Sudden Death (20 page)

Eight o’clock rolled around way too soon. Mench woke Reid. Irritable and weary, he muttered a request for coffee, then immediately changed it to a double espresso. After a massage, Reid showered, dressed and left for the club.

On the driving range, Mike Kuplicki, a reporter, approached Reid. Joel stepped in front of Kuplicki, saying, “Sorry, not now.” “Get out of my way,” Kuplicki snapped. “I don’t think so, and if you don’t smarten up, you’re gonna regret it,”

Joel warned him calmly. “Don’t threaten me, pal. I’m here to do a job, and I’m gonna do it.”

He tried to walk around Joel saying, “Hey Reid…” Before he knew what happened, Kuplicki was pinned, his face in the dirt, with Joel holding his arm up behind his back. Joel quickly looked back, hoping the cameraman was not filming. He was relieved to see Stu with the camera in one hand and the cameraman’s arm twisted behind his back in his other hand.

“Wow, that was cool,” Reid said. “You know, that was the first time I’ve seen you two in action. You guys are good.” “Hey, you wanna let me up?” Kuplicki pleaded. “Are you going to leave Reid alone?” Joel asked. “Yeah, and I’m going to sue the hell out of you.” “Go right ahead; you think a judge is going to rule against us on this?

I don’t think so.” “Look, just let me up and we’ll get out of here.” After Joel let him up, Stu gave the camera back and they left in a huff. “Sorry, guys, I guess I’m a little uptight too,” Joel apologized. “
Sorry?
” Reid said. “Don’t be ridiculous.
You
have to blow off steam sometimes too, and like I said, I enjoyed watching it. Maybe when this is over you can show me some of your moves.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” Stu said. “You teach us how to play golf and we’ll teach you some maneuvers.” “You’re on.” He took out a club and stretched for a while. He actually felt pretty good. After hitting a few balls with each club, he was ready to play. He thought it was kind of funny that every time there was some sort of action around him, instead of affecting his game negatively, it actually helped him play better. “Who knows?” he mumbled to himself. He couldn’t forget the reality of the threat, or the fact that his troubled mind could shift gears at any time and put him in a funk.
But
, he thought, I might as well take advantage of the moment and go for the gusto.

He had a 2:15 tee time with Kenny Goodman. Kenny played consis tent golf and over the years had won his share of tournaments. Reid liked Kenny and felt his last name fit him well, but he wondered why Kenny had volunteered to play with him.

“Come on, guys,” Reid said. “Let’s head over to the locker room. I need to use the bathroom so I can pee off before I tee off.” “Oy vay,” Stu said, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. Joel added, “Better stick to golf, Reid, because your jokes are way below par.” “Below par? I always thought that was good,” Reid said. “Oh shut up. You know what I mean.”

Inside the locker room, Kuplicki was shooting his mouth off, telling a group about his run-in with Reid’s bodyguards.

Appalled, Stu walked over and glared at him. “Didn’t learn your les son, did you? I highly recommend that you don’t mention our little bit of fun for the rest of the day. If you had listened to Joel in the first place, there would be nothing to tell. Do yourself a favor and get the wax out of your ears. If I hear you’ve been talking about it, I’ll come looking for you, and take my word for it, you don’t want that! Consider this a warning. Smarten up.” Stu walked back to Joel. “That guy is going to be a problem.” “Forget him. Worst thing that happens is we end up in court. It’s not important right now.” “You’re right,” Stu agreed. They followed Reid out to the first tee. There was one group in front of Kenny and him. He saw Kenny and walked over. “Hey, Kenny, how are you?”

“Great, thanks. I guess I should know better than to ask you the same.”

