The Bitter End
By Kristen Gibson
An absent father and overburdened mother made it tough for young Clifford Dells to get the attention he craved. That all changed when Cliff picked up a guitar. He started strumming and taught himself to play country music like he heard on the radio. When he got good enough, he sang in church and at local events. As his rich voice, handsome looks, and talent developed, his need for recognition became sated by performance.
Cliff became a country music sensation, captivating audiences worldwide. And what he didn’t get back home in Sweetwater, he more than made up for in the spotlight with arena-sized crowds cheering his name and a string of broken relationships along the way.
The night Cliff and his band played the Ryman Auditorium, everyone was nervous. No one wanted to say the show was jinxed, but it sure felt like it.
Heavy rains caused a fender bender that forced one of the backup vocalists to arrive late. Jules apologized, but Cliff chewed her out even though weather and traffic were out of her control.
Maybe it was Murphy’s Law or because the venue was rumored to be haunted, but things kept going wrong. The crew had trouble adjusting the lighting rig, equipment was missing, and a fight broke out between the star and band member Tate Rogers before the show.
“You stole my money,” Tate confronted Cliff.
“Don’t complain to me. You got your share,” Cliff said. “Besides, you wouldn’t have any money if it weren’t for me. I’m your golden goose.”
“You wouldn’t be where you are if it weren’t for me, or any of us. We make the music what it is. In fact, you owe your success to everyone here.”
Cliff laughed and said that Tate was jealous about always being second fiddle. It touched a nerve, and Tate tried to throw a punch, but Cliff, being a hair shorter and more nimble, moved out of the way before it landed.
Cliff got in a couple good jabs before Glen, a long-time crew member stepped in to break up the fight. Glen wasn’t as brawny as the other two, but he was scrappy. He wore a black t-shirt and saggy jeans from too many years of sacrificing health for the job.
“C’mon fellas. We’ve got a show tonight. You can settle this later,” Glen said.
“You’re gonna regret screwing us over.” Tate pointed at Cliff.
Cliff made a quick move like he was going to hit Tate again. Tate flinched, but Glen stayed put and gave them one final warning before Tate stormed off stage.
After things settled down, Cliff and the band managed to pull it together for sound check.
When crowds had filled the seats and soft blue lights lit the stage, Tate Rogers masterfully played the first chords on his Scheerhon Mahogany square-neck Dobro. He gave a knowing nod just before Cliff started playing his Martin D-28 guitar. Soon, the instruments and vocals took off in an energetic opening number. The packed house buzzed with excitement and each song, old and new, earned thunderous applause.
The positive surge didn’t last long, though. The techs fell behind on a couple of cues, an in-ear monitor had to be replaced, and one of Cliff’s guitar strings broke mid-show. Glen came out to replace it and knocked over Cliff’s celebratory Jack Daniel’s 12-Year-Old Tennessee Whiskey bottle. Ever the performer, Cliff shook it off and shared an anecdote that got the audience right back into the performance.
The rest of the concert kept everyone on their feet. The band ended with one of their oldest and most popular tunes, originally written by Cliff and Dana, the beautiful brown-haired, green-eyed vocalist. Everyone’s eyes were on her as she and Cliff sang. Her long black dress had rhinestones at the neck and sleeves, which sparkled like diamonds. Even Cliff couldn’t stop staring. The audience sure got their money’s worth and gave a standing ovation, but you could practically hear the band breathe a sigh of relief once the show was over.
The concertgoers cleared The Ryman and the crew worked on teardown. As was tradition at the end of each show, Cliff poured himself a celebratory whiskey and toasted the empty auditorium and another successful set. The heat and bitterness prickled a bit longer tonight. Maybe it was time to switch his drink of choice, but he could decide that after finished the tour and got the money from his music deal.
Cliff was on top of his game, despite a hard 67 years full of road trips, joint aches, and heartaches. And, while he felt some sadness at the loss of his old life as a top country performer, he was ready to get off the road and take what was his. A $75 million deal would set him up with more money than a country boy like himself could have ever dreamt. Maybe he’d get his bad knee fixed before he retired for good.
Feeling upbeat about his future, and despite his tendency to criticize in order to improve the next show, Cliff managed to say some nice words.
