Deep Rough - A Thriller in Augusta

by Blewitt, Chris; Blewitt, Chris

  “I’m game if the boss lets me.”

  She called over to the bar, “Robert, Craig and I are skipping out tonight.”

  Craig whispered to her, “What are you, crazy?”

  Robert called back, “I knew you wouldn’t last long.” He turned to Hank, “No harm in letting these two out of our hairs tonight.”

  Hank was looking at Craig. “Fine with me. Have fun, Craig.”

  Lori turned back to Craig and lifted her beer. “See?”

  Craig lifted his cup and tapped hers before taking a sip. “That was easy.”

  “It’s all about the female persuasion.” Lori smiled at Craig and finished the last of her beer.

  <><><><><>

  “We can’t get in touch with him, Mr. Humphrey,” Brewster said. He and Stumps had tried to call Hank numerous times, but his phone was turned off.

  “Damn cell phones,” Humphrey said. He leaned back in his chair and thought about his next course of action.

  Stumps interrupted his thoughts, “We left a message at his hotel to call us when he gets back. Should be later today after the first round is over.”

  “Okay, let’s hope it’s not too late.” Mr. Humphrey got up from his chair and began pacing around the small, dark office. Brewster and Stumps nervously watched their boss and had to step out of his way as he paced back and forth in front of them. “You two are going down there tomorrow.”

  The two men smiled at each other, but the next words out of their boss’ mouth turned those smiles into frowns. “Not to watch the damn golf tournament. I don’t trust Fredericks to handle this situation on his own. Even though he brought it on himself, I want you to handle that other situation tonight and then catch the first flight out in the morning.”

  “Yes, sir,” Stumps said.

  “I trust you both. Don’t let me down. Call me tonight with good news.”

  <><><><><>

  Three over par was in no sense time to panic, but Chet Walker was six strokes out of the lead. The back nine had gotten off to a good start as he birdied the eleventh hole, but he followed that up by splashing his tee shot in the pond that fronted the twelfth hole and made double-bogey. He birdied both par-fives, thirteen, and fifteen, but bogeyed seventeen. Lori and Craig caught up to Walker as he stepped on to the eighteenth tee. Walker hit his driver perfectly into the short grass with his left-to-right fade carrying the ball over three hundred yards.

  They made their way down the fairway after the threesome of golfers. Walker always had the largest gallery follow him around the course, and many were jogging through the trees towards the green in order to get the best view.

  “I wonder where my uncle has been all day. I thought I’d find him on the course today.” Lori was looking in all directions towards the green, trying to pick him out of the crowd of volunteers, spectators, and members.

  “There are twenty thousand people here,” Craig said.

  “I know, but if he’s wearing his green jacket, it should be easier to find him.”

  They stopped about a hundred yards from the green as Chet Walker approached his second shot. It was only a pitching wedge to the green, but Walker butchered it, sending the ball well right of the green into the gallery. He said some expletives under his breath and walked towards the green with his head down.

  “I wonder what’s wrong with him today,” Lori said.

  “I don’t know,” Craig responded. “He’s hitting his driver well, but he’s been pushing his irons right all day.” Craig walked towards the green but continued past it towards the scoring tent.

  “Where are you going?” Lori asked. “Don’t you want to see him finish out?”

  Craig ignored her and pulled out the tee-time sheet from his back pocket. “Do you have a pen?” He had an idea.

  Lori reached into her purse and said, “Are you trying to get his autograph? Good luck.”

  He took the pen from her and wrote something down. They waited a few minutes until Walker finished, went into the scoring tent to sign his scorecard, and came walking back through the throngs of people towards the driving range. People of all ages were thrusting their hands out, holding all sorts of things for Walker to sign. Being the good sort he was, Walker signed hats, magazines, programs, and shirts. Craig squeezed his way towards the front and waited until Walker and his caddy approached.

  As they came towards him, Craig waited until Walker had past him and reached out with his hand towards the caddy. “Read it,” Craig said under his breath.

