“Hi, I would like to buy a dozen eggs,” I reply.
“They’re $4.00 a dozen or two dozen for $7.00. Needs to be cash, don’t do plastic.”
“I’ll take a dozen,” I say.
“Do you have the correct amount or do I need to bring change?”
“I’ve got a five.”
“I’ll bring you a dollar.”
Before I can say anything else, she terminates the conversation.
About five minutes later, I see a person coming down the dirt and gravel lane in jeans, wearing dark sunglasses and a gray hoodie covering her head. She is carrying a plastic bag. Not far behind her are two dogs, one Doberman and one German shepherd. As soon as the dogs observe me, they quickly advance on the closed gate, baring their teeth, barking and growling. The hooded stranger shouts a command and both dogs sit but continue showing me their teeth.
The woman in the hoodie hands me the plastic bag. “I didn’t have a dollar in change, so I’m giving you eighteen eggs for $5.”
I hand her the five and take the plastic bag. I eye the proximity of the dogs and then say, “Thank you, but I’m also hoping you can answer some questions for me.”
Raising her voice and giving me a look to kill, or at least wound and maim, she replies, “I’m sorry, do I look like a librarian to you? Are you here to buy eggs or ask questions? You’re new. Who told you about me?”
Still eyeing the dogs, I answer, “Detective Concile of the North Myrtle Beach Police Department told me to look you up. I’m looking for information on holistic medicine?”
Immediately, her posture and demeanor changes. She gives a hand command and the dogs lie down and close their mouths. “Sure, Detective Sam. Nice lady. How can I help you?”
“I’m a private investigator and I’m looking into a case where two people died and they were both into holistic medicine.”
A change in composure covers her face. She looks around the premises before answering. “Can we meet somewhere and discuss this later?”
“Sure, you name the place and time.”
She contemplates the question. “How about to-morrow morning across the street at Mickey D’s, let’s say around ten?”
I laugh. “Why are you laughing?” she quips.
“That’s my name, Mickke D. Works for me. See you in the morning.”
The hooded stranger and her companions turn, walk back up the lane, and disappear in the trees. The dogs bark several times before leaving as if sending me a message.
CHAPTER 4
The following morning I arrive at McDonald’s at 9:45. I grab a corner table and watch as people enter and leave the restaurant. At almost exactly ten, a young woman enters. Her features are sharply defined, with large expressive eyes, trim and petite, dressed in a blue knee-length skirt with a low-cut V-neck top. She presents an appealing package just shy of all-out beauty, and she is staring at me. After a few seconds, she waves and walks toward my table.
I find myself jolted back into the past as I casually stand up and wave back. I have always been a sucker for a beautiful woman. That’s why I have been married three times, divorced three times, and broke three times. But, right now, none of that seems to matter. I am dumb-founded. Why would this lovely creature be waving at me? Then I remember, the woman yesterday was wearing a hoodie and sunglasses. I never really got a good look at her face. As she gets closer, I begin to see a resemblance to the hooded woman I met yesterday. She extends her hand and plants a strong handshake on me. “We weren’t formally introduced yesterday. I’m Jo-Anne Jefferson.”
I recognize the voice. “Well, Jo-Anne Jefferson, I’m Mickke D. Are your dogs out in the car?”
“No, they’re home, and in case you ever come back, their bark is much worse than their bite, but don’t tell anyone.”
I’m thinking to myself, “Why is this person who yesterday was pretty much in a pissed off mood all of a sudden so nice to me?”
She must have noticed my confusion. “I called Detective Sam last night and she gave me the low-down on you.”
I smile, but inside I’m thinking, Oh, my God, I can’t imagine what Sam may have told her about me.
I get Jo-Anne a cup of coffee and after some small chitchat, I begin my questions, “So Jo-Anne, what do you do besides raise chickens and sell eggs?”
She looks around the restaurant then whispers, “I’m a mentor for holistic medicine.”
I whisper back, “Why are you whispering?”
Continuing her whisper, she replies, “Because I was a mentor to both of those people who were found dead in the swimming pools.”
Still somewhat intrigued by this lovely woman, I am completely caught off guard. “Oh, my God, did you tell Detective Concile that?”
She now speaks with only a half-whisper, “Of course not. She didn’t ask, and what would that have to do with their deaths? And besides, I didn’t want to get involved. Unless our conversation is confidential, I’m done answering questions.”
Do I want to piss-off Jo-Anne or Detective Sam? I give her my most trustworthy look and respond, “What’s said in Mickey D’s stays in Mickey D’s.”
She half-smiles. “Okay, continue.”
“First of all, what exactly is holistic medicine?” I ask.
“Holistic medicine involves a person’s physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual health. It uses therapies to treat the whole person, not just their physical symptoms.”
“That sounds intriguing. Did Skipper and Linda know each other?”
“Well, I’m not sure. They both had appointments in my office at the same time a few days before they died. I never saw either one of them after that.”
“Did either one of them seem troubled or scared in any way?”
