“How are things with Roz? I bet you miss her.”
DeeDee had been surprised when her younger sister, thirty-nine-year-old Roz, had moved to Whistler with her boyfriend Clark. Clark, an engineer, was the project manager for a new ski lift which was being built at Whistler. Since the Whistler Blackcomb ski resort had been named as the best ski resort in North America for the last three years, it was badly needed. It was likely Roz and Clark would be there for at least six months, if not longer.
“Sure, I miss her,” DeeDee said, “but we talk all the time, and I’m really happy for her. Clark’s a great guy and from what she’s said on the phone, it sounds like she made the right decision.” DeeDee hesitated before continuing. “I’ll be able to find out more when I see her. I have a feeling Roz isn’t telling me everything.”
DeeDee was secretly worried about Roz, but she didn’t want to voice her fears to Tammy. She just had a feeling there was something up with Roz, and she was determined to find out what it was on this trip.
“That’s good,” Tammy said, eyeing her friend with concern. DeeDee looked up at Tammy and realized that even though the two women had not been friends for very long, Tammy probably knew that DeeDee wasn’t telling her the whole story. DeeDee was grateful Tammy respected her enough not to pursue the matter.
Tammy leaned across the table and squeezed DeeDee’s hand. “You know I’m here any time you want to talk. Just enjoy the next few days and get some R&R. Drop by with Balto when you guys get back and let me know how it went. By the way, are you going to Leo’s ‘Ice Cream Dream’ next week?”
DeeDee brightened up. “Of course! Leo made me promise not to miss it. No one in their right mind would pass on a free gelato from DaVinci’s, the best ice cream parlor on the island.”
“Best in the world, according to Leo,” Tammy said. “He does this special party for his customers every year at the end of the summer season, before closing his shop for a few weeks. Then he’s off to Italy for his annual trip to see his mother. Leo’s old, so his mother must be ancient.” Tammy sighed, and her face turned serious. “It’s hard to think that one of these years he won’t have a mother to go back to.”
DeeDee felt her heart fill with affection for the old Italian man loved by everyone in the small town she now called home. She was so happy to have met many of the local island residents, and grateful for how they had welcomed her into their community. She stood up, smoothed her skirt, and smiled at her friend. “I better get home and pack a few things for the trip. See you when I get back.” She reached in her purse for her wallet, but Tammy waved her away.
“This one’s on me. See you and Balto next week at DaVinci’s. Have a great time. And I want ALL the details when you get back,” she said grinning.
“Okay, I promise,” DeeDee said as she started to make her way out. “Although I don’t think there will be much to report. After all, there isn’t much that could happen on a quiet weekend trip to Whistler.”
*****
Balto was waiting on the front porch for DeeDee when she arrived home. He ran down the steps to meet her as she got out of her car, his leash in his mouth.
DeeDee laughed, closed the car door, and bent down to rub his black and white furry coat. “All right, Balto. We’ll go out soon. I just need to organize a few things, and then we can have a nice evening together. How about a walk and then dinner? But it needs to be an early night, since we’re going away tomorrow morning.”
Balto moved his head in what may have been a nod, but DeeDee suspected it was Balto’s version of a doggy shrug.
DeeDee opened the mailbox and took out the mail. When she was back inside the house she put the mail and her car keys on the table in the hallway. She noticed that the light was flashing on her answering machine, but she decided to let it go. I’m on vacation, she thought to herself. Work can wait for a few days.
DeeDee made her way upstairs to her bedroom and stared at the mountain of clothes on the bed. She’d started pulling things out of the closet earlier, trying to decide what to take on the trip, but she got overwhelmed and decided instead to go out and run some errands.
Hmm, big mistake, DeeDee, she said to herself, wishing she’d finished the task before she’d left.
Balto padded into the bedroom and sat down in his dog bed in the corner, watching her sort through the pile of clothes.
“Shall I take this one, Balto? Do you think Jake would like it?” She held up a pretty floral halter dress. Roz had told her the weather would be warm in the daytime, but she’d probably need a sweater or jacket for the evening.
