Deadly Greens (eBook)

Kingsley R. Johnson (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2024 | 1. Auflage
282 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
979-8-3509-6249-9 (ISBN)

Private Investigator, Harry Clancy is in search of a serial killer who murdered his friends' niece.

Kingsley Johnson was born and raised in Spokane, Washington. He now resides in California with his wife Francesca. Kingsley is the proud father of four daughters, one son, and a son-in-law. He has three grandchildren who adore him. During Kingsley's spare time, he loves sitting down at his laptop. The pure joy he has from looking at a blank page deciding on what type of adventure he's going to take is immeasurable. He enjoys being a writer because his stories take place anywhere in the world, or out of this world. Kingsley believes when you sit down at a keyboard and discover that you are free to go wherever you want and make your characters be who you want them to be, either good or bad, it is thrilling. He says, 'Each day, you have control over the world you have created and let yourself go. What a joy...

Private Investigator, Harry Clancy is in search of a serial killer who murdered his friends' niece. During the pursuit of the killer, he comes to terms with his past.

CHAPTER ONE

THE PERFECT DAY

It was one of those special days on the golf course. The sky was a brilliant blue without a cloud to be seen. Along with the freshly mowed green grass, the canvas was complete. Everything was working for me today. My drives were straight down the middle of the fairway. I was reading the greens so perfectly that my putts looked like there was a groove in the green to the hole. It was the type of day that you were happy to be alive.

I made a side bet with Jake and Ray for a nice cool creamy Guinness which they already owed me for a birdie putt I made back on the Par-4 Sixteenth. I reached down to repair the divot from where my ball landed. I was about 115 yards out which was perfect for my pitching wedge. I had enough backspin on the ball to get me right into position. All I had to do was sink this four-foot birdie putt on this Par-5 signature hole and the boys would have to pay up.

Just before I was ready to putt, Jake yelled, “Hey Clancy, you want to go double or nothing?”

“Sure, I’ll take your money,” I said.

I wasn’t worried about the putt at all. Especially since I was making my putts all day long. It was the murders that kept me from concentrating on this putt. As soon as I hit the ball, I knew I missed it. I pulled it to the left and it lipped out.

“Pay up Clancy!” Ray shouted.

“Not a problem guys.” It’s the only hole you two won.” I said.

“We saved the best for last,” Jake said.

This was our normal outing with the Pinewood Golf Association. Normally we have about twenty guys who show up every weekend to play. It’s great, all you do is call the ‘hotline’ to find out what course we’re playing, leave your name and just show up. I’ve been a member for over ten years.

Pinewood was formed back in the late sixties. Mike Gibson was the founding member and president of Pinewood. It was established so that Blacks could get a chance to play golf. Back in the day, it was hard for us to get on a golf course unless we were caddies or worked in the kitchen. The racism was so rampant back then. The only way around it was this loophole that Mike found. It was illegal to discriminate against associations. When Black people tried to get tee times on their own or just show up at the golf course, they were not allowed to play. However, Mike found a way. Mike was one of the first Black attorneys in Spokane, Washington. He found a bylaw that all city and public golf courses had to abide by. ‘It stated that all clubs, organizations, and associations that are legally established with a charter of laws and regulations for the use of all public facilities and are filed with the state and county are entitled to all the benefits and use of all public facilities.’ Amazingly, these four Black men grew Pinewood to over 250 members today. And, that word would spread to other states as well. Different chapters of Black golf associations were formed all over the entire West Coast and eventually the whole country and even Canada.

Since there was such a small minority population in Spokane, the group would get all sorts of stares and jeers from all the white players.

That was then, and this is now. The Diamondback Golf and Country Club is a new course; only five years old. The course is in great shape because they are getting ready to host the U.S. Senior Open to be held here in three weeks.

I looked over at Jake and said, “You may have won a couple of beers from me, but this is the easiest money I made today.” Jake wasn’t too happy because he knew that I was going to make about $70.00 in skins; that is bets. We always gamble when we’re out here playing. It wouldn’t be golf if we didn’t have a friendly wager or two. There is a pot that everyone chips in, and we usually have side bets as well, like the two beers I owe Jake. I know Jake was happy that he would get something today besides being frustrated by the terrible day he had.

