Moon Underfoot (20 page)

B
AILEY ARRIVED AT
work worried that Woody was going to show up and cause a major scene. She wanted so badly to break away from him. She dreaded what was ahead of her if she didn’t. With the money they were going to steal, she would be able to get out of town—start over.

Once the store was open for business, as if he had read the script, Levi offered to go get breakfast.

“You want cheese in your grits?” he asked, walking out the door.

“Yes, please,” she replied, anxious for him to leave.

When the door shut, she went straight to her purse to get the camera. As soon as she laid her hands on it, the back door sprung open, and Levi was standing there with a goofy smile on his face.

“I was just curious…what’s your favorite movie?”

“Uh…what?”

“I just realized that I don’t know what you favorite movie is. That really says a lot about someone.”

Bailey was flustered and couldn’t think of anything else to say, so she asked, “I don’t know. What’s your’s?”

“It’s hard to say. This chick that cuts my hair, she’s always talkin’ about movies and lines from movies. It made me realize
that I might enjoy a movie, but the ones that I really remember are the ones with great lines.”

Bailey wanted him to leave, but she nodded her head as though she actually cared about what he was saying.

“Hell, I like so many, it’s tough to choose one.
A Christmas Story
is probably my all-time favorite, and that movie has got some great lines. I watch it every year when they play the marathon at Christmas. ‘You’ll shoot your eye out, kid!’”

“I’ve seen that. I love it when the kid sticks his tongue to the light pole,” she said with a giggle.

“Sometimes I kinda think me and Moon Pie are like Ralphie and his little brother.”

Bailey laughed. “I don’t think so. Y’all might be those two boys that are always picking on him, though.”

“I even drink Ovaltine sometimes.”

“Well, you certainly take your movies seriously, and I’d love to talk some more about ’em, but I really gotta get to work.”

“Tell me a movie you like, and I’ll let you go.”

Bailey sighed and thought. “I did rent a movie recently called
Double Jeopardy
.”

Levi was leaning on the doorjamb, intently watching her. He offered, “Ashley Judd. I love her.”

“I watched it twice. I kinda identified with her character, and I loved it when she said, ‘Hello, Nick.’”

“Oh yeah! That was really good. See…I learned somethin’ about you. Okay, be right back.”

Levi was gone for ten seconds, and then he suddenly burst back through the door, scaring the crap out of her again.

“Did you know Michelle Pfeiffer was the first choice to play Clarice Starling in
Silence of the Lambs
? She turned it down ‘cuz it was way too scary.”

“Really?” Bailey replied.

“Yep. I love movies.”

“I do too.”

Levi smiled at her. “Great. Okay, now I’m gone to get breakfast. Be right back.”

Bailey walked to the back door and peeked outside to make certain that Levi had indeed left. When she saw him drive off, she grabbed the camera and began looking for an optimum location. She figured that she had twenty minutes to set the camera and place the magnet inside the doorframe, all the while being mindful of Moon Pie’s static cameras.

After setting up the spy camera, she stood on a chair and affixed the magnet to the inside of the metallic backdoor frame. She quickly shut the door and replaced the chair in the back room.

When she heard the back door slam, she playfully called out, “Hello, Nick.”

She could hear footfalls and assumed it was Levi as she turned to leave the office.

“Who the hell’s Nick?” Moon Pie asked as he appeared.

“Nobody. Levi and I were just talkin’ about something, that’s all,” Bailey said, hoping to hide her surprise at seeing Moon Pie.

“Uh-huh. Where’d he go?”

“He went to get us breakfast. It’s always slow Saturday mornings.”

Moon Pie walked into the office and looked around suspiciously. “So, who’s Nick?”

“He’s from a movie that Nick—I mean Levi—and I were talkin’ about before he left.”

“You never talk about movies with me.”

“I really don’t ever really talk movies with anybody. Levi just asked me what I liked.”

“He’s so gay,” Moon Pie said, sitting down in his desk chair.

“No he’s not.”

“So tell me, does Woodrow know about Nick?” Moon Pie asked with a sly smile.

Bailey rolled her eyes and, with a sigh, hurriedly walked toward the front of the store. The best thing about today was that Moon Pie would most certainly open the safe, revealing the code and putting her that much closer to freedom. She planned to call Walter with an update at her first break, when she could go outside for some privacy.

T
AM NGUYEN AND
his fiancée, Alexa, sat in the backseat of his black Mercedes-Benz S600 sedan, heading toward Tupelo, Mississippi. They were three hours late because Alexa had had to shop for new clothes for the meet and greet.

When she had received the e-mail inviting her, she had almost fainted. Tam really didn’t want to attend, but she had pleaded and begged. She finally resorted to insisting that, since it was their anniversary weekend of their first date, it was the only thing she wanted as a gift. He was more of a Black Eyed Peas fan, but since he could conduct business too, the long trip would be worthwhile—even justified.

