The Rented Mule (20 page)

As Kelly walked to her car, her anger with Cooper grew to epic proportions. She vowed to make him pay. When she got into the car, she slung her purchase into the backseat, cranked the engine, and sat there fuming. After several minutes of a profanity-laced, stream-of-consciousness rant about Cooper, she began to focus again. The first thing that she saw was the car salesman’s business card, and a smile started to form at the corners of her mouth. She dialed the number and asked for the salesman.

With the calm that comes from great clarity, Kelly casually said, “Hey, Robert, this is Kelly Dixon. Yep, that’s me—lookin’ at the silver Suburban. I want it. Yep, that’s right. This afternoon, if possible. Can you do that? Please check with your sales manager—he and my husband are good friends. All you gotta do is tell him that Cooper Dixon’s wife wants that vehicle and that Cooper will come down Monday for y’all to work out the details.”

Kelly listened patiently as the excited salesman jotted down all the pertinent information, including her cell phone number.
This’ll teach him,
she thought.

“Okay, great! Just give me a call when you have it ready, and I’ll bring you my car for the trade-in.” Kelly smiled as she started her Volvo. “Thank you. Thank you so much. You have been very helpful. I’ll be sure to tell your boss.”

Kelly’s spirits were lifted in less than two minutes. Revenge was so sweet, and to put the proverbial icing on the cake while she waited for her new SUV, she took a left out of the mall parking lot, heading to a high-end home
furnishings store where she had a charge account. Besides a bit more shopping and picking up her new vehicle, the only thing left on her day’s itinerary was a walk in the park with her sister at eight.
I can’t wait to show off my new SUV… and to tell her another story of Cooper being a total ass
.

S
moke from hundreds, if not thousands, of barbecue grills hung in the afternoon air around Jordan-Hare Stadium, creating a blue-gray haze. Jenny had never seen so many people so anxious and excited about anything, particularly a football game. Now she appreciated Gates’s remark yesterday about why the fans and stadium regularly make published lists of Best Game Day Atmosphere. It was a zoo.

Jenny might have enjoyed the festivities were it not for having to endure Gates’s nonstop, totally lame jokes and stories. She took careful mental notes of everyone in and around the Tower Agency’s tent, trying to understand his or her particular role in this drama. It didn’t take her too long to focus on Brooke. They talked more or less privately for almost an hour until she couldn’t avoid dealing with Gates any longer.

Gates’s hands had been all over her. She almost slapped him once, but she decided to suffer through it. He had been drinking for hours and was quite intoxicated. From the staring and snickering of the male guests, she knew Gates had
made up stories—bragging—about her to them. That was clearly his style. Throughout the entire ordeal, she had gathered a few facts but nothing substantive. Twice she excused herself to call Clarence.
At least everything was on track there
, she thought.

Jenny watched Gates finish another story, laugh too hard at his perceived wit, and then leave the huddle of men to go refill his drink. She glided to his side, “Y’all really know how to throw a party.”

“It’s always fun, especially when we play another SEC team,” Gates replied, glancing down at his cell phone to check scores. “Damn it!”

“Won anything yet?”

“I’m one for three… so far,” he answered, jamming the phone into his pants pocket.

“This is just sooo exciting. Are your buyers here?” she whispered.

“I don’t think so. Not yet. I haven’t seen ’em,” Gates slurred, spilling his drink on his shoes. “Damn it.”

Jenny was disappointed but didn’t show it. She decided it was a good time to wake him up. “So, how long have Brooke and Cooper been havin’ a fling?”

“What!?”

“Shh. Don’t say anything.” Jenny placed a finger to his lips.

“Cooper? Nah. Ya think?” Gates asked with a smirk. “No… not Cooper; ’sides his wife would gut him, and he knows it.”

“Well, sumthin’s goin’ on because she and I are bein’ watched. Don’t turn to look. There’s a man three tents down that hasn’t stopped watchin’ Brooke and me. He might be a cop, but I doubt it. His shoes aren’t right. They’re too nice. My guess is he’s a private investigator.”

