Mystery of the 19th Hole (Taylor Kelsey, Mystery 1) (15 page)

             
Still, no one was waiting behind them.  A good sign.  It was the middle of the week, so the course was almost completely empty. 

After some random mumbling, Susan swung a goofy-looking swing and sent her ball off to the right, where it came to a rolling stop before a tree.

             
“Nice,” said Taylor derisively.

             
“I wouldn’t laugh, Miss Perfect Swing.”

             
Taylor stepped up to her ball, which was still standing there, untouched, and didn’t take a practice swing.  Her perfect swing made contact this time, and the ball flew high and far.  Only, not straight.  It reached far right, and crashed into a wooded area.

             
“Oooh,” said Susan, “I hope you didn’t hit anything on the endangered species list.”

             
“I wouldn’t be laughing.  You’ll be lucky if you hit
anything
,” remarked Taylor.

             
Susan went silent.

“What is it?” posed Taylor.

             
“I think I see Cadell.  On that faraway green.”

             
Taylor followed Susan’s gaze until seeing Cadell.  “Let’s go!”

             
They left their bags behind, though they were supposed to attach them to their golf cart, jumped into their cart, and sped away.  Inside the clubhouse, Mike saw them and sighed.  “No hope,” he muttered, and let them go.

             
Taylor was driving and had the pedal all the way down.  The cart whistled as they sped down the fairway.  Susan said, “Cr—cre—creek!”

             
“I see it,” said Taylor.  Directly in front of them, the fairway slightly dropped into a creek.  Taylor didn’t slow, and their cart dropped in and splashed through it, giving them several head-spinning jolts.

             
“You do realize we’re breaking all the rules Mike told us not to break,” yelled Susan, hair whipping in the wind.

             
“Since when do you care?  Besides, this is a police emergency!”

             
“Jack Cadell is not even a part of the case,” Susan retorted.  “He’s just the estranged father.”

             
“Estranged enough to be involved.  Don’t you think that’s a good alibi?  Just use simple deduction, Sue.”

             
“Actually,” yelled Susan, “detectives don’t technically use deduction.  They technically use abduction.”

             
“Whatever!”

             
Their cart rolled over the green, which is also against the rules, ran over the flag, and as it came down the other side, tore through a level sand pit.  “Shouldn’t we stop and rake the sand?” asked Susan.

             
“Will you stop that,” said Taylor.  “Why are you interested in keeping the rules all of the sudden?”

             
“Because I’m tired of high speed chases.”

             
“We’re not chasing anyone, and no one is chasing us.”

             
“I just have a bad feeling.”

             
Taylor finally brought the cart to a slow stop beside Cadell and the burly man who was with him.  “Mr. Cadell?” inquired Taylor.

             
Susan fell out of the cart and started kissing the ground.

             
“What’s wrong with her?” Cadell asked.

             
“Everything.  So you are Jack Cadell?”

             
“Yeah, why, is there a problem?”

             
“I’ll say.  You’re son was accused of murder.”

             
“I know that.  What about it?”

             
Taylor asked, “Why did you quit your job at the café the day before the murder?”

             
He looked at her wryly.  “I didn’t know there was going to be a murder if that’s what you’re implying.”

             
The burly man stepped beside Jack at this point.  “What seems to be the problem, girls?”

             
Jack introduced him.  “This is Jim.  My… friend.”

             
The man turned around and spat.  Taylor noticed he had a handgun in his back pocket.  She nearly screamed, but then pretended she didn’t see anything.  Turning toward Jack, she noticed something in his golf cart.  “Uh…”  She couldn’t speak she was so astonished.  Slowly, gradually, cocking her head all the while, she approached Jack’s cart.

             
“What is it?” Cadell asked.

             
“Yeah, what’s up?” asked Susan.

             
Taylor grabbed a beanie off the seat.  On the top were the letters
JC
in bold.  Just like Aaron’s beanie that said
AC
.  Taylor remembered Aaron’s story about the ski trip and the only good time he’d had with his dad.  Now holding the beanie before Jack, she asked an obvious question: “You still have this?”

             
“Yes,” he said, laughing nervously.  “Why?”

             
“Because I just solved the case.”  Taylor turned toward Susan.  “I know what happened.”

             
“What?  What did you solve?” said Jack.

             
“You’re the guy.  You’re the murderer.  You murdered Brad Ringer.  I know how you did it, and I know why.  And I know the connection between the robberies and the murder.”

             
“That’s insane,” he stammered.

             
“I’m afraid not,” said Taylor.  To Susan, “Call the lieutenant.”

             
“Already on it.”

             
Just then, Jack jumped into his cart; Jim jumped in the passenger seat, and they sped off!

             
“What are they doing?”

             
“They’re getting away!” exclaimed Taylor.

             
Wearing a yellow shirt, Taylor had solved the case, but now the murderer was getting away.  She couldn’t let that happen.  “Brief the lieutenant,” she told Susan.

             
“What are you doing?”

             
“Driving.  Hop in.”

             
“I knew it,” exclaimed Susan.  “I just knew this would turn out bad.”

