Dream Killer

By Mike Baldwin

To fulfill her friend’s dream, legendary sports agent Veronica Townsend has constructed a kids’ summer camp on the farm where baseball hero John Jensen was raised. Camp Dream Catcher, though, is in danger of shutting down after a lifeguard is murdered. With cancellations pouring in, Veronica must solve the mystery in a desperate attempt to keep the camp open.

Veronica has persuaded Missy, her lovable assistant at Real Deal Sports in Manhattan, to be the camp’s bookkeeper. Missy is excited Pete, who works for San Jose’s pro baseball team, is spending a week at the camp during the All-Star break. But when Pete arrives, the camp is in disarray after the lifeguard is found dead in a cellar at a house seven miles from Camp Dream Catcher.

Director of the Omaha Boys and Girls Club, Ashley Webb has taken a sabbatical to oversee day-to-day operations at the camp in Burlington, Kansas. Ashley is convinced the camp can’t afford to stay open since the budget is drowning in red ink after Veronica spent nearly a million dollars of overtime to hurriedly get the project up and running.

Ashley also is concerned Veronica stubbornly refuses to close the camp despite evidence the killer may be a fellow staff member since camp lifeguards and counselors accounted for most of the guests at a wild party where the lifeguard was shot by his own gun.

Veronica gets assistance from former Major League All-Star Reggie Gordon, who has volunteered to serve as the camp’s director to pay tribute to John, a former teammate. After the lifeguard is murdered, Reggie is committed to assisting Veronica in her attempt to preserve John’s dream.

The sequel to Hall of Fame sportswriter Mike Baldwin’s debut novel, Dream Killer is a classic whodunit with numerous twists and turns in a fast-paced story packed with entertaining characters.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mike Baldwin
• Release date: Nov 14, 2015
• ISBN: 9781495182853

Mike Baldwin

A former sportswriter, Mike Baldwin has transitioned to becoming a full-time novelist who specialists in mysteries that feature female lead characters; classic whodunits that appeal to mystery fans of all ages and gender.Mike's niche is fast-paced stories about dynamic female lead characters involved in plots packed with twists and turns, capped by surprise endings. Sprinkling in humor, Mike injects thought-provoking elements to introduce readers to new experiences while they’re being entertained by a fun story.His favorite author is John Grisham because of his unique storytelling skills. Mike enjoys a well-written mystery whether it’s a page-turning novel or TV shows like Law & Order, Monk, Cold Case and Major Crimes. His favorite current series is “Suits,” simply because of the crisp, engaging dialogue. Mike’s only pet peeve is he believes many quality TV shows and commercials feature outstanding writing that rarely gets the attention it deserves.During his newspaper career at The Oklahoman, the Oklahoma City paper, Mike covered Super Bowls and Final Fours, interviewed countless Hall of Fame athletes and coaches and was blessed his career allowed him to see the country. He attended games in 80 of the 90 NFL stadiums, NBA arenas and Major League Baseball stadiums, plus visited more than fifty college campuses.The highlight of his career was when he wrote daily stories as a beat writer covering the Dallas Cowboys. For seven years, Mike covered owner Jerry Jones’ team during the Barry Switzer era when the Cowboys were led by future NFL Hall of Famers Troy Aikman, Emmitt Smith, Michael Irvin and Deion Sanders.An avid golfer, Mike was humbled and honored last year when he was inducted into the Oklahoma Christian University Sports Hall of Fame (class of 2015).

Book preview

DREAM KILLER

By Mike Baldwin

Copyright © 2015 Mike Baldwin

CHAPTER 1

Missy Sykes strolled towards three University of Missouri psychology majors sitting poolside and knew the perfect conversation starter.

MIZ—

With zeal in their voices, the three women in unison responded: —ZOU.

On a scorching hot July afternoon, dozens of kids splashed around a swimming complex on the Kansas prairie, a swimming complex so large it would fill an entire city block in Queens where Missy was born and raised. At the far end, boys and girls stood in line, each waiting to board four-person rafts that torpedoed down a three-story water slide.

