Deaths-Men

By Lewis H. Clarke

As a middle-aged man, Luke Spanton had semi-retired to a small town in
eastern Utah. Ballard was defi nitely a small town and thats just the way Luke
liked it. He had taken a part-time job selling irrigation equipment for a local
Farmers Equipment Supply Store. It was a hot Friday afternoon and just after
passing through Blanding on his way home, empty handed, his cell phone rang.
It was his boss and he was pissed. Luke had failed to close a deal on a large
sale of irrigation equipment and his boss was in no mood to hear excuses.
As Luke crested the ridge north of Blanding, thankfully for him, he lost cell
phone reception. What a wasted day he thought, as he drove on in the heat. All
was fi nally silent, at least until Monday or so he thought. Luke had no idea that
he was about to witness an assassination and that for the next few weeks his
life would become the biggest nightmare he could ever imagine.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 31, 2009
• ISBN: 9781450001854

Lewis H. Clarke

Vital stats: Born: August 1946 Family: Wife, Dot Daughters: Corilee, Carma, Dusty. Step-daughters: Chris, Jennifer and Step-son: Brian plus six grandkids. Residence: Novato, California Previous Jobs: Raised on a dairy farm, Ontario Canada. Moved to Northern British Columbia,1960. Ranch- hand, oilfield welder, Class A Guide and Outfitter; bush pilot. Moved to California 1987; Highway maintenance contractor. Now: Taking some time out to write. Favorite author’s: James A. Michener Jack London Louis Lammour Robert Service Michael Crighton James Patterson John Grisham

Book preview

Copyright © 2009 by Lewis H. Clarke.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

Xlibris

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

54931

Contents

Introduction

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Four

Chapter Twenty Five

Chapter Twenty Six

Chapter Twenty Seven

Introduction

This book came from some rather unusual beginnings. It all started back in 1983 when my father published a book, From the Beginning to the End, based on his experiences and philosophy of life. He spent several years putting his book together, writing it by hand, while out on his trap line in northern British Columbia. He spent the long cold winter nights sitting by the wood stove, with only the light from a single kerosene lamp. He wrote, edited and rewrote each of the 250 odd pages. He was 75 years old at the time. It was a struggle for him but with patience, perseverance and a lot of help from his friends he finally got it published. He was determined to finish it before the grim reaper caught up to him.

He didn’t write it to make money; he never was interested in promoting his book. He wrote it rather, to get off his chest, a long held conviction that the world was fast going to hell in a hand basket. It wasn’t a book that was on the top ten list by any means but he got great comfort and satisfaction from knowing that he had placed on the written record, his point of view.

After he had completed his book and it was published, I recall him urging me to write. Not necessarily for the same reasons he had, but as record of my own life’s experiences. At the time I brushed his remarks aside, saying to him, Write about what?

I

Over the years since that time many other people have suggested that I write a book. Each time I rejected their ideas as far fetched. I still am probably right but in any event, early 2001 my wife once again brought up the subject. In a moment of weakness I succumbed; but where to start? I had the basic skills, a computor and most of all the time but how do you write a book that people would want to read? How do you hook the audience in so they will read about someone else’s life.

I went to the internet to look at perhaps publishing there but that still seemed too risky to me but I did find that many people were self-publishing through short run printing shops specializing in this industry. While talking to one these persons on the phone, regarding my upcoming book about my life’s history, it was politely pointed out to me that, my mother might care, my father might care, my brothers and sister may care; no one else was going to give a dam. It has to be a novel.

So there I was, shattered! What was the sense of going on with such a project? In the end my fathers words made me believe that I could do it. Whether or not it would make any money, that idea I set aside. Just do it. Were his words In the end I just changed names and places. It made it much easier and allowed me to free myself from worrying if someone might be upset about how they were portrayed in my book. They were now, all fictional characters; it made it easy.

