chapter 57
IT HAD BEEN a while since Tam Nguyen had been behind bars, and he was livid. Incarceration was something he couldn’t handle. He never could appreciate that he would eventually get out. From the moment he was arrested, he started looking for an opportunity to escape. He physically submitted to the overwhelming show of authority, but not mentally. Tam, a caged animal, was preparing to attack, waiting for any opportunity.
The task force officers knew Tam’s reputation and had seen what he was capable of doing. They locked him down as quickly as possible. The Tupelo police had all heard the stories about Tam, but as they peered through protective glass and heavy bars at the small man, they wondered if he was as capable and cruel a criminal as they had been led to believe. In his striped jumpsuit, he looked like a small, tanned shrimper from the Gulf Coast—no different from what they had seen on family vacations. He didn’t fit their idea of the stereotypical drug kingpin.
Alexa had not been the primary target. She was more or less an unknowing victim of the sting. Her love of the band had led her and Tam straight into the trap. They would have let her walk except for her temper. When she saw Tam being arrested, she bitch-slapped the female undercover officer who had initially tried to restrain her. An hour later, the handprint was still visible on the face of the police chief’s only daughter. As Alexa was introduced to the most heinous outfit of her life, she recognized clearly that her lavish lifestyle was in jeopardy.
Tam was arrested on current and outstanding warrants relating to several drug charges and other crimes, including the deaths of three rival dealers found buried up to their heads on the beach after the tide had receded. The officers vigilantly and thoroughly processed his booking paperwork and fingerprinting. He was then placed in an initial holding cell with four others—two black guys, one of whom had robbed a convenience store and one who had stolen a new car off the dealer’s lot; a skinny white meth head who had stolen his father’s hunting rifles to buy prescription cough syrup; and another Asian, about Tam’s same height and build, who had been caught stealing copper from a construction site.
Before the steel door shut, Tam began assessing everyone for potential usefulness under the circumstances. He slowly made his way to the far corner, spread his legs a bit, and squatted down on his heels, surveying the room for weaknesses, both human and structural.