“No, I’m okay. Sure, it’s been a little stressful, but to tell you the truth, I feel like I’m playing better because of it. I can’t explain it, but it’s true.” “Maybe some of that will rub off on me,” Kenny said. “You don’t need it. You’re playing great golf.” “Well there’s a big difference between my great golf and yours,” Kenny said. Just then, Kenny’s name was announced. “Go for it,” Reid said. Kenny hit an excellent shot, long and down the middle. He turned and winked at Reid. Reid nodded back as the announcer called his name. Once again, the applause was tremendous. Reid looked at Buddy, who gave him the thumbs up. He looked back to see Shane, Joan, Hunter and Betsy along with her family.
Good, they made it
, he thought as he winked at Betsy’s kids. He teed up his ball, looked out and focused directly on the pin. After two practice swings, he stepped up to the ball. One more look at the pin, then one last time down at the ball. He inhaled, exhaled slowly and swung. He hit one of the best shots of his career and started to walk. Applause, hoots and hollers followed him down the fairway.

“Hey, if that’s what a little action brings out in you,” Buddy said, “I’m gonna line up reporters and cameramen along the entire 18. That was the best drive I’ve ever seen you hit.”

“I was just thinking the same thing. Hey, guys,” he said to the sur rounding protection team, “stay sharp because I’m going to win this tournament.” “We’re ready, pal,” Joel said. “Do it.” He played a spectacular round. Ten pars, six birdies, one eagle and one bogie tied him for the lead with Brock at the end of the day, once again. After golf, Jay wanted Reid back in the suite for the evening. That was fine with Reid. He called the spa and had a masseuse come to his room. She brought her portable table and worked on him for over an hour. Shane, Joan and the rest of the group joined him for dinner.

After dinner and a cigar, he was ready for sleep. It was only 9 o’clock, but last night’s interruptions were taking their toll on him. He said, “Please stay if you wish, but I’ve got to turn in. I’m exhausted.” He hugged and kissed all the women, then asked Shane to come to his room for a minute. They went into the room and closed the door. He turned to her and they embraced. While he held her, he said, “I can’t wait till this is over so we can spend some time together, just the two of us. I want to take you away somewhere special. Where should we go?” “You decide,” she said. “How about the French Riviera?” he said without hesitation. “That was a quick decision.” “It’s the most romantic place I can think of. It should be fun.” “Sounds good to me. I love you Reid.” “I love you, too.” They kissed long and hard. “You need to get out of here before we get into trouble,” Reid said, “but how about a rain check for tomorrow night?”

“You’ve got it, babe,” she answered as she reluctantly pulled away and said goodnight to him.

The girls left at 10 o’clock. Jay asked the entire protection detail to gather round for a strategy meeting. He positioned specialists on every floor and at every entrance to the hotel. He even put two on the roof. Between his staff and the police, he had a small army. It was enough manpower to cover the entire hotel and still let tomorrow’s scheduled teams get some sleep. There was nothing worse than tired security specialists, Jay thought. They tended to make mistakes. There was no room for error from this point on.

They all expected the lunatic to call in the middle of the night. Jay had the switchboard shut off Reid’s phone and reroute any incoming calls to him. He was spending the night on the suite’s pullout couch. The night passed without any problems.

The phone rang at 8 a.m.; Jay had been awake and waiting. Picking up the receiver, he heard the computerized voice announcing the time and dropped the receiver back on the cradle. He had been hoping the perp would call again. He went in and woke Reid, whose eyes sprang wide open as Jay lightly tapped on his arm. “Easy does it, Reid, everything’s fine. It’s time to get up.”

With a faint sigh of relief, Reid got out of bed. Still half asleep, on his way to the bathroom, he walked right into the portable massage table that had been left after yesterday’s massage. When he came out of the bathroom, another masseuse was waiting for him. Reid found it hard to completely relax while Jay was in the room, but he knew better than to ask him to leave. When the masseuse was done, she and Jay left the room so Reid could shower. Jay came back in as Reid was getting dressed. “Might as well put this on now, so you can get used to it,” Jay said, handing Reid a bulletproof vest.

