Gray Ghost (The Bill Dix Detective Series Book 1)

by Swinney, C. L.

  He peeled a banana slowly and began to eat it.

  “Time is of the essence, Thomas. Finish that bite, and we’ll continue.”

  Thomas chewed and swallowed. “Shoot.”

  Dix leaned forward. “Now, tell us what really happened.”

  “You got most of it right. I took out the men on the speedboat because I panicked after miscalculating my shot.”

  Roger punched Thomas twice in the stomach. Thomas doubled over in pain and groaned.

  Roger said, “That’s one for each of my friends, Sean and Preston. If I’d known for sure you were involved before I called Bubba, I’d have cut your fingers off and shot you with your own rifle. I’d kill you now, but I gave my word not to. I hope you rot in prison.”

  Roger wheeled around, fists clenched at his side, and left the room.

  Dix didn’t feel sorry for Thomas, but he had to get more information.

  Thomas quickly reached over to grab Dix’s leg, but Dix was quicker. He slammed his right elbow into the middle of Thomas’s back. The blow knocked Thomas onto the ground with the chair still secured to his ankles.

  Dix stood over Thomas glaring at him. “What the hell was that about? I’m not the enemy. You’re lucky to be alive. The quicker you tell us what we need, the quicker we turn you over to the police.”

  Thomas gasped, “Help me up.”

  “Not until you tell me everything. Do you understand?”

  Thomas groaned and nodded. “The Caller is American and most likely has military training. He has knowledge of drug trafficking trends and interdiction. He does his business through middlemen and uses only secured lines on a cell phone when he calls. He pays very well. Dix frowned. “You’ve done a lot of checking on this guy, haven’t you?”

  “I tried to figure out who he was because I wanted to have some dirt on him as protection.”

  “When was the last time you worked for him?”

  Thomas groaned again, but when Dix made no move to help him, he took a breath and continued. “Over a year ago. I hadn’t shot the rifle since.”

  “What else can you tell me about the Caller?”

  “I think he works alone because I ran into roadblocks everywhere when I tried to track him down. I don’t know much about computers, but when I tried to search for cell phone numbers I had and possible associates, my computer froze up and I had to take it to a local computer store to get it working again.”

  “Is there anything else you think could be helpful?” Dix was tired and wanted to get Thomas to the local cops.

  “Whether I’m arrested or one of these men kill me, I think the Caller will send someone else to finish this mission. A hundred million is sitting on the ocean floor. The one person he told about it failed to return it to him. I don’t know anyone who would pass up that much money. Someone else will come.”

  “You killed two men. I hope you rot in hell.” Dix spat on the floor next to the sniper. Then he righted the chair and retied Thomas’s wrists before he knocked on the door.

  Roger unlocked it. “What now?”

  “We turn this guy in. It’s time to turn everything over to the local officers.”

  “All right. We’ll take him out of the shed and transport him to the police department.”

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  Roger’s guards untied Thomas’s legs from the chair and allowed him to stand to get his balance. After a minute, they started escorting him from the shed out to the backyard.

  Thomas brushed past the two young men when he went through the door. His right hand was free of the rope Dix had loosely placed on him. With speed and agility, Thomas grabbed the gun from one of the armed guards and ran toward the side yard of the house. He had fired a few rounds in the direction of the house and the shed before he took cover behind an abandoned car surrounded by tall grass.

  Everybody scrambled for cover as a round echoed in the air. A .223 caliber round caught Thomas on the left side of his body. The bullet tore through major organs and he slumped over dead next to the car.

  Dix rushed from behind the shed to find Roger standing over Thomas’s body.

  Petersen ran from the house and approached the body, checking for a pulse, then turned to Dix. “He’s dead.” Removing the rope from Thomas’s left hand, he handed it to one of the young men looking over his shoulder. “Make this disappear.”

  Roger turned to his son. “Get the guy’s gear from the shed.” The only thing they kept was the handheld GPS with the coordinates to the speedboat.

