Easy Shot

by Smith, Dean Wesley

  Craig pulled her close and kissed her hard. Then he pulled back and smiled. “Lots of fun.”

  “Worth all these problems?”

  He pretended to be serious. “Sex with you is never a problem and always worth it.”

  “Ahh, the right thing for a husband to say,” she said, kissing him again. “The exact right thing.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Saturday, April 8th

  8:04 a.m.

  AT SLIGHTLY AFTER eight in the morning, the desert sun was still a good hour from completely taking the chill off the morning air. Craig hadn’t bothered to grab a jacket when he left the room for breakfast, but after walking from the clubhouse to the cart area, he wished he had. He was only wearing golf slacks and a short-sleeved shirt. He knew that by noon he was going to be too warm, but right now he was darned cold.

  No doubt Bonnie was as well. She had on a pair of tight white shorts and a thin, see-through blouse with a white halter-top underneath. It was an outfit that was sure to drive the Senator to distraction by the time the round was over. Watching that wonderful body in those tight shorts wasn’t going to exactly help keep Craig’s mind on the game either.

  Right now, because of the cold, Bonnie’s nipples were clearly visible as sharp bumps standing out against the halter-top and blouse. She had her arms crossed under her breasts for warmth, not covering anything.

  About a hundred identical golf carts were all lined two abreast along a wide area of concrete to one side of the clubhouse, ready to go for the tournament. Each pair of carts had white pieces of paper with different tee-times on the steering wheels.

  Craig and Bonnie moved down the line until they found their 8:46 time that Hagar had arranged last night with the tournament staff. Their golf clubs were already loaded into two carts, Bonnie’s in the cart with Senator Knight’s bag and Craig’s beside a large black bag that had the word Titleist covering one side. Clearly Craig was riding with the pro and Bonnie was riding with the Senator.

  Craig wasn’t too sure if he liked the idea of Bonnie being that close to the possible target of an assassin, but he couldn’t think of any logical reason to change the pairing.

  There were a lot of people coming and going from around the carts and bags, but there was no sign of the Senator or Maxwell or Hagar.

  “Damn, it’s cold out here,” Bonnie said, grabbing her visor from the front pocket of her bag.

  “Wait an hour and that will change,” Craig said.

  “I may be frozen stiff in an hour,” Bonnie said.

  “Parts of you already are stiff,” Craig said, glancing down at where her nipples were trying to break free from her blouse.

  She smacked his arm in mock anger, but he could tell she was enjoying the attention.

  “Excuse me, Detective Craig and Officer Stanley,” a man said, moving up beside them.

  Craig glanced up as a guy in blue slacks and white jacket approached. He was either FBI, one of Hagar’s men, or one of the golf pros. Craig would bet a month’s salary on FBI.

  “I’m Agent Howard,” the man said. “The Senator is on the driving range. He told me to tell you to bring both the carts.”

  “Thanks,” Craig said.

  “One more thing,” Agent Howard said, moving in so his voice could only be heard by Craig and Bonnie. “In the outside pocket of both your bags are loaded weapons. Detective Hagar wanted me to make sure you knew where they were.”

  Craig nodded and turned to his bag. He unzipped the outside pocket just enough to see the handle of the police special stuffed down in his rain gear. It was the exact same model as his gun back in Seattle.

  “Got it,” he said, zipping up the pocket and turning back to the agent.

  Bonnie looked up from her bag, a grim look on her face. “Should work fine if I have to use it.”

  “Let’s hope we don’t,” Agent Howard said.

  “Couldn’t agree more,” Craig said. “Thanks.”

  Agent Howard turned and moved away from them, walking down the row of carts as if he belonged here.

  “I wonder how many other FBI and Scottsdale police are around,” Bonnie said.

  “More than we’re going to spot,” Craig said, “if they are doing their job.”

  Craig moved over and sat down on the cold cart seat. “Follow me.”

  Bonnie dropped down behind the wheel of the other cart, then said, “Holy shit, that’s cold.”