“Oh shit, I can’t play with that on,” Reid said with a long face. He took the vest and weighed it in his hand. “It doesn’t feel as heavy as I expected.”

“It’s Zylon. It’s much lighter than Kevlar. I didn’t think you could play in a Kevlar vest. There is some controversy over Zylon’s safety level, but I figured you’d put up a fight if I wanted you to wear heavy body armor. I’ve been wearing Zylon since its introduction.” “I guess if you’re here talking about it, it must work.” “The fact is I haven’t been shot at while wearing Zylon, but I know people who have and are alive to talk about it. Of course, the biggest and most obvious shortfall of any vest is that it won’t stop a shot to the head or any other body part it doesn’t cover. The potential for lead poisoning, while decreased, is still a possibility.”

Reid chuckled. “Lead poisoning, that’s good. I can’t believe you have me laughing about the possibility of getting shot. I guess at this point, I’ll take whatever protection I can get. Actually, if I thought I could swing a club with it on, I’d wear a suit of armor,” Reid said as he put on the vest.

He swung his arms around with exaggerated movement, testing the flexibility of the vest. Grabbing a four-iron that happened to be in the corner of the room, he took his stance and swung.

Crash
. The club shattered a lamp. Jay couldn’t help from bursting out in laughter. Simultaneously, Stu flew through the door with his gun drawn in a firing stance. Reid, bug-eyed, dove to the floor screaming, “It’s all right, I just broke the lamp.” After a quick assessment of the situation, Stu lowered his gun.

It took a moment for everyone to calm down, especially Jay, who had found the entire scene hilarious. Reid waited for his nerves to settle, then, after making sure he had enough room, he took a few practice swings. “This really isn’t so terrible; I can actually swing without much restriction. Now Jay, if you can get a grip, I’d like to get out of here.”

Jay took a deep breath to help stop his laughter. It worked briefly, but his face reddened with pressure until he burst out again. Slowly, he regained control of himself and the eruptions ceased. “Sorry, I just keep picturing the whole situation. I don’t know what was funnier, you breaking the lamp, or your response to Stu pointing his gun at you.”

“That’s some reaction to have over a client in terror. Glad I could make you laugh. Now get over it already,” Reid said with a grin. “I really need to get to the golf course and try this thing out.”

By 10:30, Reid was hitting balls at the range. Before leaving the hotel, he had tried on a bunch of shirts, picking the only one in the closet that hid the bulky vest. The shirt was a baggy, button-down golf shirt with a brown argyle print. It was totally out of character for Reid, and as far as he was concerned, really ugly. He didn’t even know where it had come from until Jay saw him wearing it and said, “Good, I’m glad you like the shirt. I thought you might need something nice that could hide the vest, so I bought it and had it hung in your closet yesterday. Looks pretty good. What do you think?”

Reid wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. “It’s nice, Jay, real nice. Does it hide the vest well enough? It feels pretty awkward.”

“No, you look great. It hides the vest perfectly. As they say, you’re stylin’, dude.” “Who says that?” Reid asked, frowning. “I don’t know, heard it someplace. Sounded cool when I heard it,
no
?” “Can we go now?” At the club, Reid was caught up in thought as he changed into his golf shoes. The day he had been dreading was here. Totally uptight, he had to go through his regular game day regimen and try to loosen up if he wanted to win. Then he thought, Do I want to win? Is it worth the risk? Is someone really going to try to kill me if I win? Am I going to die today? Tomorrow? Reid was so caught up in thought, he didn’t notice that Buddy had walked up next to him. “You all right?” Buddy asked. “You don’t look so good.”

Reid was startled. Buddy had snapped him out of his reverie. “What did you say?” he barked.

“Take it easy, man, I only asked how you’re doing, but it’s kind of obvi ous. You want to take a walk or something?”

