They ate takeout Chinese food for dinner. Afterward, Reid brought a box of cigars out to the deck. Joan and Hunter went inside while Shane stayed out with the guys. Shane put up with the smoke without a complaint. She even took a puff from Reid’s cigar for kicks. Reid smiled. This girl is definitely marriage material, he thought. Upon finishing the cigars, they called it an evening.

Monday morning arrived. After breakfast, Reid and Shane went outside to say goodbye. “I’ll call you tonight,” he said after a tight embrace. “Please be careful. Now that I’ve found you, I don’t want to lose you.” “I’m going to miss you. I know we haven’t known each other for long, but I think I’m falling in love with you.” It was out before he realized what he was saying. It was a first for Reid; he had never said that to any other girl.

“Me too.” She smiled and kissed him again, more passionately this time. “I’ll see you Thursday.” The others came out, said their goodbyes to Joan and Hunter, and left. Buddy had been waiting in the lobby when Reid, Joel and Stu arrived at the hotel. Reid said, “Let’s check in and put the stuff in the rooms; then I want to get a massage. If any of you want one, just put it or anything else you want on my room tab. After that, I want to head to the course to practice.”

They all went for massages, then headed to the club. The driving range was empty, so Reid suggested that Stu and Joel hit some balls while he worked with Buddy. Joel was pretty good. Stu would have been better off going for a bike ride. They followed Reid from the range to the chipping area to the practice green, then took a lunch break.

The clubhouse was starting to buzz with tournament activity. Some of the members’ kids were waiting in the lobby to get autographs. They attacked Reid as he walked in. In spite of his better judgment, he signed away. What’s with me? he thought. A month ago I would have walked right past these kids. The truth was he was having fun, more so than he’d had in a long time.

Howard Brock walked into the lobby and a bunch of the kids ran over to him. Reid took advantage of the moment and exited after a quick nod to Howard. He headed for the dining room with Stu, Joel and Buddy. They sat at a table, reserving a seat for Howard.

After lunch, Reid and Howard talked about the course and its areas of difficulty. There was a brief discussion of security, at which point Howard asked Stu and Joel, “If you don’t mind me asking, have you guys made any headway?”

“We’ve narrowed the possibilities down, but the guy is still playing with us,” Stu said. “We’ll get him,” he added with absolute confidence. “I just hope he doesn’t get me first,” Reid said. “Why don’t you just do as he asks, Reid?” Howard joked. “You mean I shouldn’t win? Ha, very funny, Howard. You got as close to beating me as you’re going to get.” “Can’t blame me for trying, can you?” They all chuckled. “Do you want to join me on the range?” Reid asked. “I’ll meet you there in a little while.” They left the dining room and fortunately for Reid, the kids were gathered around another golfer in the lobby. Reid was able to get by without the kids noticing. The other guy mouthed, “Help!” but Reid was no fool; any more autographs and he’d get writer’s cramp. With a quick wave, Reid mouthed back, “Sorry,” then walked out. At the range, Reid noticed the sportscaster, Bobby Lee, interviewing a golfer at the far end. Not in the mood for an interview, Reid stepped up to a practice tee with his back toward Bobby. He started swinging a club to loosen up. As he turned to get his driver, he heard Bobby yell, “Reid, there you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

“Damn,” Reid said under his breath. He then he noticed that Bobby had been interviewing Jim Turner. Bobby and his cameraman walked over. “Reid, how about a quick interview?” Reid didn’t see that he had much choice. Turning him down would only provoke Bobby to retaliate on national TV. “Great, Bobby, I hoped you were coming over.” “Oh, such lies,” Bobby said. “No, really, I’m sure after your interview with Turner I need to defend myself.” “Good point, you’re right. Jim is not very happy with you or your investigators at the moment. So are you ready? Can we shoot?” “Yeah, but only if you use a different word.” “Oh. Sorry, I really didn’t mean to say that.” “I know. Go ahead and start, but please keep your questions related to the tournament.” The camera’s light turned red. “I’m here with Reid Clark. As you know, Reid recently won the Master’s after receiving a death threat. You just heard me speaking with Jim Turner, who complained about how Reid’s investigation team questioned him as to his whereabouts during the death threat. Reid, is Jim a suspect?”

“Bobby, you know I can’t talk about the investigation. Talk to me about my strategy or how I’m going to win the Classic. Talk to me about my arrogance and cockiness. That stuff I can talk about. But please don’t ask me about the investigation.”

“Okay, if you won’t talk about the investigation, how about your new girlfriend? I hear you met her at Ross Misrok’s party and practically stole her away from Jamie Freed, the Wall Street mogul.”

Reid’s irritation showed in his reddening face. “You son of a bitch, you’re totally out of line. I thought you were a sportscaster, not a gossip reporter. Consider this interview over.” Reid turned his back to the camera, picked up his club and started taking practice swings again, almost hitting Bobby with his back swing.

“Hey, easy,” Bobby said. “Look, I’m sorry. You’re right, I was out of line. Come on, let’s start over again. Only golf, I swear.”

Reid looked at Bobby and growled, “Don’t ever come near me with a microphone or camera again, Bobby. Now leave me alone. I need to practice.” Bobby did the smart thing and backed off. Reid turned to his ball, muttering obscenities. He raised his club and hacked at the ball. A wad of turf flew into the air but no ball. He outright missed. Reid cursed again, louder this time. He took another swing, hitting the ball with the heel of the club. It flew left into the trees. Reid tensed and stamped his foot. He teed up another ball and swung again. The ball took off sharply to the right, into the short divider between the practice tees. It hit with a loud bang and bounced back at Reid. Jumping out of the way, he cursed and slammed his club into the ground. His face turned crimson with the heat of aggravation.

He paused, leaned on his club and hung his head. I better get myself together, he thought. Or I’m going to have a heart attack. Or worse, lose this tournament. Taking a few deep breaths and closing his eyes, he began to simmer down. He felt the gentle breeze wash over his face. Just as the heat in his face subsided and his heart rate slowed, Jim Turner approached, fuming.

“Hey, asshole, you think I’m dumb enough to send you death threats?” Turner seethed. “If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t bother with the fucking threats, I’d just do it. Right now, just looking at you makes me sick.”

It took Joel, Stu and Buddy all together to hold Reid back. He was enraged. Joel said calmly, “Turner, I have some advice. I think you should get the fuck out of here before we let him go, because if we do, he’s going to rip you apart. Both you and Bobby Lee make a fine pair, one dumber than the other. Now get the hell out of here.” “Fuck you all,” Turner said before he turned and stormed off. When they let him go, Reid turned toward Turner to tell him off. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. There, not 20 yards from him, Bobby and his cameraman stood in full glory with the camera running.

“Shit!” Reid screamed, picking up a golf ball and throwing it as hard as he could at the cameraman.

The man easily dodged the ball and, with an evil smirk, he flipped Reid the bird.