Nearly a decade older than her new friends, Missy flopped into a chair shaded by an umbrella. When her boss arrived at Camp Dream Catcher the following day, Missy was certain Veronica Townsend, the legendary sports agent, would be extremely pleased how the entire project turned out.

The camp’s bookkeeper still wasn’t completely comfortable chatting with Rachel, Stephanie and Nikki. All three camp counselors had celebrated their twenty-first birthdays the past calendar year. Missy turned thirty a couple of weeks after Christmas. So what’s the hot topic, ladies?

We were talking about that lifeguard, quipped Rachel. The slightly chubby redhead nodded towards Tyler Reed sitting on a stand a dozen feet above the pool.

He’s adorable, Missy responded.

Adorable? Rachel retorted. Look at him!

A Hollywood-like face framed by raven locks, Tyler wore designer sunglasses which substantiated rumors his father was of one of the richest men in Kansas City. Without question, Tyler Reed was the most handsome lifeguard. He was gorgeous!

I think he’s gay, Nikki announced.

No way, Rachel snapped. This morning at breakfast a counselor said she was with him last night after all the kids were asleep in the cabins, but she refused to elaborate.

You don’t know the whole story.

I know you lied yesterday, Rachel clamored.

Lied? Lied about what?

You said you and Stephanie went to school with him. You lied.

We went to the same school. Pembroke Hill.

Six years apart! Rachel sounded like a prosecuting attorney presenting their closing argument in front of a jury. You were in seventh grade when Tyler was a senior. I bet you’ve never even met him.

Whatever.

Stephanie seemed oblivious to the discussion. The pencil thin brunette was scribbling notes in a spiral binder, her eyes fixated on the Olympic size pool with six diving boards.

What do you think, Stephanie? Missy asked.

Stephanie was low key, talked matter-of-fact. Don’t forget Nikki just took Professor Prescott’s class. These days, Nikki thinks everyone is gay.

Rachel snickered which didn’t amuse Nikki.

I’ve heard things, Nikki huffed. I don’t care if you agree with me or not.

Missy identified with the three women. None of the three Missouri psych majors drew stares like shapely counselors tanning on beach towels not far from Tyler’s lifeguard stand. Wearing a Camp Dream Catcher t-shirt, Missy knew what it felt like to be labeled kind of cute in a glamour world.

Stephanie, do you think Tyler is gay?

Who knows? Nikki and I have older brothers who hung out with Tyler one summer. The other day Nikki remembered why he looked familiar.

Why does it matter how well we know him? Nikki mouthed off.

Rachel leaped out of her chair. It’s time I introduced myself to Tyler Reed, ask him if he’ll be here next week for the grand opening.

It was Friday afternoon, a historic day for a camp that opened to rave reviews earlier in the week. Built in memory of former Major League home run slugger John Jensen, Missy’s boss was the mastermind behind the two-thousand-acre camp in Burlington, Kansas, a small town sandwiched one-hundred miles between Wichita and Kansas City.

Stephanie continued to jot down notes, alternating red and blue pens.

What’s in that notepad? Missy asked.

Stephanie was focused on kids splashing in the pool. A project I’m working on.

Missy wondered if Stephanie intentionally changed the subject. What’s the story on how you got involved with this camp?

My boss was Quake’s agent. They were really good friends.

Why did everyone call him Quake? Nikki asked.

Years ago when he was a young boy he was playing in a summer tournament. A small earthquake hit Emporia, the city that was hosting the tournament. John hit two home runs, which produced his nickname, Quake. Everyone called him Quake. Or Smashed Tater.

Did you say mashed potatoes? Nikki asked.

Smash-ed, ta-ter, Missy enunciated each syllable. Tater is slang for home run.

Nikki was fired up. This camp is awesome! The pond is too cool!

Missy emphasized the pond wasn’t a recreation. Fifty-year-old catfish lived at the bottom of the two-acre watering hole. For five decades, Quake’s father, grandfather and a hired hand farmed wheat and soybeans on some of the most fertile soil in Coffey County. Located a quarter mile beyond the giant slide, the pond served as an invaluable resource during a drought back when the land was being farmed.

John wanted to see the city kids’ faces when they felt moss squish between their toes, Missy said with a smile. I never experienced anything like this growing up in New York. The other day I thought of him when moss squished between my toes.

