew the police officer really wanted it.”

“Okay, just checking. We ran into him earlier and didn’t know how it got to him.”

Bernard looked at everyone at the table. “What? Did I do somethin’ wrong?”

“No, that’s fine.”

“So what are we gonna do now that we’ve lost all our money?” Sebastian asked. Then he added, more to himself than the group, “I don’t think my heart can take any more breakin’ and enterin’.”

“I don’t know. I sure would like to talk to Bailey. Anybody got any ideas?” Walter asked, looking at Lucille, who was waving at a guy standing on the sidewalk who was staring at them. He looked like he had just stepped out of an Abercrombie & Fitch catalog, except nothing was pressed.

“Who the hell is that?” Sebastian asked suspiciously.

“That’s Levi. Bailey works with him at the Gold Mine,” Lucille said.

Walter smiled. “Really? Invite him in. I’d like to meet him. We can finish this discussion later.”

S
AMANTHA SAT QUIETLY
at her desk in a state of mild shock after the three old men explained the current situation. She would not have believed them if she hadn’t been in the Kroger meetings. After a long silence, she stood when there was a knock at her outer-office door. She walked to her coffeepot and filled a Styrofoam cup on her way to answer the door. The three men watched.

When she opened it, a middle-aged man gawked back, nervously asking, “Where’d the marriage counselor move to?”

“Are you really having marriage problems?”

“She was good to…you know…talk to.”

Sam handed him the cup of coffee, saying, “It’s black, just like your eyes will be when your wife finds out what you’re doing. Go down to the lobby and drink it, and think about what you’ll lose if your wife finds out that you’ve been cheating on her.” Samantha slammed the door and marched back into her office, where the old men were wild-eyed. “Men,” she said in disgust.

“Half,” Bernard said.

“Excuse me?”

“You lose half of everything in a divorce…I’ve lost half of everything three times. That’s why I’m so broke I can’t pay attention.”

Sebastian snickered, and everyone shifted in their chairs while Sam coldly looked them each in the eyes. When she got to Walter, she said, “Just so I understand, the money we were gonna give back to Kroger is gone?”

Walter, knowing his tail could be in a crack, sighed and said, “Yes.”

“And yet somehow, the three of you managed to lay your hands on nearly a million more dollars without getting caught or killed.”

Bernard smiled proudly and answered while Walter and Sebastian groaned. “That’s why we’re here. We want you to do some investigatin’ to see if you can find where Bailey Worden is. We know she’s got it.”

“You’ve been watching too many
Perry Mason
reruns. I’m not an investigator,” she informed them.

“Can’t you hire one?” Bernard asked.

“And pay him with what?”

“When we find the money, there will be plenty,” Sebastian said hopefully.

“Guys, I’m afraid y’all may be close to getting in some serious trouble.”

Nobody said a word. They all looked at the floor. To Sam they looked like three grade-schoolers in the principal’s office.

“Where on earth did y’all steal the money, and who’s Bailey Worden?”

“Is this…what’s the word?” Sebastian asked.

“
Privileged
,” Sam almost screamed. “And whether I like it or not, I’m your attorney. So, yes, sir, what you tell me is privileged and will remain confidential. Now, tell me everything. Start at the beginning.”

F
ROM WHERE JAKE
was parked near the entrance to the mobile-home park, he could see Moon Pie’s trailer—the third single-wide on the left. A restored Bronco with the back open was parked next to it. The trailer park had been around since the mid-sixties, and several of the homes appeared to be that old. About half of the trailers had old tires on their roofs. Next to an overflowing green Dumpster was the frame of a swing set from which a small skinned deer carcass was hanging by its legs in a gambrel.

Jake had called in a favor from a Rotary Club friend who worked for the police department to get Moon Pie’s address. He still couldn’t believe that no one in law enforcement had warned him that this guy was living less than twenty miles away. Jake had also learned that Moon Pie drove a tricked-out late-model FJ Cruiser, which he couldn’t see parked anywhere.

Since Moon Pie’s vehicle wasn’t around, Jake decided to sneak a look in the windows. He pulled down his Mossy Oak fleece jacket to cover his pistol, which was jutting out of his back pocket. He then eased the pickup door shut. His heart was racing. He took a long, deep breath and slowly let it out through his nose in an effort to calm his nerves. Although he couldn’t see
anyone, Jake assumed that someone was probably watching out for anything suspicious.

The windows at the rear of the first trailer were all covered in aluminum foil. Next to it was a sporty new orange Camaro that undoubtedly cost more than the trailer. The second trailer appeared to be unoccupied. Tall grass grew all around, and all of the window curtains were closed. Jake hugged the edge of the aluminum house as he peeked around the rear corner at Moon Pie’s trailer. From this vantage, he could see several bags were being packed into the back of the Bronco.