Scottsdale Silence: a fun, romantic, thrilling, adventure... (Laura Black Mysteries Book 9)

by B A Trimmer

  “Hey, Carson,” I said as I waved. “It’s good to see you again. Thanks again for all the help you gave me a few weeks ago. I really do appreciate it.”

  His face turned a little pink when I praised him in front of Tony. “No problem, ma’am,” he said in a flat voice. “Just doing my job.”

  Instead of the usual big green cart with the rest of the security detail, only a standard two-person cart was waiting behind us. There was only one man in it.

  I’d seen him around before but had no idea what his name was. The lack of a proper security force around Tony struck me as a bit odd.

  “How are you doing?” I asked as we took our seats in the back of the big red cart. “Every time I see you, it seems like you’re walking better.”

  “That I am. The effects of the shooting are slowly dissipating. Of course, something like this will always leave a permanent scar. I fear I’ll never be completely back to my old self, physically, that is.”

  “You’ve come a long way from where you started.”

  “That’s true. However, as you’ll soon see, I’m forced to rely on a cart for golfing, at least for the time being. I may have told you this before, but I believe the proper way to experience a golf course is to walk it.”

  “You did. You’ve said it’s the only way to get a feel for whether or not they’re keeping up with the maintenance.”

  “That, and you’re able to get the overall impression of the hole. You can discover little features you’d likely miss if you drove by in a cart. Walking down a long fairway after a great shot can be an emotional experience.”

  “I’m glad you’re able to get out again. Has it affected your game?”

  Tony laughed. “As a matter of fact, it’s thrown it all to hell. It’s difficult to make a proper swing with a stiff back. But I’m gradually adjusting to the realities of my physical condition.”

  “At least you’re golfing again. It’s better than what could have happened. When Carlos shot you, I’d pretty much assumed you were dead.”

  “I won’t say those fears were unjustified. As I’ve told you, at the time, I also feared the worst.”

  We reached the tenth hole on the Kokopelli course, a long par five with a slight dogleg left, hiding the pin from us. We each pulled out a driver and walked to the tee boxes.

  “Why don’t you choose a box and have honors,” Tony said.

  “Are you still hitting from the third one back?” I asked.

  “Perhaps I’m a little optimistic, but it’s the same tee box I’ve played ever since I built the course. I’m comfortable with it, even though my drives are now considerably shorter.

  “Then it’s okay. The third box will work for me as well.”

  I placed a ball on a tee and got ready to hit. I remembered when I’d hit my first shot here in front of Tony, Max, and Gabriella. At the time, I’d been more worried about them looking at my ass than about hitting the ball.

  Somehow, playing with Tony today wasn’t making me nervous at all. My bigger worry was simply trying not to embarrass myself with my rusty golf skills.

  I hit the ball and my swing felt okay. The ball flew straight, but the distance was disappointing. For a moment, I felt a pang of guilt for not keeping up with my game.

  Tony then set up his ball and hit a shot that was also straight but only went about seventy yards farther than mine. This was close to fifty yards shorter than what he’d hit earlier in the year.

  Tony shook his head. “As I told you, my drives have gone to hell.”

  We climbed into the cart and took off. One feature that seems a little unusual about the courses at Tony’s resorts is that carts aren’t allowed on the grass of the fairway. The cart paths have raised concrete shoulders to remind golfers of that fact.

  Carson stopped even with my ball. I grabbed a three wood and was able to hit a decent shot off the fairway. It landed short, but got a good bounce and rolled to within a hundred yards of the green.

  Tony’s shot again flew straight, but it was easy to tell his swing speed was way down. His ball stopped a good fifty yards from the pin.

  As we got in the cart and started cruising toward our balls, I saw the spot where I’d almost been hit when I’d foolishly run across the fairway. This had happened during the pro tournament, three weeks earlier.

  Unfortunately, I’d tried to cross just as one of the golfers had hit a solid drive. Luckily, the ball missed me, but I could still hear the whizzing sound the ball made as it sped by, inches from my head.

  Tony chipped up to the near-side fringe of the green and two-putted for a par. I hit a poor shot into the sand trap, chipped out, then three-putted for a double bogey.

  The eleventh hole was a straight par four with the pin in the back of the green. People were still putting, so we stood at the tee box and waited for them to finish.

  “From what I understand,” Tony said, “you and Max are still getting along well.”

  “So far, so good.”

  “I don’t know how much he’s explained about what’s going on with the business. But in case you haven’t gathered in the full picture yet, I’ll fill in some of the details.”

  “That would be great. Max has only given me the abridged version so far.”

  “One of the reasons I delayed the handover to Max was my injury, of course. I needed to show the change of leadership was not made from a position of weakness, but as part of a well thought out succession plan.”

  “That makes sense. Max did explain that part to me.”

  “I know the delay might have seemed to be indecision on my part. Unfortunately, that couldn’t be helped. The more important reason for the delay was to begin preparations for the split.”

  “What split?”

