Murder on the 16Th Green: a Novella

By Mike Fagan

In 2009 a quiet town in Tennessee is shocked by a murder that takes place on a golf course. Detective Dale Rivers pursues the killer with passion, partly because it’s his golf course. He and his team identify several suspects and systematically investigate each one. Rivers narrates this tale which provides the reader with insight into the thinking and life of a detective in hot pursuit of a psychopathic killer. Anyone who enjoys mystery will like this book, and, if the reader also plays golf, it will be even more captivating.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 3, 2019
• ISBN: 9781796063073

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Copyright © 2019 by Mike Fagan.

ISBN:                Softcover                        978-1-7960-6308-0

                            eBook                               978-1-7960-6307-3

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.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 10/03/2019

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I’m passionate about three things in life –my family, my work, and golf. At 56 years old, I’m married to a wonderful woman and the proud father of two grown sons. For the past 25 years, I have served with dedication on the Winston police force. There’s always been some give and take between family life and the job; every cop knows about this balancing act. However, I never mixed my hobby with work; unlike salesmen, executives, and bankers, police officers do not conduct business on the golf course. Or so I thought until September 10, 2009. That morning I was showering and unable to get to my cellphone. My wife, Nancy, answered and announced, Dale, it’s J.T. and he sounds serious.

With a wet hand, I grabbed the phone and asked, Captain, what’s up?

My boss replied, There’s been a murder. Pick me up at the station ASAP.

I dressed quickly and wondered about the crime. As the lead detective in Winston, a quiet university town of 60,000 in northwest Tennessee, I haven’t investigated many murders, maybe five or six during my 10 years as detective. As soon as the captain entered my unmarked car, Myers reported, Yesterday evening someone shot one of Winston’s most prominent businessmen, Raymond Teasley, on the golf course, at the goddamn country club.

Holy shit! was all I could muster. I knew Teasley and was a life-long member of the Winston Country Club.

Apparently, Teasley played a few holes by himself yesterday evening, continued Myers. He was putting on the 16th green when someone shot him, sniper style.

I pictured the 16th green, a large, sloping surface that concluded a tough, 410-yard par four. It’s the most secluded green on the course, surrounded by woods on three sides.

When we pulled into the parking lot, the captain told me to drive to the 16th green. I wove through a maze of cart paths, stopping 30 feet from the crime scene. Two cruisers, a van from the Medical Examiner’s office, a canine unit, and about a dozen personnel were combing the area. According to the ME, the body was discovered by the ground crew at approximately 6:30 AM; she estimated the time of death at 7:00 PM. The victim had been shot once through the head and apparently dropped in the middle of the green where his putter and golf ball now rested. However, a pack of wild dogs or coyotes had mauled, partially eaten, and dragged the body to a nearby sand trap.

Even though the greenkeeper was certain the corpse was Raymond Teasley, the ME asked me to confirm his identification. She opened the body bag and stepped aside. There was enough face left for me to recognize Teasley.

The ME and her assistant transported the body to the morgue. After a thorough inspection of the crime scene, Captain Meyers and I returned to headquarters. At this point we knew the following:

1. The perpetrator shot Teasley at approximately 7:00 PM on September 9, 2009.

2. Before golfing, Teasley did not check in at the club house. Since he lived next to the course (near the 14th hole to be exact), he probably walked from his property to the golf course. He was pulling his golf bag with a hand cart.

3. He was shot from some distance with a large caliber rifle.

4. The bullet passed through his skull; the entry wound was just above the right temple, and the slug exited near the left ear.

5. Ray Teasley had been a member of WCC for 11 years and, according to neighbors, often played a few holes in the evening.

Myers said, Dale, because of your intimate knowledge of the country club, I want you to spearhead this investigation. Turn over your other cases to Lieutenant Horrell and give this murder your undivided attention.

Several feelings came over me at the time. Even though I disliked Ray Teasley, murdering anyone on a golf course, especially mine, seemed sacrilegious. I was determined to catch the bastard. In addition, I harbored mixed feelings about the captain’s reference to my intimate knowledge of the country club. On one hand, I agreed with him; my membership provided me a perspective that could only help solve this case. On the other hand, my fellow officers have harassed me relentlessly about my country club status; some called me Triple C (Country Club Cop). It’s true most cops can’t afford country club dues, but my father belonged to WCC and taught me to play on this very course. When he died, my dad left me a life-long membership. I wasn’t about to give up his legacy because of a few jealous idiots.

Myers jolted me from my thoughts with a couple questions. What do you know about Teasley? Does he have any enemies?

Ray Teasley, I answered, was a successful, hard-driving businessman who was about as arrogant as they come. He stepped on anyone who got in his way. Teasley amassed a fortune in the jewelry business; he owned a chain of stores in Tennessee, Kentucky, Illinois, and Missouri.

Did you know him well? asked the captain. Who hated him?

I played golf with him only once; he was such an asshole I vowed to never play with him again, I replied. "I don’t know the details of his business relationships, just his reputation