Murder on the Front Nine

by Steve McMillen

  “You know Barry, you may have ended that investigation but I no longer work for SIL. I’m working for another client now and I’m guessing you don’t want me to continue looking into Mr. Byers’ death, is that correct?”

  The sky is getting darker and the echo in the phone becomes louder.

  “I thought you determined that Paul Hills was the assassin?” He replies.

  “No, I only determined that Paul was at the scene of the plane explosion and since he ran at the golf course, he is probably the assassin. If he is the killer, my client wants to know who hired him to kill Trever Byers.”

  I hear a noise below my deck in the back yard. I see nothing but something primal in my brain sets off alarms. I am now sitting in the dark and no one is on the other end of the phone. The night creatures suddenly go quiet, as if a larger, more dangerous predator is on the move. I hear footsteps on the stairs leading up to my deck. My calmness not only is gone, it has turned to fear. I fight a spasm of panic and the demons begin to appear. I push them aside. I have no weapon, I’m half naked, and whoever is on the stairs will get to the top before I can get up and cross the deck to get inside.

  I figure I know who it is, so I call out, “Hey, Barry, why not just knock on my door instead of calling to get me outside?”

  I remember telling the fellows when they were here to play golf that I had little to no reception inside my house; that I had to go out on the deck to get clear reception. I guess he remembered.

  I see a dark figure come quickly up the stairs and move between the door and me. He is dressed all in black. I know that by the way he moves that it is Barry. He has a gun with a silencer pointed at me.

  “Get up Mickke D, turn around, and walk backwards towards me with your hands in the air.”

  I do as he tells me. “Stop and turn around. Keep your hands in the air.”

  I am about six feet away from him. He pulls off his ski mask. I look him straight in the eyes. His eyes shine with rancor and malice. It is like looking into the eyes of a rabid animal. I am not looking at the same Barry I knew fifteen years ago. A sick feeling clutches my gut. I will myself to show no fear, to get rid of the demons, but the gravity of the situation begins to press down on me.

  “Okay Bill,” he calls out, “come on up and check him for weapons.”

  I hear footsteps coming up the steps on the other side of my deck. I start to turn but at my first movement, Barry slams his left fist into my face. It is so quick and in the darkness, I never see it coming. I go down hard.

  “Did I tell you to look away?” He bends over and yells in my face.

  Bill helps me to my feet and I can feel and taste the acrid tang of blood dripping from my broken nose. Bill does his search, finds no weapons and steps back behind me.

  “So I guess this means SIL hired Paul Hills to kill Trever Byers?” I say between drops of blood oozing into my mouth.

  “That’s right, but that information will not help you now. You’ve sold your last house, planted your last tree and given your last golf lesson.”

  Now there is a big difference between thinking you are going to die and knowing you are going to die. If you think there is a chance you may survive, you are not going to take nearly as many chances as when you know this is it.

  As former Special Forces, I trained for action, for a more proactive means of defense. Well, I figure this is it, but right now, I can think of no way out except for a miracle or divine intervention. Since I have never been a staunch religious person, I figure the last option is probably not on the table. Therefore, except for the miracle, I guess I am finally going to find out if there is a heaven or a hell or just plain nothing. At least my ex-wives will not be bugging me anymore and the demons will be gone.

  I can sense and hear Bill move to the side but still behind me. I learned my lesson; I do not turn to look this time. I guess he does not want to be in the way if the bullet goes all the way through me. Barry takes a step backward and I cannot see but I hear him cock his weapon. I hear Bill do the same thing.

  I notice a slight smirk on Barry’s face, which I remember happens just before he makes his move in a martial arts event. My mind quickly comes up with a possible way out.

  I am looking directly into Barry’s eyes, almost daring him to pull the trigger. I figure that if I fall down and sweep at Barry’s legs with my leg, it may cause enough diversion so that one of them may shoot the other one. Then I will only have to deal with the one still standing. My body tenses to make my move. I figure it is my last chance to survive.

