Match Play (24 page)

David Steadman, Sylvania, Ohio

D
avid Steadman has been in the Sylvania, Ohio area for two weeks. He finds an abundance of public and semi-private golf courses and plays one every day since arriving.

On the tenth day he locates the ball for his eighth hole of the match
.

He is enjoying a room service breakfast on the balcony of his hotel. He is in a business suite on the fourth floor and likes how he can eat on the balcony without being disturbed. He will play golf again today. It will be a day of intense planning and finalizing his course management.

Her name is Marty Keeler. She lives on the north side of Sylvania, and he met her while hitting balls at the Sylvania Country Club where she is a member. They played a round of golf on three occasions and by the second round, he was certain of his game.

Marty is forty-three, divorced, and works as a realtor. She lives alone. At least no one else will get in the way.

She is an attractive brunette, petite, pleasant enough to be around, not chatty like Kate Stanley. Her golf game is good enough that he can tolerate being partners. The second time they played, David was so preoccupied with the preparation of the match that he didn’t play his best on the back nine.

After that round, he was invited to her home for the evening, an eighties tract house in a yuppie neighborhood where everyone keeps to themselves, she says.

Circumstances require he take his hat and sunglasses off. He wasn’t happy about it, but he has to act like a normal guest. She commented on how beautiful his hair is. She made dinner and they drank a bottle of wine. She admired his Rolex watch and everything else about him. At one point, sitting on the couch, she reached to touch his hair, and he became very uncomfortable.

He excused himself to go to the restroom and when he returned, he sat in a leather chair with room for one. He doesn’t want to offend at this point in the game, but he needs to discourage her provocative behavior. He tried to play his best role, the sophisticated traveler, just in town for business and a few rounds of golf.

When she inquired about his business, he vaguely said he didn’t want to spoil the evening talking about work. He did tell her where he is staying and further enticed her with the information that he would be in town for several days. Her attraction to him was obvious.

He made an excuse about an early meeting and left before anything else could transpire.

The plan for today is to meet her late afternoon to play a round of golf at Inverness. He is looking forward to it; he has enjoyed his time with her. The match is separate and distinct, and his affinity for her will change when the hole is being played. He is confident he can play the eighth hole of the match without incident, whenever it suits him.

It is quite late when they meet; he has been practicing and warming up for a couple of hours. She arrives in business attire, having spent the afternoon showing houses to a client. She waves and runs to the women’s locker room to change.

She putts a few times on the practice green and within moments they are called to the first tee. They are sent out with another couple and have little chance to talk until they are driving down the first fairway.

“Daniel, I’m really glad you could make it today. I’ve enjoyed our time together. How much longer do you think you’ll be here?”

“Perhaps another few days before I must get back to Portland.” He pulls up alongside her ball with the golf cart.

“Oh.” She steps from the cart and scopes the green over her ball while she tries to make her club selection. “You’re going to the Marathon Classic this week, except Friday, right?” She pulls a 3 iron from her bag and addresses the ball.

David is quiet. She hits a solid shot, but it is fading to the right as it nears the green, and in the end disappears into the rough. She sits down in the car after cursing under her breath.

“I really can’t change my plans. Too many people are depending on me. I have to leave by the weekend,” he says.

“I’ve got a good friend, Amy, and I’ve been telling her about you, and she is dying to meet you. She’s quite a good golfer, and I promised her the three of us could play a round together before you leave.” She is watching him as she talks. “Can we, do you think you’ll have another free afternoon? She and I could meet you here and then the three of us could…”

He interrupts her. “We’ve already made plans for Friday the 19th and that’s the only day I have free. I have to leave Sunday at the latest.” He doesn’t want her interfering with his plans or the course management. He can feel his anxiety rising.

“I know we planned to play at Whiteford, but how about we change courses, play here again, and Amy can join us? I know I can get a time for us. Please? I promised her, and I know she can be free that afternoon.”

David finds begging to be completely unattractive, plus he does not want to meet the friend. He frowns and has to keep his fists from balling.

“I want to play at Whiteford as we planned,” he insists. “We already have a tee time there, and it’s my last chance to play that course.” He is thinking of the match
,
the only thing that matters. The only thing that is important.

“Oh,” she says again. “Well…well, wait just a minute!”

He drives to his ball further down the fairway; it is only a wedge away from the green. He stops the cart to wait for their playing partners to hit, and while they wait, Marty dials her cell phone. He assumes she is calling her friend.

He watches both of the other players miss hitting their balls. It is going to be a long afternoon.

“Yes, hello? We have a tee time there on Friday the 19th for two players.” She is put on hold.

He drives on toward his ball.
Why is she calling the course, I haven’t changed my mind.

She is talking again when they stop, with complete disregard for his concentration.

“Yes, it’s under the name Keeler.” Pause. “Yes that’s right, two players.” Pause. “No, I don’t want to cancel. I know it’s late, but I was wondering if we can add another player. Oh, that’s wonderful! Thank you very much, we’ll see you on Friday. Yes, three at 2:46. Thank you so much!”

