She knows her height is a dead giveaway so she wore flat shoes and a wig and made herself look like an old lady leaning over a cane to get back into the country. She came by boat because there were fewer security checks. Once in the U.S., she changed wigs and got rid of the cane. The only people who could possibly recognize her are TC or Mickke D. However, what are the odds of running into them?
Recently, through her old intelligence network, she had discovered the other three girls had been killed and everyone thinks she did it. British Intelligence has put a large price on her head. She may have cheated the other girls out of some money, but she did not kill them, and now she is trying to figure out who did.
Still, she has been unable to get the buried treasure out of her mind. She figures it has to be worth tens of millions. Hence the trip back to Myrtle Beach. While doing some research on the internet, she found a reference to some old maps at the Georgetown Library. Her plan is to check out those maps before going to Charleston to do a little snooping around and then back to Antigua. She learned in the intelligence business that the longer you stay in an area, the better the odds are of someone recognizing you.
Chapter: 17 Girls, Boats & Bats
I feel someone approaching. I turn, look up, and there is this beautiful woman looking at me and smiling. She is maybe in her late thirties or early forties with short, dark hair. She is one of the four women I noticed at the other table. “Excuse me, but aren’t you Mickke MacCandlish?”
I am completely caught off guard and I just stare at her without speaking. My mind is somewhere else. Finally, Jake breaks the silence, “Yes, he is Mickke MacCandlish, but he’s always been rather shy around beautiful women.”
“Well, I’m Sherie Small and you used to date my older sister Sandy Derr in high school, but I don’t remember her saying anything about you being shy. She used to tell me to stay in my room when you would come over to the house when mom and dad were gone.”
I feel my face turning red and my mind is trying to put this whole thing together. Finally, I stand up and say, “Now I remember. Sandy Derr, cute girl with red hair and wore glasses. Of course, you’re her younger sister Sherie. How are you, and how is Sandy?”
“She’s married to a professional fisherman, lives in Long Boat Key, Florida, and has two kids, but she always had this huge crush on you. I thought that was you and I just wanted to say hello.”
I now know what to do. I pull out my cell phone, hand it to Jake, and say, “Jake why don’t you take a picture of Sherie and me? And be sure to get that beautiful boat out there in the lake in the picture as well.”
Jake has a perplexed look on his face, but he takes the phone as Sherie sits down in the chair next to me. I put my arm around her and smile at Jake. I hear the roar of the large inboard motors from the Criss-Craft come to life. “Any time Jake, while we’re all still young.”
Jake takes the photo. “Take another one Jake, just in case.”
Sherie pulls out her phone and asks Jake to take one with her phone. She wants to send it to Sandy. Jake takes the photo as the boat leaves the area.
I look out toward the lake and the approaching sunset as the antique Criss-Craft boat disappears. Jake and I walk Sherie back to her table and she makes introductions all around. Jake seems disappointed because all four women are all sporting wedding rings.
After some small talk, we return to our table and Jake exclaims, “I don’t ever remember you dating Sandy Derr in high school and I don’t remember her having a gorgeous younger sister. Where was I?”
I give Jake a stare. “Remember Jake, I wasn’t the one to kiss and tell. That was you, not me. There were a lot of girls I dated in high school that you never knew about.”
Jake sighs, “Oh well, what a bummer. I guess we won’t get lucky tonight. And why did you want that boat in the picture?”
“Just a hunch Jake, just a hunch.”
I grab my phone and gaze at the two pictures Jake took. The boat shows up well in both of them. I email both pictures to Steve and text him to see if he can figure out who owns the boat. I may make some stops at a few of the local marinas here on the lake to see if they know who owns the boat.
“All in all Jake, this was a pretty good night. Even though we did not get lucky, I did fine because you drove and you’re paying for dinner.”
“Right, and are you going to tell me who else you dated that I don’t know about?”
“No way Jake, no way.”