“No, thanks. I need to stretch and hit some balls. I’m so damn tense. I’ve got to loosen up.” He paused for a moment, then chuckled. “What are you laughing about now?” “It’s kind of funny if you think about it. I need to loosen up to win. But, if my fear keeps me from loosening up, I’ll probably lose. If I lose, I have nothing to worry about. Hell of a conundrum, huh?” Reid chuckled again.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. It’s a little strange, but right.” Buddy gave Reid a questioning look. “So what’s it gonna be, boss? Win or lose?” “You know the answer. Let’s go kick some ass.” The vest was cumbersome but only evident if one looked very closely, and today, no one would be allowed that close. The security team was staying as tight as possible around Reid. He had to hit a few extra balls to loosen up. After his second bad shot, Stu kidded, “If you want me to go kick someone’s butt, I’d be more then happy to. That is, if you think it will help.”

Reid chuckled. “Thanks Stu, I appreciate the offer. If I can’t get it together in a minute or two, I might accept.” “Just say when…and who. If you care.” “Believe me, I could pick a few out here.” Reid nodded his head in the direction of the other players. He proceeded to hit more balls, getting better with each one.

“Aww,” Stu said as he watched. “Guess I won’t get my chance. Oh well.” “Sorry, Stu, I just needed to loosen up a little. I hate to disappoint you.” After a few more balls, Reid said, “Let’s go grab a bite. I skipped break fast, and my stomach is starting to growl.” After lunch, they headed for the practice green. “Oh great, look who’s here,” Reid said. Bobby Lee looked over at Reid and tilted his microphone toward him with a look of hope. Reid gave him an evil stare. “Wow,” Buddy mumbled, “If looks could kill…” “I’m not in the mood for him right now,” Reid growled. He dropped some balls on the green and started to putt. He missed the first two, then sunk the next four from about 10 feet. He continued to putt well from different positions all over the green.

Howard walked over to him. “Now how the heck am I supposed to beat you while you’re putting like that? You’re on fire, man.”

“You never know. There’s a big difference between the practice green and the real thing.”

“Yeah, you got that right, but I was kind of hoping that maybe, due to your circumstances, you’d be a little nervous today. You know, if I win, it would be like I was saving your life. What do you think?”

“What do I think? I think
you
should play golf and let
them
keep me alive,” he said, nodding at his protection team. “That’s what
I
think. C’mon, let’s go.”

Reid and Howard were playing right behind Jim Turner and Kerry Lawrence, who were third and fourth on the leader board. Turner was just teeing off when Reid and Howard walked up to the first tee. They watched him hit a short shot into the gallery lining the fairway. The crowd scattered to dodge his ball. Turner stepped away, visibly frustrated. Lawrence then hit his ball nicely, right down the center. Turner took a quick look around and locked eyes with Reid for moment. Reid winked and watched Turner grimace with rage. As Lawrence and Turner walked from the tee box, Reid said to Howard, “Maybe I should tee off now. I could put Turner out of his misery.” “No Reid, you have enough problems already. Let
me
do it!” After Lawrence hit his second shot, Howard was announced. Reid said, “Let’s see something good. It’s just you and me, pal.” Howard turned and held out his fist at arm’s length and Reid gave him a knuckle tap.

Howard hit a good shot and Reid followed, hitting his ball close to Howard’s. The crowd loved it. Both men tipped their hats as they walked off the tee box.

The protection team was much bigger today. Reid hadn’t noticed the additional guards until now. There was enough room inside the human ring of security for Reid, Howard and both caddies.

On the way to Reid’s ball, Buddy quietly asked, “What’s with the funky shirt?”

Reid sneered back, “Just shut up about the shirt. Another word about it and you’re fired.” Then he quietly whispered, “Here, take a look.” He unfastened a couple of buttons and opened the shirt just enough for Buddy to see the vest.

“Wow, cool!” Buddy whispered, “How’s it feel? I can’t believe I didn’t notice it. Now I understand the need for the ugly shirt. Well, the vest certainly didn’t hurt your tee shot. It wasn’t quite as long as usual, but it was good.”