  The boy returned quickly. They put the ghillie suit back on Thomas’s lifeless body. One of Roger’s sons placed a Colt .45 close to the dead sniper’s hand.

  Petersen turned to the group. “Okay, who shot him?”

  The son whose gun Thomas had stolen looked down. “I did.”

  Petersen nodded. “We need to come up with a story and then make sure everyone else goes along with it.”

  Fortunately, no one else had been injured.

  Petersen spoke first. “We need to have a reason for shooting this guy. Here’s what I’m thinking. Roger, we say you caught the guy and planned on calling the local police to turn him in. Before you could do that, the sniper grabbed your kid’s gun and ordered him at gunpoint to let him go. The sniper became desperate and made a run for one of the cars parked out front. He turned and fired at the house, and Roger shot him to protect his family.” The group nodded.

  When everyone had agreed on their part in the story, Roger placed a frantic phone call to the police, telling the dispatcher he’d just shot someone.

  Dix hoped their story would work. With the secluded location and no other witnesses, we just might pull it off. It was a crime scene, after all. He didn’t feel good about Petersen compromising it, but he didn’t see that he’d had a choice.

  He could barely hear the steel drums from the celebration in town but realized their sound had probably covered the gunshots. Now police sirens grew louder than the drums.

  Dix felt his cell phone vibrate and answered. “Stand by.” He heard Snead’s twang on the other end. “Hey bud, what’s up?”

  Dix took a deep breath, “Remember when I mentioned the sniper?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, he gave us all kinds of information about this Caller guy. He confessed to killing Sean and Preston but claimed it was an accident. Then he got a hand free, took a gun, and escaped. He fired a few rounds at the house and was killed by a single round.”

  “What the hell you guys doing over there? Sounds like rookies at amateur night.”

  “Somehow, he got one hand free of the restraints I’d tied on him.”

  “How in tarnation did that happen?”

  “The rope must have been a little loose.”

  “Didn’t I teach you better than that?”

  Dix knew it wasn’t wise to argue with Snead.

  “Well, he’d have spent the rest of his worthless life in prison or gotten the death penalty.”

  “Retirement has made you sour.” Dix smiled.

  “Hell, I was always sour. I let up on you because I liked you,”

  “Okay, what do you have for me?”

  “The computer guys are still messing with the leads I gave them. I did some research on the internet for variations of the name Jackie and Spears. Most hits were for ladies in the U.S. and the U.K. I read them all. One of the bios I read was rather interesting. A Jackie Lynn Spears was found in a car at the bottom of a lake, near Tallahassee, Florida, about six years ago. Her maiden name was Jackie Lynn Calhoun. Her late husband, who was considered the prime suspect in her murder, was named Arthur Spears, hence the name change.”

  Dix said, “Besides being murdered and found at the bottom of the lake, what makes her so interesting?”

  “Don’t interrupt, boy. They never figured out how Jackie Spears died, but murder was possible. The prime suspect was her husband. The detectives working the case couldn’t sell the scraps of evidence they had to the District Attorney’s
office, and apparently, the husband was terminally ill with cancer at the time. Afterward, he miraculously recovered and moved on. He also remarried within a month.”

  “What’s the status of the case?” Dix asked.

  “Cold file. Just sitting in a basement somewhere.”

  Dix couldn’t see the pieces fitting together. “So is there a connection?”

  “Son, you need to learn a little patience. Here’s the interesting stuff. Jackie Lynn Calhoun was the daughter of Coast Guard Lieutenant Commander Jim Calhoun. She was his only child. Her mother died when the girl was young, and Calhoun raised her alone.”

  “Are you talking about Bloodhound Calhoun?”

  “I sure am. A few months after the husband was magically cured, he died under suspicious circumstances. Get this, his body was discovered in a car in the same lake as Jackie Spears. That case was also ruled a murder with no leads, no clues, no evidence, and no suspect. Seems like a professional job. The detectives didn’t seem to look too hard either.”