  Stan, the caddy, ignored Craig’s instructions and instead took the paper and handed it to Walker, who signed it and handed it back to Craig.

  “Damn,” Craig said. Dejected, he forced his way out of the crowd and walked over to Lori.

  “Did you get it?” she asked.

  “Um, yeah.”

  Lori looked puzzled. “You don’t seem too happy about it. You looked like a ten-year-old boy out there.”

  “No, it’s great. I might have to give this to my dad, that’s all. I should have gotten two signatures.”

  Lori was looking towards the clubhouse when she spotted him. “There he is!” She went trotting away, grabbing Craig’s hand. “Uncle Red!”

  Craig didn’t see him at first. He was looking around for the man in the green jacket, but there were so many of them. Lori released her hand and went up to Red Maitland and hugged him. Craig stopped dead in his tracks, realizing that Lori’s Uncle Red was the man from the video with Hank.

  “Hi, Lori,” Red said in his gravely voice. “So glad you could make it down.”

  “It’s great to see you,” she said. “I’ve been looking all over for you. This is my friend, Craig.” She turned to introduce him and noticed that Craig was still ten feet behind them. “Craig, get over here.”

  It took a few seconds for Craig to move, and he gingerly walked towards Lori and her uncle. “Hi,” he managed to say.

  Red extended his hand and Craig did so with his. “Nice to meet you, Craig. How are you enjoying the tournament?”

  “Ah, it’s great, sir.”

  “This is Craig’s first trip to Augusta, Uncle Red.”

  “Good for you. I hope it’s everything you expected.”

  Craig was fumbling for words. “Yes, it is.” He tried hard to cover his disillusion that he was talking to the man from the video. “It’s really a great tournament.”

  Red turned back towards Lori. “Sorry I didn’t catch up with you earlier. You know how busy I am this week.”

  “I know; it’s no problem. Craig has been keeping me company. You should be happy he’s here since he does manage the great Chet Walker.”

  Red raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really, well, then you must be with that group from Philadelphia. What’s their name again?”

  Craig thought about lying but quickly knew that Lori already knew he was from Coldridge. “Coldridge, sir.”

  Red’s dark eyes turned bright and the wrinkles on his forehead expanded. “Right, right, Coldridge. Glad to have you here, Craig. I suppose you came with Hank Fredericks?”

  “Yes, we both came down yesterday.”

  Red turned back to Lori. “I have to get back to work, Lori. Maybe we can hook up for lunch tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, that’d be nice. Of course, Hank and Robert are hanging out in the tent all day, so that’s probably where we’ll be.”

  Red leaned in and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Great to see you, hon.” He looked at Craig and said, “Nice to meet you, Craig. We’ll see each other tomorrow, I hope.”

  Craig managed a smile and watched Red walk away.

  “Craig,” Lori said, “you look like you saw a ghost.”

  He grabbed her hand and starting walking. “Me? I’m fine.”

  Lori looked down at their intertwined hands and smiled. “Let’s go get the drunks and head back to our hotels.”

  Craig’s head was on a swivel as he turned in all directions, looking to see where Red Maitland had run off to.

  C
hapter 13

  “I don’t think I can do this, Brewster,” Stumps said as he interrupted their drive in silence. Dusk was approaching, and the black SUV that Brewster was driving had just pulled out of the underground parking garage in Philadelphia. After their meeting with Humphrey, the two men had called US Airways and booked a 9:30 am flight to Augusta, Georgia, the following morning. They had trouble finding a hotel room and had to settle on a Motel 6 twenty miles from the golf course. They didn’t plan on being there long, but made a reservation for three nights nonetheless.

  “Huh? What, you don’t like flying?” Brewster replied.

  “No, not that. Tonight, I can’t do this.”

  Brewster smiled and said, “You want me to turn around so you can tell Humphrey the same thing?”

  Stumps turned and looked out the window. The truck made a right turn onto 13th Street and traffic came to a halt. “I freaking hate rush hour!” Stumps exclaimed.

  “I’m driving; what do you care?” Brewster said.

