James Ross - A Young Adult Trilogy (Prairie Winds Golf Course)

by James Ross

  “Judge Porter?”

  “Yep.”

  It was well after three thirty in the morning and J Dub’s mind was working overtime. “When Doc and I went down to the site where Pabby’s body was found it was obvious to me right away that it didn’t happen the way the cops said it did. Too many geese were around. He was petrified of them.”

  “Does it all make more sense?” DeWitt asked.

  “After seeing what I saw tonight it sure does.”

  “We’re talking about people that are supposed to be our leaders.” DeWitt pushed his plate away. “We’re talking about powerful people that can pull the chains of presidents. They have the ability to cover up assassinations and get politicians in the White House. Truthfully, they all disgust me. And for that matter so does the legal profession. It’s about time some justice gets done.”

  The waitress cleared the table.

  “I just hope that we’re safe,” Julie said.

  DeWitt smiled. “I’ll do the dirty work now.” He reached into his pocket and took out some money to pay the bill.

  CHAPTER 87

  Checking the traps on a daily basis had become a habit. Doc and J Dub were on a roll. Several days later they had captured two more squirrels and were disposing of them behind the maintenance barn which sat near the woods.

  “What was it like in there?” Doc pulled a pistol from his holster and plugged one of the squirrels. He reached into the trap, grabbed it and flung it into the trees. “That fox oughta buy us lunch someday. You never see the squirrels lying around the next day.”

  J Dub answered the original question. “Dark. Real dark.”

  “Did you have to worry about getting caught?”

  “Not really. We were in a different part of the cave—sort of on a higher level of it. We would have had to do a lot of climbing down to get to where they were. It was almost as if we were in a nest far up in the tree and we were looking down at them. It took a little effort to get to there and I was glad that we got some back light from their torches. The other break we got was a strong signal for Morgan to operate.”

  “I suppose the fun starts now.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “DeWitt told me that he’d be by to talk to you later today.”

  “What about?”

  “Probably what he is planning.”

  “Curt and I are meeting with Pudge in a few minutes.”

  “I’ll tell DeWitt to stop by after that.”

  The pair made the trek back to the clubhouse. Pudge was waiting when they arrived. He was eating a candy bar.

  “How in the world are you going to lose weight if you keep munching on that stuff?” J Dub asked as he greeted his lawyer. “Come on in.”

  Curt was in a likely spot. He was fiddling on the computer. J Dub flopped down on the couch as Pudge grabbed a chair opposite the desk. “I suppose you want an update on what’s been going on in the suit.”

  “No, not really,” J Dub said.

  “We’ve decided to take on a new tactic,” Curt followed.

  Pudge stammered. “I don’t think that I’d do that.”

  “We’ve had some new things turn up,” J Dub said. The brothers were coming at him from both sides.

  “What do you mean?”

  “We’ve been doing some of our own investigative work,” Curt said.

  “Like what?”

  J Dub got up and walked to the desk. In a folder were all the pictures that Pork Chop had taken when the camera was on the automatic setting. “This accident didn’t happen like they claim.” He handed the file to Pudge.

  The rotund figure flipped through each shot. “Where did you get these?”

  “Picture day on the golf course,” Curt answered.

  “Look at the date stamp on them,” J Dub added.

  “And who is driving,” Curt pointed out.

  “We want you to go to Tanner Atkins and demand that he drop the lawsuit.”

  “He’s not going to do that.”

  “We’ve got new evidence.”

  “We might have some discovery issues.”

  “Look, we’re trying to save the golf course. If these guys want to try and clean us out then we’re going to pull out all the stops to try the save the place.”

  “Do you need more proof?” Curt asked.

  “No, not really. I mean everything helps to paint a picture.”

  “What happens if we have a smoking gun?” J Dub asked.

  “Well, er, the more we have, the better our arguments.”

  J Dub pulled out the release of liability form that was signed when the foursome took the cart. “These pictures prove that the driver was someone other than who signed the release.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Plus some other things have turned up,” Curt added.

  “Like what?”

  “We also feel that the police department was setting me up to discredit my reputation.”

  “How are you going to prove that?”

  “I’ve never gotten a ticket in my life and I had three incidents in a short period of time. I can prove that Chief O’Callahan has a tight relationship with Tanner Atkins.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything.”

  “When we show you how deeply they are connected you’ll think otherwise.”

  It was Curt’s turn to speak up. “We also found out the motive behind the lawsuit.”

  “It’s an injury settlement.”

  “That’s what they want you to believe. The head of the union wanted to have a retreat. Prairie Winds was selected.”

  “And we’ll show you the connection between the union and Tanner.”

  “It better be strong and convincing.”

  “Just keep your eye on the news over the next few weeks.”

  “Then hit Tanner when he least expects it. We want this lawsuit dropped.”

  CHAPTER 88

  Pudge wasn’t out the door more than fifteen minutes when DeWitt and Doc entered.

  “You owe me,” Julie whispered. She didn’t want the guys in the back booth to hear all of her words.

  “How?”

  “The ghosts. You didn’t fill in all the blanks.”