  “Ah, I see Max hasn’t completely filled you in yet.” Tony let out a small chuckle. “One of the things I appreciate most about Max is his ability not to leak information.”

  “You were talking about the split?”

  “Yes, and we talked a little about this last month. When I first came out to Arizona, I had our lawyers set up the company to separate the two sides of the business. By doing so, it became much harder for the authorities to prosecute the resort side of the company.”

  “Right. You said your goal was to eventually sever the connections between the two sides completely.”

  “And that’s exactly what I’ve been doing. Now, with Max taking over as head of the resorts, the separation process has started.”

  “Are you getting rid of the other side? Like selling it or something?”

  “No, it’s still a strong business. But it’s time to let it go its own way without being tied down to the resorts.”

  “Are you still going to lead that part of it?”

  “What I told you about retiring is completely true. I’ll be out of things, other than as an informal advisor.”

  “Then who’ll take that part over? Are you bringing in someone new?”

  “Not at all. Once the split finalizes, Johnny will lead that side.”

  “I thought he didn’t want the position?”

  “What he didn’t want was to run the resort side of things. Johnny always thought the resorts needed to be led by someone who had a better public presence than he thinks he has.”

  “I never thought Johnny would be bad at running the resorts,” I said. “Everybody respects him and he knows what he’s doing.”

  “Johnny’s told me more than once that the resorts need a marketing promotor to run them. His choice for that has always been Max.”

  “Tony, why are you telling me this? I know you’ve kept me at arm’s length about that side of the business, and honestly, I’m grateful. The less I know, the better off I’ll be.”

  “It’s because this will start to affect your relationship with Max. As word gets around that the resorts are no longer part of the other side of what we do, it will give Max a certain amount of freedom to act more openly in public.”

  “I’ve already
noticed that. We went out to dinner in the open this week. Do you think the police will stop looking into him?”

  “Over time, I believe so. Once it’s clear the resorts are no longer involved, the police will start to look elsewhere. They’ll always find more glory in trying to stop something ongoing, rather than something that happened in the past.”

  “That would be wonderful.”

  “What you always have to keep in mind is Scottsdale’s economy and real estate markets are built around the golf resorts. Look at a map of the city sometime and you’ll see what I mean. It wouldn’t be in the city’s interests to have any of them tainted or shut down.”

  As I listened to Tony, what he was saying started to sink in. With Max gradually giving up control of the criminal enterprise, the pressure should start to ease up. It might never completely go away, but perhaps this would give us a chance to act like regular people for a change.

  “Tony, that’s great news. It’s probably the best news I’ve had all year.”

  The foursome ahead of us finished putting and walked off the green. Tony had honors and again shot straight but ended up about a hundred and fifty yards short of the green. He seemed to accept his new swing with a shake of his head.

  I stepped up and tried to add some power to my swing. The ball went further than on my first drive, but I ended up hooking it and the ball rolled into the rough.

  We got into the cart and Carson took off. I looked behind us to see the man in the second cart following us.

  “It seems a little strange to see you golfing without Gabriella watching over you,” I said.

  “These men are mainly here to prevent me from being harassed by people who may wish to confront me. I will admit, it does feel a little strange not having Gabriella, or at least Johnny, as my bodyguard, but it’s not entirely unpleasant.”

  “How so?”

  “Now that I’ve retired, my need for security has gone down a notch. It’s given me a certain freedom of movement I previously did not have.”

  My shot from the rough was only okay and my ball rolled to the fringe of the green. Tony’s shot looked beautiful, but the ball fell straight down and landed without rolling, five yards short of the green.

  He let out a sigh. “I went down a club to compensate for my new swing. It looks like I may need to go down another.”

  Tony chipped on and two-putted for bogey. I three-putted and also scored a bogey.

  The twelfth hole was a short par three with a sand trap guarding the green. As with the last time I’d played here, my goal was to get the ball over the trap without it sailing too far over the green.

  Tony’s swing was good and he chose the right club. His ball arched high into the air and landed to the right of the pin. It rolled five feet, then came to a stop.

  I hit and my swing felt terrific. The ball flew high in the sky and landed with a plop on the green’s left side. It rolled about ten feet and stopped, no more than twenty feet from the pin.

  “Wow,” I said. “That felt great.”

  “You made a nice shot. I think your mind was elsewhere and you weren’t trying too hard. Your natural swing was able to emerge.”

  We put the clubs in the bags then pulled out our putters. He told Carson we would walk the hole. Carson took off and we started toward the green.

  “Tony, a few months ago, I asked why you didn’t switch to running resorts full time and get out of the other businesses. You said you needed the other side to protect the resorts. Did something change?

  “That’s a fair question, and truth be told, it was your question that got me thinking more about it. In the old days, the resorts absolutely needed the protection of the other side. However, as Carlos showed us, it’s the other side that is now the more vulnerable.”

  “Are you talking about competition from the cartels?”

  “Yes, but it’s not only the cartels. Society itself is changing.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Twenty years ago, we were the only place a serious gambler could go for a fair game. Now there are ten casinos within an hour’s drive from here. We provide management and security for many of them, but it’s in no way the same business.”

