Moon Pie had never snatched anyone before. He preferred the word snatching to kidnapping. Kidnapping sounded so federal. But he was more than willing to try it. Moon Pie was thorough, which greatly aided his criminal career. He took the hands-on education he had received growing up on a soybean farm to become the most successful marijuana grower in northeastern Mississippi. He was the first to apply modern fertilization techniques and to control the pH levels of his soil. He had installed grow lights with a drip irrigation system in two giant chicken houses, boasting yields to twice those of his competitors. Moon Pie struggled with managing the expenses, however, and consequently always found himself a little short. No matter how much money he made, Sheree, his girlfriend of six years, always seemed to spend a little more. She was extremely high maintenance.
After locating the master bedroom, he worked up a plan. The unknown was how many children were in the house. He eased up the porch stairs and studied the locks. One dead bolt. I’ll just kick it in, he thought as he set down his bag of tricks. Then it occurred to him that he could simply knock the glass out with a hammer, reach in, and turn the lock. He put a spider web of camo duct tape on the glass to prevent it from shattering, then carefully broke the glass. It always surprised him how little noise it made.
She was awakened by a sound she couldn’t place. She wasn’t even certain that she had really heard anything. She lay very still listening, warm and comfortable. She thought she heard a board creak, but the old house was full of sounds. Then the heater turned on, drowning out any odd noises. She relaxed.
Moon Pie stepped inside and walked quickly and quietly down the hallway to the master bedroom. Bursting through the door, he took her by surprise. Just as she started to scream, Moon Pie’s hand slammed over her mouth. He held her down on the bed and pointed his .40 Glock right between her eyes, the night-light from the bathroom illuminating the pistol. He climbed on top of her and straddled her. Then he lowered his face to within inches of hers, smelling her as he moved the pistol to the side of her head, being certain she could feel the cold steel.
“Don’t say a word,” he whispered forcefully. “Is there anyone else is in the house?” he asked, knowing he couldn’t believe her.
Her eyes were wide with terror. Moon Pie was feeding off her fear. She shook her head. “No!”
“Your husband killed somebody important to me, and now you have to pay!” he said in an intense whisper. “That’s how it works.”
He saw confusion and fear in her eyes. She violently shook her head and tried to speak, but he wouldn’t let her. He took duct tape with one hand, stretched it, and tore it with his teeth. He laid a strip over her mouth as he moved his hand away. She struggled to loosen his grip. He forced her arms behind her and began taping her wrists. She fought hard. He ran another strip all the way around her head covering her mouth. She was trying desperately to talk. He then taped her ankles. She was completely immobilized. When he was sure her nostrils were clear, he stood, catching his breath.
She was wearing panties and a tank top. Moon Pie admired her athletic body. Still breathing heavily, he slowly looked around and decided to check out the rest of the house. He searched every room and didn’t find another person. The kids must be spendin’ the night somewhere. He went back downstairs to the master bedroom.
“Let’s go for a ride,” he said, picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder like a sack of feed. He walked to the front door, glass crunching under his feet. He shut the front door and walked straight down the driveway to his vehicle. She wasn’t very heavy-a buck thirty, maybe. He’d adjusted the interior lights so they didn’t come on and betray his presence. He could tell she was about to freak out. She was terrified. He was in charge. He could feel the power, and it aroused him.
The rear seat of the Tahoe was down, so when he threw her in the back, there was plenty of room. Moon Pie climbed on top of her, grinding himself into her. Her squirming only excited him more.
“We’re gonna have us a little party,” he whispered in her ear, then licked the tears streaming down her cheek. “But not here. I’ve got somethin’ special planned for yo fine self.” He lifted her shirt and licked her stomach. He got off her, closed the door, and then hopped into the driver’s seat. Pulling off his surgical gloves, he cranked up and drove off. He lit a Marlboro, taking a good long drag. Blowing the smoke out, he picked up the radiophone and hit Send.
Beep-beep. “Yo dog.”
Beep-beep. “Talk to me.”
Beep-beep. “Got her and she’s a gem. One fine piece of ass!”
Beep-beep. “Can you take her to Johnny Lee’s trailer?”
Beep-beep. “Sure. I’ll be there in about two hours. I gotta drive slow so I don’t get pulled over.”
Beep-beep. “The key’s on the ledge over the door. Call me when you get there.”
Beep-beep. “You got the guy yet?”
Beep-beep. “No, but we’re close.”
Moon Pie hung up and dialed his girlfriend as he rubbed his crotch. The line was busy. She was on the Net. That pissed him off. She’s in a chat room in the middle of the night with a bunch of freaks, he thought. She’d only surf the Net when he was gone. It drove him crazy. That’s it! I’m gettin’ rid of her.
No matter how many Walkie Talkies he drank sitting in the truck, Tiny couldn’t stop thinking how he’d gotten into this mess. A while back, his first cousin had promised him a job at the Indian casino. He could earn an honest living. Sure, he’d be a maintenance man, but it would be a new start and he could live with his cousin until he got settled. His cousin had a double-wide in a huge trailer park called Sunshine Village in Montgomery. Tiny liked the name. Why ain’t I gone already?
Johnny Lee was the reason. He had instilled a sense of worth in Tiny when the societal norms dictated the contrary. Johnny Lee convinced him that any day they were going to hit it big. Even criminals dream.
Tiny never thought twice about stealing stuff or selling illegal whiskey, but killing folks wasn’t his style. And he knew Sweat was going to rape that girl. That was bothering him more than killing Johnny Lee’s shooter. Tiny also knew that he was going to do what Reese asked of him, but he’d made up his mind that he wasn’t going to let Sweat hurt the girl. He crushed the beer can and threw it into the pile on the floorboard of the truck.
“After tonight, I’m movin’ to Montgomery and startin’ over,” he said aloud as he turned the truck around in the road and backed it up next to the Jeep, parking so close no one could have gotten out of his passenger’s side door. Tiny climbed out without taking anything and walked to the back of the truck. Like so many good ol’ boys, he had a four-wheeler in the back. But unlike most, he used his to haul moonshine. He unloaded it and left it idling. With the way the two vehicles were parked, the gateposts, and the big trees next to the road, it was impossible for any vehicle to pass. He had Johnny Lee’s killer trapped. Reese would be pleased.
“What the hell am I doin’?” he said, looking around. He closed his eyes hard. Tiny climbed on the Polaris 500, shifted into forward, and gave it some gas. He switched the lights on low beam and started looking for footprints.