chapter 80
SINCE MOON PIE wasn’t arrested but was being held for questioning about Tam and other things, he demanded and was granted telephone access. He used it to contact Levi. In code, he carefully instructed Levi to first call the Tennessee Mexicans and plead for time to get him out of jail and then to sort out the other issue. Moon Pie almost retracted that direction, realizing that the safest place for him (due to the pissed-off Mexicans) was locked up. He thought better of it and then told Levi to alert Tam’s crew and to make sure no one called Moon Pie’s cell phone while the police had it. Finally, Levi was to contact their lawyer cousin.
The task force guys and the local police grilled Moon Pie relentlessly until everybody was exhausted. On the rare occasion when Moon Pie answered their questions, he didn’t say anything important or incriminating. When they returned him to the holding cell, he spent the rest of his time there avoiding eye contact with his cellmates, particularly the one Mexican.
On Monday at 10:00 a.m., when the jailer came to let him out, Moon Pie really didn’t want to leave. But he knew that the longer he stayed in jail, the better chance they had of digging up something that could actually stick. His instincts were telling him to run—to put as much distance as he could between himself and the police, Tam, and the Mexicans.
Moon Pie’s cousin dropped him at the Gold Mine, and by ten thirty, he was at his desk, trying to come up with a plan. His cash was gone, Tam’s cash was gone, and, to add insult to injury, the rifle he loved the most was gone too. His world was a disaster, and he knew that he had only a matter of hours, if not minutes, before the Mexicans arrived. Moon Pie had entered the Gold Mine though the back door. He didn’t want any customers. At the moment, he only wanted Levi to show up with a fresh change of clothes. He absentmindedly picked up the Copenhagen can as he thought about how quickly his life had gone to shit. The shiny silver lid glinted off the light from his desk lamp. As he turned it, the M became a W and then became an M again.
“Them sons of bitches,” he spat angrily. “Damn wetbacks,” he said aloud as he thought about how the Tennessee Mexicans had ripped him off. He was trying to figure out how they had learned the safe’s combination when his cell phone rang. He recognized the number as his Alabama taxidermist.
“What up?” Moon Pie answered, skipping all pleasantries.
“How many good deer ya killed?” the criminal taxidermist asked as he watched an intern clean the paint overspray from a freshly mounted turkey’s eyes.
“Would you believe that I ain’t even been but twice since gun season opened?” he said, happy to talk about something other than the stolen money. “And on one of those hunts I had a landowner all over my ass.”
“You gotta get with it, man. Early season, you’re usually good for five or six. I got orders for about twenty heads I need to get filled.”
“I’ll get plenty; you know I always do. I got you a couple things you’ll like, and I got a nice buck in full velvet I took on Labor Day weekend when everybody was shootin’ doves and had the game wardens all tied up. You’ll love him. Lately, though, I’ve just had too much shit goin’ on around here. Really bad shit, man.”
“You always do.”
“I know, man, but this time it’s really heavy-duty.” Moon Pie suddenly had an idea. “In fact, I need a place to crash for a while. Can I stay at your place? Just till things cool down some.”
“Yeah, sure, come on and bring that deer. We can make some money while you’re here, night huntin’.”
“Thanks, dude. I can always count on you. I’ll see you in a day or two,” Moon Pie replied, thinking it might be more trouble than it was worth to take his horses.
“Hang on. I called for a reason.”
“What was it?”
“Don’t you know where there are some bald eagles?”
“Yeah. I know several.”
“I need one. A collector called me.”
“Finding one ain’t that hard. I know right where a pair is, and they are close to town. But gettin’ caught with one is a whole new world of federal shit.”
“I understand. I need a mature male, big-ass whitehead.”
“So your customer wants what no one’s got. We’re talkin’ serious risk here and big money.”
“You’re the best, aren’t you? Deliver it in good shape and I’ll split the money with you. Fifty-fifty.”
Moon Pie was desperate for cash. “Okay. I’ll see what I can do. I’ll really have my ass hanging out big-time on this one.”