Chapter 6
It was eight the next morning.
That refrigerator cardboard box that was Joey’s new home was still in the woods.
The box moved. Joey woke up inside it, looked around and he hoped this was just all a dream. Reality sunk in when he realized he was still in deep yogurt.
He got out.
He stood up, yawned, stretched, and looked around the woods. He got depressed while he sat down on the ground. What the hell am I going to do? He thought to himself. Then his eyes widened with an idea. He removed his iPhone and made a call.
Back at Consolidated Software Company, some employees were busy at work while others gossiped about last night’s news report about Joey.
Many fellow coworkers disbelieved Joey would do such a crime while others stated you just never know what people would be capable of doing.
George sipped on his coffee while he worked on a video game design at his computer. His desk phone rang. He picked up the receiver.
“Zahn,” George answered. “George, it’s Joey,” he said from the phone.
George stood up and looked over his cubicle walls to make sure nobody was close by. He sat back down and discreetly talked into his phone.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he scolded Joey.
“I didn’t do it! It’s all a huge misunderstanding! I need to talk to Sandy. She can clear things up,” Joey cried out from the receiver.
“Why her? Isn’t she a janitor?” George asked, curiously.
“I gave her a ride, and she knows I didn’t rob the bank,” Joey said.
“Okay, I’ll track her down with the supervisor of those janitors,” George promised then hung up.
Joey placed his iPhone back on his belt with a glimmer of hope.
He sat back down in the refrigerator box.
He closed his eyes.
Something thumped on the top of the box.
Joey jumped up, scared. Then looked relieved when a cat jumped off the box and landed on the ground.
The cat looked at Joey and meowed and slowly walked away.
A long twenty-two minutes went by, and Joey’s iPhone rang with a Sci-Fi ring tone. He looked excited because he knew George would pull through for him. He removed his iPhone.
“George, I’m so glad you found her,” Joey answered his call all excited.
“Sorry, but the manager of the janitorial company said they don’t have a Sandy working for them,” George informed Joey.
Joey looked baffled. “Of course they do. She came in and emptied my trash,” Joey corrected George.
“I don’t know what to tell you, but he was adamant about not having an employee named Sandy,” George said.
“What am I going to do?” Joey asked.
“Turn yourself into the Sheriff’s department. It’s the right thing to do,” said George, and he was serious.
Joey thought about his suggestion for a second then cringed at the thought of that. “They’ll put me in a jail cell until this gets sorted out. That could take weeks, and you know what happened to Roy’s cousin. Can I stay at your place until I find Sandy?” Joey pleaded.
At his desk cubicle, George looked worried. “Sorry, Joey, you’re on your own. I can’t risk being arrested for harboring a fugitive,” George told him then he hesitated, as he didn’t want to give him more bad news. Then he decided it was best he knew.
“Ah Joey, there’s something else you need to know,” George said.
“What’s that?” Joey asked, afraid of more bad news.
“I heard human resources officially terminated you,” George said and hated to be the bearer of bad news.
“Terminated me? I haven’t been officially arrested yet. Why did they do that?” Joey asked.
“Since your picture and name has been plastered all over the news, they’re afraid of what our customers would think,” George replied.
“George,” Mary’s voice bellowed behind him, and that scared the crap out of him, as he didn’t know she was there. He slammed down his phone and turned around to Mary.
“Sorry to scare you, staff meeting five minutes. Management has urgent news they need to tell us,” Mary said with a concerned look on her face.
Mary left very suspicious of George.
George got up from his desk and left his cubicle concerned Mary might have heard his conservation with Joey.
From inside his box, Joey looked concerned with a few minutes of silence.
“George? Hello?” Joey talked into his iPhone. After a few minutes of no response, Joey figured out George hung up. Now he dumped me. Joey thought while he sat depressed in the refrigerator box and wondered how was he going to find Sandy, as he knew her by. His eyes widened, and he jumped up, as he knew where he could see her.
He rushed out of the woods.
Joey ran down the back of the appliance store strip mall.
On U.S. Route 231, thirty miles north of Dothan, Alabama, traffic was light, and it was a peaceful rural area.
Overhead, an Army Blackhawk helicopter flew on a training mission from nearby Fort Rucker.
The song Sweet Home Alabama blared from the radio while Jesse’s GTO raced down U.S. 231 with its convertible top down.
Jesse, Rose, in her natural short red hair, and Frankie sang along with the song.
Jesse drove another mile when Rose stood up and let the wind run through her red hair.
She reached down and grabbed the black wig she used to fool Joey.
“WOOOOO!” Rose yelled in excitement and raised her arms in the air with the wig in one hand. Rose let go of the wig.
It flew away and landed on the road while Jesse’s GTO raced down U.S. 231.
Jesse made a phone call on a stolen cell phone while Rose sat back down.
“Hello,” Ricky Salisbury answered Jesse’s call.
“Ah, I’m looking for Misty Maine,” Jesse faked.
“I’m sorry, sir, but you have the wrong number,” Ricky replied.
Jesse disconnected the call and smiled.
