Match Play

by Poppe, D. Michael

  “Thank you, Bruce and Nancy,” says Lou. “I’ve been called to LA to update Tom Bachman on what’s happened in the last week. I’ve arranged for us all to have some time off. Nancy is going to Phoenix and will meet us in Parker, Colorado, but the rest of us will take a flight together out of LA on Monday, July 29. The secondary team will follow up on any new leads and will stay in contact with me.”

  Everyone applauds and then gathers their notes as quickly as they can.

  Parker, Colorado

  The Tenth Hole

  Chapter 60

  David arrives at Black Bear Golf Club shortly after nine-thirty in the morning with the intention of warming up until his reserved tee time. Since today is Ladies’ Day, he won’t be able to tee off until the ladies are on the course.

  He feels too conspicuous in the middle of all the women golfers so he goes to the lounge for coffee until all but a few are on the course. He doesn’t spot the infamous FBI flyers, and no one pays attention to him.

  Finally, he goes to the pro shop, pays his fees and get a bucket of range balls. It is a sticky, humid day and his shirt is glued to his back while he is warming up with his 3 iron. He’d like to take off his cap to cool his head, but knows his loose hair will attract attention.

  A few women are hitting balls. He surveys them carefully, then moves closer to two of them. He sets his clubs at one of the tee boxes, sits at the nearest bench and begins to adjust his shoes. He sneaks an occasional peek, scrutinizing the women. Both appear to be in their early forties and are hitting the ball quite well. They are chatting back and forth as they practice. It is obvious they are friends and intend to play together.

  He casually walks to his bag, pulls out a 5 iron and begins working the ball around the 180 flag. He makes his interest more apparent as the minutes pass and finally speaks to the nearest woman.

  “You hit the ball very well,” he says with a smile.

  “You mean for a woman, don’t you?” She smiles back and bends to pick up another ball.

  “No, I think you have a very good technique.” He addresses his ball with his 1 iron and takes a careful back swing and hits a low, straight shot that is still in the air when it flies past the 200 yard marker.

  She watches the flight of his ball before turning back to her own tee. He waits for her to hit again.

  “I didn’t know it was Ladies’ Day. Do you have any sense of when I’m likely to get on the course? How late is it when everyone is out?” he asks her.

  “Maggie and I are in the last group, and we’re scheduled for 11:12, about twenty more minutes. I think that’s it, and then they let the men go. You don’t normally play here?” She leans on her club.

  “No, I’m from out of town, I’m going to attend the Solheim Cup, and I want to play some of the local courses. I’m from Oregon.”

  “Oregon is such a beautiful state. I was there on vacation once.” She seems in the mood to talk.

  “My business is in the Portland area, but I have a cottage at the beach and a cabin near Mt. Hood,” he offers, implying success.

  “Well, enjoy your stay here.” Unimpressed, she turns back to her tee.

  David wants to pursue the conversation further, he has a feeling about this woman; but his conversational skills seem to have abandoned him. He drops his iron in his bag and leaves for the putting green.

  He’s been putting for several minutes when the two women come to the practice green to putt. It is almost eleven, and he is running out of time. He putts in their direction, they are laughing and chatting and seem to be having a good time.

  He can’t find a reason to speak to this woman again; finally he just offers his name, one he is comfortable with. “I’d like to introduce myself. I’m Steven Johnson.”

  She seems a little startled, but his hand is held out and she answers, “I’m Agnes Dell.” She takes his hand and turns to her friend. “And this is Maggie Baker. Mr. Johnson is from Portland, Maggie.”

  They all smile at each other, but the conversation comes to a halt.

  “I’m pleased to meet you both.” He has to say something. “It looks like you two are the only women left to tee off.” The driving range and putting green are filling up with male golfers.

  “Maggie, he’s right. We’re going to play alone again this week.” She turns back to him. “The last group goes with the remainder, sometimes it’s three or, like today, only two. If there’s only one, they send her out with the next to the last group. It makes for five and that usually upsets the men who follow.

