Match Play

by Poppe, D. Michael

  “Let’s hope he makes a mistake,” Gibson says.

  Lou rubs his hands together and looks knowingly at Tom. They’ve both been at this point in an investigation and understand the limitations they face when dealing with a smart killer.

  Tom breaks the mood with, “Bishop to F5.”

  Irving, Texas

  The Fourth Hole

  Chapter 33

  David Steadman is glad to be back in a warmer climate. He plans to go by the Las Colinas Country Club to pick up a couple of scorecards. The course will be closed to prepare for the tournament, but he is anxious to continue the match.

  David activates his GPS to find a nice hotel in the general area of the country club and chooses the Omni Mandalay Hotel at Las Colinas. Using his father’s credit card, he secures a suite on the top floor with a walk-out balcony. The suite has everything he requires, including a refrigerator and room safe.

  The desk attendant suggests he use someone from the concierge staff to help him with his luggage. He hesitates; he is exhausted after the long drive. As long as he stays with his luggage and carries the briefcase, he won’t be anxious.

  Once the attendant has unloaded David’s belongings from the luggage cart, David tips him and follows him to the door, locks it and immediately sanitizes his hands. He unpacks what he needs for the next two days, organizing and reorganizing everything.

  His plan for the fourth hole dictates finding some local Irving courses that attract older people, perhaps a public nine-hole course, something easier, less demanding than an eighteen hole course. This hole, a par 5, means that he must find someone no older than fifty-five but no younger than fifty-two. He doesn’t think it’s appropriate to make a double eagle on a par 5.

  He uses the yellow pages in the room to look for courses. First he starts with municipal golf courses, working his way out from Las Colinas Country Club, using it as the center point.

  He is surprised by the number of courses he finds within an acceptable proximity to Las Colinas. Most have advertisements for senior discounts and other provisions to attract older players.

  Fatigue is overwhelming him, he must eat and shower and get a good night’s sleep.

  After ordering dinner from room service, he leaves the tray outside the door, hangs the “do not disturb” sign and locks the door.

  He showers and carefully shaves his body. When he is finished, his long hair is the only hair remaining on his body. While drying himself, David stares at his body in the mirror. Joan’s breasts are perky; they will need to be taped down as usual.

  The match is spinning through his head. He’ll play the fourth hole in Irving and the fifth hole in Mobile, Alabama. It will be the perfect preparation for the sixth hole at the Walmart NW Arkansas Championship. By the time he arrives in Arkansas, he is sure the match will be receiving national publicity, and then the stakes will go up.

  He is sure that FBI Agent Lou Schein is his opponent in the match. He doesn’t know if Schein is staying with the case, or if he will be in Irving. Perhaps he can call Los Angeles and ask for him. If they say he is unavailable, it would not be conclusive but would certainly indicate the possibility.

  Chapter 34

  David wants a car with Texas plates; he doesn’t want to go to the Mobile Bay LPGA Classic in Alabama with Illinois license plates.

  He rises early on Thursday morning, drives to the Dallas Fort Worth Airport and parks in long-term parking. Then he takes the shuttle to the rental car facility and waits impatiently to be helped.

  He once again uses his father’s name, identification and credit card because his father was a Gold Club member, and he won’t need to fill out any paperwork to rent a car. He requests a clean SUV with low mileage and drives out of the airport in a white Ford Expedition.

  He enters “hardware store” in the GPS and finds one that he likes. Next door is a convenience store where he purchases four jars of baby food. At the hardware store, he picks up two rolls of duct tape. He sets his items on the counter and can’t help staring at the cashier as she is ringing him up. She looks to be in her early fifties and is quite attractive. He takes particular note of her hands; she isn’t wearing a wedding ring and he wonders if she lives alone.

  “Did you find everything you needed?”

  He smiles and nods. “Yes, thanks.” Using his “pleasant gentleman” voice and demeanor, he says, “Irving is a very nice city. Have you lived here a long time? I’m visiting and wondering if there is anything fun to do while I’m here.”

  She looks at him cautiously but answers, “Yes, it’s nice. I’ve been here about a year, but I haven’t really done much exploring. I did go to Dallas a couple of times, though.”

  “Oh well, I was just curious. Thanks anyway!” He smiles, picks up his bag and heads for the exit. He makes a mental note: if he is unsuccessful in his other pursuits, perhaps she will be the fourth hole.

  As he sits in the car using a hand wipe, he wishes he had time to stay in the parking lot until she leaves for the day.

  He drives back to his hotel to get his maps and notes and golf equipment. Several of the small courses in the vicinity have driving ranges. He will visit a few of them, hit some balls and see if anything presents itself.

  He is unsuccessful at the first; it just doesn’t feel right. He moves on to the second course on his list, Indian Wells. When he arrives, he stays in his car in the parking lot and observes. He is concerned of being too conspicuous; everyone seems to have white hair. He waits and watches and after a while, he begins seeing younger people. It is, after all, a municipal course.

  He retrieves his clubs from the rear of the SUV, changes his shoes and walks toward the area of the clubhouse where he expects to find the pro shop and some range balls. He is wearing sunglasses and hat. He purchases a large bucket of balls and sits on one of the benches outside the pro shop. He busies himself with his equipment while actually surveying the area.