Jesse looked at his fuel gauge, and it was at a quarter of a tank.
He looked up ahead, and there was a small gas station all by itself.
Jesse pulled his GTO off the side of the road. “What’s wrong?” Rose questioned. “Need to fill up with gas,” he answered then he raised his convertible top and latched it.
He drove off down the street.
A little while later, Jesse pulled into that one gas station.
He stopped by one of the only two gas pumps. “Fill her up,” he told Rose while he turned off the engine.
Rose obeyed like the servant she’s become and got out of the GTO.
She walked around and started pumping gas into the tank.
“One hundred and eighteen thousand dollars. We have one hundred and eighteen thousand dollars!” Frankie said from the backseat, all excited and danced in his seat. “Your plan is working Jesse. You’re the master,” Frankie added then patted Jesse on his back to congratulate him.
Jesse looked proud while he puffed on a cigarette while he watched Rose while she pumped gas. “She is good. I have to admit,” he said then rolled down his window. “Hey baby, get something to eat and some Buds when you go inside,” he told her.
“Okay,” Rose replied from the outside then she put the gas nozzle back in the pump.
Jesse rolled up his window. “I just hope she doesn’t screw up with the others,” Jesse said as he watched Rose when she walked inside the little convenience store of the station.
Jesse reached in his pants and removed a small bag with some uppers inside. He grabbed an upper and swallowed it as it was going to be a long drive.
Hours had passed.
Back down in Orlando, Joey walked exhausted up to the Burger King where he dropped Rose off last night.
Joey entered Burger King, where there were only a handful of customers.
He walked up to the counter with a smile as he knew he would eventually find Sandy, and his life would be back to normal.
A male teenager with a face full of pimples stood by one of the cash registers. “May I take your order?” the teenager said.
“I need to speak with Debbie?” Joey replied with a smile.
The teenager thought for a second. “We don’t have anybody named Debbie that works here.”
Joey’s heart sank. He refused to accept his answer.
“Sure you do, and she’s getting married. She has a sister, named Sandy who I dropped off here last night to get a ride home with Debbie,” Joey insisted.
“Sorry sir, but nobody works here named Debbie,” the teenager insisted.
“I would like to speak to your manager. I must speak to Debbie,” Joey demanded while he slammed his fist down on the counter.
The teenager looked at Joey’s determined eyes and walked away.
He walked to the back of the restaurant.
A few minutes later, the teenager walked back to the counter with his manager, a fat, bald man.
“Sir, we really don’t have a Debbie that works here, and I should know who my employees are,” the manager insisted.
Joey nodded that he accepted the manager’s answer and left the restaurant confused.
Back at the Consolidated Software Company, numerous employees had discreet meetings in their cubicles and discussed Joey’s cubicle being searched by the Sheriff’s department.
Inside Joey’s cubicle, an Orange County deputy searched Joey’s desk drawers.
Another deputy typed on Joey’s computer and opened up Word.
Inside a Consolidated Software conference room, George sat nervously at the table with Angie across from him. He didn’t want to be arrested for talking with Joey.
Angie jotted down notes on her pad.
“What did he want?” she asked him.
“He wanted me to find some janitor named Sandy. She’s a janitor with a tattoo of a rose on her left hand. Joey claimed he gave her a ride to the bank and she can clear this up. He said it was all a huge misunderstanding. But the janitorial service doesn’t have her as an employee, and I’ve never seen her,” George confessed.
Angie wrote down what George stated. “Do you know where he might be?” she asked.
“I don’t have a clue. I swear. He’s somewhere around town,” George replied with hope she believed him.
“Do you have his cell phone number?” Angie asked.
George hesitated. “Five, five, five, ten, oh, nine,” George told her.
Angie wrote down the number in her note pad.
She reached in her purse.
She removed a business card and handed it to George. “Call me the second he contacts you again,” she said as she stared he square in his eyes.
“Yes, ma-am,” said George while he glanced at her car.
George got up and left the conference room.
Angie stayed behind and reviewed her notes from George. She was ready to interview more employees.
During the past hour, Angie interviewed numerous coworkers of Joey, including Mary Carter. It was surprising how Mary defended Joey, stating that he was too much of a geek to be a bank robber.
Angie left the conference room and walked through Consolidated Software until she got to Joey’s cubicle.
Joey’s computer was tagged with an evidence label.
The printer printed out a piece of paper. The other deputy grabbed the paper off the printer when Angie entered.
“I found this on Austin’s computer,” the deputy said as he handed the paper to Angie.
She read the same exact words that were on the robbery note the teller turned over to Angie. “This doesn’t look good for Mister Austin,” Angie said.
Another deputy entered with a cart.
The deputy that printed out the robbery note then placed Joey’s work computer on the cart.
They rolled the cart out of Joey’s cubicle.
Angie looked around Joey’s cubicle.
She looked at the metal trash can, and she didn’t take her eyes off it as it made her curious.
She removed her cell phone from her belt, opened it up, and made a call. “Hey Bruce, Angie here. Listen, I have some prints coming your way, and I need the results ASAP,” she requested.