“Y’all did great tonight. Despite a few mix ups, that was a top tier show, and you should be proud,” Cliff addressed the singers, band members, and staff. “Now, let’s finish this.”
Glen and Dana chatted in a shadowy corner of the stage as Cliff’s deal broker, Bart “Bubba” Hinkley, approached him on stage. Bart hailed from California, but gave himself the nickname Bubba when he arrived in Nashville, thinking it would sound better. Besides the moniker, he added a wardrobe of Stetson hats, plaid shirts and a pair of cowboy boots he was still breaking in when he clomped over to Cliff at center stage.
“Heck of a show, Cliff. You had them dancing up to the rafters,” Bubba gave him a hearty slap on the back.
Cliff choked at the force of Bubba’s hand and the bit of whiskey he hadn’t finished swallowing.
“Cliff, everything okay? Didn’t mean to be so enthusiastic, but you’re my best client.” Bubba meant the one that made him the most money.
Glen and Dana stopped what they were doing and made their way over to Cliff and Bubba. They knew after decades of touring to make sure Cliff was okay or face his wrath.
“I’m good,” Cliff said. “Just talking with Bubba. He’s made a deal that’s going to set me up good for whatever life I’ve got left.”
“That’s part of why I came to the show tonight, we need to talk terms. Universal’s terms and mine,” Bubba’s face reddened.
“Bubba, it’s all good,” Cliff tried to reassure him.
“No, it’s not Cliff. I pushed to get you the best deal possible, and you went behind my back and cut my take. You know I could sue you and win.”
“Easy now. You wouldn’t want to do that. It’d cause you more trouble than it’s worth. Besides, you’ve already got a suit pending with a certain young singer. You don’t need any more bad press. Especially when you can take the deal as is and still walk away with millions.”
“Why are you doing this? I just want my fair share,” Bubba said.
“It’s my music. It’s my legacy. I should get the best of the deal. You know I’m done after this tour. Time to retire.”
Glen’s fists clenched when he noticed the hungry look Cliff was giving Dana. Glen tried to calm down knowing Cliff would be leaving the music business soon. For years, everyone knew Cliff manipulated Dana. He would lead her on only to move onto some other love interest and leave Dana heartbroken. She was barely legal the first time it happened. Glen knew it was foolhardy to wait on the sidelines, but she was one of the reasons he stayed with the band all these years. So, he was biding his time until Cliff was gone for good.
“See you’re having your celebratory drink,” Dana said. “Not as sweet as that apple wine we used to sneak, is it?”
“No, this is better. It tastes like livin’. Let me get you some.” Cliff barked at a stagehand to fetch some glasses. When the guy ran off, Cliff poured himself more whiskey, which he downed eagerly.
“Glad you came over.”
Cliff gazed at Dana long and hard, giving her a chance to see his beautiful eyes and the smile she fell for long ago. Even though she knew he was a heavy drinker and womanizer. She’d always felt his influence, as if he moved the planets and tides.
Dana caught Glen’s apparent disinterest as he groaned and went back to moving equipment. Glen was one of the hardest working people she’d ever met. She smiled at him and his serious expression faded when he smiled back.
Suddenly, Cliff’s hand shook, he dropped his glass and started coughing. At first, he shook it off as getting whiskey down the wrong pipe, but it got worse the harder he tried to downplay it. Soon, his face reddened, and he seemed to really be in distress. Dana yelled for help while Bubba tried to see if slapping Cliff on the back even harder would somehow clear his throat. Cliff shook his head to indicate he’d had enough of Bubba’s help and collapsed onto the stage.
An hour after an unforgettable performance at the Mother Church of Music, with a $75 million deal for his music catalog in hand, Clifford Dells was dead.
Cliff upset a lot of people over the years and many of them were in the vicinity when he died.
Police made sure to clear the parking lot and blocked everyone else from leaving. It took time, what felt like hours, as they conducted interviews and searched for evidence at the scene.
Everyone waiting to be questioned was within earshot when the examiner said, “I can’t rule out a heart attack yet, considering his age and the amount of exertion during the performance. However, his coloring indicates something else. We’ll see what a tox screen reveals.”
