Chat-Town Ten-A-Key

By William E Wilson

Frank Williams did not know what life had in store for him as he waited that morning at the airport for the arrival of his two closest friends from his college days. His life was about to change in a way he never dreamed of. During the following days, months, and years, he

• Language: English
• Publisher: Book Vine Press
• Release date: Jun 15, 2021
• ISBN: 9781954941960

William E Wilson

Mr. Wilson begin writing after retiring and has published four different genres of fiction to date. This being his latest. He debated as to the subject matter, but once again settled on writing another suspense thriller. He likes combining the feeling of surprise, anticipation of success, vagueness and uncertainty, including the readers expectation of what comes next. So many areas are open to him giving his readers that array of variety, range of moods, and diversity which he includes in all his works.

Book preview

Chapter 1

It’s 2001. Frank Williams arrived earlier than expected at the airport after leaving the hotel in order to avoid the early morning traffic around the airport. He had picked a bad time. Just his luck. The morning commuters were on their way to work, forgetting it was Friday, not the weekend. The friends he was to pick up were scheduled to arrive at noon. They were flying down from Northeast Tennessee near Pigeon Forge and the Great Smoky Mountains. They had been planning this weekend getaway for the past six months. They were meeting to do the touristy thing, taking in the sights and local culture around Chattanooga. Chattanooga, famous for its River Park along the Tennessee River, great restaurants, the walking bridge, aquarium, railroad museum, Rock City, several caves, and one can’t forget the incredible incline ride up and down Lookout Mountain.

After arriving at Lovell Field, Frank spotted John Grende, another old college friend. He at one time lived up the road from Chattanooga in Soddy Daisy. He decided to walk over and say hi. It had been years since Frank had seen him, and was curious why and who he was waiting for at the airport.

Had Phil or Junior mentioned to John they were coming down this weekend get-together? The more I watched John, the more concerned I became. He looked nervous as he looked around like someone was keeping tabs on him, so I decided against adding more drama to the situation.

I continued watching John from afar, when suddenly I caught a glimpse of someone approaching quickly from his blind side. As the individual approached John, I noticed a gun in his right hand. He stopped and took hold of John with his left arm around his neck. Next thing I heard was a loud gunshot as it reverberated throughout the terminal. Everyone, including me, was taken by surprise, aghast as to what just occurred.

People close to the shooting began running and screaming, Look out! He’s got a gun! Caught off guard as the shot rang out, I froze in place; I could not move. I was transfixed as I watched the gunman quickly release my friend, who fell immediately onto the floor in the lobby.

After regaining my faculties, I looked around the terminal to see if I could make sense out of what just happened. I no longer saw the gunman; he had vanished into the crowd as quickly as he appeared. Slowly, regaining my wits, I rushed over to give aid and comfort to my friend now lying on the cold, hard floor, bleeding profusely from the gunshot.

As I bent down, I placed my hand on his left shoulder and told him to lay still and not move. I was sure the airport officials had notified both police and paramedics and that help was on the way. As I leaned in closer, touching my friend’s forehead, brushing the hair from his face he slowly opened his eyes.

He looked up at me and recognized who I was and said, Help me, Frank!

I told him, I’m here for you, John.

Lean in closer. I have a favor to ask of you.

Sure. What is it?

With much difficulty, John whispered, I was waiting for a confidential informant [CI] arriving from Atlanta. A case I’ve been working on for six months with FBI agents in Atlanta and Nashville involving a large drug distribution ring. They’ve been supplying large amounts of drugs around Chattanooga for past several years. I’ve been in contact with this informant for some time now, and he was coming to help set up a meeting with one of the kingpins inside the local organization this evening.

As he lay on the floor coughing and gurgling, blood slowly oozed from his mouth and caused him great difficulty breathing.

John slowly reached inside his jacket and pulled out his card and handed it to me.

I need you to contact my office here in Chattanooga and let them know what’s happened so they can send someone out here before my informant changes his mind and returns to Atlanta.

You bet. I can do that. Lay still, John. Don’t move. I hear a siren in the distance. Sounds like help’s on the way.

As I anxiously awaited the paramedic’s arrival, I bent down and whispered to John, Don’t worry, old buddy. I’ll get in touch with your office once you’re on the way to the hospital.

I was not sure what I had gotten myself involved in, but whatever it was, I felt obliged in following through with my promise to John.

The paramedics, upon arrival, pushed a stretcher quickly through the terminal to where a small crowd had gathered around John. As paramedics approached, I could see my friend was having trouble breathing. The paramedics asked everyone gathered around John to step back and to give them room.