Marty is smiling when she sets the phone down. David is fuming. In fact, he has lost his concentration completely, and when he hits his ball it sails the green and lands in a bunker at the back. He slams his club into the bag and starts after the ball without saying a word, pressing his lips together in a thin line.

He made bogey. They are sitting on the second tee before she tries to speak to him.

“Daniel, I’m sorry if I upset you. Let’s just play and we’ll talk about Friday later.”

He doesn’t answer for quite some time. The eighth hole is in jeopardy. What is he to do?

“I wanted us to spend our last outing alone, together. I’m sure your friend is very nice, but I was hoping we could play and then have dinner together.”

She tries to appease him. “Well, we still have some time after the game. I promise to make it special.” She winks and smiles provocatively. “Come on Daniel, it’ll be fun. I promise.” She is trying to make eye contact.

“It isn’t what I want. I thought you were calling your friend to let her know we can’t make it.” He turns his hands over, indicating his concession. “Go ahead, tee off.”

After hitting her ball, she returns to the cart. “It’ll be fun. You’ll like Amy.”

David doesn’t answer. He stands behind the cart, selecting his club. He is thinking, trying to regroup.

He miss hits his driving iron, a rare occurrence. When he returns to the cart Marty is closely watching him.

“All right, we’ll play with your friend at Whiteford, and she might as well join us for dinner too.” He’s scratching his head.

Now it is Marty who is off balance. “If that’s what you want,” she concedes with a pout. “She may have plans though.”

They are driving down the second fairway, a par 5.

He tries to sound only marginally interested. “Why does she want to meet me? I’m leaving town soon.” He has questions now. He is determined to play the eighth hole no matter the risk.

“She wants to show off her golf game. I’ve told her how well you play.”

“We’ll make a day of it.” Now David is smiling. He’s made a decision. He feels compelled to punish Marty for pushing him to include this stranger, and now he will punish Amy for intruding.

They continue on to the third tee and during the drive, Marty calls Amy and makes the arrangements.

“So, she’ll join us for dinner?” David is looking forward to a delectable evening with the two women.

“Yes,” says Marty, and she’s quiet and sullen for the rest of the round.

Both are strategizing. Marty wants Amy to withdraw from the plans. David is reworking his course management. He has decided to play two par 4’s. By the end of the round, he is satisfied that he is in control again. They will be a difficult pair, but he is bored and the challenge will invigorate the match
.

Sylvania, Ohio
The Eighth Hole
and
Friday, July 19
The Ninth Hole

D
avid is
in a golf shop examining driving irons. The racks of clubs are as high as his head; the one irons and driving irons are on the same rack. He can’t seem to find what he wants and keeps walking around and around the rack touching various brands and styles.

He reaches for a club at eye level. When he grasps the blade to pull the club from the rack, his hand starts to bleed. The blade is razor sharp. He gasps a loud “ouch!” and drops the club. Blood drips onto his shirt and slacks then to the floor. He reaches for his handkerchief with his uninjured hand and wraps it tightly around to stop the bleeding, then turns to see if anyone has noticed.

When he turns back around, he is no longer in the golf shop; instead he’s in the processing room of the packing plant. The din of the howling machines is overwhelming, and the butchers are holding golf clubs instead of knives. The cow carcasses are hanging by hooks and moving along the conveyor. The butchers are swinging the clubs at the carcasses as if they are wielding cleavers.

Blood oozes from the meat with each swing, splattering the butchers’ white coats and faces as they lop off chunks of meat and toss them on the worktables. They are talking and laughing back and forth, but with the noise from the machines, David can’t hear what they’re saying. Their mouths move grotesquely as their expressions change.

Occasionally, with a broad smile, one of the butchers swings at the other with the golf club and yells “Fore!”

David is bewildered but not frightened by the scene, until one butcher hits another in the arm as he swings his club. The other man’s arm falls off and bounces onto the concrete floor and blood gushes from his shoulder.

Suddenly everyone and everything looks to be a skinned carcass, but they are all still alive. The bloody carcasses are bellowing, the white coats are gone, and the butchers become a muscular system with a series of muscles to move the skeletons.

They are jousting with one another, appendages are dropping everywhere, and the air is thick with blood.

David turns to run but can’t move. Someone or something is clamping down on him…he is desperately struggling to get away…writhing, trying to tear himself from his clothing. He lets out a terror-stricken scream and sees his father.

The shrill sound of a phone ringing jolts David out of his nightmare. It’s the front desk with his wake-up call. He jumps out of bed, glad to be free of the tangle of sheets.

He feels better after showering. He orders breakfast and coffee and the morning paper, thinking he’ll eat on the balcony. He picks up his briefcase and removes the sheath of knives and inspects them to make sure they’re ready. Just as he is returning the knives, room service knocks at the door.

David takes the tray from the man at the door and signs the receipt, blocking the man’s view of the room. He locks the door and carries the tray to the table on the balcony, uncovers the breakfast plate and pours coffee.