  Craig laughed.

  “What’s so funny?” Bonnie asked, glaring at him. “I didn’t come to Arizona to freeze my ass off.”

  “Trust me,” Craig said, turning the cart out of line and starting toward the driving range. “You’ll be wishing for a cold seat in two hours.”

  He couldn’t hear Bonnie’s answer.

  The path to the driving range was at least four hundred yards of winding pavement that led up over the top of a rock bluff and down into a steep valley hidden from the clubhouse. The wind in his face was biting-cold, and he drove with only one hand, keeping the other under his leg for some warmth.

  As he cleared the top of the ridge, he was colder than he could remember being in a long, long time.

  The driving range spread out below him, filling a massive open area of green that sloped down the floor of the rock-sided valley. Colored flags were placed at different distances from the teeing area.

  Twenty or so people were scattered over the teeing area that looked like it could hold at least fifty people hitting balls at the same time. Each player had his or her own area marked by a metal stand to lean clubs against, a small rock, and a shining pile of red-striped golf balls. Craig loved the free driving-range balls when coming to the desert. Back in the Northwest, driving-range balls were normally sold by the bucket. Down here they just piled them up for every player to use as many as they wanted.

  Maxwell was sitting in a cart just off the path on the far side of the range and Hagar and two others were talking off to the right side.

  Craig waved at them and then looked around for the Senator. He was at the far left side of the range, his back to the hill and Maxwell. It was the easiest spot to guard in the entire area.

  Craig took the cart down the path, parking it directly behind the Senator. Bonnie pulled up behind him, clearly even colder than she had been back at the clubhouse. Her fingers looked white as she blew on them, and Craig could swear her teeth were chattering.

  “Are we having fun yet?” he asked, smiling at her.

  She only glared at him and moved around to get some clubs out of her bag.

  “Not yet, huh?” he said, laughing as he grabbed a few clubs and headed to a pile of balls. The Senator glanced up and said, “Good morning.”

  “Morning, sir,” Craig said.

  The Senator was wearing green Bermuda shorts and a Hawaiian shirt that would clash with anything. He had on white socks and black golf shoes. Anyone trying to take a shot at this guy would be laughing too hard to shoot straight.

  “Good morning, Senator,” Bonnie said, walking up and standing behind him. “You look colorful this morning.”

  The Senator laughed. “A natural politician. I knew I liked you for more than your fantastic looks.”

  Bonnie blushed. Craig could very seldom get that kind of reaction out of her, yet the Senator seemed to be able to do it at will.

  The Senator pointed to a man two spots over hitting balls with a fluid golf swing. “Craig, Bonnie, that is Danny Baines. From Sedona.”

  Danny turned and stepped toward them, his hand outstretched, a smile filling his face. Danny had to be all of twenty, if that. He had the kind of face that Craig figured women loved. Sort of a cross between Paul McCartney and Paul Newman. But there was something about him that bothered Craig almost instantly. And he wasn’t sure what it was.

  “Nice to meet you both,” the kid-pro said. “Looking forward to our round.”

  “Yeah,” Bonnie said. “Me too.”

  After she had shaken the kid’s hand, she turned and gave Crai
g the eyebrows-up, wide-eyed look. He wasn’t sure if that meant she thought the kid was hot, or if it meant she was feeling the same way he was. He’d ask her when he got a chance.

  Thirty minutes later, Craig rolled his drive off the first tee, the Senator hit his drive into a large pile of rocks to the left of the fairway, and Bonnie and the pro hit the fairway. It was a good indication of how the day would go.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Saturday, April 8th

  12:44 p.m.

  BONNIE FIGURED SHE had gotten the best deal, riding with the Senator. He was charming, laughed easily, and was determined to have fun, no matter how bad his golf game was. And it was bad, plain and simple.

  The first hole he had managed a nine from the rocks, and except for a bogey four on a short par three, that was his best score. The good thing was that he didn’t take much time over any single shot. He just walked up to it, took his stance and hit it, often sideways and never very far.

