* * * * *
Now, this wasn’t the first time I have looked into the activities of a club pro to see if he was banging another man’s wife. Hell, it wasn’t even the second time. I’ve seen the pros and women at the ranges, on the courses and in the clubs. While they think they’re fooling everyone (and they might be), they’re never fooling me. I got this sixth sense you see. I can almost (not always, but almost) see things between people for what they really are.
Like the time I was watching another club pro and businessman’s wife. On the range, everything was all prim and proper. They were never alone. Indeed, she always took lessons in a group vice one-on-one lessons. He never touched her and spent no more time with her than any of the other ladies in the group. She did play a round of golf with him twice a week, but it was always a foursome with two other ladies. And try as I might, I could never catch them sneaking off somewhere after hours for a short tryst.
But I knew.
I knew those two were doing the beast with two backs, but I couldn't prove it. For three weeks, I tried. I was almost ready to call it quits and tell the client it was a bust, when I decided to follow them on one of their rounds of golf.
I managed to join a foursome that had a tee time after the pro one day and followed them. The pro, the wife and the two ladies teed off and after ten minutes, we followed suit. By the time I was making my approach shot to the first green, the golf instructor and his three gals were on the second tee. Suddenly, one of the ladies appeared to be faint, and after some worried looks around, the foursome evidentially decided to call it quits. They took off in their carts down the fairway. After a discreet wait, I excused myself from my foursome and followed.
The pro, with the wife firmly ensconced beside him, was in one cart. The other two ladies were in the other. They veered off the court and went towards a home that was situated on the second fairway. (I found out later this was the home of the lady who appeared to have fainted.) The garage door opened, and the two carts went in and the door rapidly closed behind them
Bingo.
I snooped around the house and was soon rewarded with sounds of passionate lovemaking coming out of two bedrooms. It seemed that the wife had worked out a little deal with her lady friends. The three ladies were all cheating on their spouses, the wife with the pro and the two gals with each other! It was damn exciting stuff, and since I was now wise to the situation, I staked out the home for a week or two and got all the proof I needed to close the case.
The point of all this is that I knew something was up the second I saw these two together. Admittedly I didn’t catch on to the lesbian angle, but, hey, no one is perfect.
So when I saw Gloria and Willard together on the course, I knew in a heartbeat that while Willard might have wanted to jump her bones, Gloria was having none of it.
I was going to have to look elsewhere to find out if she had a lover.
I trailed Mrs. Randall for a few days, keeping an eye on her as she went about her routine, everyday business. She was the model suburban wife, going to the store, shopping at the local mall, taking her occasional golf lesson. Every night she’d be home to greet her husband with a crisp, cold martini in hand to help him unwind from a hard day at the hospital.
I expected as much. I discontinued the shadowing of her and called up Dr. Randall. I told him the results of the investigation so far and asked him when his next tour of duty at the emergency room was. He told me that he was scheduled to start a five-day stretch that Wednesday. I told him that I’d take the next day off then start an evening stakeout on her Wednesday evening.
“Well, I know she’ll be going to church that night,” he volunteered. “She always sings in the choir Wednesday night and Sunday.”
I got the name of the church, Mt. Calvary Baptist, and the location from him, just in case I missed her at home.
Chapter 4
Scrambled Hard-Boiled Page 6