II

Two/ thirds of the way through my first book, one night I had a very vivid dream. You know how, often we dream these incredable dreams and then by the following morning they are frequently difficult to remember? From the very start of this dream some part of my subconsciousness realized that this was an incredible story and that it was a perfect opening for a novel. I purposely dragged myself awake from the dream, in the very early part of it because I just knew it would work as a hook for a book. I sat up in bed and committed to my conscious memory, the whole scene.

The following day I sat down to write and it all came streaming out. Just like my printer, when, I sometimes tell it to cancel a printing job but often the next time I turn it and the computer on, whalla, there goes my printer, finishing the job. Well believe it or not but even though I had awakened myself in the very early part of the story, the rest of it had already been transfered to my RAM. I wrote this book in less than a month and it only took that long, due to my typing ability, or lack there of and other commitments. It took me three months to finish my first book. True story!

I hope you enjoy Deaths-Men, a work of fiction; the manifestation of a dream.

Lewis H. Clarke

Chapter One

Death On The Highway

Yes I know you were counting on this sale boss but it just didn’t happen! said Luke. The guy went with the competition even though they wanted more money. His neighbor talked him into it. Even if we gave him the system at cost, he still wouldn’t have taken it. He had already made up his mind before I got there. said Luke. Luke! said the voice on the other end, That sale was a done deal. I talked to him last week and he said he was going with us. All you had to do today was get your ass down there and close on him. I don’t understand what the hell went wrong? Well you’re just not listening to me boss! His neighbor changed his mind and I was just unable to turn him around. said Luke.

After selling his Guide and Outfitting business in the early eighties Luke Spanton had also run several businesses during his Outfitting years, including contracting as an oilfield welder and later operating a Highway Maintenance Contracting Company. Age and injuries were starting to catch up to him. It was the years of abuse that his body had endured from the time he was a kid working in the mountains, first as a wrangler and then guide.

It was the long cold winters welding on pipe-lines in the Sub-Arctic; they were all starting to catch up to him. Recently he had sold his contracting business and moved to Ballard, a quiet neighborly town in the Uintah Basin area of eastern Utah. He had taken a job with a local company in Vernal, selling irrigation systems to farmers through out the state. After 15 years living in the North Bay area of California contracting in the asphalt maintenance business, Ballard was a perfect quiet place to live and slow down a little too. There were the snow capped Uintah Mountains to the north, reaching up over twelve thousand feet and lush green valleys to the south, east and west, dotted with farms and ranches where cattle and horses grazed peacefully. It was a nice quiet, laid back little farm town. It was Friday just after 3:00pm and Luke was heading home on route #191. He was on his cell phone talking to his boss and trying to explain why he had not closed the deal on the $180,000 irrigation system that his boss was sure would be a slam-dunk. Luke had just past through Blanding on his way back from Bluff, Utah. He was about to travel out of phone range. It couldn’t be too soon either. The day had already been a bummer, what with losing the sale, coming home empty-handed and now, a long drive home all for naught. To top the day off, Robert Bradley his boss, was ragging on him. Is this day ever going to end, he thought as Bob continued his tirade? I just can’t believe it Luke, you just don’t know how to close on these guys! You need to . . . Static I think I’m going to lose you Bob. said Luke. More static and then a faint click and silence. Yes!! exclaimed Luke as the no service sign popped up on his phone. Peace and quiet for a while, at least until Monday. Just in case the signal came back, Luke hit the power button and shut the cell phone off. No sense taking chances.

