Sudden Death (9 page)

Exiting the tent, Reid was accosted by cameras and microphones. Joel and Stu were flanking him.

Bobby Lee placed his microphone in front of Reid and said, “Reid, con gratulations! What a day, huh?” “Bobby, you have no idea.” “You played an incredible match, although you seemed a little distracted in the beginning.” “Took me a while to get in the zone today, but once I did, I was okay.” “Howard seemed to play better today than he has in a long time; he seemed to step up to your level. What do you think?” “Howard played a great game today. He’s a gentleman and a terrific competitor. I enjoyed playing with him. If other players on the tour adopted some of his qualities, it would definitely bring some class back to the game. As far as Howard’s level of play is concerned, he’s an excellent golfer. In case you didn’t notice, he almost won today. In fact, we missed a sudden death playoff by half an inch.”

“Well, congratulations again, Reid.” Bobby turned toward the camera and said, “I’m Bobby Lee reporting live from the Master’s Tournament with golf’s newest master, Reid Clark, here in beautiful Augusta, Georgia.”

Reid turned away from the microphone and was almost knocked over by Betsy and Hunter. They hugged him and congratulated him until he laughed and said, “Okay, okay girls, thank you, you can stop now.”

Buck stepped into the mayhem at this point, commenting to the reporters that he would hold a press conference later in the clubhouse. He then pulled Reid away toward Butler Cabin for the trophy and jacket presentation. As they walked, everyone lining the path applauded and congratulated Reid. They entered the cabin and were ushered into a large room. Bill Taylor asked Reid to sit with him and last year’s champion near the fireplace. Cameras flashed from all directions.

Taylor presented Reid with the trophy, then the previous winner of the Green Jacket helped Reid into his. Reid felt a chill course down his spine. He would cherish this moment for the rest of his life. He said a few words of thanks, then accepted a check for $1,230,000.

After the ceremony, Buck said, “Sorry to do this to you, but we need to go to the clubhouse for the press conference. I promise it’ll be quick.” The entourage followed Reid and Buck to the clubhouse. Journalists, reporters, photographers and camera crews packed the dining room.

The conference proceeded smoothly and was almost over when a reporter in the front asked, “Reid, can you tell us about this morning’s threat on your life?”

Reid’s face flushed; he looked at Buck, who shrugged with a pained expression. There were a few gasps around the room, the loudest from Betsy and Hunter. Immediately, the room started to buzz. Questions flew at Reid from every direction. Buck calmly reached for the microphone. “Could you all hold your questions for a minute?” He waited a moment. The questions slowed but continued. He then said forcefully, “I’ll explain if you’ll quiet down.” The room silenced. “The fact is we did receive a threat this morning. We wanted to keep this quiet until the police had a chance to start their investigation. In fact, I’d like to know how you found out,” he asked the reporter. “I received an anonymous call.” “I’m going to ask you all for a difficult but important favor,” Buck said. “Please give us some time before this hits TV or the papers. We don’t know who or what we’re dealing with yet, and obviously we don’t want anyone to get hurt. If you hold off for 12 hours, we’ll update you with any further information we get. Then we’ll hold daily press conferences, but that’s only if you do not leak the story until the morning.”

They wrapped up the meeting. Betsy and Hunter ran up to Reid and gave him teary hugs.

“Come on, girls,” he said, “everything is going to be all right. This kind of stuff happens all the time. We have the best protection available. Oh yeah, by the way, Joel and Stu are not psychologists. They’re bodyguards.” Everyone looked over at the two men, who both grinned. Buck then asked them all to follow him to a private conference room.

The conference room was bright and a little cold. In the center was a huge rosewood conference table, and a card table stood in a corner. Fluorescent lights lit the room excessively. The thermostat was set low, creating a chill that would keep everyone alert. The smell of institutional coffee overpowered the lingering odor of disinfectants left by housekeeping.

Once everyone was seated, Buck began, “Let me bring you up to date. The police are waiting to meet with us. Plain clothes detectives arrived a few minutes ago in an unmarked vehicle so they wouldn’t draw attention. We don’t have much time before this goes public. I don’t trust the press. Someone will leak the story soon. My friend Jay Scott should be here shortly. He’s the best private investigator in the country.” He looked at Stu. “Do you know when your colleagues are due to arrive?”