  “But the rest is doing okay?”

  “It used to be we had good business in the soft drug trade. It was all used for recreation and the authorities would often turn a blind eye. Now, half the states have legalized the drugs that made up our business. The widespread availability has caused prices everywhere to crash.”

  “How can you respond to something like that?”

  “The cartels have moved into importing heroin and fentanyl. The margins are still good since only a few states have decriminalized those, at least so far. The downside is those drugs are for more than pure recreation. They cause death and misery. It’s why I’ve always resisted going in that direction. Besides, you have some firsthand experience at how eager the authorities are to stop that trade, at least in Arizona.”

  “I can understand why they want to crack down on those. But what about the ones in the middle? Like diet pills, painkillers, and sleeping pills. Those sorts of things.”

  “We’ve found narcotics to be a tough market for the past six or seven years. Street prices have remained very low. We suspect there is a separate source feeding these pills into Arizona.”

  “You make it sound like it’s all become a no-win business.”

  “Not all is lost. There’s still good money to be made off people’s vices. But yes, times have definitely changed.”

  When we got to the green, Tony was away and two-putted for par. I lined up my shot and had visions of a birdie.

  I gave it a solid stroke with the putter and it arched towards the hole, nicely breaking with the grain of the grass. Unfortunately, it stopped less than six inches before landing in the cup.

  Tony shook his head and shared my pain. “Golf can indeed be a frustrating game,” he said. “But every once in a while, you’ll make the most beautiful shot. It’s the search for the perfect shot that always keeps me coming back.”

  We drove toward the tee boxes for the thirteenth hole and got a welcome surprise. Johnny was waiting for Tony in the back of the big green cart. Even more of a surprise, Gabriella was driving. Two more unfamiliar goons sat in a separate cart, maybe twenty yards away.

  “I didn’t expect to see Johnny and Gabriella here today,” I said as we drove to the boxes.”

  “Johnny and I will play the rest of the round together. He’s been brushing up on his game. He wasn’t overly eager at first, but I reminded him that no one can run a serious business in Scottsdale without being at least competent on the golf course.”

  “And Gabriella’s his bodyguard?”

  “Who else? For the time being, she’ll split her duties between Max and Johnny. But, as we move forward with the split, Max won’t need anyone like her. She has unique skills that will be valuable to Johnny’s organization going forward.”

  Seeing Tony come around the corner, Johnny got out of the cart and walked over to the tee box. Once we stopped, I got out of the cart, walked over to the big man, and gave him a hug.

  “Congratulations on the new position,” I said. “I think I’ve gotten to know you pretty well since the first time at Junior Baker’s Blues Club. I know you’ll do great.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “I’ll admit, it still feels a little strange. It will be a long transition, but overall, it’s a welcome change.”

  The foursome playing ahead of us were still on the green. Tony started talking business with Johnny, so I walked over to where Gabriella was sitting in the cart.

  As always, her eyes were scanning the area. Her black Ferrucci Spy bag was on the seat next to her.

  “I see you’ll be getting a new job as well. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “Is not so much new job, but new boss. It’s okay. I like Johnny and I protect him.”

  “Once they complete the split of the company, it do
esn’t sound like we’ll be seeing each other as much.”

  “Maybe not as much, but we will still see each other. Max and I have known each other for years. I no let him get too far out of my sight. But I no worry, he now has you to keep track of him.”

  I dropped my voice a little, even though the other men were too far away to hear. “Have you heard anything more about the guy Major Malakov talked about? Viktor?”

  “Viktor Pyotrovich Glazkov,” Gabriella said. As she mentioned the name, her face seemed to harden and a look of determination came into her eyes. “He will be problem.”

  “How can I help?”

  “Unless you can tell me where he is currently living, there is nothing you can do. I have been putting off this day for many years. But it’s okay. I knew I would need to take care of him someday.”

  “Will Max be able to help?”

  Gabriella smiled. It was one of the few times I’d seen it happen. It softened her face and she became absolutely gorgeous.

  “Max has offered several times to go with me and hunt Viktor. He is good man and I know his offer is honest. But Viktor is my problem. I will take care of him as soon as I am able.”

  “You don’t think he’ll send someone out here first?”

  “No, that is not his method. He will spend many months gathering information on me and planning, the same as I will.”

  Tony came back to where Gabriella and I were chatting.

  “Laura Black,” he said as he put his hand on my shoulder. “It’s been an enjoyable three holes. Now that I’ll have more free time, we’ll need to plan a full round together sometime soon.”

  “I’d love that, Tony. Call me anytime.”

  A little way down the path, a man in a Blue Palms uniform waited for me in a cart. He transferred my clubs to his vehicle and then drove me back to the golf valet.

  ~~~~

  Since I was too late to follow Michael Palmer from the hospital, I parked down the street from the townhouse and waited. At about twelve forty-five, he came down the road and pulled into his driveway.

  He’s right on time.

  He got out of his car and unlocked the front door. Once he was safely inside, I made myself comfortable.