The Rented Mule (11 page)

G
ates spent almost all of the day hiding in his office. He surfed the Net, reading different football prognosticators’ websites trying to gain a modicum of insight into the weekend games. He had locked the door twice, each time doing a liberal line of cocaine off his beautiful antique desk. He tried to think of ways to screw Cooper out of his ownership percentage. He even called an accountant buddy, but that wasn’t very helpful because Gates couldn’t completely explain exactly what he wanted to do without incriminating himself and the conversation just petered out.

Gates was depressed and disheartened. Both of his ex-wives had called earlier in the day looking for money. Fortunately, his house was paid for and the company made his BMW lease payment. He had the deed to the lake house in a folder on his desk, and he felt nauseated every time he looked at it, thinking about what he was about to do. The Lake Martin house was beautiful, nestled among giant pines on a rocky lot with stunning views. It had been his escape from the daily grind. Gates bought it after the agency enjoyed a
particularly successful year. He had been a master at draining every dollar he could out of the business. In fact, although the deed was in his name, the agency had paid for it. He was willing to entertain a few clients there occasionally, but only if they looked good in two-piece swimsuits.

He needed a big score. He was scheming about how to get his hands on a meaningful amount of cash. The Tower Agency was working for the state Republican Party in the upcoming election, which might present him an opportunity to become involved in the campaign finances as an avenue to embezzle funds. He also considered meeting rich women and sweet-talking them into loaning him money. But no immediate candidates came to mind. Finally, he toyed with the idea of robbing his parents’ home. He knew where they hid cash and jewelry. The more he thought about it, the more he liked that idea.

Outside his office, he could hear the sounds of everyone working. He stared at the numerous red lights on his phone blinking. He noticed that Cooper’s extension had been lit almost all day except for between 12:30 and 2:30 p.m., when he figured Cooper had taken a client to lunch. Cooper worked all the time and was clearly responsible for the business’s success. Gates would never admit that to Cooper… or anyone, but he knew it.

There was a time when they were best friends and watched each other’s backs. The two executives first met in college. They had joined the same fraternity and had helped each other struggle to obtain their degrees. Gates had access to money even back then and gambled consistently. Everyone thought it was funny. No one ever considered that he might have a problem. How could he? He was too young. He appeared to have everything: family connections, good clothes, new cars, and more often than not, the prettiest
girlfriends. The reality, however, was much different. Gates’s life was a house of cards.

Gates only cared about what could be done for him. If he needed something, he was someone’s best friend. Once he got what he wanted, he might not even acknowledge them the next day. The exception was Cooper Dixon, the skinny kid who never had anything that Gates wanted. For inexplicable reasons, they clicked—maybe because they were polar opposites. Whatever the reason, they stuck together and stayed together, even after college when they both moved to different states. Three years later, Gates brought them together again with the promise of owning their own advertising agency. Cooper ended up working sixteen-hour days to develop campaigns that caught the attention of the right people; consequently, the Tower Agency overcame its start-up financial burdens and prospered over the years. Gates pretended to contribute.

Now, Gates had sunk to an all-time low, and he needed something from Cooper, besides hard work. He needed his piece of the agency. Gates leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, trying to envision another solution. He began to despise himself for what he was considering.
Man, things had really changed,
he thought.

S
earching for an empty parking space, Jenny noticed Clarence’s SUV as she slowly rolled past Montgomery’s oldest eatery. She grabbed her notebook before she locked the doors and headed inside. She was wearing stylish jeans, a tight T-shirt, and big hoop earrings, with her hair pulled into a ponytail. She pushed open the door, walked past the magazines and down the narrow walkway to the back of Chris’s Hotdogs where her partners in crime sat already eating—they hadn’t waited for her. Clarence had two empty plates stacked up and was working on his third. Jesse Ray was working on his second when Jenny joined them.

“Hey guys. So how’s the food?”

“Whoa girl… you were right. Sorry, we couldn’t wait on ya. This place is righteous!” Clarence exclaimed as he took a bite out of a small hotdog.

With a thumbs-up gesture, Jesse Ray indicated his approval as he devoured another hotdog.

“Glad y’all like it. I’ll be right back. Gotta pee,” Jenny said, slinging her purse over her shoulder.

“That girl don’t eat enough to keep a bird alive,” Jesse Ray commented when she had walked off.