One of the paramedics kneeled down beside John and asked, What’s your name?

John.

What day is it? He also answered that question correctly. Do you know where you are? John answered in the affirmative. On a scale from one to ten, how difficult are you finding it to breathe?

John hesitated, then said, Nine.

John answered all the questions the best he could between coughing and trying to breathe, telling the paramedics he thought his right lung had collapsed.

After hearing what John told him, the paramedic stood up and instantly began hooking him up to the oxygen tank lying on top of the stretcher. Once the breathing apparatus was securely over John’s face and oxygen turned on, his breathing became less laborious and breathing returned to normal.

At this point, John began going in and out of consciousness as paramedics did what they could to stabilize him before placing him on the gurney. After being stabilized and placed on the gurney, they continued applying pressure on the wound, as the bleeding slowed to a trickle from the gunshot.

Before leaving the terminal, I asked one of the paramedics, Is he going to make it?

He responded by saying, Yes, his chances are good. If only the bleeding does not start up again.

What hospital are you taking him to?

Erlanger.

Time was of the essence.

They quickly put him in the back of the ambulance and closed the double doors sped down the airport drive toward the main road and to the hospital but not before informing staff at the hospital that they were on the way.

A short time later, one of the local policeman still remained on scene at the airport by the name of Officer Miller, who approached me.

Excuse me, but did you know the injured party? And did you happen to witness the shooting?

Yes.

I explained to Officer Miller, I’d been waiting in the lobby for friends of mine arriving on a flight from northeast Tennessee. And as I awaited their arrival, I happened to spot the victim, John Grende, another friend I had not seen in years, and as I was about to go over and say hi, that’s when all hell broke loose.

I wasn’t thinking at the time what John asked me to do, which was to contact the FBI. I should have mentioned it to the police but didn’t think of it at the time. If I’d mentioned my conversation with John, I’m sure it would only have complicated matters.

My life in Florida had been complicated enough lately. I didn’t need more melodrama at the moment, if you know what I mean.

I gave Officer Miller as much information as I could recall concerning the shooting and shooter. It was sketchy at best, but I did my best in describing every minute detail I could recall. It happened so fast; everything leading up to the shooting was still a bit hazy. After my interview with Officer Miller; I walked over to one of the lounge chairs in the lobby and sat down. Again waiting for the flight from northeast Tennessee, trying to calm down and get my head on straight before my friends’ arrival.

John Grende was someone I met while attending a small college north of Knoxville in the early sixties. John happened to be my roommate for the two years I attended. We became friends and did everything together when not in class. I hated seeing him get shot. He had always been such a strong-willed person. I was sure he would pull through this with flying colors like everything else he attempted to achieve or complete.

I had moved out of state several years prior to returning to Chattanooga for this weekend with the boys. In the interim, I lost contact with John but kept in contact with Phil and Junior. I thought it would be fun to reconnect and meet in Chatanooga, where we could spend time together and enjoy the weekend catching up on all the gossip since our college days. My friends were scheduled to arrive just before noon. By the time they arrived, all the excitement had settled down at the airport and was back to normal.

Needless to say, I was not in the best of moods upon their arrival. Also, I could not recall if they knew John. I was not sure if they met while attending college. I left school in the early sixties and joined the Air Force and never returned to college. Consequently, I never knew if they hooked up after I left.

As the years passed, I felt the need to reconnect, and that’s the reason for the mini vacation. I wanted to know what was going on in their lives, how they were coping with everyday life, and how successful they had become. I was curious at what choices they made in life, where they worked, how married life was, if they had children, and how life in general was treating them. Plus, it would be fun seeing them again.

It would be nice to see old friends, shoot the bull, lie a bit, and tell war stories about ourselves since last we were together.

The flight from northeast Tennessee arrived, I got up from my seat and meandered over to airside near the entrance leading from the tarmac to the terminal. I recognized them immediately as they came through the door. We shook hands, hugged each other, then proceeded through the lobby toward the entrance/exit. They did not have to wait on luggage; they packed light and were able to store their grips in the overhead bin on the plane. We walked outside to where I parked my car. After I opened the trunk, they put their grips inside. I drove to the hotel we were staying at for the weekend. We had booked reservations at the Read House on Broadstreet not far from the river. We arrived at the hotel, signed in, and were escorted to our rooms, along with our grips. We reserved adjoining rooms, which made it easy getting together later.

Once in my room, the first thing I did was call the hospital and inquired about John and how he was holding up. I was informed he was in the operating room at the time undergoing surgery. But overall, his condition was stable; it looked like he would fully recover.

