The festivities ended at last and the guests dispersed. Once outside, after goodnight hugs, Reid’s group split up into the two vans, one going to the hotel, the other to Bedford. Jay said, “You were right, Reid, I’m glad we came. It was fun, and you certainly needed to be here. That was some tape. I’m really proud to be working for you.”

Shane walked over and they gave each other a hug and kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow, babe. Sleep well,” he said. “You too. This was fun. I’m very proud of you.” “Aw, shucks,” he kidded. “Hey, I love you,” he said and gave her another quick kiss. “Now get out of here.” “I love you too. Goodnight.” Reid drove the van back to the hotel where he, his bodyguards, Jay and Buddy went straight up to the suite. The other golfers waiting at the elevator approached Reid, shook his hand and congratulated him. They all wished each other luck.

When they got to the room, Reid announced that 5 a.m. was wake-up time. He wanted to be at the club by 6:30. He called for a wake-up call, got in bed, closed his eyes and imagined he was teeing off from the first tee. Completely exhausted, he fell asleep before any worrisome thoughts crept into his head.

Chapter 32

Reid was ready to leave for the club by 6 a.m. It was tournament time. Time to focus, even if the outcome of this tournament was going to be different than others. Usually the stakes were: win or lose, increased or decreased tour standings, big money or not. This time, it was life or death. Or was it? In spite of his worn nerves, he thought he was ready. This might be the last tournament he would ever play. Was he going to die? Get maimed? Be paralyzed? If so he wanted the world to remember he was the best.

He went through his game day regimen at the club. His tee time wasn’t until 9:30, and he was playing with Richard Edwards. Rich was having a good season, consistently finishing in the top five, with a couple of second place finishes, one in a tiebreaker.

Reid spent some time stretching and hitting balls, then rested a little before his start time. As usual, he stayed clear of other golfers. He didn’t go near the first tee until 15 minutes before his time. When he was announced, the applause was deafening. After a couple of practice swings, he stepped up to his ball and thought, Okay Reid, it’s showtime. He took a deep breath and swung the club. His drive was short and faded into the left rough. It was safe and playable, but a disappointment nonetheless.

Once again, it was awkward playing while surrounded by guards. He hit some good shots and some not so well, but no disasters. He finished the day two shots behind the leader. Satisfied with his round, he knew he needed to improve the next day. That is, if he really wanted to win.

He spent a quiet evening with Shane, Buck, Jay, Hunter and Joan. They ordered room service and after dinner, the men enjoyed cigars on the balcony. When they went back in, Reid announced, “I hate to be a party pooper, but I need to get some sleep. See you all tomorrow.” He hugged and kissed the “girls”. “Guys, see you at 5,” he said to the guards as he went to his room.

Unsuccessfully, he tried to block all thoughts of the threat from his mind. With each day, his level of fear had escalated, and it became harder and harder to concentrate on golf.

He sat on the bed with his feet on the floor, trying to meditate. Allowing his body to loosen up and his mind to wander, he actually slipped into a state of tranquility. He emerged completely relaxed. Well, not quite completely, but at the moment, even partially was an accomplishment. He lay back and slowly resumed his thoughts of golf until sleep came.

On Friday, Reid played his round with Mickey Fels, an Englishman.

They had been casual friends since Reid joined the tour. By the fourth hole, a wave of new energy washed over Reid. Despite all the negative things that had been going on in his life and all the worries that had been tripping him up lately, he finally managed to let them go and just relax. His concentration came back. He body felt good and his mind seemed to put everything but the game out of his thoughts. He found his rhythm and moved into the zone.

At the fifth tee, he stepped up to take his turn. He took a deep breath and looked down the fairway to where he wanted to send the ball. He adjusted his grip and prepared to swing back. Suddenly a shot rang out. Reid dropped to the ground in panic as the team scrambled to surround him. He felt Joel’s long body land heavily on top of him, creating a human blanket.