The examiner was speaking with Detectives Voss and Jones of the Metro Nashville Police Department. Voss, the lead investigator had long, dark hair and she stood around five-seven in rain boots and a jacket. Jones was shorter than Voss, muscular, with a moustache and a buzz cut.
Detective Voss was the first to speak.
“So far, nearly everyone we interviewed saw him drink from the bottle of Jack Daniel’s before he died. He could have been poisoned. During the show the bottle was on stage, so the stage crew and musicians all had access. It’s bagged as evidence,” Detective Voss said to her partner.
Dana was called for questioning where she expected the police to ask her about what she saw when Cliff collapsed.
“So, how long have you known Cliff?” Detective Voss said.
“Oh, we go way back. We all started singing and hanging out when Cliff breezed into town. Well, all except Jules, the other singer, and some of the crew.”
The interview soon turned into an interrogation. Detectives Voss and Jones kept pressuring Dana to admit that she hated Cliff. Somehow, they found out about her past with Cliff, and about their child together. Dana didn’t hate him, but she conceded to being upset when he fooled around behind her back. Admitting it was difficult to deal with morning sickness and the music business without any help. The police thought that the failed relationship may have led to jealousy and murder.
“That was so long ago. I got over it. I had to move on for the baby’s sake and mine.”
“Didn’t you want revenge? He’s a successful star and you’re still trying to make ends meet.”
“Sure, it was hard for a long time, but I had help from my sister and from the band. I think Glen convinced them to send some money to help out until I could come back.”
“You want us to believe Cliff didn’t know about the child? How do you explain that?”
“What can I say? He was distracted by his career and other things. He saw what he wanted or didn’t want to see.”
The police kept making accusations, waiting for Dana to crack, but she stood her ground when it came to the relationship. She convinced them she wasn’t interested in murdering Cliff. As a mother, she had too much to lose. Also, every place she’d been before the show, someone was with her. Crew, band members, even stylists. The details would be checked, but she was free to go.
That’s when there was a ruckus near the stage. Everyone watched as a police officer restrained Glen while another opened up one of the guitar cases.
“Detectives, we found this syringe and a vial of what looks like vape fluid in one of the guitar cases. The examiner says someone could have used it to poison the victim. Looks like they must have been in a hurry to hide this,” a police officer said.
All eyes shifted to Glen. The police officer stuffed the evidence in a bag and lifted the case Glen had carried off stage at the end of the show. Just before Cliff drank his last toast.
Glen tried to explain, but the detectives cuffed him and took him for questioning. Dana and a few of the crew stared in disbelief. None of them thought Glen was guilty or even capable of murdering Cliff.
Dana noticed something small and metallic where the police found the guitar case. Tate must have noticed it too, because he hustled over and picked it up before Dana could.
“Someone must have dropped this after the show,” Tate said and hurried away.
Dana didn’t have time to respond because Bubba sidled up to her with a heavy sigh.
“Such a shame about Cliff. Not sure anyone knew this, but as part of all his retirement preparations, Cliff made a will.”
Dana looked sideways at Bubba. “What do you mean? Was he okay?”
“He was a son of a gun most of his life, but he had a change of heart recently and wanted to make up for years of being a no-show father.”
“Father? What are you talking about?”
“Dana, it was pretty obvious when your kid visited last year. Familiar around the eyes and the same mannerisms. But, when he played the guitar and sang with you, there was no doubt he was Cliff’s kid.”
“I knew it was a mistake letting Cade visit. I was frightened of what Cliff would do when he found out. I had nightmares about a confrontation and accusations about us wanting something from more from him. I was relieved when it seemed Cliff paid him no mind. Sad, that after all these years Cliff finally wanted to do right by someone other than himself, and now it’s too late.”
Bubba didn’t think so, money was still money. Then he thought maybe Dana really did want more from Cliff, maybe she wanted him to be involved with their family.
“Excuse me, Bubba, thanks for all you’ve done. I’d like to talk more, but right now I really need to go see the police,” Dana said goodbye and dashed off down the hallway.
The detectives questioned Glen, who admitted that he was jealous of Cliff and that he convinced the band to send money when Dana was away having the baby.