After my conversation with the nurse, I suddenly remembered the card John gave me. I removed the card from my coat pocket then reached over and once again picked up the house phone. The phone was answered on the third ring. A masculine voice answered.

Hello. FBI headquarters, Nashville division. Agent Brocklesby speaking. May I be of assistance?

I was taken aback when I heard the initial response on the phone.

Yes…my name is Frank Williams…I…was asked to call this number. A friend of mine, John Grende, wanted me to inform you what happened to him earlier today.

Yes, Mr. Williams. I know John Grende. What happened to him?

"He was in the lobby at Lovell Field here in Chattanooga waiting the arrival of a passenger from Atlanta when John was approached by an individual who grabbed him by his neck, pulling him in close. He shoved a gun into his right side and shot him. I witnessed the whole fiasco.

Afterward, John was rushed to Erlanger Hospital where he is now undergoing surgery. I was told by one of the paramedics before they transported John to the hospital about his chances for survival. The paramedic assured me his chances surviving the gunshot was good. I called the hospital before I called you. They told me he was in the operating room and I should call later to check on his condition after surgery which I will do later this evening.

I want to thank you for calling and giving me that information. We may want to talk to you later concerning Mr. Grende, if that is okay with you.

Yes, but before we hang up I need to give you my number at the hotel where I’m staying. Plus my home phone number since I’ll be leaving early next week heading back to Florida. If there is anything I can do to assist you in your investigation, please don’t hesitate to call.

Thank you, Mr. Williams, for letting us know about Agent Grende. You and your friends have a good weekend. I’ll be in contact. After my conversation with FBI Agent Brocklesby, I took a quick shower, changed clothes, then hustled downstairs to meet my friends in the lobby. They were in the lobby, checking out the tour guides in a rack near the check-in counter. As I approached, they looked up, saw me, and immediately we began laughing and cutting up. Things had not changed; it was like we’ve never been separated those many years prior.

We left the lobby. And as we walked outside, spotted a restaurant nearby. We headed to the restaurant where we ate a late lunch. It was like an old home week. We were excited at being together once again. We were giddy like young boys, teasing each other about their first kisses. We were still full of spunk as when we were together at school. Time seems to have stood still. Nothing had changed. We were still the same people we were then. The only difference was we were now showing our age. Years of separation seemed surreal. We were having a hard time controlling ourselves just as we did back then. Once we finished eating, things calmed down. That’s when I told them the dreamlike incident I encountered at the airport prior to their arrival earlier that day.

After I finished my story of John being shot inside the terminal, they were as shocked and surprised as I had been. This was not the way we envisioned our weekend would start as we renewed our friendships. Having so little control over what happens in our lives, we are not able to pick or choose certain events. We live with the hand we are dealt and can only pick up the pieces of life’s puzzle and rearrange them in context relevant to a particular event as we continue our daily struggle. Time stops for no one.

After a late lunch, we went back to the hotel after deciding to meet later in the hotel’s bar and have a nightcap before calling it a day. Next morning, I decided to get up early and go down for the continental breakfast the hotel offered guests. I was having a bowl of cereal when Phil and Junior walked in. I smiled and waved as they headed over to where the assortment of food was displayed. They filled their plates and bowls then proceeded to the table where I sat. After sitting down, we picked up where we left off the night before, discussing the events of the prior day. As we talked, we overheard a group sitting at a nearby table, talking about the big weekend’s activity down by the river. When we finished breakfast, and decided to take a walk down to the river and see for ourselves what all the excitement was about. Whatever was going by the river this weekend had to be big and sounded interesting.

Chapter 2

It was early Saturday morning, and not wanting to miss a thing, we left the hotel and walked north on Broadstreet toward the Tennessee River. I was remembering back as I passed certain areas. I noticed several buildings had been torn down or replaced with newer venues. Downtown had gone through a notable change since my last visit. I found it hard to believe how the municipality in such a short time had transformed itself from a sleepy, laid-back town into such a modern and vibrant city since moving away. The city had been reborn, and excitement was everywhere, especially noticeable as we neared the river. The area by the water was alive with people from every walk of life, enjoying the festivities going on along the river’s edge.

As we got closer to the river and masses of people milling around, I wondered, What had the people so captivated? Soon my question was answered. As we approached the river, we began seeing numerous kayaks lining the riverbank, and several could be seen gliding smoothly up and down the river as we arrived. We learned from a bystander that there were kayak racers from all over the country gathered to compete in the Chattajack race. It was a thirty-one mile kayak race downriver ending at Hales Bar Marina, located on Nickajack Lake. The race quickly piqued our interest. Plus still several spots along the riverbank from which to view the racers unencumbered. What a great way to start our weekend. It was exciting as we sat on the riverbank, watching small craft at blazing speeds go up and down the river. It was truly remarkable how fast these small crafts traveled.