Stephanie collected her belongings, slung a backpack over her shoulder and announced she was headed to the pond. Before I leave I need some moss between my toes.

Once Stephanie exited the swimming complex, Missy hoped the question wasn’t too personal. What’s Stephanie’s deal?

What are you talking about?

She comes across as a fuddy-duddy.

I’ll tell you about it in a couple of minutes. I want to talk about this camp. It’s so amazing! In addition to the giant swimming facility and the raft slide, there’s horseback riding, beach volleyball, softball, the indoor basketball facility and soccer fields.

Nikki pointed east. The kids that don’t play sports have options like the computer lab and the arts-and-crafts center. I haven’t seen the ranch, yet. A couple of Ag kids told me the ranch has ten cows. Plus, they grow actual crops.

Quake wanted the farm to be preserved, build the camp around that pond.

Nikki tucked sandy locks behind her ears. I couldn’t live on a farm. I love malls too much. But I can’t imagine living in New York either. Too much hustle and bustle.

I’m just like these kids. This is a new experience for me. How long are you here?

I signed up for all four weeks. It should be a lot of fun! Nikki gazed at the giant slide. Just look around this place. It’s spectacular!

Are Rachel and Stephanie staying all summer, too?

Rachel is here two weeks. Stef is going home tonight. This is her only week. Stef has a lot on her plate. Nikki rolled her eyes. And, of course, Stef--

If this is too sensitive a subject we can talk about something else.

It’s no big deal. Stef and I were best friends growing up. Everything changed when she turned into a super nerd back in middle school. No one was surprised she made straight A’s at the most prestigious prep school in Kansas City.

In many ways, Missy was like Stephanie. I assume she never played sports?

She’s actually quite athletic, Nikki revealed. She’s into taekwondo.

Taekwondo? Stephanie?

She still dabbles in it for exercise. She’s a black belt. Stef’s not very competitive but I was told she could have won competitions. She was that good at one point.

Missy was floored. She’s so scrawny?

After we went our separate ways, a few years later we bumped into each other at a high school football game. After the game, we were talking in the parking lot when a jock and his two buddies started hitting on us. When one of his friends got a little handsy, Stef told them to leave us alone. They were trying to get us to party, but we knew what they really wanted.

Missy planted her elbows on the tempered glass table. What happened?

Her warning only encouraged them, especially the quarterback. All of a sudden Stef’s legs were like a buzz saw. Twice, she waylaid into that jerk. His mouth started bleeding. Once he stumbled to his feet, they walked away but he kept glancing back. It was pretty cool.

Unbelievable! I notice you call her Stef. Everyone else calls her Stephanie.

Stef is what she went by in elementary school. Nikki snapped her fingers to emphasize her next statement. Just like that Stef asked everyone to start calling her Stephanie. Do you have any idea what that project is about?

Missy shrugged her shoulders.

It’s her thesis for her master’s. It’s not due until December. Knowing Stef, she’ll have a seventy-page, double-spaced thesis, with footnotes, before the fall semester begins.

What’s the topic?

Social challenges facing inner-city kids. She called the camp in advance to get the names of all the kids on scholarship. She’s recording data on their social behavior at the pond compared to the swimming complex. She also monitors kids interacting in the cafeteria, the computer lab, and the sports complex. She specifically asked for inner-city kids. This is her second notepad. It took her only three days to fill the first one.

Missy calculated the total number of hours one would need to finish their masters’ so quickly. She’s that close?

I’m actually older. Stef doesn’t turn twenty-two until April.

You guys started college the same year?

Nikki nodded. I’m on schedule to graduate on time. When I walk across that stage next spring, Stef will be planning ahead for her PhD. She’s really into statistics. My guess is Stef will be in college her entire life, become a professor who works in research.

Missy’s jaw dropped. She sounds really smart but does she ever have any fun?

On occasion she’ll have a drink with us, but she hardly goes out.

After pausing momentarily, Nikki continued. I’ve seen her turn guys down, tell them she’s too busy. I tried to talk her into staying one more day and go to that party tomorrow night in New Strawn. Everyone’s been talking about it. We’ve heard two twins really know how to throw a party. To blow off some steam some of us are going to go check it out.