  Stumps ignored him and focused on a pair of men walking into a bar called McGillins. “Pull over; let’s get a drink.”

  “What? We’ve got work to do.” But Brewster changed his mind quickly, thinking a drink could do them both good right now. “Where the hell am I going to find a spot to park?”

  “Right there!” Stumps pointed to a car just pulling out of a spot on the street in front of them. Brewster quickly maneuvered the car into the space, and both men got out of the car.

  “Still forty minutes on the meter, too,” Brewster said.

  “Let’s go; I’m buying,” Stumps said.

  There were no windows fronting the small corner bar. They walked in and saw that the pub had a dozen tables that lined the left side of the place and a few tables in the rear. The men clearly outnumbered the women in the place, about two to one. The bar itself had high-backed chairs, and older men occupied each one of them. A large man appearing to be in his fifties had a towel draped over his shoulder and was pulling from the tap when Brewster and Stumps walked by and headed towards the back.

  They sat down, ordered two pints of beer from the young waitress, and casually looked over the menus.

  “I’m not even hungry,” Stumps said, putting down the menu. He looked at the waitress and noticed her attributes from the rear. She had long black hair that almost reached the top of her tight jeans. She grabbed the two beers from the bar and turned to find Stumps staring at her. She smiled and set the beers down on the table.

  “Can I have an order of cheeses fries?” Brewster asked.

  The waitress didn’t bother to write down the order and turned towards Stumps. “See anything you like?” she asked.

  Stumps was embarrassed she had caught him looking at her and just said, “No thanks.” The waitress walked away without looking back at either of them.

  “Nice,” Brewster said.

  Changing the subject, Stumps said, “I’m serious; I can’t do this.”

  “Stop worrying about tonight and start thinking about the ten thousand dollars that’ll be in your hands tomorrow. Cash.”

  <><><><><>

  After the short, silent ride back to the hotel, Craig took a long, hot shower in his room. The water spilled off his body, and the warmth brought him some much needed relief. He leaned against the white tiles of the shower stall and thought about his failed attempt to attract the attention of Chet Walker. He wanted to talk to Chet, and he would have to try again the following day. Craig toweled himself dry and focused on the upcoming evening. In his mind, he thanked Lori extensively for relinquishing both of them of their duties to their bosses. The last thing on earth he wanted to do was hang out with Hank.

  Lori had commandeered the car from Robert and offered to pick him up for dinner that night. She arrived around seven, and they set off on their first official “date”. They arrived at a place called Cappeli’s that was on a narrow country road not far from Craig’s hotel. Although she had promised good Southern food, this place was clearly Italian.

  “I changed my mind,” Lori said. “Well, Jake’s changed it for me. They almost laughed when I called for a reservation, they were booked solid. You’ll love this place, though. That is, if you like Italian.”

  “Oh, I do,” Craig replied.

  The perfect gentleman, Craig opened the front door for Lori and they walked into the restaurant. Craig hadn’t noticed because she was driving, but when she had gotten out of the car, Lori looked stunning. She had a on a loose-fitting beige skirt that almost covered her feet it was so long. The white t-shirt that clung to her breasts very tightly was slightly covered by a tan jacket that just reached her waist. As they walked inside, a stuffy young man standing at a podium asked for their name. Lori gave hers, and they were escorted through the dining room to a table near the back by the kitchen. The place was crowded with tourists from the golf tournament. The man pulled out Lori’s seat for her and handed them both a menu. Craig received two, one a wine list.

  “Isn’t it funny how they always give the man the wine list?” she said loud enough for the man to hear her. The man didn’t look in her direction and walked back to his station by the door.

  “Do you want to pick out the wine?” Craig didn’t know whether she was joking or not.

  “No, go ahead. I’m interested in hearing what you select.”

  Craig nervously looked the wine list over and made a selection when the waiter came over to take their order. “We’ll have the house white, please.” He smiled at Lori when the man walked away with their order.

  Lori smiled, “A man that knows me well after one day together.”