“That’s the only problem I’ve had with it. Did you notice at the range I was hitting a little short with all my clubs? We’ll have to adjust as we go today. Keep it in mind.” “Got it.” Reid and Howard chipped their second shots near the pin a few feet from one another. Both putted for par and moved on to the second tee. They each parred holes two, three and four. The fifth was a long par five. Howard birdied it while Reid shot another par. Howard was now on top of the leader board, one shot ahead of Reid. After pars on six and seven, the standings remained the same.

They were walking up to the eighth tee when Buddy quietly gasped “Holy shit! There’s Eli! He’s in the gallery.”

“What? Really? Where?” Reid tensed, stopping dead in his tracks. He quickly backed up into the circle of security, telling Joel about Eli. The guards tightened around him. “Where exactly is he, Buddy?” Joel asked. “He’s wearing a red cap on the far side of the tee box. He’s in the second row.” Reid peeked over the guards and said, “Oh yeah, I see him.” “Stay down!” Stu hissed. Joel glanced over and spotted Eli. His entire demeanor seemed to change from casual bodyguard to strike force commander. Always the consummate professional, he seemed to come alive at the critical moment. He spoke quietly and precisely into his radio. “TG to Jay – Target’s in view. He’s in the gallery at the eighth hole. Request permission for take-down.” Joel had his earphone in so only he heard the response. In a hushed, stern voice he said, “VIP team, disperse and come around his back. You know what he looks like. He’s wearing a green shirt and red golf cap. Stu, Greeny, Mench, come around the tee box with me. Buddy, I want you to create a diversion. When I rub my eye, I want you to drop Reid’s golf bag. Ham it up a little, make some noise. That’s when we make our move. Everyone else stay tight around Reid. Gentlemen, I don’t want anyone hurt, but if he resists, we end it as quickly as possible, whatever it takes.” He paused briefly. “Okay, everyone ready?” They all quietly answered, “Ready.” “Move out,” he said, softly yet firmly. They all got into position quickly with only a few questionable looks from the crowd. Joel reached up and rubbed his eye. On cue, Buddy dropped the golf bag with a loud, “Ouch, damn, my foot,” drawing the attention of the entire gallery. Within seconds, the security team dragged Eli from the crowd and had him pinned with his face in the grass. The crowd screamed and scattered. It was all over in minutes.

Jay arrived in a four-seat golf cart with two heavily armed, uniformed officers. As they cuffed Eli and threw him into the cart, he complained, “What’s going on? What did I do?”

Reid had walked over by this time; he looked Eli in the eye, shook his head and asked, “Why?”

Eli gave him a confused look and asked, “Why what? What the hell is this all about?”

Having spent years together, Reid could tell Eli was truly mystified. Either that, or he had become a great actor, and Reid couldn’t accept that even as a possibility. He knew anytime Eli had told a lie, his facial expression and body language gave it away. To Reid, this could mean only one thing. The killer might still be out there. He thought, Why the hell couldn’t it have just been Eli? Damn, that would have been too easy… Oh, screw it, enough already! I’ve come this far, I’m just going to keep playing and win this game.

“Reid, go back and finish,” Jay said. “We’ll see you after the ninth. Joel, Stu, come back with me.” “No,” Reid said quickly. “I want Joel and Stu with me. I don’t think

Eli’s our man.” “What are you talking about? Why not?” Jay was surprised. “Because I know the guy, and when I talked to him, he… he…” Reid couldn’t find the words. “Well, let’s just say my gut tells me it’s not him.” “
Great!
Okay, guys, you heard the man, resume your posts. Everyone on duty and stay alert. I need to go have a little talk with Eli.” He turned his cart and drove off.

