Mystery of the 19th Hole (Taylor Kelsey, Mystery 1)

by Diaz, AJ

  “I’m next.”

  Another gunshot! This one tore into the golf-cart’s roof. Plastic splinters rained down, dousing Taylor, Susan, and the floor of the vehicle. Taylor got one in her eye and immediately blinked her eye shut and tried to rub it out.

  Boom! Boom!

  Two more shots. One hand on the wheel and one on her eye, Taylor accidentally jerked the wheel, and the golf cart shot left. She instinctively spun it back, and they made a precarious turn back to the middle of the fairway.

  Jim was looking through his sights again. Directly at Taylor.

  While he was looking at her, she smiled. His finger started to pull the trigger when his cart dropped down a hill and rumbled over a creek, ruining his aim. He pulled in his gun and grabbed a shaft on the cart for support.

  Taylor bounded through the creek while Susan muttered complaints. Now Jim was looking through his sights again. His finger was on the trigger. Taylor smiled again. He turned to see what it was she was smiling at this time. Before him was nothing but a level fairway. He looked around some more just to make sure.

  Now Taylor was really smiling. She’d tricked him. Susan knew it, too. “Now you’ve probably made him even angrier. Great.”

  “They say you have bad aim when you’re mad.”

  “Who says?!”

  Jim turned about angrily and started firing like a mad man. “He’s trigger happy now, see,” said Taylor. She remained driving straight as bullets flew by, missing terribly. Jim reloaded his gun, turned about, and aimed.

  “He’s back to aiming,” said Susan.

  Taylor started zigzagging the cart. Her hands alternated on the wheel one way, then the next, then the opposite. Jim’s gun blasted. She was still zigzagging and could literally hear the bullet whiz past her head on the left side. “Okay, now I’m a little scared.”

  “Now?” shouted Susan.

  “Yes, now.”

  “Why not, say, five minutes ago?”

  Taylor didn’t answer.

  Jack hung a sharp right, rolled over a green, and traversed another fairway. Taylor immediately turned and did the same, now riding parallel to him, but still about one hundred feet away. Turning the wheel slightly, she started to close the gap.

  Jack crossed the fairway and started up the steep mountainside that lined the golf course. The path he took was grassy. Dense trees lined both sides. Taylor hit the hill, and the cart’s high-pitched engine started humming low tunes. It also slowed considerably. As did Jack’s.

  The battery in Jack’s cart must have been low, for Taylor and Susan were catching him. Fifty-feet. Taylor pushed against her seat and kept the pedal to the floor. Her leg was getting tired and hurting. Susan was still gripping the shaft.

  Jim turned all the way around in his seat and stood on his knees. He gripped the gun with both hands. The carts were going slower, the hill was smooth for the most part, and they were closer together. Taylor screamed.

  The sound of a gunshot pierced the air. Smack! It hit the front of their cart and splintered the plastic. Suddenly, their engine started alternating tunes and finally died with a decreasing whistle. Taylor kicked down the parking break.

  Jim’s arm cocked with another shot. Taylor and Susan ducked, and the bullet missed completely. While ducked, they scrambled out of the cart and hid behind it. Popping their heads over the back, they watched Jack’s cart crest the hill and start down the other side.

  Then they heard Jim scream. Then nothing.

  Chapter 22 After a few quiet minutes passed, Taylor and Susan decided to see what happened to Jack and Jim. It took a minute to run up the hill, and by the time the girls reached the top they were panting. Immediately, they saw why Jim had screamed. Just over the crest was a cliff. It gave way to a thousand-foot drop into the ocean.

  Taylor tentatively approached the cliff and peered over the top. Jack Cadell and his cart were at the bottom, floating next to a group of rocks. The cart was broken to pieces, and Jack was dead.

  Susan looked over as well. “Where’s Jim?”

  Taylor tried to find his body among the ruins below. “Maybe he sunk.”

  Screaming, Susan pushed Taylor to the floor. A gunshot sounded! Taylor started tumbling down the hill back toward the golf course. While spinning, she saw Jim; he was behind a tree, gun extended. He must have jumped out of the cart before it went over. Susan started after Taylor but tripped and started flipping and rolling alongside her.