Balto chewed loudly on his toy rabbit, while DeeDee made a pile out of tops, sweaters, a pair of shorts, some pants, and several dresses that she wanted to take to Whistler. When she wasn’t sure about an item, she added it to the pile anyway.
“I guess I better take some clothes for walking around the village and boots in case we take a hike in the mountains. I’ll also need some sandals for daytime and heels for evening.” It occurred to her that she hadn’t even started packing her cosmetics and beauty accessories. DeeDee sighed, walked over to the closet, and hauled out her largest suitcase.
CHAPTER 2
Derek Adams stomped into his small office at the back of the golf pro shop and slammed the door behind him. He stood for several moments trying to compose himself, his heart racing. His chin was jutting out and his face was twisted in a grimace. In other circumstances, he looked a lot more attractive. Cropped, light brown hair framed his handsome thirty-two-year-old tanned face, and with his height and athletic build it was no surprise that he was popular with the ladies at the golf club. While women were impressed with his good looks, the fact that he was a scratch golfer was more impressive to the men who played with him.
“Son of a gun,” he blurted out in anger, unable to stop himself from raising his clenched fist and jabbing a golf bag standing in the corner with a right hook. The bag wobbled, and he gave it one more powerful punch for a knockout, sending it tumbling out into the center of the room.
“Ouch,” he said through gritted teeth, shaking his sore hand and stretching his fingers in and out several times. If I wasn’t at work right now at the Island View Golf Club, it would be Johnny Roberts sprawled at my feet. Nothing would give me more pleasure than to break a couple of my fingers on that man’s smug face. A few smashed teeth would mess up Johnny’s good looks, and it might keep him out of the clubhouse for a while. But as the club’s resident professional, unless Derek wanted to lose his job, he knew Johnny Roberts was off-limits. Johnny was a wealthy member of the club with friends on the Board of Directors, and Derek was just one of the hired help. Derek had already crossed the line with Johnny, and might have some explaining to do if Johnny complained to management about the way Derek had spoken to him during an argument they’d just had in the men’s locker room.
If I could get my hands on that Rolex watch of Johnny’s, I’ve got several putters I’d like to use to smash it. The thought made him smile, but everyone knew that Johnny never took that watch off. He’d have to think of something else. A firm knock on the door interrupted Derek’s next idea, which was throwing a can of red paint on Johnny’s big flashy Mercedes Benz.
The door opened and Ron, one of the older and probably the most respected caddie at the club, entered without waiting for Derek’s permission. Derek was a more senior member of the golf staff than Ron, but Ron’s expression told him it would be unwise to try and pull rank on him at a time like this.
The stony-faced older man closed the door, and folded his arms. If he wondered why a golf bag was lying helter-skelter on the floor in the middle of the room, he made no comment about it.
“Sit down, Derek,” Ron said, pointing at a chair. Derek obeyed, while Ron remained standing. His eyes bored into Derek’s for several long moments before he continued, “Don’t be a fool, Derek. You’re young and hot-headed. Johnny Roberts is goading you on and playing you like a violin. He’s harmless. Just because he’s had
a good round or two, it’s not a reflection on your golfing abilities. Why are you getting all worked up about it?”
Derek shook his head. He was still angry, but Ron wouldn’t understand. “I know I shouldn’t have lost my temper in the locker room. Every time Johnny has a good round he acts and talks like he’s Arnold Palmer and Jack Nicklaus rolled into one. It’s about time the guy grew up.”
Ron shook his head. “I think you’re mistaken. No one except you seems too worried when Johnny gets a birdie. The members enjoy the game for what it is. It’s fun and it’s social. I see everything that goes on in this club, and Johnny’s a pretty popular guy. So, what’s your problem?”