We spent the entire morning watching kayaks race up and down the river, but we were limited on time, it was time we headed over to the aquarium only a short distance from where we sat. It had been years since any of us had been to an aquarium, especially one so awe-inspiring as the one here in Chattanooga. I was looking forward to visiting the freshwater aquarium. The only aquarium I had previously visited was the saltwater aquarium in Tampa, Florida. I was curious at the difference between salt and freshwater fishes, especially size and types of fish on display inside the aquarium. After our visit to the aquarium, I came away with a new appreciation for freshwater fish. I was amazed at the kinds of fish and numbers of species inhabiting the freshwater rivers and lakes in and around the immediate area. By the time we finished at the aquarium, it was time for lunch. We walked across the street and found several restaurants. That’s when Phil spotted the Big River Grille & Brewing restaurant and thought that would be the place to try. He said he heard of it before leaving home from a friend who recently visited Chattanooga.

His friend told him before leaving, If you have a chance while in Chattanooga, you visit Big River. It’s the place to go.

With his recommendations, it was off to Big River for lunch. We walked into the restaurant, which was already packed with tourists and locals. We were told as we entered it was at least a twenty-minute wait before we would be seated. Thinking back, when living in Chattanooga in the early and midfifties, this old building housed the city bus garage. My, how things have changed. Before long, the hostess handed each of us a menu.

She asked, Would you fellows care for a drink while waiting?

Yes, I said. I would like one of your local house brews. Which one would you suggest? Not being familiar with the different beers, I needed some input on the minibrews. There we so many to choose from.

Yes, I understand your plight. Being new here can be a bit perplexing. May I recommend you try one of our award-winning minibrewed beers such as Iron Horse Stout, our own Sweet Magnolia American Brown Ale.

With her recommendation, we decided on the Iron Horse Stout.

Good choice. I’ll get you three glasses of Iron Horse Stout. Be right back, she said.

As we sat looking over the huge menu, it was not long until a server returned with our beer. After looking over the menu, we had trouble deciding what to order. After getting our beer, the hostess returned and told us our table was ready. We were seated near the middle of the restaurant with a clear view of the entire place. After seated, our waiter came to the table and asked if we were ready to order.

Still undecided, I asked the waiter, What would you recommend for lunch? The menu is so large, so many entrees. It’s like not being able to see the forest for the trees, if you catch my drift.

Yes, may I suggest you try our pepperoni and mushroom pizza? It is made with our famous signature crust and our own homemade dough, with an ounce or so of our magnolia brown ale, then it is hand tossed.

I looked at the other two, and decided on the pepperoni and mushroom pizza.

Okay, sounds great. We’ll have the jumbo one. The waiter chuckled and said, They’re all jumbo.

Another chuckle could be heard from us as we looked at each other.

The waiter disappeared quickly with our order. We sat as we reminisced about old times while attending college. It seemed so long ago, but being together this afternoon, it felt like only yesterday. We change, the world continues turning on its axis, and everything changes but time, as it stays constant and does not deviate. And people, especially the people who slowly change over time as does everything else around us, but not time.

After lunch, we returned to the hotel and picked up my car. We drove out to Lookout Mountain and rode the incline up to Point Lookout. I told Phil and Junior from that vantage point, you could see all of Chattanooga, plus Big Bend. Big Bend is a section of the river in the shape of a horseshoe and that it reminded me of a peninsula jetting out into the river. That section of land surrounded by the river was constantly changing its path as it slowly meandered around the bend.

I also mentioned Missionary Ridge on the east side of Chattanooga where part of the Civil War had been fought. One could not forget Signal Mountain due north. From that vantage on Point Lookout, you got a sense of what it looked and felt like fighting a battle between Missionary Ridge and Lookout Mountain during the Civil War. There’s still several cannons left over from the Civil War sitting silently in the park used during battle. They appear like silent sentries guarding the hallowed grounds where so many died for what they believed in. After our tour of Point Lookout, returned to the incline for the ride back down off the mountain.

We made it back to the hotel in time to freshen up before our evening romp about town. After a brief respite, met in the lobby to decide where to have dinner. We decided on the Boathouse restaurant, located only a couple of miles or so east of downtown on the river. On our way to the restaurant, we passed nearby Erlanger Hospital where John was being attended to after being shot. I told my friends we should visit him tomorrow. We all agreed.