  “Well, it was nice to meet you,” adds Agnes. “Come on, Maggie, let’s go check in and get our cart. Goodbye, Mr. Johnson.” And the two women walk off the green.

  

  As they emerge from the pro shop the starter is calling Dell and Baker. They are attaching their bags to the cart.

  “Agnes, ask him if he wants to play with us. Go ahead! At least we’ll have someone to talk to.” Maggie is pushing her friend in the middle of the back.

  “No.” Agnes frowns. “We don’t even know him.”

  “Oh, come on, he’s from out of town. What can it hurt? We can flirt with him all day and have some fun.” They get in the cart and pull away from the clubhouse.

  Agnes won’t give in.

  “Stop the cart!” Maggie almost shouts. She jumps from the cart and quickly walks over to the putting green.

  “Maggie, don’t,” Agnes calls, but Maggie walks right up to him, skipping over putted balls that cross her path.

  “Mr. Johnson, Agnes and I are wondering if you would like to join us.”

  David, startled, looks up. He doesn’t say anything for a moment. “Yes, yes I would.” He smiles at her. “Just let me check in and run to my car for a moment. I left one of my wedges there.”

  “Great! We’ll meet you on the tee.” Maggie turns and is practically skipping as she approaches her friend. She has a big “cat ate the mouse” smile on her face.

  David walks quickly to the clubhouse, pays his fees, including a cart fee and drives to the Navigator, not just to get his wedge, but also the small bottle of sedatives from his briefcase in the spare tire compartment.

  The women are already teeing off, and to his surprise, they are playing from the shortest men’s tee.

  Agnes chides her friend, “Why don’t you just ride with him? Honestly, Maggie you go too far sometimes!”

  “Oh, don’t be so married.” Maggie waves at David, then catches Agnes’ grimace.

  They are on the 8th hole before David learns from the conversation that Agnes is married. She has three children and is in constant cell phone contact with them and her husband. David abandons any idea of making her his tenth hole.

  He turns his attention to Maggie Baker. He doesn’t like her; she is intrusive and rather ridiculous. She is much more forward than any of the other women he’s chosen. She’s spontaneous and unpredictable, and he hates that she teases him. He feels scattered around her, not in control.

  At the 12th hole, she starts taking clubs from her bag and rides with him to her ball when it is in the same direction as his. He just can’t connect, but the Solheim Cup will start soon and he must find his ball for the tenth hole.

  “So did you and Agnes come to the course together?” His tone is matter of fact.

  “No,” Maggie answers. “We always just meet here. Agnes and Bob are members, and I play as a guest. I had to give up my membership after my divorce.”

  “I’m divorced too,” David says. “How long have you been on your own?”

  “Two years. Since June of 2011. How about you?”

  “About the same. We just finally gave up after eight years of turmoil. Do you have children?”

  “I have a son who’s thirteen, but he lives with his dad. He made that choice when he was eleven. I get him twice a month for the weekend. He’s a great kid. Do you have children?”

  “No, my wife couldn’t.” David pulls the cart up to her ball. She jumps out, looks to the green and
decides she doesn’t have the right club.

  “I need a 4 iron and I brought my 5, can I choke down on yours?” She looks up from the ball.

  David hesitates a moment, but he can’t make an exception. “No,” he says with finality. “I don’t let anyone use my equipment.”

  “Oh.” Maggie is surprised. “Okay.” She addresses the ball with her five, hits it crisply but it comes up short of the green.

  She doesn’t say anything and David knows she is vexed, but letting someone use his club will spoil his round. She is chatty as ever by the time they reach the 15th tee. He feels compelled to ask her to play golf with him another day that week. He wants to play a round at Parker Golf Club on Friday and decides if she agrees to join him, he will play the tenth hole of the match then.

  “I can play in the afternoon, but the morning is booked. Parker is a nice golf course; I’ve played there many times. I can meet you around one-thirty. Oh! That’s the first day of the Solheim Cup!” Maggie waits for David to respond.