We leave the winery, and just before we get to the paved highway, we encounter a detour sign pointing us down a dirt road. The signs don’t appear very official to me but Jake turns before I have a chance to stop him. “Jake, I don’t think this is a good idea. Did you see anything wrong on the other road?”
It’s too late. A pickup truck pulls out of the woods in front of us and another one pulls in behind us. We have nowhere to go. Two rather burly, menacing-looking figures get out of the front truck and a guy who looks like Paul Bunyan gets out of the truck behind us. All three look like scalawags from the lower end of the food chain.
I immediately say to Jake, “Get out of the car now. We don’t need to be stuck in this car. Stand back to back, and if I tell you to run, do it and don’t look back.”
By this time, Jake’s eyes are the size of saucers and getting bigger by the second. It’s dusk and getting darker by the minute. “Say what?” he finally blurts out.
“Just do it Jake, now!” I say with a very stern look his way.
The headlights from the opposing trucks are shining right in our eyes. Before I went into the winery, I put my weapon in Jake’s glove compartment. I retrieve it before exiting the car and place it in my right front pants pocket. I quickly dial 911 on my phone and place it in my left front pants pocket.
We venture out to the middle of the road and as I told Jake, we stand back to back. I gaze at the two guys in front of me who both have baseball bats. I turn and look over my shoulder and see Paul Bunyan has one as well. I’m beginning to feel better. If they were going to kill us, we would already see weapons. I say to the two in front of me, “Say fellows, what seems to be the problem?”
The biggest one barks back, “The trouble is, asshole, we don’t like you. Take your hands out of your pockets.”
I try smiling as I reply, “Now how can you not like me? You don’t even know me. And if I take my hands out of my pockets, you’re really not going to like me.” I take my left hand out and show him my phone. “I’ve already dialed 911, why don’t you guys just leave before the police get here.”
The big guy lifts his ball bat and comes toward me. I pull my .45 from my other pocket and fire a shot that hits about two feet in front of him. He stops.
Jake calls out, “Mickke D, here comes the other one. Should I run now?”
“No Jake, just duck, now!” Jake ducks and I turn and see Mr. Bunyan coming our way. He is not going to stop. I fire one time and hit him in the shoulder. He stops and falls to his knees. I hear a yell from Jake, turn back the other way and here come the other two. I fire at the closest one and hit him in the kneecap. He goes down. The third one stops and raises his hands.
“Jake, get on your phone and call 911 just in case mine didn’t go through.” Jake is just staring at the guy who is holding his knee and screaming. “Wake up Jake, make the call.”
“You shot them,” Jake slowly replies. “You shot them.”
“Well, I didn’t kill them. Did you want me to wait until they beat us severely about the head and shoulder region, or did you want to be used for batting practice?”
Jake calls 911 and with a shaky voice tells the operator where we are located. I walk over to the third guy and tell him to put his hands on the truck. “Jake, take his belt off and give it to me.”
“Why do you want his belt?” Jake is still in a daze.
“Jake, you ask a lot of questions. So I can tie him up. I don’t think the other two will be running away.”
I search the third guy, tie
his hands behind his back, and sit him against the truck. I go to Paul Bunyan and carefully search him as well. He is still emitting an aura of danger and a smell of alcohol. I tell Jake to search both trucks for weapons. Both pickups have a rifle rack over the rear window with a .30-.30 caliber rifle in place. I give one rifle to Jake, make sure it’s loaded, and tell him to watch Paul Bunyan. I search the other guy as well and tell him to stop yelling, that they make artificial knees. I tell him I was aiming at his head. He’s just lucky I missed.
I go back over to the tied-up guy and ask him why they were going to attack us with ball bats. He says, with alcohol on his breath and without hesitation, that a guy came into the bar just up the road and said he wanted to get a couple of guys’ attention. “He gave each of us a hundred-dollar bill. He told us where you were and what you were driving.”
“Did you ask him if I was packing?”
He just grunts.
“What did the man look like?” I ask.
