by James Ross
A sense of relief overwhelmed George. He could not forget the events of that night. The fog had been blinding. The approaching car made everyone’s heart pound. The stashing of the body into the back of the station wagon was a knee-jerk reaction.
The four guys were drunk. They sped through the murky haze at speeds that could have instantly killed all of them. Walter had suggested a wooded area for them to find. They clawed and scrambled to dig a shallow grave. All of them were covered in mud.
The expressionless face on the black hooker was etched in his memory. The gold-capped front tooth stuck out like a nugget in the sand at Sutter’s mill. Yet they threw the body into the hole. The makeshift grave was covered with leaves and broken limbs.
George had spent many nights waking up in a cold sweat. He never knew if an animal would uncover a bone or an article of clothing would tip off an intruder. The night was forever carved into his memory. It seemed like only yesterday, but in reality much of his adult life had passed.
“The remains were barbecued,” Lew said with a sinister smirk plastered across his face.
“No traces left?”
Lew shook his head. “Gasoline makes for a hot fire.”
“Everything’s gone?”
Lew nodded. “Except for what I just showed you.”
“Good. Now I’ll sleep better.”
“I doubt if you worried about it too many nights over here,” Lew replied. “But I do think that it’s time for your brother to buy the property.”
“Norman’s been chomping at the bit for that ground.”
“It’s nice cash flow. He better be ready for it,” Lew countered.
“You know what our deal was,” George said in an effort to jog his memory.
George and Norman had been partners in FARMBELT ABSTRACT AND TITLE COMPANY. The Pierce brothers would do anything to get ahead. After George closed several deals with the Morton Estate, the partners closed the offices of the title company and George fled the country. Norman stayed behind to develop land and build homes.
“A deal is a deal. I’ll honor what we agreed on,” Lew admitted. “That’s why I came down here.”
George found it hard to believe that Lew Zerrmann would honor a handshake agreement that the two had made a generation before. “Is everything under control?”
“I might have some problems, but I’m big enough to bury J Dub,” Lew declared, his malicious nature showing.
George was confused. “Bury who?” The last thing that he wanted was to be mixed up with another dead body.
“My partner,” Lew admitted. “He can’t keep up with me financially. I’ll bury him in court if he tries to challenge me.”
“What is going to happen?”
“I’ll force my partner out of the business. He might sue me, but he won’t be able to stay up with me on the legal bills,” Lew explained.
“So after all of these years you really are going to deliver on your long-term promise?” George still couldn’t believe what he had heard.
Lew nodded.
George was stunned. “You know, we’ve waited nearly twenty years to get that property. Why are you going to sell it to us after all of these years?”
“I had a talk with Norman. He’s giving me the opportunity to develop the property with him. We can make millions. I assume that you will be involved in it, too.”
“I knew that there had to be a reason that was more important than out of the kindness of your heart,” George deadpanned.
“I mean, what the hell, you figured it all out way back when,” Lew stated as he patted George on the back.
George grinned from ear to ear. His teeth shined brightly against his dark, tanned face. “The signature has held up for all of these years?” George inquired.
“Nobody knows squat,” Lew bragged. He was proud of the fact that they had pulled off a swindle and had gotten away with it.
“What’s next?”
“The sale is only a few months away.” Lew conceded. “I found a way out of the buy/sell agreement. I squeezed all I could out of my partner. Screw him,” Lew proclaimed.
“How quickly are you prepared to close?” George inquired.
“Sixty days. The next golf season is only a couple of months away,” Lew explained. That should give us plenty of time for the legal work and financing . . . and the title work.”
Lew’s sinister grin jogged George’s memory. He raised a question to Lew. “You don’t think that the title company will challenge the chain of title, do you?”
“They haven’t up to now. Why would they?”
“We both know why. What the hell, you’ve gotten over fifteen good years out of it,” George stated.
“And some great cash flow,” Lew admitted with an eerie sneer. “You never know, maybe after Norman closes I’ll buy a yacht and cruise over next time.” His fear of flying resurfaced.
Only a sliver of the reddish ball remained above the ocean horizon. Mary Jean Graham stepped out onto the veranda with a tray of drinks. After offering drinks to the men she placed the tray down and lit candles. The smoke served as a nice detraction to the bugs that swarmed after daylight.
When George fled to Tortola he brought Mary Jean with him. They had married. She had aged very well. The island climate had helped her to stay youthful and healthy. George had definitely done a good job keeping her happy. She was a nice catch on his arm.
Mary Jean possessed the same chirpiness that she had in her younger days. “Thanks for letting us house-sit your retreat,” she said with a smile toward Lew.
“It’s nice to get down here a few times a year,” Lew admitted. “Now if I could only have you in my bedroom.” Lew had no scruples when it came to sex. Every female was fair game for him in spite of who they were attached to.
The comment caught George and Mary Jean off-guard. George made light of the uneasiness. “If you were thirty years younger you might have a chance at that.”
Mary Jean seized her chance to retaliate. “You know, this island life has changed me. I like the young, dark, island boys now.”
“Don’t you bring any mandingos up to my place,” Lew shouted.