  The young pro was another matter. He was the silent type who had had it two under par by the end of the first nine, and took lots of time over each shot. However, he had taken so many fewer shots than the rest of them, it didn’t really slow them down at all.

  Also the kid hadn’t said much more than “Nice shot!” or “Your turn,” the entire morning. Bonnie hadn’t been able to figure out what bothered her about the kid, but one thing for sure, he had a beautiful golf swing.

  The Senator had Bonnie so relaxed with his jokes and friendly patter that by the second hole, even with the distraction of always looking around, always being aware of any danger, she had played well.

  Far better than Craig had, that was for sure.

  The temperature had finally warmed up enough to be comfortable by the third hole, and by the time they had reached the tenth hole it was warm. By the scenic sixteenth hole tee box on the back nine, it was just plain hot.

  The sixteenth was a fairly long par three, with the tee boxes for the hole carved out of the side of a large hill, and the green a good hundred feet below them across a deep rock canyon. The group in front of them was still on the green, so Bonnie climbed up the dirt and wood steps to get on the highest tee box. Maxwell and another FBI agent were already up there, off to one side, scanning the surrounding area.

  The light wind blew at her blouse and hair, cooling her as she looked around. The view was just spectacular. Where she stood was by far the highest place on the golf course, and from there she could see out over Scottsdale and Phoenix.

  “Wow,” Senator Knight said, moving up to stand beside her. “This is a sight.”

  “I didn’t know Senators were prone to understatement,” Bonnie said.

  The Senator laughed. “The spectacular view took my words away.”

  “That’s better,” Bonnie said, smiling at him.

  Below them the cart path wound back and forth, switchback after switchback, down the almost cliff-steep side of the mountain between the tee box and the green.

  And there were dirt footpaths in the rocks and scrub brush leading down into the canyon where golfers had climbed down to search for balls. If she hit one down in there, she wasn’t going down looking for it, that was for sure. Too many snake-warning signs around this course for her tastes. Since she saw the first sign back on the fifth hole, she hadn’t gotten off the cart path or fairway without a club in her hand.

  Two of Hagar’s men stood on the hill on the far side of the hole, waiting. She could imagine how boring the day had been for them. Climbing around in the rocks and desert, watching four people play golf.

  Thank heavens that was all that had happened so far.

  Craig moved up beside her and whispered in her ear. “What do you say we come back up here tonight?”

  “And do what?” she whispered back, teasing him.

  “An encore performance,” he said, just loud enough for her to hear.

  “Sex on the top of a mountain,” she whispered. “I like that idea. As long as you carry me up here.”

  Craig laughed and said loud enough for the Senator to hear. “It might just be worth it.”

  The Senator gave her a raised-eyebrow look and Bonnie could feel herself blush again.

  Then he said, smiling at her, “Green’s open.”

  What seemed like an outrageous distance below her the foursome in front of them cleared the green and Danny moved to the tee.

  His shot sailed into the air and then seemed to drop forever. At first she thought it was going to be so far over the green that it might land on one of Hagar’s men on the far hillside. But finally the ball dropped about twenty paces short of the pin, bounced once and stopped. In all the years she had played golf, she had never been on a hole like this.

  She hit two balls into the canyon before she declared she was done and was going to drop a ball up by the green. This might be the most spectacular vista in the desert, but it was also one impossible golf hole.

  Craig managed to hit one over the canyon, landing it on the right of the green and they all cheered him like he’d just hit a home run. As far as Bonnie was concerned, that was his best shot of the day.

  Even Maxwell applauded.

  The Senator rolled a shot off the end of the tee box. They all watched as the ball bounced, clattered, and fell like a pinball gone crazy down the rocky slope. It bounced twice on the cart path, once about twenty feet below the tee box, and a second time somewhere even with the green about three switchbacks down. The ball finally disappeared into the canyon in front of the green.