The whole thing had lasted only eight minutes. Reid looked at Howard and asked, “Do you need some time?” “Me? I’m all right. How about you?” “Actually, I’m kinda charged. Let’s go finish this thing.” When the crowd finally settled down, Howard and Reid teed off, both hitting good shots. Reid’s was long with a small draw. “I don’t believe it,” Buddy said. “He did it again. Give this guy a dose of adrenaline and watch him go.”

Reid laughed and said, “C’mon, let’s go win this tournament.” While he was walking, he asked Joel, “Hey, when you were talking to Jay on your radio, you called yourself TG. What’s that all about?” “Please don’t ask.” “It stands for Top Gun,” Stu said. It’s been his nickname ever since that movie came out. Cute isn’t it.” “Fuck you,” Joel said. “Sensitive are we?” Stu said. Joel turned and quickly threw a jab, stopping only a fraction of an inch from Stu’s jaw. His second punch was caught by Stu’s iron grip, inches from his nose. Then they both smiled and Stu lightly swatted the back of Joel’s head. Watching, Reid was amazed. Joel’s first punch, although playful, would have knocked out most guys if it had connected. Reid had winced just watching. Stu had been as cool as a cucumber, not even flinching. The second punch would easily have broken Stu’s nose if he hadn’t stopped it with his last minute reaction. Reid thought, Holy cow! These guys are like lethal weapons. Stu either has ice in his veins or the ultimate trust in Joel. And Joel had to know Stu was going to catch his second punch or he wouldn’t have thrown it. Not many people could have stopped that punch. What would these guys be like in a real fight? Hope I don’t have to find out, even if they are on my side.

It took a moment to shake off all thoughts of the fiasco and refocus on his next shot. By the time he took his stance, he was mentally prepared. They played out the hole, par, par.

On the ninth hole, as they walked up to the green near the clubhouse, the crowd was enormous and the cheering was out of control. Word of the arrest had obviously made its way around the golf course. Both players were on the green in three. Howard had a 17-foot putt and Reid’s was about 12. The hole was a par five; therefore, they were both putting for birdies. Howard’s putt stopped inches before the hole. He walked up and tapped it in for par. Reid sunk his for birdie and the crowd went wild. They were even after nine.

As they walked toward the clubhouse, Shane, Joan, Hunter and Betsy greeted Reid. They all gave him huge hugs, accompanied by sighs of relief. He returned their hugs and quickly said, “Sorry to rush, but we want to continue.”

Reid and Howard made a quick stop at the bathroom, grabbed some fruit and water from a cooler and went to the 10th tee. They each played the 10th, 11th, 12th and 13th well, both parring each hole. The 14th hole brought trouble for Reid. His tee shot was long, but sailed over the crowd into the heavy rough on the back side of a hill. It took a few minutes to find his ball. It was buried deep in the long grass about 20 yards from the fairway. He was still about 230 yards from the green with trees blocking his shot to the pin. He had no choice but to punch out, playing it safe. He had to hit a 70-yard shot to the far side of the fairway. Anything less and he would have a big tree blocking his next shot. Except for the foot-high heavy grass, no view over the hill and wickedly steep stance, it was an easy shot.

Buddy handed Reid his wedge. He walked to the ball and took some practice swings. It was so steep that when he stood facing the hill, he could touch it without leaning over. The long grass grabbed at his club. If he didn’t follow through, his shot would end up short.
Oh what the hell
, he thought, I’m over-thinking this. Just do it. He assumed an awkward stance, swung his club and chopped into the hill. The ball flew straight up into the air and fell way short of the fairway, leaving the tree directly between him and the pin. There was a big “Ooohhh!” from the crowd. Reid looked at Buddy, frowned and shook his head in dismay. His ball was short of Howard’s, so it was still his turn. He studied his shot. The tree was huge, completely blocking his line to the green. He was going to have to slice it low and around the tree. Buddy gave him his two-iron, and he took a practice swing. He adjusted his stance so the ball was lined up with his front foot. Swinging hard, he hit the ball; it came around, but not enough, and after a few bounces, rolled into a greenside bunker.