  All of a sudden, I notice the slightest shift of Barry’s eyes and gun to where Bill is standing behind me. The smirk on Barry’s face disappears and his eyes deaden from pain and shock. He actually hears the mute sound of Bill’s weapon, feels his body recoil backward and then the world as he knows it is gone.

  I also hear the sound of Bill’s weapon and I feel the heat as the bullet whizzes by my ear. Barry’s weapon fires as he is falling; the bullet hits the deck, stinging my leg with a spray of wooden splinters.

  I turn and look at Bill, also dressed entirely in black. He has just killed his best friend and saved my life. However, there is still a problem. Bill has his weapon pointed right at me. He pulls off his ski mask, smiles, and then he reaches out with his gloved hand, unscrews the silencer from his weapon, and fires the gun in the air.

  “You’re lucky, Mickke D, I guess I trust you more than I did him,” he says softly.

  With his gloved hand, he tosses the gun to me and instinctively I catch it. Now the gun has my fingerprints on it.

  “I guess you and Barry had a shootout and Barry lost. Do you want me to get his gun and shoot you in the arm or leg to make it look good?”

  “That’s okay, Bill, I have a bloody nose and a bloody leg already. If you were planning to shoot him, why didn’t you do it before he hit me?”

  He laughs, “It was a last-minute decision.”

  “Who besides Barry wanted me dead?” I ask, still stunned.

  “Someone put a contract out on you, and that was all Barry needed to do away with you, he was just looking for an excuse. You were asking too many questions.”

  “Who sanctioned the contract?”

  “If I were you I would check out Dean Rutland in Senator Brazile’s office. You owe me one Mickke D, I was never here,” Bill says as he puts one hand on the railing, nimbly jumping over and disappearing into the night.

  “You’re right, I owe you one,” I call out as I watch his dark figure glide across the fairway and disappear into the woods. With his training and background, he could survive in those woods for months, if he wanted to, and no one would ever know he was there.

  I hear sirens coming my way so I go inside and turn on my deck lights. As I come back outside, I hear footsteps coming up the back stairs, the same stairs that Barry had just come up. It is Jimmy. He has a huge gun in his hand. It has to have a 7-or 8-inch barrel on it.

  “What the hell is going on? I heard a gunshot,” Jimmy calls out just seconds before he reaches the top of the stairs and notices Barry’s lifeless body bleeding all over my deck.

  Before I have a chance to answer, he continues, “Is that guy dead? Are you okay? You don’t look very good. Nice boxers.”

  I suppose he notices my bloody face, crooked nose, and bloody leg.

  I answer, “I’m fine. I suppose you could say, he won the battle but I won the war. The police are on their way, I would get rid of that small cannon before they get here. What is that thing?”

  “I told you mine was bigger than yours. It’s a 44 Super Blackhawk with a 7 ½-inch barrel,” Jimmy says as he places his weapon in the small of his back and covers it with his shirt.

  The sirens stop but I can see the reflections of the blue and red lights on my neighbor’s house and I can hear Blue barking his head off. The police have arrived. Car doors slam and I hear footsteps running around the side of my house towards the deck.

  I call out, “No need to rush, it’
s over.”

  I place the gun on the patio table and I lean against the railing next to Jimmy who is trying to act nonchalant with a cannon stuck down the crack of his ass.

  Detective Sam Concile and two officers come onto the deck. The officers look familiar. It is Doan and Dunn from my encounter with the carpenter. It is nice to see familiar faces when you have a dead person on your deck.

  Detective Sam speaks first, “Nice boxers, but Christmas is a long time away. Would you mind putting on some clothes?”

  I go inside, put on some shorts and return to the deck.

  “So Mickke D, what do we have here?”

  “That, Detective Concile, is a dead man who tried to kill me.”

  “And do you know who the dead man is?” She slowly asks.

  “Yes ma’am, it is one of my army buddies from the golf trip and the plane explosion.”