The years had educated Mary Jean. Gone was her naiveté and dinginess. “You haven’t changed a bit. You’d love to watch,” Mary Jean said with a smile as she called his bluff. Then she quickly backed off. “I was just kidding.” The three sipped their drinks and laughed at Mary Jean’s feisty sense of humor.
George changed the subject and queried Lew. “You don’t think that the title company will ever find out, do you?”
“Everything has been destroyed,” Lew answered, “and I don’t remember a thing.”
Mary Jean scribbled her hands through the air. It was as if she was writing through the dusk. “Both of you should be very grateful that Mary Jean and Margaret begin the same way.” She laughed heartily as she walked over and hugged George. Her part in the scheme had been a well-kept secret.
“No doubt about it. You did some quick work, Babe,” George said as he kissed his wife. “Look what it got us.”
Chapter Eighty
First Few Days of January 1998 . . .
For years J Dub had gotten up between four and four-thirty in the morning. The winter months would allow for him to sleep in a little later. The sun wouldn’t appear as early during those months. An item that he needed to deal with during the winter months was the warmth that was created by the sun. If the weather was nice, the chances were high that frost was on the greens. The golfers couldn’t go out and play until the iciness burned off.
Nevertheless, the automatic alarm clock ran inside his body. Rain or shine, winter or summer, he was an early riser.
The atmosphere that surrounded the business had deteriorated badly after the meeting in Walter’s office. J Dub felt as if he was in a lame-duck situation. He had a job to do, but he didn’t think that he was necessarily going to benefit by doing the job, other than earn his weekly paycheck.
When the alarm
went off a little after four, J Dub quickly silenced it. He had been tossing and turning in bed for an hour. Marcia was asleep and he didn’t want to awaken her. He began his normal routine which started with a shower and shave. After throwing on a pair of casual slacks and a golf shirt he leaned over and gently kissed his wife. Marcia usually stirred a little when the shower became silent. This morning was no exception. Marcia was a little groggy when J Dub bent over to kiss her goodbye. “Going into work right now is about as tough as trying to make a downhill fifty-footer with a double break,” he whispered. He referenced one of the toughest feats that the two of them had accomplished together.
She smiled even though she was still half asleep. It was obvious to Marcia that J Dub could still keep a nice disposition despite all of the negatives that had surrounded him. “The last time you did that you put yourself in a hole. Don’t do it again,” she said affectionately.
He gave her a loving squeeze. “I guess things will work out for the best.”
“As long as you get away from the idiot, then I’ll be happy,” she whispered to him. J Dub grinned in the dark. He left the bedroom and headed for the kitchen. The winter darkness gave him the opportunity to eat at home and read the morning newspaper for a while.
After killing some time at the breakfast table, J Dub headed for the garage. The drive to the golf course was the same as it had been for years. J Dub always beat the rush hour traffic and this morning was no different. His home was less than ten minutes away from the golf course so the drive was normally uneventful.
The wind howled through the pre-dawn sky. Snow flurries suggested that the golf business would be slow. As he pulled into the golf course parking lot, J Dub was uncertain as to whether or not the inclement weather was going to hold off. Rain, snow, or shine, he knew that he needed to prepare the golf course for business.
He parked his pickup truck by the cart barn and, out of habit, set out to perform the duties that he had for so many years. He unlocked the cart barn and an eerie feeling enveloped him. Normally he was greeted by Bogey. However, that was not the case anymore.
Over the years he had gotten used to the welcome that Bogey would give him every morning. The little guy would rush over to him and jump up his leg. His tail would be wagging. Many mornings J Dub would pick him up and Bogey would give him a lick on the face. Those days were over.
J Dub paused a moment to reflect. On this day, instead of filling Bogey’s bowl with food and water, he noticed that the two bowls sat empty by the wall. He bent over to pick them up with the intention of putting them on a shelf. The wind whistled through the metal barn.
Out of the darkness jumped Fricke and Frack. Each was wearing a stocking hat. They brutally jumped on J Dub, threw him to the ground, and kicked at him. While one held him down, the other worked him over. “This trip is to the hospital,” mumbled Fricke.
“The next one is to the morgue,” added Frack.
For what seemed like an eternity, J Dub tried to cover his head and body from the vicious blows. If he covered his head, they would kick at his groin or his ribs. If he lowered his arms, then they would pummel his head and face.
J Dub was completely outmatched. He tried to fight back, only to be manhandled. He attempted to roll away but found a boot to the head. He made an effort to get on his feet but took a knee to the ribs.
“Watch your step asshole.”
As quickly as they appeared, the two men slipped into the darkness and disappeared. J Dub had been knocked unconscious. He was left bloodied and bruised on the gravel floor of the cart barn. Wind and snow and sleet pelted his body.
Since the passing of Easy Earl, Fred was normally the first one to arrive at the pro shop. After working the night shift, he would clock out, stop for doughnuts, and drive over to the course. Right after daybreak Fred entered the parking lot. Everything seemed normal. He parked his used Cadillac and went to the door of the pro shop. He found that it was still locked.