  Now they were both screaming, and gunshots were going off behind them like fireworks in July. Jim was standing at the top of the hill, one arm steadying the other, and firing with dangerous accuracy. Bullets tore into the ground beside the girls as they flipped down the hill.

  Then the girls accidentally mixed and through a series of weird twists came to a sliding stop on the grassy path. Taylor’s world was spinning, but she could see the golf cart about twenty feet to her left. Standing on wobbling legs, zigzagging and staggering in every direction, she made her way to the cart, Susan following clumsily.

  “Wait, Taylor, it’s broken.”

  Taylor didn’t speak. She just climbed into her seat. The gunshots had stopped during all this. Taylor figured Jim was reloading. Susan grabbed a shaft on the back of the cart to steady herself. And after a short moment of peace, the gunshots started again, and Jim was running down the hill to get a closer shot.

  Taylor knew Susan was behind the cart but couldn’t wait any longer. “Hold on.” She released the parking brake and the cart started rolling backward, down the hill. Susan swung her feet onto the back of the golf cart where the bags were supposed to go. She gripped the shafts on either side and screamed. Since she was facing backward, she could see the bottom of the hill closing in fast. “Don’t flip us, Taylor!”

  Taylor looked over her shoulder while trying to navigate the cart down the hill. They were going at a dangerous pace. The gunshots didn’t seem so scary at the moment as she tried to keep the cart from flipping. Taylor could picture the headlines already: “The Girls that Survived Car Crash off Mammoth Peak Die in a Fluke Golf Cart Accident.”

  Lovely.

  The gunshots stopped, and Taylor looked up to see Jim watching them in amusement. He stepped forward, tripped over a root, and started rolling and flipping down the hill. His finger slipped on the trigger, and the gun shot.

  Susan watched as their cart met the bottom of the hill. The cart took it gently, rolled through, and came to a ginger stop. Releasing her grip on the cart, Susan fell to the floor and took a few deep breaths.

  Taylor was already walking by. “C’mon, we need to get to the police.”

  Susan watched as Taylor fast-walked away as if nothing had happened. “You’re crazy! What about Jim?”

  “He accidentally shot himself.”

  Susan turned to see Jim on the floor at the bottom of the hill. He was on his back and bleeding from the leg. Breathing.

  “He’ll be okay,” said Taylor, “we’ll tell the police about him.”

  “I’d sure hate to be shot in the leg. Ouch,” said Susan.

  They started running for the front of the golf course. Susan had called the lieutenant, and they expected him to arrive with a host of police any moment now. They needed to brief him on everything.

  “So is everything okay, now? I mean, no more high speed chases or gun shots, right?” asked Susan.

  “Yeah.” But Taylor had a bad feeling. She’d solved the case, but she knew she was missing something. Something important. Something sinister.

  Chad closed his laptop. He was still in Taylor’s car. Still afraid of golf courses. But it was time to man up, he told himself. Time to impress Taylor. Then he realized how lame he was for thinking it was impressive to step into a golf course’s parking lot.

  Clutching his laptop by his side, he stepped out of the car. He nearly jumped back in out of fear. Sweat was forming on his forehead, but he shut the car door with resolve. Frozen, he watched as a Dodge Charger sped into the parking lot and came to a
screeching stop in front of the clubhouse. Lieutenant Arterman stepped out.

  Pulling himself together, Chad ran across the parking lot to Jeff.

  “Hey, Lieutenant, it’s me Chad.”

  Jeff spun around. “Where are Taylor and Susan?”

  “Golfing, why?”

  “They called in about some kind of emergency.”

  “I don’t know,” said Chad. “I wasn’t with them, I—”

  A loud shriek followed by gunshots turned their heads. A brown car zoomed into the parking lot, guns poking out of every window. “Run!” yelled Jeff, grabbing Chad’s arm. Guns trumped golf courses in Chad’s mind, and he willingly followed.

  They started for the clubhouse entrance, but bullets punctured holes into the glass doors. Nearly tripping, Jeff yanked Chad to the left and they started for the side of the clubhouse. Diving behind the side of the building, Chad watched as gunshots tore into the corner of the wall.