Ignoring Jenny’s request, Gates wobbled as he turned to look for the man. Turning back to face Jenny, he said, “You’re crazy. Y’all two are the hottest women round here… hell, probably in the whole stadium area. He’s just enjoyin’ the view.”

“I know when I’m being watched and when someone’s just checkin’ me out,” she replied with raised eyebrows and folded arms.

Suddenly, Gates got a serious look on his face. “Okay, I’ll tell you a secret.”

Jenny leaned forward in anticipation.

Gates, holding his drink in his left hand, slowly moved his right outstretched arm and hand, palm up, in a broad sweeping motion, indicating everything in view, whispered, “Just so you know… every man here… no exceptions… wishes that they were me.” Gates winked, and then after a brief moment’s pause, continued, “Now… that’s not
that
unusual… but ’cause you’re so damn fine, you clearly up my game!”

Gates then reached over and gave Jenny’s butt a squeeze. She whirled around, grabbed him by the shirt collar, pulled him close and hissed, “Look, you obnoxious asshole, in the
real world
, being a drunk ain’t like Otis on the
Andy Griffith Show
. You’re not cute or endearing. You’re a piece of shit. And if you ever touch me again, I’ll hurt you in ways you can’t possibly comprehend. Am I clear?”

All that Gates could do was nod, with wide, unblinking eyes.

A few hours later, while eating a piece of grilled deer sausage, Brooke’s cell phone vibrated in her pocket, indicating the
arrival of a text message. When she read Cooper’s note saying he wasn’t coming to the game, she was crushed. She quickly typed a courteous but regretful reply and then returned the phone to her pocket. But as she gathered her purse to leave the tent, she became furious. For several days she had been excited about spending time with Cooper, and now she was near tears and livid. She was pissed off at Cooper and disappointed at the missed opportunity to further put him under her spell. Eighty-nine thousand crazed football fans were beginning to make their way into the stadium, anticipating victory. As she started walking away from the game, she began feeling a painful loss.

Jenny’s plan had been to furtively slip away at halftime if she didn’t get a significant amount of actionable information. The only thing of value so far was not anything factual but a strong intuitive sense that Brooke was somehow part of the conspiracy. When she overheard Brooke explaining to Gates that Cooper wasn’t going to make it for the game, she could see the disappointment in Brooke’s eyes and body language—Brooke’s facial expression later turning to one of scorn spoke volumes.
Well then
, Jenny thought,
looks like little Miss Brooke is far more complex than I gave her credit for.

Jenny noticed Gates start telling another joke as Brooke was hurriedly walking away, never saying good-bye to anyone. She also observed that the mystery man from three tents south had vanished. Jenny knew that this was her cue to get out of there.

D
arkness was approaching as Clarence, Jesse Ray, and Maynard arrived at Vaughn Road Park, which was basically deserted, except for an older lady walking her dog on a leash. The poor pooch didn’t look like it would be able to make another lap around the mile-long path. The only vehicle in the parking area was a dark blue Honda minivan, presumably owned by the dog-walking woman.

Clarence really liked the park’s setup for this job. The trees offered adequate concealment, and I-85 was only about a half mile away. His plan to grab the Target and then hop on the interstate to quickly and easily leave the area made tactical sense.

Jesse Ray helped fit Clarence and Maynard with their radio earpieces and microphones. Clarence poked fun at Jesse Ray and pretended to flirt with him. Jesse Ray did his best to ignore him and concentrate on the tasks at hand.

“Okay, boys and girls, let’s do radio checks,” Clarence said not quite transitioning into the seriousness of the mission.

Jesse Ray said, “Clarence’s radio name will be Big Dog; I’ll be Chase Dog; and Maynard you can be—”

“Hound Dog!” Clarence interrupted.

“I like that. That’s fittin’. You know, Larry’s been married seven times,” Maynard chimed in, pleased with his radio name.

Jesse Ray said, “Whatever.” Then into his headset, he said, “Chase Dog to Big Dog, you copy?”

“Copy that.” Clarence replied into his headset.