  He sees more women than men and many of them appear to be potentials. The question is how to find her and how to play the hole.

  At the driving range, he sets up in the middle of the teeing area so he can observe everyone. Three tees to his left he sees a tall woman with gray streaks in her hair, swinging furiously. She isn’t a golfer but is certainly trying. Past her are two more women. Both too old, he determines. At the far end are a man and woman arguing; he assumes they are married which excludes her.

  To his right are one man and one woman, not appearing to be together. The woman looks to be the right age. She is rather attractive and her golf swing, though not powerful, is correct and smart. He watches her for a while as he flexes his back. He turns his attention to the woman on his left. She hits so poorly that about every third ball ricochets off the divider between the tees.

  He decides to hit a few balls and work on his course management for the match. He leaves his longer clubs in his bag; the range area is quite small and, if he uses his longer clubs, he will be hitting balls into the adjacent neighborhood.

  He works on his wedges first, dropping balls around the flags in the landing area. Then he works the medium irons. He spends most of his time working on moving the ball; he hits cuts for a while and then fades; then he changes to hooks and draws. After a number of shots he decides to give it up; the range balls are in such bad condition he can’t conclude anything about his swing from the performance of the ball.

  The woman on his right is picking up her clubs. She wipes each with her towel and arranges them in her bag. She waves to someone up by the clubhouse and heads in that direction. His first impulse is to follow her, but then he hears a ball ricochet off the wall. He decides to offer to be her golf instructor while at the same time exploring the possibility of making this errant hitter the fourth hole.

  David picks up his clubs and moves to a bench directly behind the woman. He busies himself wiping his hands and as he expects, it only takes a few minutes before she shows signs of being selfconscious. She glances at him a couple of ti
mes and then tries to hit a few more balls. His presence is only making things worse. It isn’t long before she steps back from the tee, leaving some unused balls in the tray, and drops her club into her bag.

  He knows she is preparing to leave.

  “I used to be a golf instructor,” he says to her. “If you wouldn’t mind, I can watch you swing a few more times and then, if you’re willing, I’m confident I can help you with your technique.”

  She pauses and studies him with narrowed eyes.

  “Look, no strings,” David reassures her. “It’s just that you seem so committed, and a little coaching will go a long way in helping.” He leans forward with his hands out, palms up.

  She finally smiles back at him. “I don’t know why I even try. I’m terrible at it. Actually, my husband persuaded me to take up this silly game, promising he would teach me to play but we never got around to it.”

  “Everyone struggles when they start; it’s much more difficult than it looks,” David says. “Why don’t you take out your 5 iron and hit a few more balls, then I’ll give you some suggestions that might help.” He gives her a look of encouragement. “The first thing you should do is slow down your swing. If you make good contact with the ball, the club will do all the work. Try to focus on hitting the ball solidly; don’t think about how far it should go.”

  She fumbles through her clubs and pulls the 5 iron from the bag. David stands and walks to her tee box. “I’m David, by the way,” he says with an outstretched hand.

  The woman shakes his hand and answers, “I’m Dorothy. Nice to meet you.”

  “First, let me see how you grip the club, show me where you place your hands.” He nods toward the iron and watches as she grips the club.

  Her hands continue to shift nervously, but finally she does get to an interlocked grip that looks quite good. He can see all the veins in her hands.

  “Your grip looks good, but you don’t need to strangle the club. Just keep a firm but gentle hold on it and let the tension out of your hands. The way you are gripping it, you have no feel for the club, and ‘feel’ is essential. You’ll understand what I mean after you work on your swing some more. How do you grip your putter?”

  Dorothy shrugs and says, “Not this tight!”

  “Try to hold all your clubs similarly, with the same pressure.”

  She relaxes her hands.

  “That’s much better,” David says with an encouraging smile. He bends over and places a ball on the rubber tee. Then he lays a club on the mat to align her feet and to help her direct her swing. “Now, line your feet up with the club on the mat, relax and try to make a good swing at the ball. Forget about how far you want it to go. Just concentrate on hitting the ball solidly.”

  He watches her back swing, then her forward motion. She misses the ball completely and jumps back from the club on the mat as she drops the one in her hands. She throws her hands up in the air in exasperation and gives him an imploring look.

  “I give up! What’s the use?”

  “Wait, try it again.” He walks over and sets the ball so the manufacturers name is facing up toward her. “Now keep your eye on the ball. I want you to be reading that brand while you swing. Keep your head down and focus on the writing on the ball. And swing as slow as you need to so you hit the ball.”

  This time she takes the club back about a third, when she shifts her weight her head stays remarkably still, her swing speed accelerates gradually instead of all at once from the top, and the club makes good contact with the ball. The ball jumps from the club in a nice arc, straight away, and goes about eighty yards.

  She doesn’t finish the swing but when she turns around, her face is glowing. “Gosh!” She looks back smiling. Her eyes and nose are crinkling.

  David bows his head, licks his lips and smiles a slow sexy smile, then raises his face to her with an expression that says “you did it!” The fourth hole has begun. Anticipation spreads over him.