  “And why was he trying to kill you and by the way, you look terrible. Are you okay?”

  I’m starting to get a complex. Do I really look that bad?

  I am about to answer when the EMTs rush onto the deck. They go over to Barry, feel for a pulse, find none, pronounce him dead, and call the coroner. They look at me and ask if I need some help. Man, I need a mirror.

  “Well, you can straighten my nose if you want to. I can feel it is not located where it should be.”

  One of the EMTs puts on new gloves and with a quick yank, puts my nose back in place. I tell him thanks and that I will take care of the cleanup.

  “So again, why was this guy trying to kill you? And who the hell are you?” Detective Concile asks, looking directly at Jimmy.

  He gets that look on his face like, who me? “I live next door and heard a gunshot. I came over to see what was going on.”

  “And you who live next door, do you have a name?”

  “Oh, sorry detective, I’m Jimmy Bolin.”

  Officer Dunn chirps in, “We were out here not too long ago on a disturbance call. I have his info on record.”

  “And what was the disturbance call all about, Officer Dunn?”

  “It seems some guys working in the area had too much to drink for lunch, made a wrong turn and ended up down here. These two guys defused the problem before we got here.”

  “This guy isn’t one of those guys?” She points to Barry.

  “No ma’am, he isn’t.”

  “Is that the murder weapon?” she asks, looking at Bill’s gun on my patio table.

  “No, that’s the self-defense weapon.”

  “Is that your gun, Mickke D, and is it registered?” Her voice has a much sterner tone.

  This line of questioning is not helping the fact that my head is beginning to throb. I need to answer so that I don’t get Bill involved and keep myself out of trouble.

  “Yes, it is my gun and no, it is not registered.”

  “And why is it not registered?”

  I think and answer quickly, “It was actually given to me as a gift by the guys when they came down to play golf and I just haven’t gotten around to getting it registered yet.”

  “So it should be registered in the name of one of your Army buddies, is that right?”

  “Yes ma’am, if they registered it. But I wouldn’t bet a whole lot of money on that.”

  “So tell me, Mickke D, what happened here this evening? Why is this person dead? And Mr. Bolin, you may leave, but give your phone number to Officer Dunn, we may want to talk to you later.”

  “Thank you detective.”

  Jimmy walks over to Officer Dunn, gives him his number and exits slowly down the back stairs; too quickly and that cannon is going to hurt.

  I tell Detective Concile that Barry came here and we got into an altercation over a murder investigation I was looking into and he tried to kill me. I explain it was pure self-defense. I tell her to look at the way he is dressed, all in black, a black ski mask and a weapon with a silencer. He wasn’t here to play poker or barbecue.

  She puts on a pair of gloves, walks over, and picks up the weapon from the patio table. She releases the clip, clears the slide, and states, “There are two bullets missing and our 911 caller said they heard one gunshot and Mr. Bolin just stated that he heard a gunshot.”

  “I don’t know, I guess I did not load the clip completely.”

  “I find that hard to believe from a person with your background.”

  “I suppose when I was loading the clip, I wasn’t really planning to use it.”

  She then asks, “I can understand why the dead guy had a gun but why did you have a weapon out here on the deck?”

  “I thought I heard some strange noises while I was in the house, so I came out prepared for the worse.”

  I’m not sure she believes me. She asks several more questions, the coroner arrives, takes the body, and everyone departs. Before she leaves, she tells me not to leave town and that someone will call me to set up an interview.

  Chapter 44: The trip to Little River

  (Earlier)

  There is not a lot of conversation between Barry and Bill on the trip from Culpepper to Little River. The silence is both comfortable and awkward.

  Barry has rented a non-descript pick-up truck using a fake ID and cash and changes the license plates once they get out of the city. He received a call from Dean Rutland four days earlier that Mickke D is making waves, big waves. Dean tells Barry there is fifty thousand available if he can make the problem go away. Barry tells Dean to consider the problem taken care of.

  He has been looking for a reason to eliminate Mickke D for a long time and now he has one, a cash contract.