  Jeff lifted Chad to his feet, and they set off for the first hole.

  Behind them, the men in the brown car piled out and thundered their way around the corner of the building. Five of them. They turned the corner with their guns lifted. A trigger-happy one released a few shots though he didn’t see anything. “Over there! Over there!” The shouting one jabbed his finger toward the first hole, and they launched themselves that direction like an army platoon.

  Gunshots started roaring behind Jeff and Chad. They were in the middle of the fairway, exposed. Jeff knew it was bad to be exposed, but he didn’t have any other ideas. To his right was a cluttered stand of trees. Yanking Chad’s arm, he pulled them into it. Bullets whizzed through the branches and splintered trunks.

  “Lieutenant, Lieutenant!” someone was yelling.

  Jeff looked behind him to see Taylor and Susan slowly running to the trees. They were sweating and panting. “Are you guys okay?”

  “Luckily,” said Susan, now speaking in an English accent because the lieutenant still didn’t know she wasn’t. “What’s the problem here?”

  The sound of more gunshots answered her question.

  “I solved the case,” said Taylor. “This is what happened—”

  “Not now,” said Jeff. “Go get help.”

  “Why don’t you just call it in?”

  “Captain won’t let me. Now hurry.”

  Taylor and Susan darted far away and in the opposite direction from Jeff to stay clear of the gun-wielding gang. Chad stayed with Jeff. “Go!” yelled the lieutenant.

  “No, I can help. I got a few gadgets with me.”

  “A few what?”

  Chad pulled a concussion grenade from a modified Sam Browne police belt he was wearing under his shirt. “See what I mean.”

  “You have concussions?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Nice.”

  Taylor and Susan were pounding down the turf in a tired run back to the parking lot. Susan was already on the phone with 911, and they were patching her through to the police. The dispatcher was very slow, however. “Why do we have to get the newbie?” grumbled Susan.

  They finally reached the parking lot. Taylor pulled her keys from her pocket when yet another car screeched into the lot. A police cruiser. It pulled right beside Taylor and Susan, and the driver was pointing a gun at them. He was also wearing a mask.

  He threw open his door, jumped out, and in quick movements threw a screaming Taylor into the backseat. Susan clawed, fought, and screamed. He tried to level his gun but only managed to get off a low shot. The bullet hit Susan’s leg, and she toppled over in a faint.

  The man was about to pick her up and shove her in the cruiser when a girl one-hundred paces off screamed, “Hey.” Instinctively, the man jumped into the car and sped out the lot, turned left, and disappeared down the road.

  Chapter 23 Bullets were thrashing through the cluster of trees and coming uncomfortably close the Jeff and Chad. “We’ve got to move,” the lieutenant conceded, pulling a gun from under his sports coat.

  “Move where?” yelled Chad, trying to speak over the gunshots, which were nearing and splitting the air like stabs of lightning.

  “Uh… How about a sand bunker?”

  “Okay.” Chad was looking around frantically. “There’s a small one behind that next hole.”

  “Good enough. Hand me the concussion grenade.” What we could really use is a smoke grenade, Jeff thought as he put out his hand.

  Chad pulled the pin off the grenade, jumped out of the trees, and threw it toward the men.

  “Or throw it yourself,” muttered Jeff.

  Boom! The grenade exploded, dizzying the men. Jeff and Chad ran for the end of the fairway. It was only seconds later when the gunshots started up again, though only two of the men were shooting, for the rest were still dazed.

  It wouldn’t be long before the others recovered.

  When the gunshots finally increased, Jeff and Chad were already on the green. Chad dove headlong into the pit, and Jeff threw himself down and rolled into it.

  Turf blasted up in a spot he’d just rolled away from. “That was close.”

  “You’re telling me,” said Chad.

  The lieutenant was bobbing up and down now, firing shots and trying to evade fire.

  Chad flipped open his computer.

  “What are you doing?” asked the lieutenant.

  “I’m patching into the golf course’s security cameras to see the men. That way you can blind fire with use of the camera.”

  “Can you do that?”

  “Blind fire? I’ve never shot a gun before.”