Are you talking about the Stilson twins, Ava and Emma?

Yeah, that’s their names. . . Do you know them?

It wasn’t the time, nor place, to explain how Missy knew the Stilson twins.

You should come to the party? Nikki encouraged.

Missy arranged to spend Saturday night at Sharon Kirkland’s house. The spunky farm woman’s husband died in February. Active for a woman who would turn seventy-four the week before Thanksgiving, Ms. Sharon was planning a trip to Australia if she could convince someone to accompany her.

Thanks, but I’ve already got plans, Missy said. Let’s have breakfast on Monday.

I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. Rachel is my best friend. I’d do anything for her. Sometimes she gets on my nerves. She has good intentions.

Do you mind telling me why you think Tyler is gay?

I was just messin’ with Rachel. We like to argue. What you saw today happens all the time. Sometimes it’s something as silly as ingredients in artichoke dip.

So you really don’t know anything about Tyler?

Nikki held up both palms. I didn’t say that. Two days ago, I remembered Tyler was a high school boy that we had a teenage crush on one summer.

Do you really think he’s gay? Missy asked again.

My brother is the one who claims he’s gay. His father is Spencer Reed, one of the richest men in Kansas City. Evidently, Tyler has sponged off his father’s money. My brother heard he once was homeless, lived in a cardboard box on the street for a month.

His father is one of the richest men in Kansas City and he was homeless?

This was several years ago. Tired of paying all of Tyler’s bills, his father kicked him out of the house to teach him a lesson. He informed Tyler it was time he discovered what it was like to live in the real world. Before I forget, Tyler was a stockbroker for one year and earned a degree in business finance at Harvard.

Harvard?

That’s his father’s alma mater. When he found out Tyler was homeless, actually lived on the street, his father was so embarrassed he resumed paying all of Tyler’s bills. One of the lifeguards said they’ve always hated one another.

Do you think he’s gay? Missy asked, curious what Nikki thought.

Maybe he’s afraid his father will cut off his funds again if he discovered Tyler was gay. His father is super conservative. My brother heard he also was arrested for something worse than a DUI. It sounds like it might have been drugs. Maybe he was dealing. Who knows?

His story sounds pretty weird.

Are you sure I can’t talk you into coming to the New Strawn party? Nikki pleaded. I was told the Stilson twins are your age.

Your age?

For the first time all week Missy was reminded her biological clock was ticking.

Camp Dream Catcher was a godsend. Kids? Missy was surrounded by one-hundred twenty kids and was having a grand time!

Seriously, I have plans. I’ll see you at the counselors meeting Sunday night when we go over plans for next week’s session. With my boss in town, plan to stay awhile. You might want to bring a sleeping bag.

####

Fifteen-years-old, Lexi was mature beyond her years. Part of that maturity could be traced to her religious upbringing. The entire family in Blue Springs, a Kansas City suburb, was ultra-religious. Most adults agreed Lexi was a special young lady capable of accomplishing anything she wanted, a go-getter born to be a civic leader or a CEO of a company.

Following a mission trip to Africa when she was twelve, Lexi was inspired to help the less fortunate. She volunteered all the time. Her primary goal at Camp Dream Catcher was to take someone under her wing, mentor a young girl down on her luck.

The first day she found the ideal person: Lexi’s heart ached after she heard the story of eleven-year-old Olivia, a Hispanic girl who had no idea who her father was. One winter, Olivia and her mother went without electricity, huddled together in a drafty home. At least that winter they had a home. On occasion, they were forced to live at the City Rescue mission.

Friday afternoon, the final day of the first session, camp director Reggie Gordon joined Lexi and Olivia, their feet dangled over the edge of the dock. Reggie sat to Lexi’s left.

An eight-time Major League All-Star third baseman, Reggie gave the camp instant credibility. The first night he retold his story, how he grew up dirt poor in Chicago, how he was tremendously blessed. He challenged every camper to passionately pursue their dreams, not let anyone dissuade or discourage them.

