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Before the night was through, Carl went to the podium and thanked everyone for coming. He announced that there was a box of Freeze for everyone to take home. “I would appreciate it if all the tour pros here tonight would try the balls, then contact me with your evaluation.” He then revealed two surprises. “I’d like everyone to reach into the silver bowl on your table and take an ice cube. By now they should have melted to the size of large marbles. Now place the ice in your mouth and let it melt. Do not swallow if you feel something hard after the ice melts. There are tiny platinum golf balls in three of the cubes. Whoever finds the platinum balls will be going on a two-week vacation for two to the Fiji Islands.”

There was a moment of silence before shrieks came from different areas of the room. One winner was a caddie; the other two were player’s wives. As they were congratulated, waiters entered the room in succession, carrying trays of shot glasses. They quickly handed one to each guest. Squeals of surprise sounded out as everyone realized the shot glasses were made of ice. Carl raised his and said, “To the Master’s and to Freeze. Bottoms up, everyone.” Most did the shot; many reached for a second.

The evening ended early for the players’ sake. Tomorrow was the final day of the tournament. Reid had reserved the room next to his suite for his sisters. He handed them the cardkeys and said, “You guys can hang out with Buck for the rest of the evening. I’m sure he’ll introduce you to some interesting people. I’ll see you at the golf course tomorrow. By the way, when the tournament is over, what do you say we fly to New York and spend some time with Mom before the Classic at Westchester Country Club?”

“I have to make sure Steve and the kids are okay with it,” Betsy said. “I’m sure it won’t be a problem. I already have another instructor teaching my dance classes while I’m out. Besides, it’ll be good for Mom.”

“Why don’t you have Steve and the kids meet us there? They can come watch the tournament.”

“Good idea. I’ll call and see if he can take a few days off. The kids would love it.” “Marriage sure makes things complicated, doesn’t it?” Hunter joked. “Oh shut up!” Betsy replied with a grin. “Alright, alright, cut it out you two,” Reid said. I have to hit the sack. Go have some fun.” He turned toward the rest of the group at the table. “Good night, all.” “Good night, Reid,” they all said. “Good luck tomorrow,” Carl added. “Thanks, Carl,” Reid said. He turned to Buddy. “We tee off at 2:30. I want to sleep late, then get a massage. Let’s meet in the locker room at 11:30.” “Sounds good,” Buddy replied. By the time Reid got his room it was 10 p.m. and he was bushed. After a quick shower, he got in bed. When he called to request his wake-up call, the receptionist told him he had a message waiting. He said, “I’ll get it tomorrow.” It was time to think golf, and only golf. Once again, he played each hole on the course in his head. Sleep came somewhere in the middle of the 15th.

Chapter 10

When the phone rang at 7:30 a.m., Reid opened his eyes and smiled; the Green Jacket fit him perfectly in his dream. He reached over, barely lifted the phone and dropped it back in the cradle. He sat up, rubbed his face and stretched, then called to order breakfast. After dressing, he ate on the balcony, then left for the club to finish the tournament. He met Buddy in the locker room. “Ready?” “Ready,” Buddy said. Reid changed into his golf shoes while Buddy did the shopping for the round: Cokes, water, bananas and candy bars. They met again at the practice range. Reid’s clubs had been delivered to the range earlier with those of most of the players. There were only a few other guys on the range practicing. Most were already playing their rounds or getting ready to tee off.

Reid took an iron out of his bag and used it to stretch. He handed Buddy the iron and pulled his driver from the bag. Mindlessly, he removed the head-cover and tossed it to Buddy. He teed up a ball and took his stance. It wasn’t until he placed the club behind the ball that he noticed some kind of note taped to the top of the club head. “What the hell is this?” he asked. He lifted the club to read the note. It was a blue piece of paper that said:

Win today, it’s OK, Win another you’ll be 6 feet under. “Good one, Buddy,” Reid said with a laugh. “I didn’t put it there,” Buddy said shaking his head. “Right,” Reid said in doubt. “Really, Reid, I didn’t,” Buddy said emphatically. “Buddy, if you didn’t do this, we have a problem. Someone’s playing with us.” “What’s it say?” Buddy asked. Reid showed him the note. After reading it, Buddy said, “Real funny. When I find out who did this, I’m gonna kick their butt all the way across the course.” “You think it’s real?” Reid asked nervously, looking around. “No way!…My God! Do you?” Reid took a deep breath and said very seriously, “I don’t know, but real or not, we have a match to play. I can’t let this rattle me. Today is our day, dammit. Take off the note!”

As Buddy started to remove the note, Reid yelled, “Buddy, stop. If it’s real, that’s evidence. Go get my back-up driver.” Buddy left for the clubhouse. As Reid looked at the note again, his concern grew. So my feelings have been right, he thought. But why would anybody threaten me? Well, I guess there might be a few people with enough reason.

He grabbed another club and started swinging it, trying to loosen up. After a few swings, he teed up a ball and hit a terrible slice. He teed up another and hit a huge hook. I’m over-compensating, he thought. “Slow down, focus and relax,” he said aloud to himself. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He hit the next ball straight. Thank God, he thought, I can still do it. He banged a few more straight and long. Then he took out his wedge and hit some short shots. He was doing okay, but he could feel a knot forming in his gut. Buddy came back and handed Reid his other driver. “How ya doin’?” “Not so great. If this thing is real, we have a big problem. I know I’ve pissed off more than a few people lately. It’ll be tough to narrow it down to one. God, I hope it’s just a joke.”

“Please, let that be the case,” Buddy said. “Either way, we need to report it to the police.” “Call Buck and get him here quickly. Don’t tell him why; just say it’s important that we meet before I tee off.” Buddy pulled out his cell phone and walked away. Reid swung his driver a few times, then teed up another ball. He swung the club and topped the ball. It skidded through the grass about 20 feet. “Oh, this is going to be some day,” he murmured through gritted teeth. He looked up and noticed another player watching him with a look of shock.

“What are you looking at?” Reid growled. “You gonna tell me you’ve never missed a ball?” “Easy, Reid, I’m sorry,” the golfer said. “No, I’m sorry, I’m just uptight.” Reid stepped away and walked to the far side of the range. He needed to calm down; this was one of the most important days of his life. He closed his eyes, tilted his head to the sky and said, “I don’t ask you for much, but I could really use some help right now.” He slowly walked back to his practice spot, teed up a ball, and said to himself, “Just focus and relax. You can do this.” Once again, he took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. He hit the ball and it took off like a missile, straight and very long. He sighed in relief, thinking, Today’s going to be tough. I’m going to need extreme concentration on every shot. He proceeded to hit another six balls with absolute focus; he hit them all well. The knot in his stomach began to subside. He hit another 20 balls with various clubs. Whenever he allowed his mind to wander, he hit a lousy shot. He needed Buddy’s help today. Buddy would have to constantly remind him to relax. Otherwise, they were in for big trouble. Reid continued to practice like it was just another day. He chipped for a while, then went to the practice green. He needed to stay calm to hold his lead today. But he knew thoughts of the note were going to haunt him. It would be a miracle if he could think of anything else. He gathered all his inner strength and whispered to himself, “I can do this.”