  “Ah. Remind me. That’s another story,” DeWitt said.

  “I have a feeling that you’re holding back a little. The more I get to know you the more I think that you’ve got more stories than you’re letting on.”

  DeWitt grinned. “The advantage of old age.” He paused. “I don’t know if that is a good thing or not.” He sighed. “I may not have many days left. I better tell as many as I can.”

  Julie jerked her head toward the office. “They’re waiting for you.”

  J Dub was quick to extend his hand and welcome the duo into the office. “Have you caught up on your sleep?”

  DeWitt shook his head. “Nah, I’ve been busy.” Doc yawned as he slipped into a chair.

  “We’re not keeping you up, are we?”

  “Don’t get old, J Dub. I need a nap every day.”

  “What have you been busy doing, DeWitt?”

  “Willie Butts with the ARDC in Springfield has a copy of both videos.” DeWitt looked a little sorrowful and haggard, but also satisfied. “So does Jake Russell with the Judicial Inquiry Board in Chicago.” His manner was almost surgical. “I personally met with both men and hand-delivered the copies.”

  “What did they say?”

  “Not much. But I assume they were very pleased that the results of some hard work will be used to police their members.”

  “I would hope that it goes further than that,” Curt said.

  “There’s no doubt,” DeWitt agreed. “Once those discs are analyzed and more identities are discovered I think we’ll find out that those characters are only the tip of the iceberg. They don’t have a roll call, but a picture is worth a thousand words.”

  “It’s my understanding that those quasi-government groups just handle ethics violations. Surely there is more to it th
an that.”

  “That’s right. There are criminal violations here.”

  “Like murder.”

  “And conspiracy to commit murder,” DeWitt added. “It’s hard to believe that a simple college drinking fraternity called Cloaks and Gavel could progress to this.”

  “But what really can be done? If these guys are all so connected to law enforcement and politics won’t they get off on some sort of technicality?”

  “That’s a likely outcome,” DeWitt agreed, “and it sickens me.”

  “So what are you going to do to get around that?”

  DeWitt had a smug look on his face. “Watch the news later today.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “All the local stations and the cable news networks have it. How else do you battle forces that are out of control?”

  “You know what is going to hit the fan.”

  “In a big way. There will be a lot of scrambling.” DeWitt sighed. “But you know what?” He looked everyone in the eye. “These guys deserve it. They have violated the public’s trust. What they’ve been doing for a long time disgusts me to no end and has given me renewed interest in life.”

  “I’d say it is an abuse of power,” Curt concurred.

  “Look who’s involved. They all are so pompous they deem themselves untouchable.”

  J Dub got to the heart of what he had wondered about for a long time. “Is that what happened between you and your old partner? Was it something as simple as ethics?”

  DeWitt measured his response. “Indirectly, I suppose.”

  “Go ahead and tell them,” Doc said. “It’s a lot more than that. Get it off your chest.”

  DeWitt took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. The guys could tell that he wanted to get the weight of the world off his shoulders. “I recently lost my beloved Patricia.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you. It wasn’t due to natural causes.” J Dub and Curt looked puzzled. “My wife of forty-six years, my soul mate, killed herself.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “Yes, on the surface it looks like a horrible thing to do.” DeWitt covered his eyes with his left hand. “It was what was in the suicide note that was horrible.”

  J Dub and Curt didn’t dare say a thing. They thought it was wise to listen.

  “The cause of her depression, or guilt, or whatever you want to call it had to do with something that she had to live with all of these years.”

  The brothers looked at each other.

  “In her note she acknowledged that she had an affair with my law partner soon after we got out of law school. There was a victory party accompanied by a lot of drinking. One thing led to another.” DeWitt’s voice wavered. “All of these years I assumed that my little Pamela was fathered by me. In her note Patricia acknowledged differently.”

  J Dub and Curt were astonished. “Judge Porter is her real father?”

  DeWitt got pissed. “The little girl I raised is not my own. My wife kept the secret from me all of these years.”

  “That’s disgusting.”

  DeWitt pulled himself together. He shook his head up and down. “That sick SOB married his own daughter!”

  “Oh my God.”

  All the stress associated with life seemed to be lifted off DeWitt’s shoulders. “I hope the whole bunch of them rots for all of eternity.”

  CHAPTER 89

  The guys were in the clubhouse when the foursome exited the office. Male camaraderie was spreading through the room. Julie put two cents in for the female race. Carla read a magazine. Uncle Woo and Shae played Uno. BowTye held his guitar and practiced some chords.

  It wasn’t long after the drinks were served and the scores posted. The cable news network broke into programming with an exclusive news bulletin.

  The attractive female news broadcaster started, “Satellite News TV has learned that an exclusive secret society of lawyers, judges, politicians, law enforcement personnel and influential businessmen on the east side of St. Louis have been involved in a ritualistic killing that is certain to produce incriminating indictments. The southern Illinois club has operated for a number of years as an auxiliary hub from the controlling office out of Chicago.”

  Heads turned in the clubhouse.