             
Susan stepped into the cart, but before she could sit, Taylor gunned it.  The golf cart slightly fishtailed on the turf and took off after the villains.  Nearly falling out, Susan managed to sit and keep the phone to her ear.  After the fifth ring, the lieutenant answered, “Arterman, here.”

             
“Lieutenant, where are you?”

             
“In my office.”

             
“Great, get backup and get out to the Formstaw Country Golf Course and hurry.  We’re chasing Brad Ringer’s murderer, and he may likely get away.  Hurry.”  Susan clicked off.  “He’s on his way,” she told Taylor.

             
Taylor swerved around two old ladies who were practice swinging.  “Good.” 

             
Jack traversed fairways, skillfully passing through a dense stand of trees.  Taylor tried to memorize the path he’d taken to get through all the trees unscathed.  She nervously said, “Hold on.”

             
The cart plunged in between the trees.  Taylor twisted the wheel this way and that, weaving her way and narrowly dodging trunks and bushes.  Sticks cracked underneath the tires, and a few times they were whapped in the face by low-hanging branches.  Running over a bush, they launched into the open and came down on a slippery fairway. 

             
“That was close.”

             
Lieutenant Jeff Arterman stuck his cell phone in his pocket, already standing and making his way for the door.  The captain stepped into the doorway.  “Who was that?”

             
Arterman bumped into the captain to get out, but the captain just stood there, immovable.  “It’s Taylor and Susan!  They’re in trouble.  Let me by.”

             
Captain Tony Hamell stared into Arterman’s eyes with a fierce glint.  “Where are they?”

             
“At the golf course.  They said they’ve solved the case.  Let me by.”

             
“They’re liars!” the captain ferociously yelled.  “And you don’t have my permission to take men out there with you.”

             
Arterman was getting angry now.  “Then I’ll go myself.”  He shoved himself into the captain, knocked him out of the way, and ran out of the police station.

             
Captain Hamell rose to his feet, cursed, and went into his office, slamming the door behind him.  Everyone in the room outside his office had watched in silence.  The captain closed his blinds so his office was dark and dialed a number on his cell phone.  “Ruby,” he said, “get the gang to the Country Golf Course.  Jack’s in trouble.  It’s the rowdy Taylor and Susan again.”

             
“Sure thing, Boss,” came the answer.

             
“And, Ruby, don’t mess up like Billy, unless of course you want the same fate.  And I can arrange that.”

             
“Sure thing.”

             
Click
.  The captain slunk into his chair, scared his cover might be blown.  Then he had an idea.  Throwing on a coat and tucking a mask into the inside pocket, he exited his office with an evil smile.

             
The wind was whipping in Taylor’s hair like a high-speed fan.  Compared to cars the golf cart was slow, but even so, it was faster than she’d expected.  Susan was still in the passenger seat moaning about every bump and trying to hold on for dear life.  In her words.

             
Jack was nearly one hundred feet in front of them, and he was ascending a green.  They watched as his cart dropped away over the knoll.  Taylor leaned forward and made sure both her hands were on the wheel.  Their cart roared onto the green.  “What’s on the other side?” asked Susan.

             
Seconds later they were going over the hill.  Taylor would have braked if she’d had time, for just a few feet before them was a deep sand pit, which explained why Jack’s car seemed to  have dropped so fast.  Then they were airborne.  The cart hit the ground, bounced, spun, and nearly tipped, coming to a sliding stop in the pit.  Susan was about to jump out when Taylor punched the throttle.

             
The cart bounded over the pit’s embankment and came down on the first cut.  Jack was still about one hundred feet in front.  Maybe a little more.  “Let’s just wait for the police,” stammered Susan.

             
“No time.”

             
Taylor saw Jim’s head rise as he reached into his back pocket.  “Uh-oh.”

             
“What’s ‘uh-oh?’”

             
“He’s got a gun.”

             
Susan clenched the shaft that was holding up the golf-cart’s roof.  Her knuckles turned white. 

             
“Think of it as Disneyland,” yelled Taylor over the wind and small golf-cart engine.  “Think of Jim as the yeti on the Matterhorn.  Or is it an abominable snowman?”

             
“This isn’t Disneyland!  Thank you very much!”

             
Jim turned in his seat, leveled his pistol, and stared down the sights. 
Boom!
  The gun ripped off a shot.  Taylor swore she saw the slug coming right at her, so she jerked the wheel.  The bullet whizzed through the middle of the cart.

             
Susan was breathing heavy.  “He’s not a yeti or a snowman!  Most notably, he has a gun!”

             
Taylor apologized.  “This is a switch,” she said.  “The guys with the guns usually do the chasing.”

             
“I concur.  And I think I’m going to disown you after this is over.”

             
“You’ll have to wait in line.  Jim has already filed his papers.”

             
“I’m next.”

             
Another gunshot!  This one tore into the golf-cart’s roof.  Plastic splinters rained down, dousing Taylor, Susan, and the floor of the vehicle.  Taylor got one in her eye and immediately blinked her eye shut and tried to rub it out.

             
Boom!  Boom!

             
Two more shots.  One hand on the wheel and one on her eye, Taylor accidentally jerked the wheel, and the golf cart shot left.  She instinctively spun it back, and they made a precarious turn back to the middle of the fairway.