  The Senator glanced over at Danny. “I think that ball went four hundred yards at least, if you count every bounce.”

  Danny nodded. “Thank your lucky stars it didn’t get stuck somewhere on that cliff. You would have had to try to hit it.”

  “Not in this lifetime,” the Senator said, glancing down the steep, rocky slope.

  The Senator tried one more shot—this time flying his ball into the canyon—and decided Bonnie’s idea of dropping one on the other side was the best policy. Everyone agreed.

  Bonnie climbed into the cart beside the Senator and stared at the sign twenty feet in front of them.

  WARNING!

  STEEP DOWNGRADE.

  SLOW!

  USE BRAKES!

  Thank heavens the Senator took the warning to heart. The hole was no more than one hundred and seventy yards as the crow flies, but the cart path down that cliff face had to be five times that long. And very, very narrow and steep. She was sweating more from the fear than the heat by the time they reached the flat bridge over the canyon in front of the green.

  The Senator’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel.

  It was a golf hole, and a golf cart ride she would never forget.

  They made it the rest of the way through the round without problems, and the Senator agreed to meet them in the bar for drinks after a shower and change of clothes.

  “You don’t mind, do you Senator,” Craig asked, “if we play with you again tomorrow?”

  Hagar and Maxwell were both standing close by and both nodded their agreement with the idea.

  “Sounds fine with me,” the Senator said. “As long as Bonnie wears those white shorts again.”

  For the fifth or sixth time, Bonnie blushed. Why he could do that to her, she didn’t know.

  “She has another pair that is even tighter,” Craig said, winking at the Senator.

  Bonnie punched him in the arm as the Senator laughed. She did have a tighter pair, and now she planned on wearing them for sure.

  “Then I look forward to the round,” the Senator said. “I’ll meet you in the bar in an hour.”

  Bonnie glanced at her watch. It was a little after two in the afternoon. A shower sounded perfect to help cool down and rinse off a layer of suntan lotion.

  “Sounds great,” Craig said.

  “Drinks and dinner are on me,” the Senator said. “For all of you. No arguments.” He glanced at Maxwell and Hagar, who both nodded, then at Bonnie.

/>   “It sounds like a wonderful time,” she said.

  “Good. An hour then.” He turned and headed up into the hotel.

  Maxwell moved with him and Bonnie had no doubt there were other FBI agents working ahead of the Senator. She really liked the guy, even though he made her blush with the slightest look. She was glad they were doing everything in their power to make sure nothing happened to him.

  So far all was well. But there was still the rest of the afternoon and tonight.

  And all of tomorrow.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Saturday, April 8th

  9:07 p.m.

  AFTER A QUICK shower in the strange waterfall tub, Craig had ended up having two rum and cokes in the bar. Those drinks, combined with a lot of laugher and jokes, had stretched over two hours. It had been almost six by the time they finally went into the restaurant for dinner, and Craig had been famished.

  Bonnie had only had one drink and a lot of water and she whispered to him as they walked into the restaurant that she was so hungry, she was about to eat the bar napkins.

  Parsons, Hagar and Maxwell had joined them in the bar. Parsons said he didn’t drink and Hagar and Maxwell had both stuck to Diet Cokes since they were on duty. Craig could see a few other detectives and agents stationed around the bar and restaurant.

  The food had turned out to be even better than Craig would have expected, and his expectations were high in this beautiful resort. He had had a perfectly cooked New York steak, while Bonnie had lamb.

  The food was so good, Craig just didn’t want to stop eating.

  Finally, at nine the Senator excused himself, saying it was time to get back to his room, do a little work, and get some sleep, since their tee time in the morning was 8:15.

  Maxwell and Hagar left the table with the Senator and Parsons, leaving only Craig and Bonnie. As she pushed away the last few bites of her raspberry-covered cheesecake she moaned.

  “Full?”

  “Stuffed like a turkey at Thanksgiving,” she said, sipping on her coffee.