  “That was much better. Now hit a few more and try to get a feel of your body. Find a form that is comfortable and feels balanced. I’m going to hit a few more, and then I’ll come back and check on you.”

  “Thank you, I really appreciate this,” Dorothy says as she turns her attention to her swing.

  David stands and picks up his bag. As he walks to an adjacent tee, he hears her club make solid contact with the ball; she is a good pupil.

  He works on his short irons again, shaping his shots, working the ball left and right. After about ten minutes he stops and walks back to Dorothy. She is finishing up her range balls. He stands behind her and watches. As he pulls the 3 iron from Dorothy’s bag, he steps forward and interrupts her after she makes her next swing.

  He hands her the 3 iron and takes the 5 from her hands. “Please allow me to show you a little more about the back swing.”

  “Oh, thank you! That’s my big weakness. I never did learn to do it properly,” Dorothy says.

  David goes through a few more demonstrations, does a couple of slow motion swings indicating the position of the club at the top, on the downward motion and at contact with the ball. Then he shows her how to finish the swing, to end up balanced and uncoiled.

  They again switch irons.

  “Now try a few more. Don’t try to apply everything at once, just think about one thing at a time. Try to find your own comfort zone within the parameters that I described.”

  Her posture is confident as she tilts her head to one side while listening to his instruction. She smiles slightly and grips the 5 iron to practice her swing.

  David steps back and watches as she returns her attention to the ball. When he sees that she is focused entirely on the task at hand, he steps back further, turns slightly and drops Dorothy’s 3 iron into his own bag.

  The fourth hole is taking shape, and his attention turns to course management.

  Dorothy finishes hitting her practice balls and offers to buy David a drink in the clubhouse. “Please don’t say no. You’ve helped me tremendously and I’d like to show my appreciation.”

  He accepts her offer in an amiable manner, and they walk together to the clubhouse. She pulls her clubs on a two-wheeled handcart, he carries his bag. These few minutes are an essential part of preparing to play the hole. He has gained her trust, now he must map the fairway.

  At the clubhouse, they leave their clubs sitting by the door to the lounge and enter. David is his exceptionally polite self, holding the door, again complimenting the woman’s improved play, and it is apparent she is enjoying the attention. They are seated near a window with a pleasant view of the golf course.

  David takes two hand wipe packets from his pocket, offers one to Dorothy and cleans his hands as he watches her quizzically read the packet before she opens it and wipes her hands.

  The waiter serves chips and salsa. David orders margaritas for each of them. Dorothy reaches across the table and gently touches David’s hand. “Thank you again,” she says with a shy smile.

  David almost jumps at her touch. “Don’t mention it. It was my pleasure. Have you actually gone out and played yet?”

  “I played on Ladies’ Day a couple of times with some friends, but I was so wayward and slow I haven’t played since. It isn’t fair to the others.”

  “Well, I hope your husband won’t mind that I intervened. I was just trying to protect myself from the balls you were ricocheting around the range tees.”

  They both laugh.

  “Jerry, my husband, passed away unexpectedly shortly after we moved here.” Her face softens, her eyes become sad. “He had a severe heart attack without warning, and died before the paramedics arrived. There was nothing we could do.” She turns and looks out the window.

  “I’m terribly sorry.” He feigns sympathy, feeling like he is watching himself in a movie.

  “Golfing was his idea. He played regularly even before retiring, and he thought it would be something we could do together. He bought my clubs; that was two summers ago. Jerry wanted to play
every morning. I enjoy being outside, and the course is very pretty, and since I don’t live very far from here I actually think I might be able to learn to play well enough that I might enjoy it.” She smiles and adds, “Thanks to you!”

  They continue chatting as she asks him the usual questions. It is a pleasant conversation, and by the time they finish their drinks, he has his course strategy worked out.

  Dorothy lives alone, except for a small dog and some canaries. She likes to garden and read. She’s made a few women friends in the area and feels like she needs to get on with her life.

  David pays the check, they stop briefly outside and he expresses his pleasure at meeting her. “Perhaps we will meet again?”

  Dorothy blushes as she checks her cart and glances at her clubs but does not notice the missing 3 iron. “Well, goodbye!” She offers her hand, shakes David’s hand and grabs the handle of her cart and walks away.

  David stands watching as Dorothy leaves. She bypasses the parking lot and heads down the sidewalk adjacent to the street that had brought him into the course. Suddenly realizing she walked to the golf course, he urgently rushes to his car while watching her over the tops of the parked cars. He sets his clubs in the rear and jumps in the driver’s seat, still wearing his golf shoes. He drives slowly out of the parking lot and onto the street.

  Dorothy is walking briskly in the next block, stopping occasionally to look at flowers or anything that attracts her attention. He holds back, pulling to the curb behind a parked car. At the next corner, she crosses the street and disappears to the right. He edges his way up to the corner, turns and pulls to the curb again.

  She is ahead of him. He watches her closely. He can feel her in his body, the essence of something, the desire compelling him to conclude the fourth hole. He has trouble concentrating as the feeling grows stronger.