“Not at all. They were both happy campers and as healthy as a horse.”
After some more small talk and before she leaves, I ask her for her phone number just in case I may have some more questions for her. She hesitates and then laughs as she gives me her business card along with her cell phone number. “Sam said you would probably want my number.” She turns and saunters out the door.
As I watch her leave, I am thinking, I will definitely have some more questions for you, young lady.
CHAPTER 5
The moment Skipper Chucks walked into Jo-Anne Jefferson’s office, he noticed Linda Evans sitting in the waiting room. He took a seat across from her and picked up a magazine, though the truth be known he was more interested in looking at Linda than reading the magazine. They both smiled at each other.
Skipper, not being a shy guy and noticing she was not sporting a wedding ring, walked across the room and took the chair next to her. They chatted and laughed until the receptionist called Linda’s name. Knowing he may only have one shot at this lovely woman, he made his move. “Say, would you like to have a drink after leaving here today?”
She paused, studying his handsome face and dark wavy hair. After not much thought, she agreed, saying she would wait for him outside. After both of their sessions were over, they met and decided to go down by the waterfront and have a drink. They also agreed they would drive separately.
They find a quaint little restaurant on the waterway and sit down next to a window with a view of the marina. It’s too early for happy hour and they are the only customers in the restaurant. While sipping on a cold drink, they notice a fishing boat enter the marina. After docking, two men in suits, which is strange to see at the beach, climb onboard. One of the deckhands moves some fish and holds up a white plastic bag. They notice one of the suits gestures at him to put it down.
Behind Skipper and Linda, their waiter, Mike Keegan, watches and hears Skipper say in almost a whisper, “Was that cocaine?”
Mike immediately leaves the restaurant and rushes out to the boat. He whispers to one of the suits. They both look up toward the window where the couple was seated and only half-full glasses remain. The suit says something to Mr. Keegan.
Skipper and Linda are going out the f
ront entrance as the waiter re-enters through the back door. She gives Skipper her cell phone number and they leave in their separate vehicles. They decide not to call the police because neither one of them wants to get involved.
Mike follows them at a respectable distance and takes cell phone pictures of both of their license plates. He also finds and writes down the name on the credit card used to pay their bar bill.
The man in the suit waits until Mike returns with the information on their peeping toms. He now has Skipper’s name and both of their license plates. He hands the waiter a $100 dollar bill and thanks him. He motions to the other suit. “See to it that the deckhand who held up the sugar does not return from the next run. We can’t afford screw-ups like this.”
Suit 2 nods. He calls the captain of the boat over, and orders him to eliminate the deck hand on the next run. He then moves back to Suit 1 and gives him a thumbs up. They normally wait until after dark to unload their contraband but they decide to move the boat immediately to a less conspicuous location and to unload their “sugar” immediately.
Suit 1 says to 2, “When we get back to the office, find those two people and get rid of them. The sooner the better, and make it look like an accident.”
CHAPTER 6
I decide to go to the library to pick up some reading material on holistic medicine, as well as some fictional novels. I want to research holistic medicine, just in case I need to call Jo-Anne Jefferson again.
I’m seated in the local library, trying to determine which of the three books I have with me, I’m going to check out. If I take all three, I’ll never read them before the return dates. I have a non-fiction book on holistic medicine and two fiction novels. I always read the jacket, leaf through the book to make sure the print is not too small, and finally I read the first paragraph of the book. If it doesn’t get my attention, I move on to the next one.
I’m leafing through my second choice and I notice a torn folded napkin placed between two of the pages. Out of curiosity, I open the napkin and find a scribbled note: Please help me, I think they’re going to kill me. There is no name or date, just a call for help or a prank placed there by some kids who do not like spending time at the library.
If I was a smart man, I would just close the book and move on to the next one, but the PI in me says don’t you dare. I look around the room to see if anyone is watching me, but no one catches my eye as a possible threat. So now what do I do? Call Detective Concile and have her laugh at me, or see what I can find out on my own?
I casually walk around the library and see if anyone looks stressed, worried or anxious. Everyone looks happy and content. Next, I walk up to the desk. A young woman asks if she can help me. With my best smile and gazing at her nametag, I reply, “Well, Sherry, I sure hope so. Would it be possible for you to tell me who checked this book out last?”
Sherry gets a funny look on her face and before she can say no, I pull a staged twenty-dollar bill out of the middle of the book. “I found this twenty in the book and I’m going to guess the person reading it was using it as a bookmark. I would just like to make sure it gets back to the right person.” I flash my PI license and a big smile and continue, “Can you help me?”
With a puzzled look, she takes the book, goes over to her computer, starts pushing keys and writes something down on a notepad. She returns with the note and a flirtatious wink. “This did not come from me.”
I nod my head, take the note, and leave. I look at the note once I’m in my vehicle. The name is Mary Kay Henderson and she lives in Cherry Grove. There is an address but no phone number. Since I’m close, I opt to drive by the address, which seems to be an apartment complex. As I turn into the complex, I notice police cars and an EMT unit. I walk slowly up to where everyone is congregated, and low and behold, there is my favorite detective, Sam Concile.
