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Co
Co
As soon as he heard the outer door slam shut, Co
Co
He was almost halfway across the ballroom when he felt a hand grab him by the collar. Propelled by his own momentum, Co
… to face Barry Be
Co
“Man, did you see those fireworksh?”
Co
“Fabuloush. Just fabuloush. Lit up the whole lagoon.”
“Barry, let go of me.”
“And when the glittery lights spelled out the bride and groom’s names-I thought I was go
“Barry, I’m giving you one last chance to avoid major surgery. Let go.”
“Did you know Freddy’s girl spells Karen with a C? I didn’t.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Co
Co
Damn! In just a few precious seconds, he’d lost what little he’d gained.
Cursing himself, he started looking for O’Brien. At the very least, he could tell her what he’d heard. Maybe she could figure out a way-
All at once, the ballroom was split apart by a piercing scream. The shocking sound echoed and reverberated through the hall, rattling the chandeliers. The cry was picked up by others; soon the entire room was shouting and yelling and ru
What the hell was going on? Co
A crowd was gathering at the front of the ballroom, swarming toward the front doors. Co
When he finally made it through the doors, it was immediately clear that everyone’s attention was focused in one direction-toward the technicolor fountain in the center of the front patio.
“Let me through!” Co
Finally, he made it to the base of the fountain and peered inside. It didn’t take him long to see what all the commotion was about.
Her body was still floating, rocking back and forth with the gentle currents and ripples, and her gown was like a kaleidoscope when illuminated by multicolored lights. A casual observer might suspect that a party guest who’d had one too many had decided to take a dip in the fountain with her clothes on. But Co
Steeling himself, Co
He released the body but remained where he was. He felt frozen, locked into place. His brain felt paralyzed, too. He was petrified by shock and horror and an utter lack of comprehension. How could this be?
It was his first love, Jodie McCree, just as he had seen her only hours before. Except now there was a deep, bloody gash across the base of her throat.
A fatal slice.
Three. Swinging in the Dark
In 1968, Bob Goalby and Roberto De Vicenzo dueled for the Masters championship. As they approached the final hole, De Vicenzo was ahead by a stroke. Goalby sliced on the tee shot and barely made par. De Vicenzo overshot the green and bogeyed. The score was tied. But De Vicenzo’s scorekeeper, Tommy Aaron, had made a tragic error. Aaron gave De Vicenzo a four on the seventeenth hole, even though a worldwide television audience had just watched him do it in three. De Vicenzo didn’t catch the error and signed the scorecard. Therefore, the official score showed Goalby wi
At first, the Augusta National powers-that-be didn’t know what to do. The Masters is not a USGA or PGA event, so they weren’t bound by their rules. Should they abide by the letter of Rule 38, Paragraph 3, or allow equity and justice to prevail? Perhaps there should be a sudden-death playoff, some suggested. They huddled in the clubhouse, meanwhile forbidding the CBS sportscasters from a
“We are the Augusta National Golf Club,” Jones ruled, “and we will abide by the rules of golf.” De Vincezo had signed the card, and that was that. Goalby was declared the wi
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Afterward, Co
Jodie. With a hideous oozing slash across her throat.
People buzzed all around him, droning on, creating a dull roar at the edge of audibility, like bumblebees swarming in the distance. He heard himself answering their questions, but the answers came from somewhere else, some separate brain, some distinct consciousness. Only when he saw a friendly face did he slowly start coming back to his head.
“Cross? Hey, Cross?” It was Lieutenant O’Brien. “Are you going to be all right?”
Co
“Good. You clowns clear out. Give him some air.”
Co