What’s up, ladies? Reggie asked. I’ve tried to meet as many kids as I could. This first week has been so hectic.

Lexi extended her hand. My name is Lexi. I’m from Blue Springs. This is my friend, Olivia. She lives in Topeka with her mother.

The personable African American baseball legend was attempting to get Lexi’s friend to open up. Olivia, what’s been your favorite part of camp?

The horse stables, she mumbled.

Olivia rode a horse for the first time yesterday, Lexi boasted.

I didn’t actually ride, Olivia responded meekly.

To Lexi’s surprise, Olivia rose to her feet and announced she wanted to say goodbye to someone before she returned home to Topeka.

As Olivia strolled up the hill, Lexi jabbered non-stop. Some of the boys told me you were really good at baseball. I Googled you. They said you there’s a chance you could get voted into the Hall of Fame. I hope you get in.

Thanks, Lexi. If you don’t mind me asking, what’s Olivia’s story?

Lexi looked into his compassionate brown eyes. It’s really sad, Mr. Gordon. Olivia and her mother have nothing. It sounds like there are times they can’t pay the electric bill. It’s unfair someone has to grow up in that type of environment.

Kids like Olivia are the main reason Veronica Townsend convinced me to get involved. Now that I’m retired I’m home a lot more. After hearing this camp was Quake’s idea, my family fully supported my decision.

Now that I’ve gotten to know her, Olivia would have fit in much better next week.

Reggie scratched his bald head. Sorry, Lexi, I’m confused.

Missy, the woman who works in the main office, told me most kids this week are from affluent backgrounds.

I’ll make sure Olivia meets with someone on our staff before she leaves. Since I grew up in the projects, I can definitely relate.

Even though she’d have fit in better next week, I’m thankful she came this week or I’d never met her. It’s like The Good Book says: ‘God works in mysterious ways.’

Let me see what I can do. Maybe we can arrange a better fit for her next summer.

That’s really nice of you, Mr. Gordon. Speaking of being nice, I don’t know who was responsible but someone gave Olivia a cell phone with sixty pre-paid minutes. You should have seen her face. She reacted like she’d won the lottery!

Reggie gazed around the camp. There’s a lot of work that still needs to be done, but what an opportunity to impact young people’s lives.

You guys have done a super job! I’ve had so much fun this week.

The way I view it, we’re watering seeds, trying to keep the weeds out. Inner-city kids need to be reminded they have options besides drugs and crime. This camp could be a great influence. Plus, I owe it to Quake, one of the nicest men you’d ever meet.

Lexi broke out into an ear-to-ear smile. Can you keep a secret?

Sure.

Olivia doesn’t know it, but I’m planning a big surprise for her if my parents are willing to help. Once I tell them her story I bet they’ll jump at the chance.

So, what’s this secret?

Lexi’s face lit up. Olivia has never been on a vacation. When I told her about the week my family went to Disney World, she was mesmerized. Remember, don’t say anything. I want it to be a surprise, but I’m hoping I can take Olivia and her mother to Orlando.

You’re a special young lady.

Lexi noticed Olivia was returning to the pond. Once again, it appeared she had been crying. Early in the week she was homesick. Mid-week, a mean-spirited boy from Emporia called her white trash and made fun of her tattered tennis shoes.

All week long, Lexi found ways to assist her new friend. She asked Missy to give Olivia several camp t-shirts she could wear proudly in Topeka, including a couple her mother’s size.

Mr. Gordon, thanks! Lexi grabbed his shoulders to prevent Reggie from seeing her friend’s tears. I was hoping to spend some time with Olivia before camp ends.

No problem.

Reggie offered a sincere smile. Joy is infectious. You’re overflowing with joy, Lexi. May God smile upon your path regardless where the path leads you.

While Reggie walked towards the sports complex, Olivia shuffled to the dock.

What’s wrong? Lexi asked.

Olivia used her forearm to wipe her nose. I’d rather not talk about it.

Lexi wanted to lighten the mood.

Give me that number on your new phone. I’m going to give you a call next week. . . Was it Brad, that insensitive brat from Emporia?

No, Olivia answered, trying to suppress tears. Can we talk about something else?