She turns just as I get close and gets that look on her face. “What the hell are you doing here?” she calls out.
“Well, nice to see you too, detective. What’s going on?”
“Robbery gone bad. Young girl in her twenties, stabbed to death. Again, why are you here?”
“Was her name Mary Kay Henderson?”
“Mickke D, you never cease to amaze me. How did you know that?”
I pull the torn napkin from my pocket and hand it to her. “I found this in a library book about thirty minutes ago. I checked on who last borrowed the book and it was Mary Kay Henderson at this address.”
CHAPTER 7
Jeffrey Barrons wears a coat and tie to work every day. He owns and operates a company that manages condo associations along the Grand Strand of South Carolina. He is originally from Colombia by way of New York City. He has been in the area for two years. He moved here with several key people to set up the condo management company and a drug smuggling business based in the Myrtle Beach area. His employees do a great job managing condos along the beach but have no idea what upper management does on the side.
Jeffrey moves drugs from South America and Mexico into Myrtle Beach and then distributes them all over the Southeast. He has an elaborate distribution team that moves drugs into the country one day and leaves the beach the next day. He never touches the drugs and none of the drugs are distributed in Myrtle Beach. His only job is to see that he gets what he paid for, that the drugs go out the next day, and that no one gets in the way. He considers himself strictly a businessman.
Mary Kay Henderson is the broker in charge of his condo association business, Condo Enterprises, LLC, and she has been with him since he opened the doors. One afternoon as she steps outside the back door for a smoke break, she accidently overhears Jeffery and his right-hand man, Bob Linde talking about how he did away with two people who noticed them with cocaine along the waterfront in Little River. In her rush to go back into the office, she knocks over a large plant, stumbles over the step and falls just as Jeffery and Bob come around the back of the office. “Are you all right, Mary Kay?” Jeffrey asks.
She gets back on her feet and replies, “Oh, I’m fine. I just tripped coming out the door for a smoke break. Thanks for asking.”
Jeffrey looks suspiciously at Bob. “So you just came out?”
Nervously, she replies, “Yes sir, thought I would get a quick smoke.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jeffrey asks with a look on his face Mary Kay has never seen before.
“Oh no, I’m fine.”
“Let me know if you need anything, okay?”
Mary Kay nods and quickly returns to her office forgetting about the smoke break. She is scared and has no idea what she should do. Do Jeffrey and Bob think she heard their conversation? Was she imagining the reference to cocaine? Should she call the police? She carefully sneaks a look out her office window and sees Jeffrey and Bob in a heated discussion in the parking lot and she can tell Jeffrey is very adamant about something.
As confusion and desperation set in, she hurriedly scribbles a note on a napkin and places it in a library book she is planning to return. In her befuddled state, she forgets to sign the note. She walks out to her secretary and asks her to drop off the book on her way home because she knows the girl goes right by the library. She leaves the office and goes directly home to decide what her next move will be. After a couple glasses of wine, she decides not to jump to any conclusions. She will return to work tomorrow as if nothing happened.
CHAPTER 8
Jeffrey and Bob have other plans for Mary Kay “I think she heard us talking. Get rid of her just like the other two,” Jeffrey says.
“Are you sure?” Bob asks.
“Yes, I’m sure. I noticed a cigarette lying on the ground, which had just been put out. She couldn’t have smoked it that fast if she had just come outside. Do you have a problem with that?”
“No sir, I’m just a little concerned that three people dying the same way may set off the possibility that maybe those other two were not just an unfortunate overdose.”
“Well, then kill her any way you want.
Just do it.”
As Bob turns to leave, Jeffrey receives a text message. “Hold on a minute Bob, listen to this. This text is from a member of the Valdez family back in Colombia. They used to be a client of mine.” He reads the text. Understand you’re in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. I need someone removed up there. I’ll pay $100,000.00 to have the job done. Are you interested?
“Wow, are you going to take the contract?” Bob quickly asks.
“Probably not, but if you want to do it, I’ll let them know.”
“Sure, I’ll do it. Have them send me the particulars.”
Jeffrey returns the text and tells them that he will accept the contract and to send the details.
CHAPTER 9
After a two-hour meeting with the mayor and the police chief, Detective Reynolds is told that because of the possibility of a major landslide, the cave will not be excavated. It is just too dangerous. The whole side of Mt. Pleasant could come down. The police chief also tells him in private that it would be a good idea not to mention anything about strange sounds coming from the cave. Detective Reynolds reluctantly agrees; however, he does ask what he should do about Jake. The chief tells him to find some hard evidence that Jake was in the cave. If he can’t, then treat him as a missing persons case and look elsewhere.
Reynolds leaves the meeting not a happy camper. He keeps pondering the thought that maybe they should have gone in and searched the cave for Jake. He also thinks about the fact that if all three of them had been inside when the rumbling began, they would all be dead or entombed in the cave.
Terror Grips the Beach Page 2