“She’s worried about her figure… you can’t fit in those kinda jeans if you eat a lot of these kinda meals,” Clarence explained, holding up a hotdog.

Jesse Ray looked around to ensure that no one could hear and asked, “What’s on your mind for tomorrow?” He then took a sip of sweet tea.

“Assuming everything goes smooth tonight, I’ll go check out where we’re gonna hide out with our new friend. Make sure it’s secure and defensible.”

“Whaddaya want me to do?”

“Create the evidence we’ll plant on the guy—nutten instantly obvious, but discoverable without too much effort.”

Jenny returned and smiled at Jesse Ray. “How was the drive up?”

“Good. All Dog talked about was eatin’,” Jesse Ray said with a burp. “Sorry. Do you know if our guy has a computer?”

“Yeah, for sure at work. The family’s got a computer, but I don’t know if he has personal e-mail. I spoke with the receptionist at his office, and she suggested I leave him a voice mail instead of an e-mail. Apparently, computers aren’t his thing.”

“Have you seen his office yet?”

“Not yet. I was plannin’ on going there tomorrow. You can see the building when we walk outside. It’s the tallest in town,” she responded and then continued in an exaggerated formal manner, “The Tower Agency is having a visit from the insurance carrier on the building—to check their smoke alarms, portable fire extinguishers, and fire suppression system. Thank you very much.” She smiled proudly.

Jesse Ray nodded his head, “That’s a great idea! It’ll get you in every room.”

“Order some supper, and tell us what you know,” Clarence commanded.

Jenny held up two fingers to a waitress, who nodded her understanding.

“Well, the wife’s pretty predictable. Give me two more days, and I’ll absolutely have her pegged. I’ll also have a strong recommendation of where to grab her. She doesn’t work and shops at only the most expensive stores. When not shoppin’, she’s drivin’ her teenage daughter all over town. And, the best I can tell, she and her husband are fairly cold to each other, and that’s probably puttin’ it mildly,” Jenny explained, and then stole a french fry from Jesse Ray’s plate. She continued, “Their house is very open, and the neighbors are everywhere, all the time. Folks are working in their yards or walkin’, walkin’ with dogs, and kids are on bikes or skateboards. No way we grab her there. And her husband works long hours during the week—leaves by six thirty and gets home late every night—and he finds things to do away from the house on the weekends, so he’s not a consideration.”

“What about her exercise habits? Does she, in fact, have a routine?” Clarence asked.

“Yeah. There’s a park a few miles from their house. She walks there almost every evening. Occasionally a girlfriend walks with her.”

“How big is she?” Jesse Ray asked.

“I don’t know… one thirty, maybe. She’s pretty.”

“Think she’ll show up here tonight?” Clarence asked sarcastically.

“I doubt it. But here’s what’s weird: she
loves
drive-thru fast-food.”

“Hmm. I might actually end up likin’ her then,” Clarence commented. “I want ya to go with us tonight to help keep an eye on the Client. We also need your intuition—your gut feelin’ about this dude.”

“When’s the meetin’?”

“At ten, at a car lot on the east side of town.”

“Cool. I’m in. Pass the ketchup, please.”

C
larence and Jesse Ray followed Jenny to the Eastern Bypass where all the car lots existed. When Clarence suggested it to the Client, he didn’t know the specific car dealership; he just knew that all cities the size of Montgomery had acres of car dealerships strung together by flashing lights, giant inflatable gorillas, and sales banners. A wide-open car lot was a relatively safe meeting place. It was difficult to ambush someone because by simply dropping to the ground, you could see the feet or legs of anyone hiding. There was rarely any hassle about being on a car lot at night as dealers welcomed after-hours shoppers since, statistically, most became actual buyers. The key to selecting the ideal lot was to find a midsized lot with no security cameras, which was much tougher today than just a few years ago. Since overall video camera quality had improved drastically and the prices had fallen, security camera systems had effectually eliminated the need for a human on-site. A motion sensor triggered an e-mail to the lot owner or manager, who then
with a few clicks or screen touches looked at a live feed on his computer or smartphone and called 911, if necessary.

Jenny’s instructions were to approach from the south side and pretend that she was car shopping. Jesse Ray and Clarence would make contact while she observed the Client’s behavior from a distance. She would also be on the lookout for police or a security guard.

