“We found Gatto, the last of the GolfCo partners. He’s living in Maui and is part owner of a golf course there. He’s making a ton of money and living in paradise. That leaves Jennifer and Eli. I still don’t have a good read on Jennifer. She was very convincing when I questioned her. Reid, I think you were right, she may be a golddigger, and while she might make idle threats, she wouldn’t threaten your life.” Reid nodded. After another gulp of juice, Jay resumed his analysis. “I like Eli more and more for this. We still can’t find him, but we know he’s wanted in Philadelphia for grand theft auto. Philly law enforcement has been looking for him for six months. It’s starting to add up. He obviously feels shafted for being fired before getting his big bonus. The stolen Porsche is icing on the cake. I put out an APB on him and we’re circulating his picture throughout the area.” He stopped a moment to let them absorb the information, then concluded, “Gentlemen, this case is not as tight as I would like, but at least our list is shrinking.”

Fidgety, Reid said, “Jay, I need to get out of here. I’ll go crazy if you keep me cooped up any longer. I want to go play nine holes to loosen up and calm down. Give me as much protection as you think I need; just let me out.”

“I’m sorry, Reid. I promise you’ll get out soon, but give me a little more time. I called a friend of mine, Michael Pastore, who owns VIP Security Service. He’s sending up his four best men. They should be here any minute and they’ll go with you, Joel and Stu. I want you surrounded wherever you go. We’re going to have problems protecting you on the golf course. We obviously can’t surround you while you’re hitting the ball. We’ll be able to cover your back and sides. We’ll stay as tight as possible. It won’t be easy for you, but there’s not a heck of a lot of choice.”

“I’ll deal with it. I just hope they get here soon. What are you going to say to the press?” Reid asked.

“I’m actually going to use them to bluff Eli into thinking we’re after someone else. If we can make him feel comfortable, he might get sloppy and make a mistake. All we need is one mistake and he’s ours. I called a press conference for 2 p.m.” “I don’t have to be there, do I?” “No, Buck and I will handle it.” There was a knock at the door. Reid got up to get it but Joel cut him off. “Sit down, I’ll get it.” Reid shrugged and turned away. “Who’s there?” Joel asked through the door. “It’s Buck, and four big guys with guns. I think they’re on our side, though,” he joked. Joel took out his gun, opened the door with the chain attached and peeked out to see Buck with four men. “Gentlemen, I need to see I.D.’s.” They passed their cards through the opening. “Now I need to have you each stand where I can see your face. One at a time, please.” Each man took his turn near the door while Joel matched each one with the appropriate photo. Kevin, Eric, Steve and Pat. He removed the chain and said, “Come on in, sorry for the delay.” “If you hadn’t checked, I’d be worried,” Steve said. “Glad you understand.” Steve walked over to Jay and Joel. “It’s an honor to meet you both; Mr. Scott, Mr. Rebah.” He shook their hands. “We consider this a dream assignment. You guys set the standard for the industry, and we’re honored to be part of your team.” He looked at Reid. “Mr. Clark, for your peace of mind, we have each worked on several presidential security details. We’ve been through the best formal training in the industry. More important, we have dealt with situations similar to yours and have taken down almost every perp we’ve been after.” “Almost?” Reid asked. “Reid, we’ll talk about it later,” Jay said. “These guys are good. Their company is one of the best in the industry, and they are the best the company has. You’re in good hands.” “Thanks, Jay,” Steve said. “Gentlemen, here’s the deal.” Jay handed out Eli’s picture. “We think this is our man; he used to be Reid’s caddie. We just received our third threat this morning.” Jay held up the ball and note. “It was delivered on the room service cart. He’s playing with us now and I am not amused. Feds, troopers and local cops will be situated everywhere on and around the golf course. I want this guy, gentleman. I want him before this tournament ends.” Stu walked in just as Jay finished. “What’d you find?” Jay asked. “Nothing. Nobody saw anything or anyone suspicious. The tray was put on a cart that sits in the room-service prep area until it’s brought up. Someone had to get to it while it was in the prep area. I’ve got the crew dusting but there is so much traffic in there, I don’t think we’ll get anything. Did anybody dust the cart and tray?” “Yes. Nothing there,” Joel said. “Hey, I hate to be a nuisance, but can we go now?” Reid asked. “Yeah, go ahead. Were done here,” Jay said. “And Joel…” Joel cut him off, “I know, I know, like glue. Don’t worry; we’re all over him, Jay.” Reid left with his security detail and Buddy. He had to get used to being completely surrounded by bodyguards. It was difficult for him. It was his nature to be in front, leading the way.

Buck and Jay remained in the suite. Jay’s cell phone rang. Buck listened as he answered, “Jay Scott… Of course not, that would have made things too easy… In Harlem. Hmmm… Everything helps, Tim… Thanks. Hate to say it, but we need it on this one.”

Jay hung up, turned to Buck and explained. “That was Tim Parker, a detective assigned to the case. He said they tracked the paper to a store near Columbia University, up in Harlem.” Buck nodded. “The good news is they only sold one ream from that dye lot. The bad news is it was a cash sale, so there’s no paper trail.” He rolled his eyes. “Interesting use of words, huh? Well, anyway, equally bad is that the store has no video surveillance system. They questioned the clerk who sold the paper. He vaguely remembers the customer was a young, black female. That’s it.” “That’s not much to go on,” Buck said. “Nope. The epitome of a needle in a haystack.” Jay paused, clasped his hands together in prayer like fashion, raised his forefingers to his lips and said, “Help me, Buck, I’m getting mixed signals. The paper was bought in Harlem by a young black girl. The stolen Porsche was found at a chop shop in Harlem. At this point in the investigation, Eli is at the top of my list of suspects, but there are several problems with that theory. First, and most obvious, Eli is white. Second, he wasn’t part of the ‘jack and chop’ bust. His prints were not found anywhere in the chop shop, while everyone they busted left prints. Everyone involved was black. The prints were also checked against those they have for that street gang, which include just about every member. None matched. Damn, Buck! Nothing fits.” “Take it easy, Jay, you’ll figure it out; you always do,” Buck said trying to console him. “Thanks for listening, anyway.” “Sorry I couldn’t be of more help.” “Just repeating the facts sometimes helps. It can make me see things from a different perspective.” “Was it any help this time?” “No, not really,” Jay sighed.