  “I’m only planning to go to the tournament on the weekend, so Friday will be fine. One-thirty works well for me also. Let’s plan on it! We can exchange numbers when we get to the clubhouse.” He is dubious about this choice. He also cannot shake a foreboding premonition that has been haunting him since he arrived in Parker. He hopes these feelings won’t cause him to make a mistake.

  Maggie seems happy. “It’s a date!” She goes back to riding with Agnes for the remainder of the round. When they reach the clubhouse, he drives his cart to the Navigator to unload his equipment.

  Moments later, the two women drive up. “Hey, Steve, did you forget about Friday?” Maggie hands him her business card.

  David is sitting on the back end of the car; fortunately it blocks their view of his license plate. He throws up his arms. “I’m sorry, I completely forgot!” He takes the card from Maggie and says, “I’m afraid my cell phone is acting up, so I’ll give you a call from the hotel this evening.”

  On the way back to his hotel, David works on his course management and how he will play the 14th hole of Colorado Golf Club, but he’s still not convinced Maggie is an adequate tenth hole. He decides to go prepared to play, if it feels right. If not, he will have to accept a change in plans.

  Chapter 61

  David is waiting on the putting green when Maggie Baker arrives at Parker Golf Club. He’s still uncertain and feels as if he’s playing in the fog. After greeting each other, they go inside to check in. David notices an FBI flyer on the front of the counter and hides it with his body.

  Had he paid attention to it he would have seen that it has been updated with two extra lines of information. “Suspect has been known to use the name Steven Johnson” and “Suspect may be driving a dark green Lincoln Navigator with tinted windows.”

  He pays the fee for a cart and two players, and they drive toward the first tee. Maggie, who is as high-spirited as ever, wants a beer. They stop at the canteen on the way to the first tee.

  They are paired with a married couple and after exchanging greetings they all tee off. When the canteen cart comes by on the fourth hole, David buys them each a second beer and while she is teeing off, he adds the first dose of sedative.

  He continues drugging her beers throughout the round with regular stops at the canteen cart. Her manner and attitude change as the round progresses, and by the 14th hole he is satisfied that he is ready to play.

  “When we finish, why don’t we go for dinner somewhere?” David asks, but Maggie is not quite alert.

  “I’m not very hungry,” she slurs.

  At this point, David decides to scale down on the sedative. “Well, maybe we can just have something light, or do you have plans?” He must keep her engaged.

  “No, only a quiet evening at home. I’m really tired.” She is getting a little too relaxed. “Sure, some dinner would be nice, just something casual; these are the only clothes I have with me.”

  He pulls up to her ball on the fairway and she steps from the cart. She is having trouble concentrating.

  “Looks like about a 4 iron to me,” David offers.

  She takes the iron and hits a straight shot that hooks off to the left side of the green. They drive on to his ball; his second shot, a 9 iron, lands behind the flag and draws back toward the pin.

  By the 17th hole Maggie is more alert. They talk about her job, her divorce and her son. They talk about life in Parker which she thinks it’s too conservative.

  He buys one more can of beer for each of them, spikes hers lightly while she tees off on the 18th hole. She keeps apologizing for not playing well. He makes light of it.

  “If you play perfectly every time, you’d be on the LPGA and we’d have missed this chance to play together.”

  “That’s nice of you to say, but I’m not myself today. I think we should skip dinner, and I’ll go home.” She looks a little peaked.

  “You probably just need to get some food in your stomach. Why don’t we have something to eat at the clubhouse and if you’re not feeling any better, I’ll drive you home.”

  “Maybe,” Maggie answers. She makes a double bogey on the last hole.

  They reach the clubhouse and he drives to the Navigator, stows his clubs, changes his shoes, puts the briefcase in the back basket of the cart and drives her to her car. She simply isn’t responding the way he intended.

  He unloads her equipment into her trunk and she changes her shoes. “Look Steven, I just don’t feel well, I’m going to go on home.”

  “Oh, but what about dinner?” He tries to sound needy.