“He was, I don’t know, maybe about 5’10 or 5’11, maybe 170 pounds, wearing a hoodie. I never really saw his face.”
We now hear sirens heading our way, and within minutes two sheriff’s cruisers plus an EMS vehicle pull up to our location. They cautiously exit their vehicles and tell us to raise our hands. We both do as they say.
After explaining what happened, they seem to believe us but one of the deputies ask if there is someone who can vouch for us. I give them big Steve’s name and number. He makes a call and tells us to follow them to the Sheriff’s Office in Lancaster. We agree.
On the way back to town, I drive because Jake is too shook up to talk, let alone drive a car. After both of us give a statement, we finally get to leave around 11:00 but we are told to be available if needed. Jake drives back to Shaw’s and drops me off. I ask him, “Would you like to try a different place for dinner tomorrow night?”
He looks at me, turns back, but does not answer. I get out of the car and he drives away. I guess he has never been in a situation such as he encountered tonight.
Stuart Peterson was watching the altercation at Buckeye Lake from a concealed location. Earlier he had given a guy four one hundred-dollar bills, one for him and three to have the job done. He was told to go into the bar and have three heavies have a sincere talk with two guys who were having dinner at The Winery. He passed on a description of the vehicle they were driving. He waited outside the bar to make sure his messenger did what he was supposed to do and not pocket the money and run.
That ploy didn’t work, so now it is time to take care of this problem another way. Up to this point, he thought a scare might send this PI packing and on his way back home. Now it is time to get serious. It is time to tie up some loose ends.
As Jake leaves and before I go inside, I walk around Shaw’s. I see no sign of a black SUV or silver Ford pickup. I look across the street at Fairfield Federal’s parking lot, but it is empty. I go in the front door and as I walk into the lobby, I see big Steve sitting in one of the over-sized lounge chairs. He is not smiling. I wave and he just points to the other chair next to his. “Mickke D, you are becoming a bigger pain in the ass every day you’re in town. First, you point a gun at a civilian and now you shoot two of them. You are becoming a menace to Lancaster society.”
I give him a sullen look. “Well, I didn’t kill either one of them. That one lowlife looked like Paul Bunyan, they all had baseball bats, and they were highly intoxicated. What did you want me to do, ask them how their day was going?”
I see the beginnings of a smile on his face but it doesn’t last long. “You’re lucky Mickke D. That big guy was Billy Barr, a local misfit from the area. He’s spent time in every jail in the county. The other big guy was his brother Jason Barr, and the other guy, the only one you didn’t shoot, was their cousin, Joey Sheets.”
“The guy I didn’t shoot told me that a guy came into the bar and offered each of them a hundred-dollar bill to rough us up a little. Is that what he told the deputies?”
This time he does laugh. “No, as a matter of fact, all three of them said you and Jake started a fight and they were just defending themselves. They want you and Jake arrested on assault and battery charges. But each of them did have a hundred-dollar bill in their possession, as well as baseball bats.”
I have no comeback. I just shake my head and change the subject. “Did you get the pictures I sent you of the boat at The Winery?”
“I did, but why do you want to know who owns it?”
“Because it pulled in right after we arrived. No one ever left the boat and the inhabitants decided to leave as soon as we started taking pictures. Then Jake and I are attacked after leaving the restaurant. Sounds like a set-up to me.”
“Well, if I were you, Mickke D, I would check with some of the marinas in the area to see if any of them know who owns the boat. I can’t send more people out on a closed case, and I have no way of figuring out who owns the boat any other way.” After a slight pause he continues, “I’ll see what I can find out for you.”
I give him a hard stare. “Thank you. Any other news for me?”
“Yes. I found a case back around the time of David’s death where a cell phone was missing and never found. The victim was the wife of State Representative Michael North. She drowned in a bathtub in a motel from a mixture of pain pills and booze about three weeks after David died. Her cell phone was never recovered.”
“That’s interesting. One of the stories Sissy was working on had to do with illegal pain pills. Is there any way I can see the file?”