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Bruce promised from her cell phone.
“Thanks and send them to my office. And tell Marge I said hello, and we’ll have to go out for dinner soon,” Angie said with a friendly smile.
“I would love that,” Bruce replied from her cell phone.
Angie disconnected the call and placed her cell phone back on her belt.
She looked at one of the deputies. “Have someone lift prints off that trash can under Austin’s desk,” she asked.
“Not a problem,” the deputy replied.
Angie walked out of Joey’s cubicle.
It was nine forty-five at night. Thunder filled the sky as a storm approached from the southwest.
Joey walked down a lonely street in his hat.
A crack of lightning scared the crap out of him, and he jumped a mile. Another crack of lightning and rain dumped out of the sky. Joey was soaked in minutes.
He stopped and didn’t know where to go.
Then he saw a shabby hotel across the street. The rain made his decision. A decision he would never had made a couple of days ago.
Joey headed across the street.
The inside of the hotel was shabby and filthy with an occasional cockroach that scampered across the floor.
The lobby furniture was worn with holes and stains on the fabric. The whole place reeked of smells of past drunks who vomited on the floor and other bodies fluid stench.
Joey entered the hotel lobby soaked to the bones.
He walked to the counter and left a trail of wet spots.
The hotel clerk, a skinny, creepy man around forty-five years old, long greasy shoulder-length hair, with tattoos that covered the entire length of both arms, watched TV behind the counter.
The clerk looked up from his TV as Joey approached his counter.
“I need a room for the night,” Joey said.
“Fifty a day,” the clerk replied with a smirk.
Joey opened his wallet. He was short of the cash. He debated in his mind if he should stay or leave.
Then the loud clap of thunder and nearby lightning bolt changed his mind.
He removed his credit card and handed it to the clerk.
The clerk took his card and processed it.
“Room twenty-eight upstairs,” the clerk said and handed Joey’s credit card back to him with a receipt.
Joey grabbed the card and receipt and shoved it back in his wallet.
The clerk handed Joey a room key.
Joey turned to leave.
A sleazy hooker, late forty-nine, droopy breasts from years of not wearing a bra, raspy voice, tattoos on her arms, legs and a huge tramp stamp, suddenly appeared in Joey’s face.
He looked intimidated.
“Hey darling, I come with the room,” she said in his face then massaged Joey’s crotch with her long and skinny fingers with fingernails that had been manicured with her teeth.
“Ah...no, thanks,” Joey jumped back, scared.
He raced off down the hallway.
He slipped on one of his wet spots and his butt slammed hard to the floor.
The clerk and hooker laughed.
Joey got up and raced down the hallway to the door that led to the stairs.
Joey rushed up the dark stairs.
The inside of Room 28 was dark except for the lightning that flashed from the only window.
The door opened, the light flicked on, and Joey stared at a filthy room with a nasty bed, chair, small TV, and a tiny bathroom.
He looked grossed out while he closed the door.
Joey threw his backpack on the chair.
He plopped on the bed and closed his eyes. His eyes popped open.
He jumped up and danced around the room in a panic as he brushed cockroaches off his clothes.
The cockroaches hit the floor and scampered off.
Joey walked back to the bed. No more cockroaches – it’s safe.
He sat down on the bed. He remembered his iPhone.
He removed it from his belt.
He grabbed his backpack, unzipped the side pocket, and removed his charger.
He walked over to an outlet at the wall on the opposite wall.
He plugged his iPhone into the charger then plugged that into the outlet.
He walked back to the bed and sat down.
Three hours passed, and Joey slept on the bed with his Schooner hat still on his head. The sound of the thunderstorm was faint as the storm headed farther north.
Someone knocked on the door. Joey jumped up, scared. The police! He thought, and his heart raced, and he got frightened.
That person knocked louder.
Joey got off the bed and rushed over to the window.
He peeked outside and thought about jumping. But he didn’t see any police cars outside.
Maybe that hooker wants me. He thought to himself.
Joey walked over and cautiously opened up the door.
The clerk barged in and flashed a newspaper in Joey’s face. It was the front page with Joey’s picture of him inside his car at the drive-thru with the “SUN TRUST BANK ROBBER SOUGHT” headlines above it.
“I want you out of here now,” the clerk demanded.
“But I paid for the room. Can I get the charge off my credit card?” Joey asked.
“Get out! I can’t have the police snooping around my respectable establishment,” the clerk yelled.
The hooker watched from the hallway while she puffed on a cheap cigarette.
Joey walked over and unplugged his iPhone charger from the wall outlet.
He removed his iPhone and placed it back on his belt.
He walked over to the bed and unzipped the side pocket of his backpack and put the charger back.
He zipped up the pocket and walked to the door with the backpack in hand.
He walked out of the room.
The clerk watched as Joey walked down the hallway.
The hooker took a drag off her cigarette. “Hey sugar, I have an empty space in my bed at my trailer,” she said them blew him a kiss.
Joey picked up his pace and raced down the hallway.
The clerk closed the door to Room 28 while Joey raced out of sight down the stairs.