  “No, I can’t.” She moves to the driver’s door.

  “Are you sure you’re well enough to drive? Why don’t I take you home?”

  “No, then I’d have to come back for my car and I don’t have a ride. I’ll be fine, it isn’t far.”

  “Well, if it isn’t far, I’ll drive you home, and I can take a cab back here.”

  She gives him a cloudy “I don’t care look” and says, “All right. I really don’t feel like driving.”

  Chapter 62

  Lou Schein.” He rolls over and turns on a lamp as he answers the phone. “What? They did? When? No? Coming from the bar? Illinois plates? Where is it? See that nobody touches it. Get Nancy and ask her to call the CSU and let’s get some of our guys out there before anyone screws with it!”

  He’s on his feet dialing Roger Payne.

  “Get everybody up. We’ve got a break! Someone coming out of the bar of the Parker Golf Club spotted the green Navigator and called the police. Yes! Now! I want to be on the road in twenty minutes.” He snaps his phone shut, reaches for his clothing and quickly dresses. “I want the course manager there when we arrive. I want a name; I want to know who he played with, when they finished and where the hell he is!”

  Moments later Roger and Lou are in the car, flashers blinking, speeding toward Parker Golf Club. Agents Phillips and Gibson are directly behind them. Both vehicles are speeding through the quiet streets of Parker, Colorado.

  “We’ve got him, Roger,” Lou repeats, as he rubs his hands together, “We’ve got him.”

  The team spent the day at Colorado Golf Club, not attending the Solheim Cup, but rather canvassing the area, looking for the suspect. They showed their flyers to anyone who would take note, and they paid special attention to tall men wearing sunglasses and caps. There were a lot of those, and they talked to a few, but at the end of the day, returned to the hotel with nothing more than sunburn.

  It takes almost forty minutes to reach the golf course. On the way, Lou alerts all law enforcement agencies in the area and the FBI office in Denver.

  The dark green Navigator is sitting alone at one end of the parking lot.

  It has Illinois plates, just as the officer had said. It is locked. The Parker PD has a fleet of patrol cars and officers on the site. Thankfully not one of them is closer than twenty feet to the vehicle.

  Lou introduces himself and his team to the officer in charge,
Dale Michaels, then asks if one of his officers can slim jim the door. “But use gloves!” yells Lou. He turns to Michaels. “You’ve checked everyone still in the bar?”

  “Yes, sir, everyone is accounted for. It does not belong to anyone in the bar.”

  “Where’s the club manager? We need to see the starter’s sheets. Can you get us into the clubhouse?” Lou is pacing and impatient.

  “The bartender can get you into the clubhouse, sir, but he doesn’t know where anything is. The manager is on his way, but it’ll be a few more minutes until he arrives.” Michaels adjusts his belt.

  Lou Schein turns. “Phillips, you and Gibson take the clubhouse. Find the starter’s sheets. We’ve got to know who played with this guy. If it’s a woman, he’s sure to be with her.”

  An officer interrupts to tell Lou they have the Navigator’s door open.

  Lou, almost running, meets Roger at the vehicle. After putting on his gloves, Agent Payne pulls the front passenger door open. The interior of the car lights and they can see what is inside.

  They perform a cursory search before the CSU team arrives. They find a set of golf clubs and shoes, a jacket, cap with the Titleist logo, maps and miscellaneous papers and brochures. Everything is neatly packed. They look under the seats, in the glove box and anywhere else they think they might find evidence. The registration tells them what they’ve wanted to know for months.

  The match play killer is David Steadman from Chicago, Illinois.

  Agent Schein motions to Officer Michaels and hands him the registration. “I want an APB on this man, now. Put it on every available channel.”

  “Yes, sir. Right away!”

  The agents open the liftgate, Schein picks up the golf shoes; they are cold and dirty. It is apparent they’d been worn that day and sitting for several hours. He walks back toward Officer Michaels’ vehicle. Michaels has just finished sending out the APB and is writing in his report log.