  “Sources say that renowned attorney Tanner Atkins, influential judge Buchanon Porter and prominent businessman Philippe Vaugh-Purdy controlled the social order of the society that is expected to involve political leaders, prosecutors and the chief of police. Stay tuned to Satellite News TV for updates on this developing story. Laura Reid-Pobance reporting.”

  “Unbelievable,” Paul said.

  “That’s the guy that has been after you, isn’t it J Dub?” Fred asked.

  “It’s about time someone went after the scum of the earth,” Captain Jer replied. “Those guys get to operate unchecked. We need to have some controls placed on that element of society.”

  “Yeah, they pretty much get to do what they want and have their cronies cover for them.”

  “Can I ask a question?” J Dub asked from behind the counter.

  “Sure, boss.”

  “Where do most of the politicians come from?’

  “The lawyer pool,” Captain Jer answered. “They’re the ones that starve and can’t make a living on the street.”

  “So they go into politics to run our country, right?”

  “That pretty much sums it up.”

  “And they get political contributions and amass huge campaign chests.”

  “Yep.”

  “The way I understand it is that they get tax free funds from lobbyists,” BT said. “Then they get voted in and they’re more concerned about getting re-elected than fixing the problems in this country.”

  “So that gridlock and posturing and stalling are all accepted in politics,” Paul said.

  “And don’t most of these guys leave office as millionaires or at least a lot wealthier than when they went in?” J Dub asked.

  “You got it figured out,” Captain Jer said. “They live on the public dole, get all sorts of perks and act like they have an endless supply of money in their checkbook.”

  “Just to make sure I understand,” J Dub followed. “Most of these people are lawyers.”

  “Where do you think I get my material?” Trot asked. “These guys can’t balance the budget. They pass bills that don’t go into effect until after they leave office. They’re not held accountable. They’re never held responsible. Plus they insulate themselves from the bills they propose.”

  Elia jumped into the conversation. “I don’t understand your political system over here. Politicians get to spend money on planes, meals and hotels like they are entitled to all that good living.”

  “When you stop to think about it only about one third of the people bother to vote,” Paul said. “All a candidate has to do is get a simple majority of those votes and he’s elected.”

  “Which sets him up for life,” Curt said. “Who are these people?”

  “Lawyers,” Captain Jer reiterated.

  “I hope they throw the book at these guys that got caught,” Fred said.

  “I’m sure they’ll negotiate some sort of eleventh hour settlement to delay things for a decade or two,” BT said facetiously.

  “We certainly can’t solve the problems of American politics in this clubhouse,” Paul said.

  Trot grabbed the broom and acted like it was a microphone. “Did you hear the one about the law student that considered a career in organized crime?”

  “No, Trot,” Julie answered. “What happened?”

  “He decided he couldn’t lose. He could choose the private sector and if he didn’t make it he could always join the public sector, go into politics and work for the government.”

  The guys laughed out loud. “That pretty much sums it up, doesn’t it?”

  “I’ll tell you, that Tanner Atkins and Buchanon Porter must be a couple of dogs.”

  Julie couldn’t wait to
speak up. “You know what they say don’t you?” The guys shook their heads. “A pecker has no conscience and a snatch has no face.”

  “Julie! That’s a terrible thing to say, but maybe you can go on stage with Trot!”

  “That’s the way I feel about those two. They deserve what they get.”

  J Dub went into the office and threw some garments into a duffel bag. He returned and turned to Julie. “Watch the shop for a few days.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’ve come to the realization that I’m not going to be in the legal profession or should I say the rarefied air of the chosen few?” He paused. “Pabby’s not around to see us post his score anymore. He didn’t get much of a chance. We couldn’t save him.”

  “Now what?”

  “I’m going to do everything in my power to fix things.” He made a couple of steps toward the door.

  “Hey!” Curt yelled. “Tell her I’m not a serial dater!”

  “Where are you going?”

  J Dub looked at Julie. “Somebody has to settle Pabby’s score.” He threw the bag over his shoulder. “I’m going to find Aieshia. She knows more about what happened than we can ever guess. Then I’m going to try to get her to talk. She has to be some place down in Arkansas.”

  Shae looked up from her cards. “Arkansas. It was the twenty-fifth state admitted to the Union. The capital is Little Rock. The state bird is the mockingbird. The state flower is the apple blossom. The state is home to the forty-second President of the United States.”

  ABOUT JAMES ROSS

  James Ross was born in the early 1950s in central Illinois. The oldest son of a high school teacher/basketball coach and homemaker had a childhood dream to become a professional athlete. At age twelve Jim took up golf when the family moved to a golf course development in the western suburbs of St. Louis. His passion for the game grew from that moment on and he became a low-handicap player.

  After turning fifty he decided to get in touch with his creative side and sat down to write. At the keyboard words flowed naturally through his fingertips. His first novel, Lifetime Loser was published in 2007. The writing bug had bitten. He continued with stories that attack social issues and delve into Midwestern life. Before his first novel was finished he had begun the second book, Finish Line (2008) involving a cancer survivor. It is a continuation of the happenings in and around the fictitious setting of Prairie Winds Golf Course on the east side of St. Louis.