Screams erupted from the crowd. Spectators scattered, some diving to the ground, others ducking behind trees. There was complete pandemonium. After a few moments, Stu yelled, “Relax everyone. It was only a car backfiring.” Reid closed his eyes and sighed. After Joel stood up, Reid got up slow ly and brushed the grass and dirt off himself. The bodyguards looked at each other with big grins. Seeing them, Reid began to chuckle. The laugh was infectious and spread through the men and even into the gallery.

“Okay,” Reid commented, “so much for being in the zone. I guess we can call that a trial run. Guys, thank you. I’m still shaking a little, but I’m impressed. You were quick. Now we need to get back to golf.” Reid turned to Mickey and said, “Sorry. Are you all right? I’m sure if you need a moment, everyone will understand.”

“No, I’m okay, thanks. Got to admit though, that was a first. I’d think about suing for emotional distress,” he kidded in his strong Cockney accent, “but I volunteered to play with you today.” “Volunteered?” Reid asked. “Yeah. They asked for volunteers before they assigned someone. I’ve got to tell you, the list of volunteers was a mile long. You’ve got friends out here in spite of yourself, Reid.” “Thanks, that makes me feel pretty good. Ready to play?” “Ready when you are,” Fels said. Reid stretched a little and walked to the tee. The gallery applauded his perseverance. He took a practice swing, then hit a fantastic shot. Mickey walked up and hit a great shot as well.

Reid was a little shaky on his following shots and bogeyed the hole. He settled down afterward and by the next hole found his rhythm again.

He finished the day in third place, four shots behind the leader. All things considered, Reid was okay with his standing. If he could finish like he did today in spite of the huge distraction, he could win tomorrow as long as there were no unexpected interruptions.

That night he needed to relax. He decided they would have dinner at the Cobblestone, a small local pub, which was far enough away that there would be no players or press to bother them. Reid had spent most of his summer nights at the pub during his college years. It was located about half way between the golf course and Joan’s house, so the girls would have a short ride home after dinner. In spite of the relaxing evening, Reid was having trouble falling asleep. He couldn’t purge his mind of the horrible possibilities. What if this lunatic tries to kill me but fails and only injures me? What if I’m paralyzed or have to live on a respirator? No way, not me. I’d rather be dead!

Once again, Reid was awakened by the ring of the telephone. He fum bled for it and lifted the handset to his ear. As he mumbled, “Hello,” a deep voice said, “This is your last warning, if you win this tournament, you die.” Then he heard a click as the caller hung up.

An intense feeling of dread swept over him. He was going to be sick again. He sprang out of bed and ran to the bathroom. Leaning over the toilet, he retched. He then sat slumped over on the tiled floor until his queasiness subsided. Trembling, he stood up and leaned against the wall for a moment, settling down. After splashing cold water on his face, he went to the living room. Mench, who was on duty, asked, “What’s the matter? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” “He just called with another threat.” Mench picked up his radio and sent an alert to Jay. Seconds later, Jay’s groggy voice came over the radio asking, “What is it?” Mench explained the call. “Who’s on duty besides you?” Jay asked, now fully alert. “Greeny’s just outside the door and Pat is on the balcony.” “Alright, I’m on my way. Send an alert to everyone except teams three and four. Wake up the others here at the hotel and station someone at every entrance. Have Stu call the phone company and check the call. Tell Joel to get over to the hotel switchboard. Our bug should have recorded it. Get the tape up to the suite immediately. And Mench, do not let Reid out of your sight.” “I’m on it.” Mench rapidly made all the calls. “Oh boy,” Reid sighed. “Another great start to a day.” “Listen to me, Reid…” started Mench. Reid cut him off. “I know, I know, you’re going to get him. You know what? I’m getting kind of tired of hearing it. You guys are no further along then when this whole thing started. I know you’re all the best, you’re certainly the most expensive, but why don’t you cut the crap and admit it. You’re clueless.”