chapter 13
ETHAN “MOON PIE” Daniels had no formal education but a lot of street smarts. His savvy business instincts had created enough success to allow him to pursue his obsession of poaching big whitetail deer. Some people scuba dive; others play golf. Moon Pie loved to sneak onto someone else’s property and poach the biggest deer on the place. He loved the rush of getting away with it more than anything. He also sold the antlers to a taxidermist, who in turn sold them to interior decorators via the Internet.
His daddy had introduced him to poaching as a way of putting meat on the table, just like he taught him to grow marijuana as a cash crop to supplement the family’s meager legitimate income. His daddy had worked on a soybean farm, but he was also the best old-school poacher around northeast Mississippi and northwest Alabama. He taught his son well.
As an adult, even though money wasn’t an issue for Moon Pie, he continued to hunt but upped the excitement by poaching. With more landowners spending large sums of money to grow big, healthy deer, Moon Pie’s poaching grounds became more specific and more of a challenge. He would target a specific individual’s place and make it personal. He watched outdoors shows and read hunting magazines, looking for the prime spots within driving distance. Fortified with cash from his criminal activities, Moon Pie took poaching to a whole new level.
Since moving back to the area, Moon Pie paid cash to rent a single-wide trailer close to the Columbus Air Force Base. It was cheap, since it was next to the busiest air base in the country, averaging 269 daily takeoffs and landings. The base ranked second only to Atlanta’s airport in terms of air traffic. The constant noise didn’t bother him. The trailer was a temporary accommodation that perfectly fit his needs.
Moon Pie also owned a customized thirty-six-foot houseboat he had named Mud Cat. He had used her for years to move drugs up and down the river. She had ample hidden storage and a huge diesel engine that could burn almost any mix of diesel fuel available and move her at surprising speeds. She looked a bit worn and was in dire need of a bottom job, but mechanically, she was in great shape. He rented her out between his runs, so the marine police and the Army Corps of Engineers lockmasters were used to seeing the old vessel all over the river system.
The Columbus Marina was home base for Mud Cat. She was making him a lot of money and didn’t appear to be attracting unwanted attention, which made him more brazen daily. The people supplying Moon Pie were pleased with his transportation and dependability. It might have taken a few more days to get the goods to their destination than the interstate system, but nobody ever questioned him. The state highway patrol was always a threat to make a random stop of a suspicious vehicle or driver, or for any type of traffic violation, real or fabricated. Since the suppliers were from the Gulf Coast, they were familiar with boats, and they appreciated Moon Pie’s resourcefulness in using one this far inland.
These suppliers now had a chance to move a sizable load of cocaine to a Tennessee distributor, who had just made a recent connection serving several larger cities in the Northeast, doubling demand, which was serious market growth for the coast suppliers.
In two days, Moon Pie would receive a down payment of $900,000 in cash to pass to his suppliers. He could sense that the money was about to really begin to roll in. With the cash-for-gold business, originally envisioned to be only a front, being surprisingly profitable, and this new distribution deal he was about to make, he would soon become wealthy. In a year, I’ll have enough cash to burn a wet mule, he thought.
After years of being a small-time criminal, struggling to survive, Moon Pie had finally positioned himself for success, but he still had one nagging issue—one unfinished piece of business he thought about every day: killing Jake Crosby. Moon Pie had followed the story on the Internet of what had happened at the Dummy Line that night. He still had unanswered questions, but he did know that Jake had killed Johnny Lee Grover and Reese Turner. Those guys were like family to him. He had made a vow to Reese on that fateful night, and he planned to keep that promise.
Over the years, Moon Pie had developed patience—a trait that had helped him successfully evade conviction for his multitude of crimes. He knew that if something immediately happened to Jake, he would be the principal suspect. He also knew that by lying low, with each passing week, everyone would return to their normal behavioral patterns. All he had to do was wait for the right time and place. He could be very, very patient. In fact, he enjoyed the thought of Jake’s anxiety at not knowing if or when he and his family were going to be terrorized again. And now that Morgan had seen him watching their house, they would all be on an emotional roller coaster that he alone controlled. Moon Pie smiled.
Moon Pie had seen Jake at his office and at home, and he had even let Jake walk within ten yards of him in the woods one Saturday morning while Jake was plowing a food plot. Jake had gotten off of his small tractor to take a leak, and Moon Pie had planned to kill him and run over him with the tractor to make it look like a farming accident; however, two other guys had driven up, and Jake had immediately left with them. The anticipation of what was to come for Jake was becoming more and more enjoyable to Moon Pie.
Over time, Moon Pie decided to make Jake’s death look like a hunting accident, since those were rarely investigated as rigorously as other deaths. He’d never be linked to it. And with Jake gone, there wouldn’t be anyone to protect his hot wife and little girl. Another sinister smile crossed Moon Pie’s lips.