Upon entering the Boathouse, we were met by the hostess, who seated us near a window looking the river. One could see the reflection of lights burning brightly in the buildings across the river. They were twinkling on the water as the river gently flowed west, plus the lights reflecting from the three bridges spanning the river leading in and out of Chattanooga. The view had to be absolutely captivating. We agreed it was one of the highlights of the trip.

After dinner, we returned downtown where we took in a movie at the IMAX theater near the river. None of us had been to an IMAX, but we heard how terrific they were. We were amazed at the size and clarity of the huge curved screen. It was as if you were part of the action onscreen. The sound was extraordinary. The only thing was the sound was extremely loud, which I could have done without. Guess it was for effect.

After the IMAX, it was back to the hotel, ending a perfect day. We were exhausted but still a bit hyper. After parking the car, Junior suggested we check out one of the local taverns along Broadstreet and have a nightcap. That sounded good to Phil and me. We soon found a small beer joint; nothing fancy, mind you. Upon entering the establishment, the smell of cigarette smoke, stale beer, and loud juke box hit you like a ten-pound sledgehammer. We did not mind as we were enjoying the camaraderie.

Sitting at the bar, I happened to glance out the large picture window to my right when I saw the individual—the one at the airport who shot John. I could not believe my eyes when I saw him walk by. I told Phil and Junior what I saw, and immediately all three of us jumped up and rushed outside. Sad to say, by the time we reached the sidewalk, the street and sidewalk were completely deserted. He disappeared like a ghost, just as he had vanished after the shooting at the airport. We went back inside and finished our drinks, then back to the hotel. It was late when we reached the hotel, exhausted after such a long and hectic day, decided to call it a night and headed to our rooms to rest up for tomorrow’s activities. It was to be another busy day on tap. A full schedule was ahead of us.

I entered my room after saying good night to Phil and Junior, and I immediately sat down on the overstuffed chair in the corner, still thinking of the figure I saw pass by the window at the beer joint. I was positive. No doubt in my mind, it was the same person I had seen earlier at the airport.

I would wait until morning before informing the local police. It would be futile to try informing them tonight. I would also contact the FBI, but what could I tell them that would shed more light on the shooter? I had nothing new to add to the mix other than seeing him briefly through a window while sitting at the bar. I was confused at this point as to what I should do next. I had a difficult time sleeping as I lay awake, thinking how close I had been to the shooter but yet so far. I’m sure it was him, or was my mind playing tricks? Had he become just as aloof as a ghost appearing and disappearing into thin air?

Next morning, I called the local police and informed Officer Miller what I has seen the night before. I was not able to describe anything new or more than the first time I saw the individual. But at least I let Officer Miller know the shooter was still in town. He thanked me and told me he appreciated the information.

I’ll have my patrolmen working that area to keep a lookout for the elusive shooter. Maybe something will turn up that is relevant to the case, Officer Miller replied.

After talking to Officer Miller, I called the hospital to check on John.

The nurse I spoke with at the hospital informed me, Mr. Grende is still in serious but stable condition. He is resting comfortably, and his breathing has returned to normal.

I then asked, Would it be possible to visit him? And if so, what are the visiting hours?

Yes, he is coherent enough to receive visitors. And visiting hours are any time after eight a.m. to eight p.m. daily, she said.

I thanked her and hung up the phone.

My phone rang almost immediately after speaking with the hospital. It was Phil, letting me know him and Junior were up and ready to head downstairs for breakfast, and he wanted to know if I would like to join them.

Yes, I’ll meet you two in about ten minutes. I still have a few things I need to do before leaving, I responded.

I hung the phone up, finished dressing, and was out the door in less than seven minutes. Phil and Junior had finished with the breakfast bar and seated, enjoying their breakfast as I arrived. After filling my plate at the breakfast bar, I joined them.

As we talked, I told them, I called the hospital earlier and inquired about John’s condition. The head nurse told me he’s doing quite well, as well as can be expected after such a life-threatening experience. I asked about visiting hours, and she told me what they were, and John that was up to having visitors if interested. I told her I was and would be driving out to see him later. I asked Phil and Junior, "Would you two like to take a ride out to the hospital after we eat and visit John before we strike out for the

Reviews for Chat-Town Ten-A-Key

[Faye · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I bought this book because I knew my elderly mother would love it. She never put it down. Will buy more of his books !

[mary campbell · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Chat-Town is my favorite of Mr. Wilson’s “Town” books, partly because I live in the Chattanooga area. He most eloquently described the sites and sounds of Chattanooga and its surrounding areas. Additionally, he skillfully wrote about how the FBI and investigative bodies worked to rid the area of crime, all the while weaving in a beautiful love story. Excellent book!