It wasn’t just a birdie here and there. The issue was far worse than that. Johnny Roberts was playing better golf than Derek, and today wasn’t the first time. Johnny had consistently beat him in every tournament they’d both entered during the last few months. That wasn’t how it was supposed to be. The golf pro was supposed to be the best golfer at the club. Derek was sure there was an unwritten law somewhere to that effect. Derek probably could have accepted it if Johnny hadn’t constantly bragged about his wins and made the most of rubbing Derek’s nose in the score every time he defeated him. It was humiliating, and he was worried the club members might decide it was time to get a younger pro, one that could beat every member in the club, including Johnny.
Johnny had practically said as much during their argument. His words still rang in Derek’s mind, “If you don’t like getting beat, maybe it’s time for you to get a new job, kiddo.”
From Derek’s perspective, getting fired from a role that was beneath him in the first place was about as bad as it could get. There was a time when he’d been destined for great things in the golf world. Ten years earlier, as a top-ranked amateur player in his senior year of college, he would have been headed for the PGA Tour if it hadn’t been for the automobile accident. And now some fifty-year-old man with no hair and a charmed life was showing him up.
“I didn’t like his attitude,” Derek muttered. “He beat me again today, and I thought he was trying to undermine my position as the club pro. Then he had the nerve to bet he could do it again at our tournament in Whistler.”
“So, you called him Noodlehead, which just happens to be similar to the brand name of a well-known golf ball?” Ron chuckled. “That’s not very professional at all, Derek. You’re acting like a sulky teenager. You better hope he saw the funny side of your remark.”
“Yeah,” Derek smirked. “I guess.” Derek rubbed his neck and tried to get comfortable in the chair. His fit-looking exterior gave away no clues as to his underlying medical problems. The nagging ache in his back was a constant reminder of the terrible traffic accident he’d been involved in, and he had to live with the legacy of that accident every day of his life. The doctors said he was lucky not to have been permanently paralyzed, however, pioneering surgery and several metal pins in his spine had taken care of that. After he spent six months in the hospital followed by a long period of rehabilitation, he still had to exercise daily and have regular physical therapy to keep from being in pain.
On one hand, it was a good thing the accident had happened when it did, since he was a senior near graduation and his golf scholarship had paid for his education. What wasn’t so good was that he would never be able to play golf on the pro circuit.
Ron continued, “Maybe you should have thought about it before you made some backhanded innuendos about Johnny fiddling with his handicap. The only thing that accomplished was to make you look like a sore loser.”
Derek said nothing, and shook his head.
“Look, I know you’ve had a tough time recently,” Ron said, “but everyone thinks you’re doing a great job here. The members admire you and respect you for what you’ve achieved. What you went through took a lot of guts, just don’t blow it, okay?”
Derek nodded. “It took me years to get back to where I am today, Ron. I’m not going to mess it up, I swear.”
After many months in recovery, Derek had been able to get a job as a golf pro at a small golf course in Seattle. Over the years, he’d worked as hard on networking as he had on his game, and he’d developed a reputation as a top-notch pro and a great coach. The same tenacity that he showed in recovering from his injuries paid off for the change of direction in his career, enabling him to get his current job as the club pro at the Island View Golf Club. It was a prestigious club, and he enjoyed the status that came with working there.
It was a miracle he could even walk, never mind play golf at the pro level. He had defied everyone who said that he’d never swing a club again. Derek had been the master of his own destiny. He’d thought about the accident a million times over the years, and would forever regret his mistake. He knew at the time he shouldn’t have gotten into the car with his roommate who had been drinking beer down at Kite’s, the local bar located just off campus in Aggieville. All it took was one stupid mistake, and it had changed his life forever. Now he had to try and fix things the best he could.
Derek stood up and reached out to shake Ron’s hand. “Thanks for the pep talk, Ron. I appreciate it.”
The firm handshake caused Derek to wince, his hand still smarting from the punch to the golf bag. Ron left the office with a curt nod, leaving Derek alone with his thoughts.
There was no way Derek was going to let this go, despite his conversation with Ron. Derek knew he was a very good golfer, but he wanted to be the best player at the Island View Golf Club, and right now Johnny Roberts was standing in the way of his goal. There was only one way to regain his rightful position, and that was to knock Johnny off the top spot by doing whatever it took to make that happen.
