Chapters (73)
- Praise
- Praise
- Praise
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- Chapter 59
- Chapter 60
- Chapter 61
- Chapter 62
- Chapter 63
- Chapter 64
- Chapter 65
- Acknowledgements
- Teaser chapter
“That’s what keeps us coming back,” Dino said. He hit a good drive, too, but short of Stone’s.
“I like you keeping a respectful twenty yards back,” Stone said. “Shows a certain deference.”
Stone chunked his second shot, hitting the ground before striking the ball. It fell short, some forty yards from the green.
Dino hit the green. “Sorry about the lack of deference,” he said.
Stone got out of the cart and looked toward the green, lining up his shot. Then he saw the car, sitting and idling at the side of the road, a hundred yards away.
“What club do you want?” Dino asked, standing at the rear of the cart beside the bags.
“Give me the two-iron,” Stone said.
“Yeah, sure,” Dino laughed. “You mean a wedge, don’t you?”
“Give me the two-iron,” Stone said again.
“Even you will hit the two-iron a hundred and eighty yards,” Dino said. “I’d use a lob wedge, myself, to clear the bunker.”
“Give me the two-iron,” Stone said, an edge in his voice.
Dino gave him the two-iron.
Stone took the club and lined up on his target.
“You’re aiming twenty yards to the left of the pin,” Dino said, standing behind him.
Stone took a practice swing.
“Stone, if you take a full swing, you’re going to hit the ball onto a neighboring golf course.”
“No, I’m not,” Stone said.
“Then you can kiss that ball goodbye.”
Stone lined up with the ball. He took a short back-swing and abbreviated his follow-through to keep the shot low. He connected solidly, and the ball flew straight and true, twenty yards to the left of the pin, across the road, narrowly missing a passing Rolls-Royce, and straight at the idling car with the blacked-out windows. The ball struck the driver’s window with a thwack, but it did not shatter. Instead, it cracked into a hundred pieces, held together by the safety glass and the tinting film applied to the window.
Stone hoped somebody would get out, but instead, the car sped away, its tires squealing on the pavement, leaving a puff of black smoke.
“Nice shot!” Dino yelled.
Chapter 42
42
DINO WATCHED THE CAR SPEED AWAY AND LAUGHED aloud. “That ought to make the guy keep his distance!”
“Guy? What guy? You said it was Dolce.”
“I said I thought it was Dolce. For all I know, it may be one of your groupies.”
“I don’t have groupies,” Stone said.
“Okay, maybe it’s one of your many enemies.”
“Come on, let’s finish the round,” Stone said. “I assume you’re going to let me take a mulligan on that one.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
Stone took his sand wedge, choked down on it, opened the face and flopped the ball onto the green, within three feet of the pin.
“You should have taken my advice in the first place,” Dino said.