Following behind Tam’s Benz was a black Ram truck with a matching camper shell. In the bed was nearly $1.7 million of cocaine at wholesale value. The huge Mercedes and its blacked-out windows attracted a lot of attention; however, the Ram truck looked like one of the thousands of other pickup trucks that Mississippians loved to drive. The two drivers communicated via handheld CB radios and cell phones, but they were never out of sight from each other.

Tam glanced at his watch and exhaled deeply. Alexa would have a screaming fit if they were late to the event. It was going to
be close, but he couldn’t risk either vehicle being pulled over for speeding.

Tam preferred military-like precision and was having to learn to be more flexible with Alexa around. She sometimes would take thirty minutes to simply put her hair up in a ponytail. That was hard for Tam Nguyen. Tight controls kept him unincarcerated, ahead of his competition, and alive.

He decided that for the peace of his relationship with Alexa, he would have to make the exchange with Moon Pie the next morning. He studied Alexa as she slept. He knew that his wealth attracted women, but he still couldn’t believe she was his fiancée. She had been working as a swimsuit and fitness model after having been a Hooters calendar girl. Two years earlier, she had dropped out of Tulane University to pursue modeling full-time.
How many guys can say they are engaged to a professional fitness model?

Alexa was also good for his image. He made a mental note to check into leasing or fractional ownership of a private airplane like the King Airs hangared at the local airport. That not only would save him time but also would impress Alexa and his clients. On second thought, he realized that Alexa would insist on flying to Dallas and Atlanta just to shop or attend concerts. It could end up costing him a fortune.

The six men Tam had killed with his own hands would have been surprised to learn that he even considered what others thought or felt. His reputation was one of brutal violence. He intimidated the competition, and rarely, if ever, did he blink at using force first. Somehow Alexa could look past his tough facade to see a caring person. She understood his lifestyle and seemed to enjoy the dichotomy of it. Tam believed that all people, at some point during their lives, would meet someone who appreciated their true being. Alexa was that person for him.

Tam palmed his cell phone and searched for Moon Pie’s number. He typed a text message: “No time 2nite. 2morrow 4 sure. B ready.” Then he hit send.

He laid the phone on the tan leather seat, made himself more comfortable, and pulled out a small notebook to review his coded financials.

T
HE TWO NORTHEAST
Mississippi Drug Task Force officers were working overtime preparing for the meet and sting, as they now referred to it. They discussed it only with those who absolutely needed to know. One of the officers had an old high school buddy who was a police officer in Tupelo, so he had called him in to help put together an undercover squad who could pretend to be concert attendees.

The plan was to use the Hilton Garden Inn, which was adjacent to the BancorpSouth Arena, the concert venue. The task force had reserved the Hilton banquet room and paid an outside caterer and party planner to make the setting seem authentic. An undercover police officer acted as DJ, spinning Rascal Flatts’s hits to set the tone. Officers from several agencies played various roles, from road manager to groupies. Wearing an Ohio State ball cap, one sheriff’s deputy actually looked like Gary LeVox, the lead singer. They couldn’t find an officer thin enough, however, to portray Joe Don, so the play was that the other band members had yet to arrive. The meet and sting appeared to be authentic. Everybody had been briefed extensively on the target. Hopefully by the time Tam walked into the room and discovered the festivities were a fake, the trap would be sprung. The deception was on.

Inside the BancorpSouth Arena, a legitimate meet and greet was under way behind the stage. The genuine members of Rascal Flatts were there, safe. The band had beefed up their security as a precautionary measure. The state and local police had also increased their covert presence and added additional video surveillance. Coupled with the seventy-five stagehands, there was no shortage of testosterone.

For the task force, this sting had a different feel. They knew something good was going to happen when they read a Tweet on Alexa’s Twitter account saying: “Headed 2 meet Rascal Flatts w/my sweetie
!” They had taken the bait.

Finally, after two relentless years, they would get to cuff the drug kingpin of the Mississippi Gulf Coast. Both men worried, however, that they were understaffed because they couldn’t risk divulging the scope of the operation, since they were confident that they had a leak within the department. They were mitigating their typical staffing levels because they assumed that Tam wouldn’t have his typical security contingent, since they were several hundred miles away from home and this was Alexa’s deal. The cops expected two, possibly three, in Tam’s security detail. The two officers went over the plans, trying to think of any base left uncovered. Thirty minutes earlier they had slipped on their bulletproof vests and radioed the team to get into position. Music blared, and the lights were dimmed. They had all listened to “Life Is a Highway” so many times they were sick of it.

“And Oprah likes these guys? Over,” one officer commented into the mic hidden inside his shirt collar.

“She loves ’em. You don’t? Over.”

“Stand by. I see a big-ass black Mercedes pulling up. This could be them.”

“Places…everyone! Game time!”

“I can’t see the plates, but the driver’s checking the place out. Hang on.”