He knew slashing the guy’s tires or pouring paint on his car wasn’t going to achieve anything. While Ron had been talking to him, Derek had been formulating a more sinister plan. The way he saw it, if Johnny Roberts wasn’t around, all of his troubles would go away. Maybe something should happen to Johnny on the Whistler trip. Who knew, maybe it would be his last game of golf, ever. You just never know what the future might hold.
“See ya later, Noodlehead,” he muttered as laughed to himself. He turned out the lights and headed for the driving range.
CHAPTER 3
Jake Rodgers eyed the two suitcases standing in the hallway with suspicion. There was a hard-cased black one on wheels, and a smaller gray leather valise. He scratched his head and looked up at DeeDee, who was holding her breath, waiting for him to say something. Jake’s hair was still wet from his morning swim in the Sound. His face softened, and his eyes danced.
“I think there’s something you’re not telling me, DeeDee. Are you not planning on coming back?” His face broke into a grin.
DeeDee smiled. She was glad Jake wasn’t going to make a fuss about her bringing so much luggage for their short trip. It had been a constant bone of contention with her ex-husband, Lyle, that DeeDee seemed to find it impossible to travel light. Jake was far more easy-going than Lyle, and that was one of the many things she liked about him. Although she felt bad about making comparisons between the two men, sometimes she couldn’t help it.
DeeDee playfully patted Jake’s arm. He wore jeans and a button-down shirt. His handsome face was tanned from the many hours he’d spent that summer swimming in Puget Sound every morning and gardening in the evenings. She’d recently noticed a wetsuit on his porch and wondered if he continued to swim daily all through the winter. There was still a lot about Jake she didn’t know, but she was looking forward to finding out.
“I like to travel prepared,” DeeDee said, “and so does Balto.”
“So I see. Do you have your passport?”
DeeDee nodded and patted her cross-body purse while Balto pawed the floor. He was ready to go.
“Let’s hit the road then,” Jake said, lifting the black suitcase with ease, not realizing DeeDee had struggled for five minutes to get it downstairs.
DeeDee locked the door while Jake loaded the lugg
age into the trunk of her SUV. There was also various dog paraphernalia for Balto, including a travel kennel and bed for him to sleep on. Jake’s bag went in last, just a small canvas duffel bag. She wondered if it was because of his years serving in the Marines that he was able to keep the contents of his duffel bag down to a bare minimum.
“Is that it? Sure you haven’t forgotten anything? Last call for Whistler,” Jake said as the final item was crammed inside the car.
Deedee shook her head.
Jake laughed. “Good, because I don’t think we could get anything else in the car.”
He opened the passenger door for DeeDee before letting Balto jump in the back. It was a short drive to the Bainbridge Island ferry terminal where they would catch the next ferry to Seattle. Balto stood at attention in the back seat, and started to eagerly pant when the SUV stopped at the end of the line of cars waiting for the ferry.
“Yes, Balto,” DeeDee said, giving Jake a knowing glance. “We know how much you love the ferry ride, but you have to be a good boy, okay?”
Balto whined, but settled down while they waited for the cars and passengers to disembark from the incoming ferry, before the line they were in started to move. They were traveling after the early morning commuter rush for the thirty-five-minute crossing from Bainbridge Island to Seattle, so it didn’t take long to board.
“C’mon, Balto,” DeeDee said, when Jake had brought the SUV to a stop on the car deck. DeeDee held Balto’s leash while she, Jake, and Balto made their way up the steps to the open passenger deck on the top level of the boat.
It was a cloudy day, and rain was on its way, which was the usual weather pattern for Seattle. DeeDee shivered in her light sweater, regretting that she hadn’t brought her windbreaker with her. Jake put his arm around her shoulders, and she huddled into him for warmth as the ferry pulled away from the dock. DeeDee giggled when Balto did his usual trick of trying to nose through the railings to catch the spray from the water below.
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