Bob would just have to chill until Monday. Maybe he will have calmed down a little by then. Luke thought to himself. It was early May and a cool overcast day. There was very little traffic on the highway and what traffic there was, was headed south-bound. If anyone was in front of him they were traveling a lot faster than he was because he hadn’t caught up to a single sole and he was keeping the needle on a steady 70mph. About thirteen miles north of Blanding, highway #191 climbed up over a range of hills. As he came over the top he was facing three miles of road, straight as an arrow with a 6% down hill grade. A mile ahead there was a dip in the highway and as Luke scanned the road in front of him he noticed what appeared to be a big gray Limo coming up the hill and about to disappear into the dip in the highway. Following 300yds or so behind the limo was a dark colored pickup that had varnished wooden stock racks on the back. The highway had a passing lane on the uphill grade and as the Limo reappeared up out of the dip, Luke noticed that the pickup had not only closed the distance on the Limo but also was pulling out to pass. As the pickup came along side the car, five hooded men stood up in the back, all facing the side of the Limo; that’s when all hell broke lose. The men in the pickup had full automatic weapons and they opened fire on the Limo. The car swerved left, then slewed to the right out onto the shoulder of the highway and then swerved hard left again, heading straight across the highway about 200yds in front of Luke. He hit the brakes as the pickup, which had managed to maneuver clear of the Limo, now followed it across the road in front of him. The side of the road where the Limo skidded out on to was a large area where gravel fill had been removed from the hillside, for use in the roadbed. It was decision time for Luke; to go or not to go? That was the question.

He realized in an instant that there wasn’t enough time to get stopped, turned around and headed the other way. There was just one answer. Put the pedal to the metal. The limo skidded and spun around to a halt in a cloud off dust. The pickup careened on around to the other side of the car and again the men in the back opened fire, blasting all the windows out of the limo in the process. At a glance Luke could see that it was indeed a gray Lincoln Limousine and the pickup was a 55 Chevy that was all tricked out. By the way it had zipped out around the Limo, it was obviously packing some major heat under the hood, as well as the five hooded assassins in the back. It was also evident that whoever was inside the limo was dead. Nothing could have survived the on-slot and clearly, that was the intent. By this time Luke was speeding by the scene. Plink, plink, plink, plink. Oh shit! Luke yelled out loud. They’re shooting at me too! He ducked his head and sped on down the hill. By the time he hit the bottom he was doing well over 100mph. He took a quick look over his shoulder. No one was behind him. His first thought was that the assassins had been so engrossed in their grizzly deed that in the heat of the moment they had been too preoccupied to notice him. Yah right!! They’ll kill me if they catch me. he said to himself. He kept on driving hard, even hoping that a Smokey would pull him over for speeding. Why is there never a Cop around when you need one? he remarked aloud. A shiver ran through his body. This is unbelievable! Luke thought to himself. The whole scene had taken less than 20 seconds. It had to have been a dream. It wasn’t. His foot on the gas pedal began to shake. My God!! he yelled out loud. I just witnessed a murder!" He began to tremble all over as the grim realization of what he had just seen began to sink in.

I’ve got to stop and get out of this car. he said to himself aloud. I’ve got to get off this highway before these people hunt me down. He struggled to gain control of his body and stop the shaking. Until this point Luke had not been paying attention to anything except the rearview mirror and keeping the car on the road. Now he strained to concentrate on the road ahead. You gotta get off this highway. he thought again to himself. As he rounded a bend, ahead he spotted a sign. Dodge Canyon. The arrow pointed to the right. That will do. He took another quick glance in the mirror and still no one in sight behind him. He took the turn much too fast and almost lost control. At the last instant he got it together and sped on down the side-road. Years of driving in the north-country had taught him how to handle a vehicle. His past experiences served him well. A mile down the road he spotted a wide shoulder area and pulled over to the side. Another quick glance in the mirror and still no one. He killed the engine and got out of the car. His knees were shaky and he was breathing too fast. For Gods sake!! Get a-hold of yourself! he said aloud. He paced back and forth a time or two and then walked around to the other side of the car. He knelt down and took a close look. Sure enough, there were four bullet holes in the side of the car. The holes were from a small caliber, most likely a .223. He bent down further and looked underneath to see if any fluids were leaking out of the car. If they were he knew he would be in deep trouble. Nothing. That was a lucky break. He was so intent on looking for leaks that at first he didn’t hear the car coming down the road until it was almost upon him. He stood up just as a black Cadillac drove up.

