Michael Balkind - Sudden Death

“Oh my God! Not another one!” Joan shrieked. “When are they going to find this guy?”

Reid walked over to her and gave her a hug. “Calm down, Ma, it’s going to be okay. These guys are the best protection we could have. They’ll get him…or her.” “I’m just scared. I can’t help it.” “I know, me too,” he admitted. They spent a few hours riding the waves, eating lunch and soaking in the sun, but the news of the second threat had put a damper on things. The only highlight of Reid’s day was finding out that Stu had played college lacrosse. After an easy warm-up catch, they began throwing the ball harder and harder until they were firing shots at each other at breakneck speed. They had to quit after a little while because they had attracted an audience. After all, how many times do you get to see the nation’s top golfer throwing a lacrosse ball at Jones Beach? Kids rushed from all over the beach with their sticks to join in. He threw a ball with them until Joel said, “Sorry, kids, we have to go.”

After a quiet dinner it was time for bed. The day at the beach hadn’t been as much of a distraction as Reid had hoped. The relentless thoughts of the threats were now etched into his brain. Usually, Reid looked forward to a good night’s rest after an active day. But sleep was becoming more difficult every night. Reid was beginning to dread the thought of going to bed in fear that lying alone would magnify his turmoil.

In season, Sundays are rarely a day of rest for a PGA golfer; quite the oppo site, in fact. Today, Reid wanted to do absolutely nothing but relax and maybe take a walk. Betsy had to get back to her family in Connecticut. She hadn’t seen them in more than a week. She agreed to drive back down with Steve and the kids the following weekend to watch the final rounds of the Classic. Hunter had made plans to spend the day with her friend, Dayle, who lived in the area. After lunch, Reid, Shane, Joel and Stu drove Betsy to the airport. She had to fly to Hartford where her car had been parked since she had flown to Augusta. They dropped her off, then drove to Ward Pound Ridge Reservation and took a two-hour hike through the woods. It was exactly what Reid needed to help him relax.

Later, he watched the end of the LPGA tournament on TV. It remind ed him that he needed to make hotel reservations. He couldn’t chance the distractions of staying at the house during the tournament, and he would need his daily massage. He called and reserved a suite and four additional rooms at The Rye Town Hilton, which was only a few miles from the golf course.

It was decided that Joel, Stu, Buddy and Reid would head to the hotel in the morning, while Lance and Beebs would drive Shane to her apartment. She would return to the house on Wednesday and stay through the tournament.

Reid was breaking one of his own rules: No girlfriends around during tournaments. Never mix women and golf. It’ll be okay, he tried to convince himself. I just need to get into the zone during the tournament and I’ll be fine. Nothing distracts me when I’m in the zone.

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?”