“Dana helped launch us all, if it weren’t for her voice and her help with the songwriting, Cliff would have washed up years ago. She wrote with him and inspired his early tunes. Cliff faltered when she left but found a way to deal with the loss writing some of the best heartbreak songs in country music.”
“Did Cliff know about the child or the money?”
Glen shifted in his chair. “No, he was too busy chasing dreams and skirts. We all figured we owed Dana and the baby something. It was the right thing to do. When she came back to the band no one gave it a second thought.”
“So, were you jealous of her relationship with Cliff?” Detective Voss asked.
Glen sighed, “Yes, but I didn’t kill him. You know, you should look at Bubba, or Tate, or even Jules. She and Cliff were an item for a while, but they had it out a couple weeks back. Maybe Cliff had moved on, again.”
“Jules, the backup singer?”
“Yeah, she’s Tate’s sister.”
The police brought Jules in for questioning.
“We had an intense, but brief fling,” Jules told the detective. She looked away, perhaps, searching for the right words. “I wanted to make it work, but Cliff was so caught up in touring. He gave me the brush off and told me he didn’t want any distractions.”
The detectives could see this was painful for Jules.
“Cliff always had a soft spot for Dana. He was going to sideline me but keep her on for the rest of the tour. Why was I the one left out and having to look for work? He knew I didn’t have much and had bills to pay!”
“Did you kill him?” Detective Jones chimed in.
“No, but there’s a long list of people who would.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Cliff wasn’t easy to work for on account of he was so hard on everyone. A real perfectionist, which made him a great performer, but a demanding boss. I didn’t kill him. I still loved him.”
Mostly satisfied, the detectives concluded the interview and told Jules not to go far.
When Jules left, the police discussed the suspects’ motives and opportunity.
While Dana and Jules had reason to be angry with Cliff, they both appeared to have too much to lose in murdering him with not enough gain.
The police thought Bubba had motive for getting cut short on a deal, but soon determined he still had ways to earn money. Bubba convinced them that Cliff was worth more to him alive than dead. There was the music catalog deal, the tour, merchandise revenue, a new partnership as a bar owner, and eventually, proceeds from reunion tours Bubba had already mapped out.
When it came to Glen, things felt a little too convenient. Multiple eyewitnesses did see Glen place the whiskey bottle before the show, knock it over and replace it during the show, and then saw Glen move the guitar case. But what was his motive? He’d been with the band for years and stood nothing to gain by killing off his boss so close to retirement. Glen cared for Dana, but Cliff would be out of the picture soon, so why take the risk now?
Dana rushed into the room where Detectives Voss and Jones had been reviewing notes.
“Officers, I just wanted to let you know I saw something that looked suspicious. Normally, I wouldn’t have thought much of it, but Tate picked up something shiny, maybe metal right after you took away the guitar case. It was right where the case had been, and it could be nothing, but I thought it might help Glen. None of us thinks Glen could kill anybody. He’s too kind.”
Detective Voss looked pensive for a few beats and then snapped her fingers. “Guitar case!”
The detectives had a gloved officer bring the case over and open it. There, stuck in the soft padding near the neck was a shiny metallic finger pick, the kind someone playing a Dobro would use. The kind Tate Rogers used that night. So, they brought Tate back in to dig further.
As they questioned Tate, the pieces fell into place. Tate had a fight before the show and claimed Cliff stole his money. Cliff had just landed a huge deal, and Tate admitted to being jealous. Tate was equally, if not more talented a musician, but Cliff got all the notoriety. Then, there was Tate’s sister, Jules, who had been dumped by Cliff and left with a broken heart and no income. Tate confessed that was the final straw. He planned to get rid of Cliff and re-launch the band, keeping his sister on and headlining shows himself.
The band and crew watched as Tate Rogers was taken away in the back of the police cruiser. A bitter rivalry that ended the life and careers of two talented musicians, and no one knew yet what was next for the rest of the band. Dana put a reassuring arm around Jules and said she would help any way she could. Glen smiled at the women and nodded in agreement. Then, he walked over and reached for Dana’s hand. It was a small bit of comfort as they stood and watched the sirens and lights fade.
Kristen is a member of Mystery Writers of America, Sisters in Crime, and the Short Mystery Fiction Society. A former expat, she's back in the Midwest with her husband and children where she’s at work on her next story.