Jesse Ray brought with him all his electronic gadgets and a very prophetic distrust of outsiders. He always covered the bases, keeping Clarence safe from setups, wiretaps, and eavesdropping. He took his job seriously and was very good at it.

“He’s about two miles out, Dog, headed this way,” Jesse Ray noted as he watched his laptop screen. “I tell ya, that new cell phone tracker is state of the art.”

“J. J., you in position?” Clarence asked Jenny over the radio, not wanting to use actual names on unsecured radios.

“Yep. See him?” she responded from the front seat of her car.

“Not yet, but he’s gettin’ close—go ahead and start lookin’ at cars. We’ll alert you when he arrives.”

“Ten-four. I’ve already got my eye on a used Mustang.”

Clarence took a deep breath and glanced at his watch. 9:55 p.m. The Client was on time. Clarence and Jesse Ray saw a BMW pull into the lot. “That’s him, J. J.” Jesse Ray whispered into the radio headset.

“Looks nervous,” Clarence commented, watching him through binoculars. “He definitely has a bulge in his right front pocket.”

“So do I,” Jesse Ray commented.

“Yeah, but his prolly ain’t electronic gadgets. I sure hope it’s our money and that he’s not packin’ a piece again. I’d
hate to hafta make good on my promise to stick it up his ass,” Clarence said.

Both Jenny Johnson and Jesse Ray chuckled quietly over the radio.

“If he’s got heat on him or a wire… or anything, I’ll find it, Dog,” Jesse Ray stated confidently.

“I’m countin’ on it.” Clarence opened his door and headed toward the Client.

Jesse Ray followed with his high-tech gadgetry. He knew Clarence would be using ghetto lingo and that he should play along. Clarence thought it made him more intimidating.

Clarence casually checked out the trucks as he made his way toward the nervous man, all the while studying the Client. The man saw Clarence and began to work his way toward him. For cover, Clarence stopped beside a van. Jesse Ray walked from behind Clarence straight toward the Client, holding out the wand.

Clarence stated, “Yo, dude, I’m allergic to certain insects. My man here’s gonna check you for bugs. Cool?”

“Uh… sure.” The Client held out his arms, away from his waist.

Jesse Ray motioned, “Over here, behind the van.”

Jesse Ray waved his wand all over the Client’s body while Clarence watched carefully, tightly gripping the pistol inside his jacket pocket. He realized his palms were sweating.

Jesse Ray patted the bulge in the Client’s pocket, asking curtly, “What’s that?”

“That’s your money, a map, and some more information,” the Client calmly answered.

“And that?”

“That’s a Coke bottle.”

“He’s clean, Dog.”

“Is that what this is about… you think I’m a cop?” The Client laughed. “I was thinkin’ the same thing about y’all.”

“Don’t insult me. Show me the cash.”

The Client pulled a bundle of bills from his pocket and tossed it to Clarence, who with his thumb flipped though the bills. He pulled out a random one and began closely inspecting it. He then touched it with a counterfeit detector pen.

The Client said, “That’s fifteen grand. So, now, with that and what I already gave you, you’ve got half your fee. You’ll get the other twenty-five when the job’s done.”

“Plus expenses,” Clarence shot back, wagging the envelope.

The Client nodded his agreement, saying, “Plus expenses.”

Clarence again peeked inside the envelope and again took out one of the hundred dollar bills and examined it. Observing that the Client wasn’t bothered by his repeated checking of the bills, Clarence was finally satisfied and stuffed the envelope into his pocket, thinking,
Shit! I wish I’d charged this little turd more
. For Clarence, setting fees was one of the toughest aspects of this business.

“Are you still plannin’ to do it as soon as possible?” the Client asked excitedly.

“Yeah, but don’t press me!”

“I’m sorry. I just wanna—”

“Look, we got thangs to do, and I gotta check out this place you got for us to use. How long do we keep her? If it’s more than ten days, my fee doubles.”

“Okay. But I can’t tell you the exact day she’ll be released. After this douche bag has been splashed all over the news and his reputation ruined, we’ll talk. We’ll dump her—alive—somewhere remote, and she’s gotta believe that her husband’s responsible for all of it. Here’s more of what I know about
him, some of his habits, stuff like that, so you can drop little clues to her.”