He’s pleased that he has managed to include Marty’s friend, Amy, in his course management; now he can play the eighth and ninth holes tonight. It’s a pity the intruder in San Diego was too young, and Kate Stanley’s mother in New York was too old, otherwise he might have been able to play them as well and be done with the match by now.

Two holes at once might just throw Lou Schein into a spin
. David imagines the discovery of the crime scene, feeling quite malicious this morning. Dreaming about blood always brings out the worst in him.

After breakfast, he carefully packs his briefcase. He is lacking a couple of scorecards from the Highland Meadows Golf Club and will stop for those on the way to Whiteford Country Club.



He parks the Navigator on a side street and walks to the clubhouse. He spends the next two hours leisurely strolling or standing at a tee or near a green watching the second round of play of the Marathon Classic. The golf is great and the FBI surveillance is good; he sees agents everywhere. But they are not good enough. They never notice him.

Finally, he picks up a couple of scorecards in the clubhouse and walks right past one of the FBI flyers on his way out, not bothering to look. Had he looked at it, he would have noticed it now says, “The suspect is believed to be driving a late model, dark green Suburban or Expedition with dark tinted windows.”

Instead, he continues back to the Navigator.

He feels ready to play the match. The eighth and ninth holes will have some variables he can’t control under the circumstances, but if he is playing well today, the ratio of risk to reward is manageable. As he nears the final turn to Whiteford, he can feel them working their way into his body.

He is anxious to play.

He meets Marty and Amy in the pro shop around two. Introductions are made and David exchanges niceties with the women; he’s finding it difficult to be cordial.

They practice putting until they’re called to the first tee. Marty and Amy have decided to share a cart. David hasn’t planned on that, so out of stubbornness he insists he will walk. Another woman, Jennifer Collins, their fourth player, is sitting in her cart at the first tee when they arrive. He begrudgingly accepts her offer to share the cart.

The women’s tee is further down the fairway, so David tees his ball first. He drives it so far down the fairway it rolls up into the group laying ahead of them. He yells “fore,” his playing trio all gasps and applauds.

After moving to the women’s tee, Jennifer Collins tees off first, hitting a nice 3 wood a good distance down the fairway. Marty follows with a similar shot, and finally Amy Blair takes her driver and hits a crisp ball that is almost equal to his. He compliments all of them, joins Jennifer in the cart, and they drive after their balls.

The round and the match are under way.

David’s manner lightens after a few holes, and he buys beers for everyone when the canteen cart comes around. He is concerned about having a third woman riding with them as there is a danger she might notice him spiking the drinks. But he easily doses the drinks left on Marty’s cart when the three women walk together to the ladies’ tee.

When they return, he is leaning against the cart and smiling. He compliments them on their drives.

He can see the effects of the sedative mixed with the beer by the seventh hole. It is subtle at first, but becomes more pronounced after the second round.

By the 14th hole, a par 3, he is worried he might be rushing things. Marty and Amy are becoming dull from the sedative and silly from the beer, laughing a little too much.

“Do you girls want to hit, please?” They look at him and laugh.

“Come on, please?” Jennifer pleads.

They both hit, landing their balls on the green. David asks them to get serious when they reach the green, at least while they’re putting.

It is starting to get cloudy by the time they reach the 17th hole. Both women have quieted and become more passive. Their behavior seems almost normal while their level of play is deteriorating. David keeps everyone moving, wanting to get them off the course before their behavior is noticeable to other players.

Everyone is polite when they finish the round. Jennifer Collins seems relieved to be finished and quickly leaves. David carries his clubs to the Navigator and retrieves his briefcase, meeting the two women back at Marty’s car.

They have freshened up in the ladies locker room and changed into clothing more suitable for a restaurant. They seem brighter but still impaired.

After getting their gear and his briefcase in the car, they all discuss where to eat. David volunteers to drive and heads in a direction that will eventually take them back to Marty’s house. When they are halfway there, he pulls into a steak place.

The women slightly resist, but he insists he wants a steak. Finally they agree. He asks the hostess to seat them in the dining room in half an hour, and then directs the ladies into a dark corner of the bar.

Just as he hoped, as soon as they order their drinks, the women leave the table to go to the ladies room. When the waitress brings the drinks, David orders a bottle of champagne for dinner, waits for her to leave, then lightly spikes their wine.

They carry their second round of drinks into the dining room. They order dinner, chat and drink. Both women are giving him more attention than he wants. They complain of being tired. He keeps the conversation and the champagne going through dinner, even ordering a second bottle, which they never finish.

He encourages them to drink, but makes sure they don’t become obnoxious, attract a lot of attention, or pass out. The women are quite drunk when they finish dinner and he does not offer to buy coffee.

“I really think I’d better drive you ladies home,” he offers when they reach the car.

“Oh, do you?” quips Marty.

“Yes, I do.” He opens the doors. “We’re halfway there anyway. I can take a cab back to the club and pick up my car.”

When everyone is settled, he heads for Marty’s house. He knows exactly where it is. After a couple of miles, he turns the heater on high and bumps the fan to low. He can feel the temperature rising in the car. It soon has the effect he is wanting. Both women are asleep.