Murder on the Front Nine

by Steve McMillen

  “Mr. Sherman, since Mr. Rutland’s death, the police have done an extensive investigation. During that investigation, they found a key to a mailbox at a private location. Do you have any idea what they discovered in that box?”

  “No, senator but I have a funny feeling you are going to tell me.”

  “Yes, Mr. Sherman, I am. They found a letter detailing everything that went on between you and Dean Rutland. Should I continue?”

  Gary Sherman’s stomach problem returns. He leans back in his chair, smiles, and does not answer the question.

  “Mr. Sherman, right now I cannot prove that you killed Dean Rutland. However, I do have you for lying under oath to a Senate sub-committee, possibly paying to have Mr. Trever Byers killed, and trying to bribe a United States senator. I wonder if you’ll continue to be a wise-ass in prison.”

  Gary Sherman looks over at his attorney, who seems stunned by the turn of events and says, “Well, Chris, are you going to do anything?”

  Senator Mullins motions and two U.S. Marshals walk over to the witness table. They tell Gary to stand up. They handcuff his hands behind his back.

  As he is leaving the room, he looks back at his attorney and says again, “Damn it, Chris, are you going to do anything? What do I pay you for?”

  Gary Sherman and the U.S. Marshals disappear into a hallway. Senator Mullins smiles again and bangs his gavel. “This sub-committee is adjourned.”

  Chapter 52: Connie Smith

  Connie Smith is sitting on the beach on Grand Cayman Island. She is enjoying the sun and sipping a glass of white wine.

  She retired as a schoolteacher after twenty years and since she had started at age twenty-two, she was still young when she went to work for Senator Brazile.

  She had been married at age twenty-four and that lasted about seven years. She decided that marriage was not for her and decided to move on. They had no children so parting ways was not a big problem for her.

  The senator made several moves on her when she first started but Connie made it very clear to him that she did not mix business with pleasure. The senator did not really mind, Connie was a good and efficient employee so he just moved on to the next young woman.

  The senator was right; Connie was a real stickler for perfection in the office. She noticed everything and looked at everything even if it was on or in the senator’s desk. She kept a diary of daily happenings, activities, phone calls, visitors, political functions, and she knew all about the money in the senator’s desk safe. She found the combination to the safe on his desk one day when he had to rush off to cast his vote. She also knew where the spare key was for the other lock on the desk.

  Once a week she took the diary notes and transcribed them into a three-ring notebook while the events were still fresh in her mind. She figured someday all of the information in her notebook would be useful to her.

  Yes, Connie knew where all of the skeletons were buried and where all of the illegal campaign funds and bribes were kept. Then one day she decided to retire, rent a condo on Grand Cayman, and enjoy the beach life. She knew the senator usually only checked his desk safe once a week so she figured she would have at least six days to get the money and get out of town before he discovered what had happened.

  She took the money one day and filled the empty gym bag with rolled up newspapers just in case he happened to look and not open the bag. She told the senator she needed to visit a sick relative and that she would be back in about a week. She had her bags packed and she had rigged a raincoat with several new, large, inside Velcro pockets so that between the pockets and a large money belt, she could carry the entire $800,000.00 with her on the plane. If any of her friends had seen her, they would have thought she had put on a lot of weight. She walked right through the metal detector and right onto the plane. She didn’t breathe until she sat down in her seat after stowing her carry-on bag in the overhead storage compartment. She took off her coat but kept it on her lap.

  Like Dean Rutland, she also had taken out a life insurance policy. She wrote a letter to Senator Brazile and left it in the gym bag. She told him exactly what she had done and why he would keep his mouth shut.

  She strongly suggested that he should not try to locate her. She would name names, places, events and phone calls. She had enough on the senator to ruin his political life, his social life and his marriage.

  If there were to be an investigation, the senator could and probably would end up in jail. You might say Connie had the senator by the short hairs.

  Connie really doesn’t feel bad about what she has done; she took money that didn’t belong to the senator anyway. It was illegal money, tainted money, which is not traceable. So who is hurt? The senator still has his job, his position, his marriage, and he is not in jail. Life is good. She figures it is just bonus money to her from the senator for her being a devoted employee all those years.

  At least that is her story and she is sticking to it.

  Liz Woodkark is sitting in her office in Washington when her private, secure phone line lights up.

  “Hey, Liz, how are you? I got the message that you called.”