We still have two hours before that bus arrives to take you back to Topeka. Let’s go horseback riding. You were getting the hang of it yesterday. I bet you Ms. Tomlinson lets you ride by yourself today.

Lexi jumped to her feet, reached down and grabbed her friend’s hand. Hand in hand the Camp Dream Catcher pals strolled down a cedar-chip path towards the horse stables.

CHAPTER 2

It was the type of job that would make Ashley Webb’s resume sparkle. A month shy of her twenty-sixth birthday, Ashley was taking a sabbatical to work at Camp Dream Catcher. Her regular job was director of The Omaha Boys and Girls Club.

Veronica Townsend made the offer so tempting Ashley couldn’t turn it down. Over three months, which included two months planning for the grand opening, Ashley would earn nearly double compared to nine-months salary at her Omaha job.

Blown away by the sixty-thousand-dollar offer — twenty-thousand a month — Ashley discovered the camp’s founder approached life one-hundred miles an hour. The sports agent also set extremely high standards. One of her favorite lines was: Failure isn’t an option, merely an opportunity to discover a solution.

It was Saturday afternoon. The sports agent would arrive any minute. Ashley went over the game plan in her head. Camp Dream Catcher became the Disneyland of summer camps the day it debuted earlier in the week. Ashley was amazed they opened on time eight months after the ceremonial press conference was held the week after Halloween.

Ashley, though, knew the reasons why the camp opened on schedule and was receiving kudos. Veronica threw so much money at the project the original budget would be drowning in red ink. Accustomed to working on a shoestring budget at the Boys and Girls Clubs, it was mind boggling how much money was being poured into a kids’ camp on a farm.

Five minutes later, dressed in stylish beige slacks and a navy-blue blouse. Veronica walked into the office and sat at co-director Reggie Gordon’s desk.

Located at the top of the hill, headquarters provided a breathtaking view of the entire camp, including the agriculture center on the southeast corner of the property. Girls’ bunks were located on the west side, the boys’ cabins on the opposite side a couple hundred feet from the swimming complex. Cabins were separated by a valley that featured a campfire amphitheater, an ideal configuration that accommodated up to one-hundred-fifty campers, plus all forty staff members and the majority of high school and college students who volunteered.

Ashley was conflicted. She wanted to tell Veronica the truth, but it was a sensitive subject considering the famous sports agent on more than one occasion uttered the phrase: Money is no object. Ashley was certain no one on staff was concerned about the camp’s reckless spending, especially after Veronica sent out an e-mail stating how proud she was of everyone’s contributions that made the first week a smashing success.

You’re doing a fabulous job, Ashley, Veronica said. I had a good feeling the day I hired you. I knew you’d be perfect for this job. I can’t tell you how thankful I am for everything you’ve done.

Ashley twisted in her seat. Now she was really conflicted. Veronica sounded like a parent bragging on a child who brought home straight A’s. In addition to the ultra-generous sixty-thousand-dollar salary, the sports agent was validating two months of planning.

We’ve received a lot of positive publicity, Ashley said, trying not to brag. The story in USA Today said there’s not another camp like it in the entire country.

I’ve read them. Hopefully, Quake would be proud how the camp turned out. I owed it to him to make sure this camp assists young people during those coming-of-age years. I simply took the designs he had drawn up and added a few things here and there.

A few things? Veronica Townsend added a lot of things.

When Ashley began working on the project in Omaha, she discovered the former fan favorite was a gentle giant famous for crushing a home run three years ago that clinched the World Series for the San Jose Piranhas.

John Jensen, though, had a much simpler idea. His barebones vision was to construct a swimming complex next to the pond and section off one-square mile for farming and ranching.

I’m sure you noticed a lot of work still needs to be done, Ashley injected. She wanted to discuss a lengthy list of concerns without dampening the sports agent’s enthusiasm. That might be impossible if Veronica constantly handed out compliments.

I talked briefly with my assistant, Missy, who takes care of the bookkeeping. While I’m thinking about it, what do you think of Missy?

Ashley scratched the mouse pad in front of her computer. "It’s been so crazy this first week, we’ve really only talked once. She works really hard. I know