“Clancy, all I want to know, are you going to give me a chance to win some of my money back?” Jake asked.

“You know I will.”

“You’re too kind Clancy.”

I was glad that we were finally at the 18th green. I’ve been a member at Diamondback for the last two years thanks to Al Jackson. Al picked up the $20,000.00 membership dues for the first two years. After that, I am responsible for making the payment. It’s a beautiful place to play. Besides, Al owes me since I saved his life when we were serving together with the Marines in Iraq during the first Gulf War.

My friend, Al ‘Long Ball’ Jackson hired me. My name is Harry Clancy, I’m a private investigator here in Spokane. Al’s been playing on the Senior Tour for the past four years. His first three years were great. Al just turned fifty-four and won two of the major tournaments his first year out. The next year was even better. He won three majors. He was on fire. However, this year he’s been in a slump. Al hasn’t broken into the top ten. He says his game is off because of the threats.

He believes someone is out to kill him. Over the past six months three people have been killed: all black. One on the men’s PGA Tour, a woman on the LPGA Tour, and a member of the Oregon State men’s golf team. To say the least, Al’s a little nervous is an understatement.

I looked at my scorecard, 74, not bad, I said to myself. I owe a lot to Long Ball. If it wasn’t for him and all the help he gave me with my game, I wouldn’t be here. Plus, the fact I saved him from having an Iraqi soldier shoot him when his weapon jammed might make him feel a little bit obligated.

“You better show up next week Clancy! I want a chance to win some of my money back,” Jake said.

“Maybe, maybe not, who’s to say,” I said with a smirk on my face. I know that upsets Jake; he hates to lose. But I do love to take their money now. For many years, these guys used to take my money. I remember one year when we had our annual club championship I came in last place. I got the ‘Golden Toilet Award.’ Not only was I embarrassed, but both Jake and Ray had their fair share of laughs at my expense. Because of that experience Long Ball and I got close. Long Ball worked with me on my short game, my drives, and most importantly, my putting. He was a great coach. If it wasn’t for him, they would still be taking my money.

We all shook hands after Ray made the last putt.

“That was fun guys. Let’s go inside and cool off with some beers. I guess I’m buying you a couple of beers Jake,” I said with a smile on my face.

As we were walking onto the cart path off the eighteenth green you could hear the starter announcing the foursome to tee off, “Morgan, next on the tee. Followed by the Taylor twosome and the Riley twosome on deck.”

You could hear the whack of the golf balls being hit as we walked by the driving range. Several golfers on the practice green were taking their last putts before being told that it was their turn to tee off.

As I was opening the door to the clubhouse, I could feel the rush of cool air from the air conditioner inside when my cell phone rang. I could tell by the caller ID that it was Long Ball.

“Hey Long Ball, how are you doing my friend?” I asked as I was walking inside.

“How much money did you win today, Clancy?” he asked.

“I took Jake and Ray for about $70.00.”

“Good job,” he said. “You’re doing what I told you to do, aren’t you?”

“You know it. I can’t tell you how much your pointers have helped me to knock strokes off my game. I shot a 74 today.”

“Fantastic Clancy, that’s great.”

I’ve always considered Long Ball as my mentor. And it feels good to hear your teacher give you praise when you do something right.

“I wish you could have seen me today LB. I was in the zone. I knew when I addressed the ball, I was going to hit it dead solid perfect.”

“Don’t worry Clancy, I’ll be there next week, and I’ll get a chance to see you hit. I’m going to drive up. I need to take it easy for a few days before the Open.”

“What’s the matter?” I can always tell when something is wrong with Long Ball.

“You haven’t changed a bit Clancy. You can read me like a book.”

“You know that’s right.”

“Hold on Long Ball, I was just about to go inside the clubhouse when you called. I’m going back outside so we can have some privacy,” I didn’t want everyone to overhear our conversation. I can tell he is...

Erscheint lt. Verlag	7.6.2024
Sprache	englisch
Themenwelt	Literatur ► Krimi / Thriller / Horror
ISBN-13	979-8-3509-6249-9 / 9798350962499

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