  Dix said, “Did anyone ever question Bloodhound?”

  “You’re joshin’ me, right? The guy’s a living legend. He has the reputation of being a straight arrow. People were so busy consoling him for the loss of his only child, it probably never crossed anyone’s mind to question him.”

  Dix thought about it for a second. “I guess you’re right. Probably wouldn’t have questioned him too much either.”

  He knew about Calhoun’s reputation, not only in the Coast Guard, but among high-ranking politicians and law enforcement. No one had more information and understanding of narcotics trafficking in the United States, and probably on the planet.

  He’d even written two books on the subject. The last Dix had heard, the guy was still actively patrolling the Caribbean as a Coast Guard Commander and pushing the Deepwater Project. Dix idolized Calhoun and had read his books to give him an edge when he interviewed for the narcotics task force.

  Snead interrupted his thoughts. “I thought the whole thing stank to high heaven, so I dug a little deeper. Turns out, any and all records for Jim Calhoun’s daughter were wiped clear off the face of the earth the day after her body was found. The techies say they aren’t sure how this was done, but they’re having fun trying to figure it out.”

  Dix whistled. “Man, how weird. Calhoun is so by-the-book, it’s hard to even consider he might have had something to do with his ex son-in-law’s death.”

  “I agree. There’s absolutely no way he could have been involved. I don’t think a man like that gets where he is to just throw it all away with something stupid like that.”

  “I’ve heard fathers sometimes go berserk when their children die, especially when they are murdered.” Dix thought what he might be capable of doing if someone ever hurt his two children.

  “Can you blame them?”

  “I guess not. But, I don’t think I’d go that far.” Dix thought about his son and daughter. He decided he probably would kill someone if they harmed his kids.

  “You can’t say what you’d do in those circumstances. Anyway, I think it’s time you guys let the locals in on this whole situation. It’s getting worse by the minute, and people keep dying. I thought you guys were on vacation.”

  “You’re right. In fact, the cops are on the way. I can hear the sirens.”

  Snead was sassy as ever. “You know I’m right.”

  Dix thought their conversation was over.

  But Snead added, “Now that the sniper is dead, what are you going to do about his confession?”

  “Why does it matter?”

  “I think the victims’ families might like closure.”

  Dix replied, “We took care of that. The local guy said he’d make sure they knew the truth.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got things under some sort of control for now. If I hear back from the computer junkies, I’ll let you know.”

  “I appreciate all your help so far.” The line went dead, and Dix hung up.

  Dix decided it was time to notify the police about the coordinates of Gray Ghost. It would be easier to examine out of the water, and the Caller might come looking for his lost load. If he does, we can nail the bastard. I bet he won’t let one hundred million dollars go easily.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Jim Calhoun had just gotten off the phone after formally requesting to take the next two weeks off. He’d used family issues as the reason and pretended to be upset. His supervisor had wished him well and told him to take as much time as he needed. Then he placed another call. “Prepare to copy.”

  “Go ahead,” the voice replied.

  “Get the Learjet fueled and loaded. Untraceable weapons, secure communications, and the proper paperwork for secured entry into the Bahamas.”

  “Copy. What else?”

  “There must be no mistakes and no connection with the operation. Whatever it costs to keep this quiet, I’m willing to pay.”

  “Copy. Any other resources you think will be helpful?”

  “Not unless you can find Thomas.”

  “I haven’t heard from him. No request for a fund transfer.”

  “That’s what I figured.”

  Calhoun assumed Thomas was either AWOL, dead or captured. The sniper knew nothing to connect the operation to Calhoun. But, if he could confirm Thomas had been captured, he’d make sure the mercenary was killed.

  “Do you need assistance?” asked the voice.

  “This could get ugly if we don’t locate him soon. Prepare my other resources for quick departure. If things get hot, I’ll shut everything down. We won’t do business again. Ever.” Calhoun’s voice reflected his anger.