  Barry is the type of person who has to be in control. He was in control of Bill and Ted until Bill invited Mickke D to join their golf group. From that point forward until they left the army, when Mickke D was around, Barry did not feel in control.

  Mickke D just seemed to irritate him at every turn. He just always seemed to have a better idea or a better plan. He always beat Barry on the PT course, at the firing range and on the running track. He always beat Barry on the golf course by pulling off an incredible shot or making a long putt on the last hole.

  Moreover, of course, Bill and Ted loved it. They just ate it up. They would ride Barry for days after another Mickke D victory. The only thing Barry excelled in over Mickke D was martial arts and Mickke D was too smart to get in the ring with him, so actually he won that also.

  Barry only hired Mickke D to find the assassin because he did not think he would succeed, that he would fail or the assassin would kill him. Within a week, he found the killer. He had won again and now he is zeroing in on SIL and Dean Rutland. If he gets to Dean, he may find someone higher up the ladder and Dean has let him know higher up is not good.

  Barry is looking forward to this job and he makes a mental note to take Mickke D out of his will when he gets back to Culpepper.

  Bill finally breaks the silence. “How do you want to handle this?”

  Barry does not answer for about a minute; Bill can tell he is in planning mode. In special ops, planning the operation is the most important part of the mission.

  “Remember when Mickke D told us that he has poor cell phone reception in his house? I am going to lure him out onto his deck around dark and hopefully without a weapon. We go in all black and with silencers. I am going up the back stairs and when I call, you come up the side stairs. I will take the kill shot. You are backup. Do you have any questions?”

  Bill shakes his head negatively. Short and to the point, that is how Barry operates. Do not make it complicated.

  However, that is not the plan Barry is really planning to execute. This is his chance to get rid of Mickke D and Bill at the same time. His plan is to shoot Bill first because he will be the only other person, hopefully, with a weapon. He will take Bill’s weapon and shoot Mickke D. Next, he will take the weapon he used to shoot Bill and put it in Mickke D’s hand. It will appear as if they shot each other and by the time they find the bodies, Barry will be back in Culpeppe
r. Problem solved. Then there will be only one person who knows about the assassination of Trever Byers: Dean Rutland.

  Bill has listened to Barry’s plan and thinks, yeah right! He closes his eyes and smiles to himself. However, he is not thinking about Barry’s plan; he is formatting a plan of his own. He realizes that Barry has not been himself lately and that he is not thinking rationally. Since the assassination, Barry’s demeanor has changed significantly and the attempt on his life in the office parking lot seems to have pushed him over the edge. Bill has this gut feeling that Barry is planning to do away with him as well as Mickke D. He came prepared.

  He goes into survival mode. It is now time to fish or cut bait. He cultivates a plan of action with two or more scenarios, depending on the situation.

  As Bill crosses the fairway behind Mickke D’s house, he knows exactly where he is going and what he is going to do. He figures Mickke D will not tell the police about him because he has just saved his life. Therefore, no one, including the police, will be searching for him. However, he still does not want possible witnesses to see him.

  He crosses the fairway into the woods, cuts across the ninth fairway at Eagles Nest and into the golf course parking lot where they left the pick-up. He gets his backpack out, takes off the black night gear and places it in the backpack. He puts on a reversible sweatshirt and his reversible floppy hat pulled down over his silver-gray hair. He wipes down every area in the truck he may have touched and checks the vehicle for any evidence that he was there. Finding none, he locks the door and takes off at a slow jog toward Highway 17.

  He gets about halfway down the road when he sees headlights turn onto the road and come his way. He ducks into the woods and lets the car pass before he continues. He does not want a routine nightly police patrol to spot him or to have anyone see him along the road. He reaches the end of the road and stops at Rickey’s Dockside Bar. When he and Barry came up 17 and turned to go to the parking lot at Eagles Nest, there were only two cars at the bar. Now there are two cars and about ten Harleys sitting in the parking area.