Fred noticed that J Dub’s pickup truck was parked by the cart barn. He hurried over to the barn to make sure that everything was alright. On the floor, J Dub was balled up into a fetal position.
“J Dub, what happened?”
“Help me, Fred.”
Fred knelt down to administer aid to J Dub. He grabbed some towels, wetted them with water, and dabbed at J Dub’s brow. “Tell me what happened.”
“Two guys mugged me,” J Dub mumbled as he grimaced in pain.
“Were you robbed?”
“I don’t think so.”
Fred could see that J Dub was in a world of hurt. “Let me call an ambulance and the police. We need to get you some help.”
Within minutes an ambulance pulled up to the cart barn. Paramedics rushed to assist J Dub. The police arrived. “What’s going on over here?” one of the cops asked.
“He said that two guys jumped him,” Fred answered.
“Did they steal anything?”
“He didn’t know, but the pro shop was locked when I pulled up,” Fred replied. “Heck, it is January. There’s no cash around here now. I stopped by to wish him a Happy New Year and find this.”
“We’ll look around and see what we can find.”
“We’re going to get him to the hospital as quick as we can,” one of the paramedic’s said. They loaded J Dub onto a stretcher, placed him in the ambulance and took off for the emergency room.
Chapter Eighty-One
J Dub was treated for multiple contusions around his face. He had a blackened eye, his nose was broken and at least two ribs were cracked. The punishment that his body sustained was like being in a head-on traffic collision at thirty-five miles per hour.
He knew who had sent the message. Lew was behind the beating. It would make it even harder to trace to him since he was out of town. J Dub was familiar with the way Lew operated. His tactics included intimidation. Lew had always gotten what he had wanted by negotiating from a position of strength. J Dub felt in his heart that this was a way that Lew would force him to do something that he really didn’t want to do.
J Dub was confident that the police would not be able to get to bottom of what really happened. The business hadn’t been robbed, so theft wasn’t a motive. It was merely a case of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. The chances were great that the culprits would never be identified.
After being treated in the emergency room, J Dub was wheeled into a private room. His face was bandaged. He needed some strong painkillers to ease the throbbing from the battering that he took. The nurses hooked him up to an IV. A monitor showed a healthy heartbeat.
Marcia rushed to the hospital once she was notified. Not knowing the severity of the injuries to J Dub, she gathered Gail, Carrie, and Nick and brought them with her. She also placed a call to Curt and arranged to meet him at the hospital.
When they arrived, J Dub was under a heavy dose of anesthetics. He was resting comfortably. Yet Marcia lost control of her emotions when she saw the terrible shape that he was in. The massive wrapping around his head scared her.
She reached back into her memory to recall how they had first met. It was on a blind date in college. A fraternity brother had been going out with Marcia’s older sister. He fixed the two of them up so that they could go on a double date to a football game. After the game the four of them went to a pizza parlor and shared a few pitchers of beer. Later that night they went to a fraternity party and danced until the sweat poured out of them.
Marcia knew then and there that J Dub was the guy that she was going to marry. They got along so well. He was truly a nice guy, well-mannered, and polite. He was also personable with all the people he came into contact with.
She was instantly attracted to his goals and dreams. At the time, he had been working hard on his golf game. After college he wanted to head to Florida, play the mini-tour, and try to qualify for his PGA card. He always used to tell Marcia that you only live once. J Dub felt that if he was going to take a chance in life, then the time for that wou
ld be right out of college before the complexities of life took over.
J Dub’s dream didn’t turn out the way that he had hoped but the new path that he took wasn’t all that bad either. He had a loving wife, a stable relationship, great health, and three beautiful children. The career opportunity that had served as a replacement for his dream had also showed enduring promise.
Nevertheless, it all seemed to be such a waste as she stood there and looked at her husband lying motionless on a hospital bed. Deep down, Marcia also knew who was behind the pounding. The business negotiations weren’t going as wonderfully as they had both hoped. The friction that surrounded the relationship between Lew and J Dub had been boiling to a climax.
Her first reaction was to comfort and console J Dub. However, the more she reflected back on their life, the angrier she became. Marcia wanted to get to the bottom of what happened. She wanted to be as supportive to her husband as she could so that the two of them could give Lew Zerrmann a good dose of what he deserved. Together, she intuitively knew, that they would have the strength to get over this and get to the bottom of what happened.
J Dub must have subconsciously felt the presence of his family in the room. He slowly opened his eyes and focused on his wife and the kids. Marcia could literally feel the pain that he was in and the disappointment that he was enduring.
“They jumped you, Honey,” Marcia whispered.
J Dub nodded his head. “It was two of them.”
Marcia reached for a towel and wiped his brow. She wanted to soothe his suffering the best that she could. She grabbed his hand and squeezed lovingly. “Please get away from him,” she pleaded.
“He’s trying to take everything from us,” J Dub cried.
“Don’t let him take your life, Hon.”
“He’s not strong enough to knock the will out of me,” J Dub insisted. She bent over to kiss his forehead.
“He and I are playing two different games,” J Dub rambled. “Mine is the game of life and his game deals with silly ego battles.”
“I want you to look around this room,” Marcia begged.