“Chase Dog to Hound Dog, you copy?”

Maynard said, “Yep, I can hear ya.”

“Good. Is the volume okay?” Jesse Ray asked and watched both men nod their heads. “Could you hear each other?”

Both men said, “Yes,” into their headsets and nodded again when they heard each other’s voices.

“Okay. No real names, and be careful what you say. This is not a secure system. You never know who’s listenin’. The system’s voice-activated, so just talk low and keep everybody informed. Big Dog, here’s a night-vision monocular in case you need it. Pleeezze don’t leave it behind. It’s expensive. Let’s take off these radios for now—we don’t wanna be broadcasting yet.”

All of the men removed their headsets for the moment.

Maynard started opening the wrapper of a Crest whitening strip and asked, “What will we call our girl?” He pointed to the photos that Jenny had given them.

“We’ve been callin’ her
friend
or Target, but tonight we’re gonna call her the Rabbit,” Jesse Ray replied, proud of his wit.

Clarence reached around into the backseat and grabbed a small black bag filled with assorted medical supplies, including
premeasured syringes of Lorazepam to keep Rabbit knocked out until they were completely secure in the hideout. And if she got out of control, he would give her an IV cocktail of Lorazepam, Lidocaine, and Milk of Amnesia.

“Big Dog, how fast does chloroform work?” Jesse Ray asked, fingering a quart-sized Ziploc that contained a shop rag soaking in it.

“Almost immediate since she’ll be takin’ deep breaths,” Clarence replied after he stowed the night-vision gear inside his black gear bag. “You sure you can handle grabbin’ her?”

“Don’t worry about me,” Jesse Ray replied confidently.

“You sure don’t look like it,” Clarence said with a chuckle while looking at Jesse Ray’s more than ample bosom. “Okay, listen up. Don’t let her scream, and after she’s out, you gotta be careful that she doesn’t fall and hit her head. I don’t want her to get hurt. We can’t be goin’ to the hospital.”

“I know, I know.”

“I’ll be just a few yards from you, ready to carry her. Hound Dog will meet us with the truck. You’ll need to make sure the back doors are open. This whole thing should take less than two minutes from start to finish. Perfect timing’s required,” Clarence explained, looking at each of them in the eyes. They were nodding their heads. He continued, “We have a plan, and all we gotta do is work it and to communicate. If anybody gets close and sees us, we abort, and that’s okay. Am I clear? Abortin’ the job is better than gettin’ busted. We can regroup and reload later.”

“Rabbit should be here in thirty minutes,” Jesse Ray announced after checking his watch.

“All right, let’s get into position. Remember, she drives a red Volvo,” Clarence said.

Deadly serious, he turned to face Maynard in the backseat. “Hound Dog, if you leave us, I’ll hunt you down and hang you with those suspenders.”

“Ten-fo. Stay tuned. We’ve gotta
great
show tonight!” Maynard replied, upbeat and in his best Larry King voice. He was thrilled to be a part of the team.

M
aynard was sitting patiently when a silver Suburban pulled in a few parking spaces away. Tapping a tune on the steering wheel, he paid little attention to the vehicle. He considered for a moment that they didn’t need any witness to what was about to happen, but he didn’t know what to do as he was specifically instructed not to work off script. He just sucked harder on a fresh whitening strip, which soothed him somewhat.

Kelly’s plan to aggravate Cooper was executed to perfection. She left her car at the Chevrolet dealership, promising faithfully that Cooper would be down first thing Monday morning to sign all the papers. She loved her brand-new vehicle. The new car smell was intoxicating, but the smooth, tight leather seats made her back sweat until she finally figured out how to adjust the thermostat. On the way she had tried unsuccessfully to reach her sister, realizing that she would be looking for her Volvo. Kelly was certain that Cooper would blow a gasket when he arrived home tomorrow and saw the
$56,000 vehicle parked in the driveway.
Thank goodness for connections.
She chuckled as she slid out of the vehicle.

“Big Dog to Hound Dog, you see anything?” Clarence asked.