“They’re on the way from the airport now.” Turning to the others, Stu continued, “Folks, let me make you more comfortable. The security teams on the way are all excellent. Each has been chosen for their special talents in clandestine operations. We have worked together for years. No death threat has ever been fulfilled on our watch. We’ve worked on many cases with Jay Scott, and as Buck said, he is, hands-down, the best investigator in the business. We will nail this son of a bitch quickly and quietly, and you will all be able to resume your normal lives.” “Thanks Stu, that makes me feel somewhat better,” Reid said. “Okay,” Buck said, “Reid, Buddy, we have to meet with the police.

Girls, you can go get something to eat or head to the pool if you like.” “I’d rather stay,” Betsy said very seriously. “I don’t think that’s such a good…” “If they want to stay, they stay,” Reid cut Buck off. “Okay, fine with me,” Buck said. “Joel, would you mind going to find

Detective Frank Alto? He should be here by now.” “Sure, Buck.” Joel got up and opened the door to leave. Three men were standing there; one’s arm was poised to knock. “Detectives?” Joel asked. “Yeah,” Alto said, with a ‘who’s asking’ look. “I was just coming to look for you. I’m Joel Rebah.” “Really! Well it’s a pleasure to meet you, Joel. You have quite the reputation, and I’m glad we’re on the same side.” Alto shook Joel’s hand, introducing himself and the other detectives to the group.

As they sat, Alto said, “If you don’t mind, I’d like to get down to busi ness. May I see the note?” Buck reached down, picked up the golf club and handed it to him. “Real cute,” Alto said after reading the note. “That’s not the word I used this morning,” Reid said. “I’m sure it wasn’t,” Alto said. “Who had access to your clubs between yesterday and this morning?” “I handed them directly to the bag room guys,” Buddy answered. “How many guys are we talking about?” “I’m not sure.” Buddy thought for a moment. “There’s at least four that I remember. I think they report to the locker room manager. We can ask him.”

“I’ll just ask the club manager; I need to ask him for an interview room anyway. I think we’ll get more information if we interview them here. Downtown can be intimidating; sometimes it causes people to clam up. If we…” Alto was interrupted by a knock on the door. Joel opened it. “Well, it’s about time,” Joel said with a grin. He greeted six men and two women as they filed into the room. Alto’s jaw dropped and, with a look of awe he mumbled, “Holy cow, I don’t believe it.” One of the other detectives murmured, “Oh shit.” Buck stood up, walked over to Jay Scott and put his arm around his shoulders. “Everyone, meet Jay Scott and his team, the finest crime investigation and security team ever assembled.” Alto stood up and introduced himself, then added, “I look forward to working with you.” “Frank, your attitude is refreshing. Local detectives usually get offended when we’re called in,” Jay said. “If the rest of your team has the same mindset, we’ll get along famously and wrap this problem up quickly.” Alto looked at his men, “Guys?” “Sure,” said Sam, the first detective. Mark McMillan, the other detective, was silent. All eyes turned in his direction. “Well, Mark?” Frank asked. “Yeah right, whatever,” he said sourly. Reid rolled his eyes thinking,
Guess there had to be at least one jerk in the
group.
After introductions, Jay took the lead. “Let’s sit and talk for a few minutes.” He asked Susan, his assistant, to join them. “Give me a minute,” Buck said. He picked up the phone, requested an urn of coffee and a platter of sandwiches be delivered to the room, then took his seat.

Jay began his questioning. “Reid, tell me exactly when and how you found the note.” As Reid explained everything, Susan took notes. “Where’s the note?” Jay asked. Alto handed him the driver. “Cute,” Jay remarked. Everyone except for Jay’s group chuckled. “What’s so funny?” he asked with a furrowed brow. “Frank used the same word a little while ago,” Reid said. “You know what they say about great minds,” Jay kidded. “Yeah, well let’s just hope in this case great minds solve crimes,” Buck said. “Right, let’s get to work,” Jay said, fidgeting with the tiny keyboard on his BlackBerry. “I want you all to brainstorm. Think about who might have done this and why. Think about anyone who might gain from Reid’s death, or had any issues at all with him in the past.”

They each took turns throwing out possible suspects. Buck started by saying, “David Jordan.” Jay looked at Reid and asked, “Will you elaborate?” “Of course. David Jordan was my first agent; I fired him when I hired

Buck. He obviously knows that he missed out on the big money.” Susan rapidly took more notes. “Okay, next name?” Jay said. “Eli,” Buddy said. Reid explained, “My former caddie, Eli Saline, also felt shafted when I fired him. We had a standing offer that I would pay him a big bonus when I reached $5 million in earnings. I let him go when I was at $4 million, obviously without the bonus.”

