Moon Underfoot (41 page)

He smiled, held up the whiskey bottle in a toast to his brilliant plan, and took a long drink as he reviewed his plans for Jake. First he’d zap Jake again to knock him out and then drop him into the drainpipe, feetfirst. Then he’d bust the beaver construction and listen to Jake beg for his life as the pipe filled with water, slowly drowning him. The next step would be to get medical attention for his wound. At daylight, he’d kill the bald eagle near Officers Lake Road with his suppressed .22 rifle, and then, finally, he would head to Alabama.

Jake had been in and out of consciousness. He was awake, lying on his side on the small backseat of his truck. He couldn’t sit up. Every muscle in his body hurt, and he assumed that the
electric shocks had caused it. His hands were bound in front of him, and he tried to force his knee down in between his wrists to break the large black zip ties, but he couldn’t get enough leverage, and he only caused the ties to cut deep into his wrists.

Moon Pie punched the CD button on Jake’s stereo, and the Conway Twitty song “Hello Darlin’” flowed from the speakers. He shook his head as he punched the stereo’s off button.

“Say, Jake, my boy, got any Johnny Cash?”

Jake ignored the question. He was staring at the back of the driver’s seat, trying to think of what to do. He had found a small flashlight in the cup holder and held it like a weapon. He was thinking that if he could stall long enough, he might be able to regain control over his muscles, throw his bound arms over Moon Pie’s neck, and strangle him with his own zip ties.

Jake finally said, “So what can I do to make you change your mind and not do this? Money? I can get you cash. I’ve got several gold coins and some silver too. Name it. Just tell me what you want. I’m willin’ to do whatever you ask.”

“This ain’t about money,” Moon Pie said, growing agitated as he took a pull of whiskey. “It’s an eye-for-an-eye thing. You know that.”

“There’s gotta be—”

Jake didn’t get to finish the sentence because Moon Pie erupted in anger, slamming on the brakes, throwing Jake into the floorboard. And before Jake could say or do anything, Moon Pie zapped him in the back of the head with the stun gun. Jake’s eyes rolled back in pain.

B
AILEY FINISHED HER
shower, dried her hair, and put on a strapless dress that she had designed and sewn. She hoped Levi loved it as much as she did. It had taken her only twenty-eight minutes to get ready.

As she stepped out of the bedroom into the suite, she said, “I’m ready, Levi.”

Levi’s jacket lay across the back of an armchair, but he was gone, and so were the two suitcases.

She ran to the window overlooking the parking lot, hoping to see him. When she didn’t, she ran out of the suite into the empty hallway and looked both ways. It was empty. She dashed to the elevators and noticed that the indicators showed both elevators were between the lobby and the mezzanine level. Bailey slowly walked back to her room and discovered the door was locked. She hit the door with the palm of her hand and cursed. Turning slowly, she put her back to the door and slid to the hall floor.

The man she thought loved her had just abandoned her. She was crushed. She didn’t care as much about the money as she did about the man, problems and all. He was to be her fixer-upper project, with lots of upside potential. Bailey felt she had hit rock bottom. She began sobbing uncontrollably at the realization that Levi had chosen the money over her.

N
OT WANTING TO
search for an open store in the middle of the night to buy a cell-phone car charger, Levi drove straight to Columbus from Philadelphia. He had to talk to Moon Pie face-to-face. He had to find him before the Mexicans did.

As Levi approached the mobile-home park, he could see two police cars parked close to Moon Pie’s trailer. All the lights in the trailer were on, and he could see Moon Pie’s Bronco right where it had been earlier. Levi didn’t think Moon Pie was in custody, based on his earlier phone call. He suspected that he was on foot.
I gotta get a damn phone charger and call him.
Levi kept driving past the trailer park and straight to the Columbus Walmart Supercenter.

When Levi’s cell phone powered up, he searched his sent calls and found the Mexicans’ number. He hit send.

Julio, recognizing the number, answered, “
¡Hola!
”

“Julio?”

“
Sí, quién es este?
” Julio asked, anxious to talk.

“It’s Levi. I called you a few days ago…to tell you about our problem.”

“
Sí, sí
. We need to talk. We have bad situation.”

“I understand, and I have what you want. Do you have Moon Pie?”

“No we don’t, but we want to talk to him. Where are you? I’ll come to you right now.”

“What? So you’re here? Close? No. No. No. We do this on my terms, my choice of turf. Where are you staying?”

Julio did not want to tell him. As he was thinking what to do, Levi asked again, “Where are you staying? I just need to know what city so I can set up the meet. Believe me, I don’t want any trouble from y’all.”

“We are in West Point.”

Levi instantly knew a spot; just east of them was a landmark windmill. It sat on the edge of a huge field, with excellent visibility. He said, “I’ll call you in the mornin’ to tell you where to meet me at. It’ll only take about fifteen minutes from the middle of West Point.”

“You will have my money?” Julio said.

“
Sí, señor
,” Levi said in his Southern-accented Spanish, and hit end.

