chapter 21
THE ANTIQUE GANG assembled in the library of the Henry Clay Retirement Community. It was dark outside, unseasonably cold, and misting rain. Most of the residents were already in their rooms for the night, so the group had the area to themselves. Two Pizza Inn boxes sat in front of them. Everyone grazed at their leisure, happy that Walter now fed them at every meeting.
Walter sat nervously bouncing his right leg as he made notes on a legal pad. He was visibly anxious. Kroger’s home-office security team had interviewed him earlier in the day. They were pushing hard for answers. The team had reviewed every frame of the surveillance tape and had a lot of questions for him. It had been an intense meeting. They had homed in on him faster than he expected, but it was obvious they didn’t have enough facts to have him arrested. Walter knew it wasn’t over. They had made that obvious.
Bailey had been invited to join the group after her grandmother Lucille’s casual mention of the foundation as a response to Bailey’s comment to her about the safe full of cash at the Gold Mine. Knowing two of the three pairs of numbers was the tipping point for Walter’s acceptance.
Bailey excitedly explained to the group, “My boss will be out of town in two days, and that might make the robbery safer.”
Walter and company listened intently, and their eyes darted nervously as they considered what she was saying.
“He’s always armed to the teeth, and even on the two times a year when he goes to church with his momma, he carries two pistols. Nobody else in the store will be armed, though,” she finished, as if that should be the deciding factor.
“Easter and Mother’s Day?” Bernard asked, already knowing.
“Yes, sir.”
“Bailey, we aren’t going to bust in there and stick the place up like a bank robbery,” Walter explained.
Bailey looked puzzled, but the other members of the group looked relieved.
“Somebody could get hurt, and frankly I doubt that our hearts could take the stress.”
“I just assumed…that’s the way—”
“No. We’re going to break in after-hours and steal the contents of the safe,” Walter explained, cutting her off. The gang members smiled. Burglary sat better with them than armed robbery.
“But the place has an alarm system that Moon Pie arms every night,” Bailey said, concerned.
“We’ll need to know specifics about it, but when I looked around a few days ago, I didn’t see any motion sensors in the main room.”
“The windows and doors are wired for sure. I’ve heard the alarm go off by accident; it’s really loud. He sets it sometimes when we’re counting money. He’s paranoid.”
“He couldn’t move around if it had motion detectors, unless he has a high-tech system that can be set to different modes and zones.”
“It looks pretty basic to me, but I don’t really know,” Bailey said.
“I think I have a solution for the alarm, but we still gotta get in the safe. I’ve been researching it. It takes a six-digit security code. If you don’t get it in three or four tries, it shuts down for, like, thirty minutes,” Walter explained as he placed on the table the printed camera-phone pictures of Moon Pie’s office, alarm keypad, and safe. “Bailey took these. They’ve been extremely helpful.”
Bailey smiled. It had been a long time since anyone other than her grandmother had praised her, and everyone could sense her appreciation.
Walter said, “Okay, gang—here’s my idea.”
Everyone inched a bit closer as their heart rates escalated. They all felt so incredibly alive. The collective energy was palpable. Tomorrow, when and if their sons and daughters called to check on them, casually asking, “What’s new? Anything exciting going on?” each would smile and say, “Nothin’. Not much.” In fact, however, they all would have spent hours the evening before planning a burglary expected to net them $300,000, and it was, in fact, their second major crime within a month.
Walter continued, “Tomorrow I’ll order several balloons to be delivered to Bailey at work. Bailey, you’ll need to place them near a vent—in the office would be great—and then forget them when you leave work. We’ll find out pretty quickly if the place has motion sensors when everyone’s gone for the day and the heater turns on. Bernard, get two flat, very thin magnets, and paint one white and one off-white. And get a bottle of Krazy Glue. Then the day before we break in, Bailey will glue the correct-colored magnet over the magnetic sensor in the top of the doorframe. It looks like a little black dot. That should trick the system into thinking the door’s closed when they set it, and it won’t go off when we open it.”
“How do we do that?” Sebastian asked.
“Bailey’s gotta get us a copy of the key—somehow. Think of something.”
“Yes sir.”
“What about the rest of the safe combination?” Lucille questioned.
“I’m working on it. People generally use passwords and numbers that involve birthdays, hobbies, interests, important dates, and things they like. The combinations are endless, and I’m trying to nail down the obvious first. We know he is a football fan and more specifically a Manning fan. He has framed pictures of Eli, Archie, and Peyton displayed in his office.”
Bailey nodded her head excitedly. “He talks about ’em all the time, especially Peyton, and if either Eli or Peyton’s playin’ on TV, he’s watching.”
“I’m betting the last number in the code is ten, sixteen, or eighteen.”
“Their jersey numbers?” Bernard offered.
“You betcha,” Walter said in his nasal Minnesotan accent.
“There’s at least six combinations of those numbers, if Bailey’s numbers don’t work. And we don’t know how often he changes the combination. Bailey’s numbers could be good today but not tomorrow,” Bernard stated after he quickly computed the possibilities.
“True, so we’ll need to get his birthday too,” Walter said to Bailey, who nodded her understanding.
“He’s a big hunter too. But I don’t know what numbers work with huntin’,” Bernard noted. He had studied the photos Bailey had secretly taken of everything in Moon Pie’s office and the store, and of his truck tag.
“Bailey, while he’s gone out of town, I’ll give you some number sequences to try. If you can start trying the combinations, it would be helpful. I’ll print them out so you can mark them off. I’m hoping it’s something simple. Without the combination, we’re dead in the water.”
“I’ll do it,” Bailey responded positively.
“Good girl. That way if one of those doesn’t work, Lucille and Sebastian can work on another set of combinations. Birthdays, important dates, phone-number prefixes.”
“I may can trick his half brother, Levi, into telling me…he’s kinda sweet on me,” Bailey said.
“He’s a cutie pie,” Lucille instantly replied, and Bailey blushed, although no one noticed except Lucille.
“No, I don’t like that idea. He’ll be suspicious after the money vanishes. You don’t need anything pointin’ back at you,” Walter explained.
“Let’s just get a blowtorch and cut it open,” Sebastian suggested excitedly.
“Not there. That would set off the smoke alarm,” Walter responded quickly. He didn’t want Sebastian losing focus at the thought of getting to break out the power tools.
Sensing what was going on, Lucille jumped in excitedly to change the subject. “When do you think we’ll try?”
“This Saturday night might be good. It’s opening weekend of deer season, and any hunter worth his salt will be at his camp, or at the very least going to bed early. It’s a tradition that’s played out from here to Minnesota, and I’m willing to bet Mr. Daniels will be somewhere other than at work, so we’ll have time to do what we need to do.”
“That’s pretty soon,” Bernard said, as if he had plans for Saturday night.
“We ain’t gettin’ any younger,” Walter shot back.
“That’s true,” Bernard responded, nodding his head.
“Besides, what else were you doing Saturday night?”
“Nothing—except now, I guess I’m committin’ a felony.”
“We’re all in, then,” Lucille said emphatically, with a big smile.