  “Yes I did. Have you found anything negative on that Mickke D guy?”

  “No, not really. I don’t see him as a threat but if I do find out anything that changes my mind, I will be happy to go ahead and eliminate him myself.”

  Liz replies sternly, “Not without my okay, we may be able to use him later. And get over being pissed off at him just because he found Trever Byers’ killer before you did.”

  “You got it, boss lady.”

  “Oh and by the way, how did you do in that golf tournament in Myrtle Beach?” She asks.

  “Not very well,” replies Stan (the man) Hutchinson.

  EPILOGUE

  A lot has happened in the past six months. First, I found out that Barry (the person who was going to kill me) left a will naming me as sole beneficiary of SIL. It seems he owned the company lock, stock, and barrel. Ted and Bill were only hired employees. The will stated that I was the only one he would ever trust to carry on the business. Go figure.

  Second, TC and I split 10 million bucks from the Feds and South Carolina for our terrorists intervention off the coast of Pawleys Island. The Feds figured out the cargo ship was controlled by Iranian terrorists and the shit hit the fan in the Middle East. Iran closed down its nuclear program in exchange for an agreement that we would not retaliate for the attack on our shore line. TC and I are getting ready to head up the underwater search team to find out if our discovered wreck is for real.

  TC did send a nice check back to Freddy’s family in Brazil. He also found a relative of Rusty McRichards and sent her a nice check.

  I closed SIL’s office in Culpepper and I got rid of the illegal business entities at SIL, the organ farming, and the arms buying and shipping deals. I also changed the name to Grand Strand Investigations (GSI) and moved the business to North Myrtle Beach.

  I sold the helicopter and I did not replace the first plane Paul blew up. I figured I did not need personal airplanes.

  I bought the building where my real estate and landscaping business was located and completely refurbished the entire building. Jean and Bob decided not to stay. They moved their plumbing business closer to their home out on Route 9.

  I hired my neighbor Jimmy to run GSI for me out of the new building.

  I found Mark Yale back in Ohio and I talked him and his wife Jannie into moving to the beach. Now Mark is running the landscape business. I oversee the entire corporation, Mickke D Enterprises, LLC. I run the real estate end of the business out of the same small office that Paul tried to burn down.

  Everything is moving along well. Jimmy has a contract with Senator Brazile to find one of his ex-employees. He pretty much told us that since he is our client that we are bound to secrecy. I guess he wants us on his side this time.

  Mark is busy with the landscape business and real estate has finally picked up again. I have pretty much retired from tea
ching golf although I do give an occasional lesson to some old students.

  I have no idea where Bill is and even if I did, I would keep it to myself. He saved my butt and I still owe him, and when and if he ever calls to collect, I will be there to pay up.

  Detective Sam Concile at least smiles when I run into her and she has actually sent Jimmy some referrals for GSI.

  My three ex-wives have become very friendly since they discovered I am well off but I have kept my distance. Two of them live in the area and I think they have weekly meetings to discuss ideas on how to get their hands on some of my good fortune.

  Steve (the sign man) Griggs finished second in the World Am in a three-hole playoff with Dane Mienhart’s wife Karen from down at Possum Trot. It was her first time to play in the tournament and she won. You go girl!

  Steve ended up marrying one of his playing partners from the World Am, a young woman named Pat Lawyer. She has persuaded him to give up gambling and raise a family.

  I had a call about a month ago from Blue’s owner Terri. The place they are living in Murrells Inlet is not working out for Blue. It is a very small house with a very small yard. Terri wanted to know if I could take him for a while, until she can find a larger place to rent. I guess I owe Blue that much, so I said yes and now he lives with me. Of course, just for a while. Yeah right.

  Blue has really helped my love life. If you ever want to pick up women, just take your big, friendly, chic-magnet dog for a walk on the beach. It is like shooting fish in a barrel. I have been dating one of my fish for several months now and I think this could be serious. Her name is Beverly and she is a well-built blond with gorgeous long legs who just adores Blue.

  The only problem is that Beverly is a cat person and I am not sure if Blue will be willing to share me with two cats, Seby and Bernard. I guess we will just have to wait and see.

  I hired Beverly to be my receptionist for the entire building on Sea Mountain Highway. She and Mark’s wife Jannie hit it off right away. They became good friends as if they had known each other forever. Go figure.

  My demons have disappeared for now. I mentally acknowledged to myself, the past can’t be changed, only forgiven and forgotten.