Chapter Two

A Bad Day, Getting Worse

Two men were in the car. One White and one Black. The White guy was driving and as they pulled up along side, the Black guy rolled down his window. You need some help? he asks. No! Just waiting for someone. Luke says. All right! says the black guy. That’s the answer I was looking for. We’re kind of early but hey, it’s better than being late, right? Here’s your money. We just got the word that everything went down as planned and that the whole job was a success. he said as he took a brief case off the seat and held it out the window. Luke’s brain was going crazy. Is this what I think it is? Do these guys think I’m one of the hit-men? Oh shit! NO! Luke thought to himself. I’ve got to get myself out of this mess. So like, do you want the money or not? says the Black guy. Startled, Luke responded, Ah, yes. Yes of course! I was just thinking about something else. That’s all. You got another job coming up? asked the black man. You look kind of preoccupied. Yah! Right. I do get kind of preoccupied when things are a little hectic. answered Luke. You know how it is. Yah well we sort of stay out of the dirty work ourselves now-a-days but yah, we used to get into that kind of shit a few years back. Not anymore though. We’re all specialists nowadays. Right? Yah, You bet. Luke answered. He walked around the car and took the briefcase. Thanks. he said as he stepped back towards his car. Aren’t you going to count it? asked the Black man. No need. I think I’d know where to go knocking if it wasn’t all there.

Hey man! It was a good job. The boss is happy and I know he’ll be calling you guys again real soon, I’m sure. He told me about another guy he needs to have disappear. Well it’s been nice chatting but I think we all better get the hell out of here. The cops will be all over this county soon enough. says the Black guy. Yah, see you around. says Luke. The car pulled a u-turn and then headed back toward the highway. Luke began to shake uncontrollably. This is bizarre!! This just can’t be happening. Luke said to himself. A wave of terror swept over him. Suddenly he felt very cold. Oh man!! Calm down. Get a-hold of yourself. he thought. He looked at the brief case unable to gather the courage to open it. What is in there? Money no doubt, but how much? You don’t need to know. he thought to himself. Then it dawned on him that this money was obviously meant for some one else and that they would soon, if not already, be looking for it and they would be looking for it right here!. I’ve got to get the hell out of Dodge. he said aloud. He threw the brief case in the trunk of the car and then jumped in and sped off towards the highway. As he drove, a million questions were racing through his mind. Who got killed? Why? What was this all about? Who were the people that would now surely be looking for him? Was this a drug war or maybe the mob? All these questions and not one answer. As he approached the intersection at the highway he pondered which way to turn. If he went back south the cops might well be at the scene of the shooting by now and he could tell them what happened. Then again what if the cops weren’t there yet? What if the bad guys were looking for him? It would be shorter to travel north to Montecillo. There was probably a Sheriff’s office there. But what if the bad guys were out on the highway looking for him. Would they recognize his car?

Maybe, but then again, maybe not. It was a white Dodge Intrepid and it looked just like a lot of mid-sized white cars. He had to take the chance. He turned north. As he did so he noticed a sign up ahead, Verdure, 1 mile. He recalled seeing the place on his way south. He remembered that there was a Bar & Grill right beside the highway. I’ll stop there and call the cops. That’s a better idea yet. Luke said to himself. He figured he could also use some food seeing as how he hadn’t eaten since early morning. He pulled into the parking lot and looked around. There were only two vehicles parked in front of the place and they were a couple of those yuppy SUV’s with kayaks on the roof racks. They were probably out of Salt Lake and headed south to the town of Bluff and the San Juan River for a weekend outing. Luke walked inside and glanced around. A sign at the far end of the bar pointed to a hallway indicating that the washrooms and phones were in that direction. As he stepped into the hallway, he could see that a young woman occupied one of the two phones. He headed for the other phone only to find an out of order sign tapped on it. He turned around and retraced his steps back towards the restaurant. He decided he might as well order some thing to eat. He was starving and it would be awhile before the cops could get there anyway. He sat down at the counter and grabbed the menu. Can I get you something to drink Sir? asked the waitress. Yes. I’ll have a large glass of milk and the club sandwich with fries. I’ll have the milk now please. says Luke. You got it! replied the waitress. Luke took a quick glance around the