M
OON PIE RECKLESSLY
bounced Jake’s truck through the rutted road. Rooster tails of mud flew from the tires as he mashed the gas pedal to the floor whenever the truck lost traction. Moon Pie couldn’t believe that Jake Crosby had just walked into his trailer and presented such a fine opportunity to make things right with Reese, Johnny Lee, and the universe.

As he approached the duck-pond levee, Moon Pie clicked the headlights on bright. Since the levee was higher ground, he had better traction and slowed down. He glanced back at Jake on the floor before looking out the passenger-side window for the drainpipe.

The pipe was right where Moon Pie remembered it, and he turned Jake’s truck at an angle so the headlights cast beams of light across the slough, fully illuminating the pipe.

“Honey, we’re home!” he yelled. Then he took another swig of Tennessee whiskey and laughed. He added, “Man, this is great. Looks like the beavers have been busy trying to clog it up. That looks to be ’bout six inches over the lip. Whoa, there’s gotta be several million gallons of water being held back by just some sticks and mud. Hot damn, this is gonna be fun!”

Jake tried to raise his head to see what Moon Pie was talking about, but he couldn’t see past the dash. He did manage to
force the small flashlight down into his pants pocket and wished that he had any type of weapon. Being careful not to be seen, he checked his cell phone but had no service.
Jesus, just like at the Dummy Line
, he thought.

“Please don’t shock me again, and please listen to me,” Jake pleaded. “The past is past. We can’t do shit about it. I didn’t kill
your
friends in cold blood. They were gonna kill my little girl. Don’t ya get it?”

Moon Pie slammed on the brakes and put the truck into park before it quit moving. He turned to face Jake. “Let me ask you one question. Did you kill them?” Moon Pie was now slurring his words.

Jake didn’t want to answer. Moon Pie was drunk and irrational. Jake exhaled deeply and said a silent prayer. Jake assumed that Moon Pie was slurring from the liquor. He wasn’t aware that he’d been shot and was losing blood also.

“I said: Did. You. Kill. Them? It’s a pretty simple question. Answer me, or I swear to God I’ll shoot you in the face and then put your head in bed with your daughter! Do you hear me?”

Jake was determined to keep him talking. “You know I did. But it was purely self-defense. The cops said so, and so did the DA. Did you know that?”

“I’ll tell you what I do know…I know they’re dead and you’re responsible, asshole.”

“Why is it so hard for you to understand that I was only protecting myself and my little girl?” Jake asked.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You’re some kinda of hotshot, ain’t ya? The newspapers made you out to be a hero, and my friends, they were just low-life white trash…like they had it comin’ or sump’n. Hell, you even made national news. CNN! I can’t believe that shit!”

“I wasn’t a hero.”

“Oh, but they was white trash, huh?”

“I never said that.”

“I’m tired of this bullshit. It’s over. I’m gonna keep my word. At the end of the day, I just might be some sorry white trash myself…but I keep my promises. Say your prayers Mr. Jake Crosby,” he said and then opened the truck door and stepped out. When the dome light illuminated the inside of the cab, Jake frantically looked for anything he could use. Then he saw the truck keys.

Moon Pie stood at the door as if he had just remembered something, and he smiled when he saw Jake looking at the truck keys. He reached in, turned off the ignition, and took the keys. Holding the keys and shaking them in one hand and Jake’s pistol in the other, he said, “Just in case you got any bright ideas, I think I’ll keep these.”

Moon Pie then flipped the headlights back on and shut the door. The swamp was still, except for the fog floating slowly over the water through the lights.

Jake’s adrenaline was flowing, so he was finally able to pull himself off the floor and onto the seat. He struggled until he could see clearly out the front windshield. He could smell the unique scent of the Tombigbee River, so he knew it was close. He saw Moon Pie wading out to a big pipe that had tree limbs and mud piled all around it. Clearly it had been that way for a while, because there were remains of various plants that had been growing on top of it. When Moon Pie bent to look down into the pipe, Jake could see a large bloodstain on his right side. The side of his shirt was slick with it.

Jake figured that Moon Pie would open the small passenger-side door to pull him out. This would be his only chance. Jake lay back across the seat and kicked the dome light as hard as he could. He then pushed himself to that side of the truck and pulled his knees into his chest. His legs were cocked like a spring trap. As soon as Moon Pie opened the door, he was going to kick the crap out of him, preferably where he was bleeding. The force would knock Moon Pie down, giving Jake a chance to get out of
the truck and try to break the zip ties on the trailer hitch. He couldn’t run, but he could drive if he could get the keys.

Jake smiled at the thought of turning the tables on Moon Pie and drowning that evil son of a bitch. He had to kill Moon Pie—right now. Jake took a quick look to see what he was doing and saw him struggling in the deep mud surrounding the pipe. Then it occurred to him that Moon Pie’s plan was to stuff him into that drain. Jake said a silent prayer for himself and for Morgan, Katy, and his baby on the way.

Moon Pie was climbing the levee bank when an air-force jet passed overhead much lower than normal. Planes were such a common occurrence in the area that he barely glanced up to see it. He leaned forward to grab the brush guard on the front of the truck for purchase. Moon Pie’s wound burned, and he was beginning to feel a little weak.
That son of a bitch shootin’ me’s reason enough to kill him…very slowly
.