  “No,” said Jeff, “not blind fire. Patch into cameras. You can do that?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Legally?”

  Chad stared up at Jeff for an awkward moment. A bullet ripped into some turf nearby, and Chad started typing into his computer. “Almost got it…”

  “I think they’re getting closer,” yelled Jeff.

  “Why do you say that?”

  Jeff popped his head over the hill, quickly ducked back down, and rested against the bank of the bunker. “Because they’re getting closer.”

  “I’m almost finished. By the way, how long do you need to hold them off before we can run away?”

  “Until Taylor and Susan come back with help. But you’re free to go at anytime.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” After some more typing, Chad smiled. “I’m in the system.”

  Abby Adamson had watched as Susan tumbled to the floor, shot in the leg. She had also watched as the man in the mask kidnapped Taylor and sped out of the parking lot. Turned left.

  She acted on instinct and immediately darted into the clubhouse. “Dad! Dad!”

  Her dad popped up from behind the counter, a terrified look on his face. Abby spoke fast, “A girl got shot in the leg outside! You need to help her. I’ve got to go after Taylor.” Without another word, Abby took off running.

  Mike looked outside. Satisfied the gang of gunners was gone, he grabbed a first aid kit and ran to Susan’s side. He knew what he was doing, for he was a retired firefighter. Fortunately, the bullet merely clipped the side of her leg instead of going through it. Albeit the wound was large. Susan was still passed out.

  During all this, Abby had gotten in her car and turned left out of the parking lot, going the same way Taylor had been taken in the police car. She sped and passed cars on the two-lane road until she caught up with the police cruiser. The cruiser was going slow, probably trying to avoid unwanted attention. She slowed as well.

  Taylor gave up banging on her door. It was a police car, designed to harbor criminals. In other words: no use. “What are you doing? Where are you taking me?” Taylor screamed.

  The masked man just sat in silence for some time. Finally, he pulled off his mask and set it on the passenger seat, turned around. Taylor gasped. It was the captain of the police. “Captain Tony Hamell! You’re in on it!” She’d solved the case already, but this was a new revelation. Now she new why she’d fe
lt uneasy. There was a mole in the police department!

  “So you shot Billy?”

  “Yes.”

  “You were in on it all along.”

  The captain looked into the rear-view mirror. “So you did solve the case.”

  “Yes I did,” said Taylor.

  “I thought you already knew about me. That’s the only reason I grabbed you. I guess I’ll still have to kill you now that you know.”

  Taylor fell quiet and looked out her window. What could she do? She’d solved the case, but that wasn’t of any importance now. Susan had been shot in the leg. Jeff and Chad were holding off the ring of robbers. And the ringleader himself was Captain Tony Hamell of the Formstaw police.

  Add to all that she was wearing yellow.

  But that was the last thing on her mind.

  Deep in thought, she wasn’t paying attention to her surroundings; but when the car transitioned onto a dirt road, she looked around. They started passing through eucalyptus trees. The trees were spaced apart and sunlight pervaded the area. The road and surrounding ground was soft dirt.

  And they continued, deeper and deeper.

  Dust rose up all about them. The car was moving slower over the bumps. Turning a bend, Taylor could see where they were headed. The ocean. When they came out of the trees and into the open she saw a house. The house was floating on the water. A house on a dock. She’d seen one before in a television show.

  The cruiser pulled to a slow stop just before the house. Taylor looked through the back window, but the dirt road they’d just come from was pitifully barren of rescue cars. A horrifying feeling rose up in her gut.

  Her door opened and the dishonorable captain yanked her out and pushed her forward. He had a gun trained on her head. “Go in the house.”

  Chapter 24 Abby had followed the police car to the dirt road before letting it get ahead, so as not to be obvious that she was following. After the car had turned the first bend, she started after it. She had stayed one bend behind the entire time.

  Now she was out of the car, hiding behind a tree and watching the police captain—of all people!—push Taylor into the house on the water. She knew that this is where he was going to kill her: far away, out of sight, in an old, abandoned house on a dock. Abby herself had been in the house once before because of a dare. It was mostly just wood inside. Some old furniture.