“I’ll see what I can do, but the case was filed and closed as an accidental overdose. There were no bruises on the body and she had checked in by herself.”
I quickly reply, “Except for the missing cell phone. Just like the fact that Sissy’s phone was never found.”
“Okay, I told you I will see what I can do.” He stands up, turns toward the front entrance, and then turns back and says, “I would suggest you keep your head down. Sounds like someone has it in for you.”
I reply sarcastically, “I didn’t know you cared.”
“I don’t, but Sharon said we would love to go to dinner with you and I want to be able to collect on your offer.”
I go up to my room, reload my .45, take a hot shower, and fall asleep the second I hit the bed. I’m getting way too old for this line of work.
Chapter 18: The Brothers
Around 10:00, the following morning Jim from Myrtle Beach calls. “How are things in Ohio? Did you get those Buckeye shirts for me?”
“Things are so-so, and no I haven’t. Someone tried to get my attention with a baseball bat last night but other than that, not much going on. Did you find out anything for me?”
“Are you okay? You don’t sound any worse for wear. Did you deck the guy? “
“No, I shot him and his brother.”
After a slight pause, he replies, “Are you sure you don’t want me to come up there and lend a hand?”
“No, all is well for now. So what did you find out?”
“Here’s what I have. Thought I would tell you and then email you. Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
“Well, Robert Dane has no record at all. Been in the oil and gas industry all his life. He has had a few financial problems before the recent boom but seems solvent now. The company he works for, Wilmont Oil & Gas, is not so clean. They have had several environmental fines thrown their way, totaling over five million dollars, as well as some labor disputes. Several lawsuits filed but they usually settle out of court. The president is a Mr. Von Spineback who lives in Bexely, Ohio.”
“Wait a minute, did you say Spineback?”
“Yeah, his first name is Von, that’s with a `v` like in victory.”
“That’s interesting, I have a Jon Spineback on my list of people to talk to, but he lives just outside of Pickerington. See if you can find a connection for me.”
“You got it. Now as far as Ms. Ridlinger is concerned, be careful. Sh
e spent 20 years in the Air Force, black belt, expert marksman, and was reprimanded twice for beating the crap out of a couple of civilians although they started it both times. She’s divorced with no kids. Seems to be financially well off with a decent pension and a good job.”
“Yeah, when I met her, I could tell she had her shit together. Thanks Jim, this case is starting to get very interesting. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Hey, don’t forget my Ohio State T-Shirts and maybe a sweatshirt or two.”
“No problem big guy, got you covered.”
Fifteen minutes later, Jim calls back and reports, “Jon and Von Spineback are twin brothers.”
Jon and Von Spineback are indeed identical twins, but that’s where the relationship ends. The boys were always very competitive in school and several times it ended in a knock-down drag-out fight. They got to the point where they just did not like each other. Now the only time they see each other is when their mom forces them to come over for Thanksgiving and Christmas. They usually say hello and goodbye.
Jon went to college and on to medical school while Von rebelled and didn’t attend college. He traveled around the country for a while, did a stint in the Air Force, and then took a job as a landman with Wilmont Oil & Gas Company. He was very good at leasing ground for the company and acquiring rights of ways for pipelines. He was quickly promoted to director of gas marketing and supply for the company and then vice president of operations. He was known as a no-nonsense, do anything to get the job done type of person, which did not sit well with some of the other officials in the company. After the president had a sudden heart attack and died, Von was appointed president of Wilmont Oil & Gas by the board of directors. He has been with the company for twenty years.
Chapter 19: Addicted
About 10:30 that same day, Kevin receives a call from his unknown caller friend. “I need you to go to the park between Pickerington and Canal Winchester and pick up a brown paper bag with some pills inside as a thank you for your help with the computer. The pill bag will be in a plastic bag inside the trash can near the entrance to the lake. Thanks again for all of your help.”
Death on Mt Pleasant Page 7