  “Well, since you were a beer drinker and worked for AB,” Craig said, winking at her, “I thought that a simple wine would do us fine.”

  She chuckled and looked over her menu. “Tell me about yourself, Craig.”

  “What is this, a job interview?”

  “Well, I need to know the applicant before he gets the job.” She looked up and smiled at him. “I mean what about family. I take it you’re not married, right?”

  He laughed. “No, I’m not married.”

  “Good. Ever been?”

  “No. You?”

  “Close, once. I was in a bad relationship for a long time and just ended it last year. We were in college when we met, but it never progressed far enough. He never outgrew college and never matured. I think it really devastated him to get a dose of reality like that when I broke up with him. Me, I moved on like we were never together. It was a long time coming.” She paused. “Hey, I thought I was asking the questions?”

  He put down his menu and said, “Then go right ahead.”

  “You ever that close?”

  “No, not really. I mean, I dated after college, but nothing that serious. I live alone in a townhouse outside Philly and I’ve worked at Coldridge since graduation. Dad helped me get the job. My parents still live nearby, and I see them every Sunday for dinner. My older brother is married with one kid and another on the way. That’s it; what you see is what you get.”

  The waiter interrupted them with the wine and poured them both a glass. Craig ordered the veal saltimbocca, Lori the spinach tortellini. Craig raised his glass and made a toast, “To a new friendship.”

  “To a new friendship,” Lori replied. They tapped glasses and took a sip of the wine. Lori turned her nose up and said, “I’ll take a Bud over this anytime.”

  They both laughed and resumed their conversation. Craig was enthralled at meeting such a simple woman with simple tastes. It was a shame they lived in different cities and she would go back to St. Louis and he back to Philadelphia. If life were fair, they’d both move to the Carolinas and begin a relationship down there, a place Craig dreamed of retiring to someday.

  After their meal, they were both very tired and called it a night. As Lori pulled into his hotel parking lot, Craig noticed that Hank’s light was off, so he was either still out or sleeping. He didn’t want to be bothered by an awkward con
versation with his boss.

  “Thanks again for getting us out tonight,” he said.

  “My pleasure. Robert can be stiff as a board when he’s at work but get him outside the office and he’s a pussycat. Thank you for joining me this evening.”

  “That was my pleasure.” Craig leaned in and gave her a kiss on the cheek. As he started to pull back she lightly grabbed his face and pushed her lips against his. They kissed for a few moments before stopping. “Glad that wasn’t awkward,” he said.

  She smiled at him. “See you tomorrow, Craig.”

  “Drive safe, Lori.”

  Craig went up the stairs to his room and watched her pull away from the hotel and head out to the main highway. He went in his room and shut the door. He hadn’t noticed the curtains in Hank’s room were slightly pulled back so his boss could watch his romantic encounter with Lori.

  <><><><><>

  Leaving McGillins, Stumps felt a little better about himself and what they were about to accomplish that night. A few pints of Harp hadn’t hurt either. Brewster checked his watch and realized that they were cutting it close. He stepped on the accelerator and pushed the SUV into the night, towards their destination.

  “Okay, remember our plan,” Brewster said.

  “Give me a break; I got it down pat.”

  Brewster looked over at him and in his mind still saw the whimpering man who had been crying in his beer two hours ago. If they failed Humphrey, both of their asses would be out of a job. The SUV passed the bridge toll and Stumps looked out the window at all of the Atlantic City signs. “$1 Million Slots Tournament – May 30th”, “Bette Midler – June 4th”, “$10,000 Texas Hold’Em Tournament – May 15th”. That last one certainly caught his attention. An avid card player, he traveled to Atlantic City once ever other month and tried his luck in the poker tournaments. The $10,000 he was earning tonight may go straight to Mr. Trump the next month.

  The SUV pulled into the parking lot just after nine o’clock. The gates to the apartment complex would close for the night in less than an hour. Only an access card would get you in or out. This job had to be quick. Brewster parked the car near building number three, as close to the entrance as possible. He did not want meddling strangers seeing two guys walk in and out of an apartment in less than ten minutes.