Reid let them finish their notes. “There’s also Jennifer, my most recent girlfriend, who is hopefully moving out of my apartment as we speak,” he said with a grin. Jay nodded with a raised brow. Hunter chimed in. “What about
all
your past girlfriends? You used to go through about one a week.” “I’m not that bad, am I?” Reid asked hesitantly. “Well, I guess I’ve pissed off a few. Let’s see.” He looked up and rubbed his chin. “Hmmm, there’s Mikaela, Alyssa, and Sydney. They definitely were not pleased when I dumped them.” Buck threw out one more name. “You have to check out Mike Gatto.” Reid nodded, saying, “Right! Add Gatto, along with Hubie Van Meurs and Mike Mard, my three partners in GolfCo. We each put $2 million into a golf course project. We were going to use my name as the promotional draw. After years of legal battles with environmentalists, we gave up. It was like throwing our money into a water hazard. The failed project drove Gatto and Mard into bankruptcy. They begged me to continue funding the lawsuit to keep it alive. It was going to be an exercise in futility, so I walked away from the whole deal. They never forgave me.” “Don’t forget about Bruce,” Betsy said. Nodding again, Reid said, “Right, Bruce Porter. We grew up together, our parents were friends. He had big money problems and he drank like a fish. I told him I would help him financially if he dried out. He would clean up his act for short periods, then fall off the wagon. When I stopped giving him money, he threatened me.” As Jay entered the name on his BlackBerry, he began to laugh. “What are you laughing about?” Buck asked. “It’s rare to see a suspect list grow this long this fast,” Jay responded.

“Can any of you add more?” Nobody said a word. “How about any players on tour with you?” Jay prompted. “There’s always a few who don’t like my attitude or cockiness or more likely the fact that I beat them regularly. They would definitely benefit if I was gone.”

Susan scribbled notes furiously and Jay kept pecking at the tiny key board.

After another period of silence, Reid said, “You know what? As long as we’re throwing out longshots, there are some athletes we’ve thrown out of AllSport, our training camp for The Inner City Sports Foundation. We have a rule at ICSF. If you stay clean and trouble-free, you can stay at camp. No drugs, no alcohol, no screwing up. Two strikes and you’re out. A few of the characters we’ve gotten rid of were pretty pissed off when they left. But how seriously can you take an idle threat from a crackhead?” “Try very,” Jay said. “Yeah, I guess so… Hey, I’ve got one more addition. There were some hecklers that I had the police remove from the course during a tournament a few weeks ago. They were pissed and they told the cops that I should watch my ass.” Silence again. Jay finished typing and looked up. “Is that it?” He looked around the table. No one said a word. “Good. Reid, we have a lot of potential suspects, but I’m sure if you think hard, you’ll come up with more. Please work at it.” “I will.” “Okay, let’s move on. Who had access to your clubs between yesterday and this morning?” “We were just discussing that when you arrived. Go ahead, Buddy,”

Alto said. “I gave Reid’s bag to the guys in the bag room. I think there were four of them.” “I’d like to interview them here rather than downtown,” Alto said. “I agree. Let’s get their names and run background checks,” Jay said. “We’ll set up two rooms; Alto you take one and I’ll take the other. It’ll speed things up. Can you have someone run the backgrounds and then start researching all the people on this list?” “Of course,” Alto said. “Excuse me for interrupting,” Buck said, “but how long are we going to be needed here? Reid’s had a long day and needs to relax. Jay, please tell us what you expect from us, so we can make our plans. We are supposed to play golf with the president and first lady tomorrow, if that’s okay. Then I want to head back to New York. I’ll have to charter a larger jet to fit everyone. Should I reserve it for tomorrow or Tuesday?”

“As long as you’re with members of the team, you can go almost any where you’d like,” Jay answered. “But the less you wander about, the better. We have reserved the rooms surrounding your suite at the hotel. It would be best if you can stay there. Just make sure you let us know if you need to go anywhere. Your game with the president needs to be cancelled. You’ll have to explain the situation to him. He’ll understand. As far as going back to New York is concerned, we can leave tomorrow. Frank and his men can cover things down here.”

“Okay,” Buck said. “Reid, I’m going to go speak with the President, then we’ll head to the hotel. We have a lot of work ahead of us and you need to get some rest.”