  “You’ve had a good run, sir. Once everything’s taken care of here, I might be useful in the field.”

  Calhoun hesitated. “I agree. You’ll come along to fly us out of the hot zone when it’s over.”

  “Got it. I’ll be ready for departure at zero dark five tomorrow.”

  Calhoun sighed. “Zero dark five it is. Change the location to the alternate point B for departure.”

  “Roger that.”

  Calhoun knew he didn’t have to tell his son how important this operation was. No one even knew about his son’s existence. The kid was the product of a liaison with a woman on Andros Island who had died in childbirth. He had paid anonymously to have the boy raised by a local family there, and only contacted the kid when he was grown.

  The Coast Guard commander began to plan how they’d retrieve the hundred million dollar cargo without being apprehended so they could spend the rest of their lives in complete luxury.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  As they waited for the police to arrive, Roger said, “We should let them know we found this guy’s gear including the GPS with the coordinates for the boat.”

  Petersen shook his head. “They might get pissed that we went through their crime scene. No cop likes that.”

  Dix, who’d rejoined them after his call, made another suggestion. “I think we should lead them to the coordinates. Roger can remind them the boat Sean and Preston were on hasn’t been found. They may decide to check the GPS if we give it to them.”

  “You think we should let them find the boat and all the cocaine?” asked Roger.

  Petersen nodded and Dix said, “Yes. It makes sense to let them have the credit for locating the boat. They have the equipment to raise it. Besides, it’s really their case.”

  “Yes, but their storage yard is burglarized all the time. Local kids climb over the fence and take what they want.” Roger threw up his hands.

  Dix heard the sirens growing louder. “You want to hear what I’m thinking? We have a lot of good information about this Caller guy, but not much to nail him with. Even if we knew who he was, I’m not sure we’d be able to get a search warrant or arrest warrant for him.”

  “What about a trap?” suggested Petersen.

  “Exactly. If the storage facility isn’t secure, we could work with the locals, and maybe the Coast Guard and U.
S. Navy, to set a trap. Maybe the Coast Guard would even lend us Jim Calhoun for the investigation.”

  As he finished his statement, two police vans skidded to a stop in front of the house. Roger pointed them to the body. Everyone had their hands in the air. A senior officer rushed to the body and quickly pronounced Thomas dead.

  Another officer took the rifle near Roger’s feet and began to question him while others converged on the area around the body. Dix recognized one of the officers as one he had seen at the airport when he arrived on the island. A few minutes later, the officer’s voice rang out. “What the hell was a sniper doing here on Andros?” His voice carried, so the rest of the cops stopped what they were doing. He pointed at Dix and Petersen. “And why are these guys here?”

  Dix and Petersen looked at each other and shrugged.

  Roger spoke. “I invited these two fishermen to try my special rolls.” Then he pointed to the sniper’s belongings he’d taken from the chest pockets. “I took that stuff out after he was dead.”

  The officer looked angry. “Why’d you do that?”

  Roger remained cool. “I started CPR on him, but it didn’t work. I had to take the stuff out to do the compressions.”

  Dix thought, good call, Roger.

  “Then your prints will be on the items, correct?

  “Yes.”

  One of the other guys stepped forward and pointed at the three men. “Do you want me to print all of them?”

  The senior officer said, “That won’t be necessary.” He pointed at Roger. “I booked him when he was a kid after he had a little too much to drink one night. His prints are already on file.”

  For the next hour or so, Roger, Dix, and Petersen skillfully directed the officers to the information they’d already learned. The local guys required little prompting and quickly connected Thomas to the deaths of Sean and Preston.

  The officers told everyone at Roger’s house not to leave the island, and the lead officer gave Petersen and Dix his business card. “You guys think of anything we missed, don’t hesitate to call me.”

  Dix and Petersen looked sincere and said in unison, “You bet.” The local officers left as they wheeled Thomas’s body to the van. Everyone except Dix went inside Roger’s home.