Free Match Play by D. Michael Poppe

he will be on his way to Chicago by April 8.
    He stands, surveys the room and sees that everything is ready for tomorrow. He turns on the light beside the bed before shutting off the others. He arranges his clothing on the chair beside the bed and dials the front desk and asks for a five a.m. wake-up call. He gives his hair a final brushing, ties it back and lays down.
    He listens to his breathing…the calm before the storm.

Chapter 13
    I t is Saturday, mid-afternoon, March 23 at Aviara Golf Club when the man selects the second hole, a par 3; he will play the hole tomorrow. He has followed the careers of many golfers in Certain Swing Magazine; he knew when he saw her that she would produce a compelling conclusion to the second hole. He has chosen Emily Cho, age thirty-one.
    The long morning has made him weary and he searches for a hotel by the beach. Money is not an issue; he is wealthy by any standards. He finds a high end, very well-maintained hotel with four floors. He requests top floor with a view and is quite satisfied when he enters the room. He makes note of the location of the refrigerator and microwave. He opens the balcony door and immediately the ocean breeze wafts in and surrounds him with the warmth of the sun.
    He returns to the car, unloads his luggage, and while there, retrieves more cash from the spare tire well. The wrapped packet of bills is in order, with the presidents facing upright and to the left. His hand bumps the Glock 30S and he is reminded that California gun laws are very strict. He must make sure it is not discovered should he be stopped for any reason.
    Back in his room, the man removes his cap and stands on the balcony and peers out at the ocean. His shoulder length, wavy blond hair is tossed by the ocean breeze. His blue eyes glisten in the light reflecting off the ocean. His height is slightly less than six feet, and he has a handsome face, light-complexion and smooth skin, that appears younger than his years. He is lean and well-toned and carries himself with a confident demeanor. His hands are well-defined, with narrow and elegant palms and long and graceful fingers; he has the hands of a pianist.
    He twirls a strand of hair as he plans which courses he will play over the next few days. When he played the first hole in Phoenix, he had time to find his victim and stalk her for two days before playing the hole. Now he feels pressured for time and decides if the opportunity to play the second hole presents itself, he will be less cautious. He is more practiced, more prepared.
    He expects that Joan will be at Aviara on Sunday morning interviewing the players. He ties his hair and fits it under his cap. He will check with the concierge for restaurant recommendations and for the location of the nearest market.
    He chooses a bistro just one block away, with a small market next door. The hostess sits him by the window with a view of the ocean. The hostess is the right age and he wonders if she plays golf. He is equally impressed with his waitress, contemplating if she also plays golf. In his compulsion to always be prepared, it is imperative that he has a secondary in mind.
    He enjoys his dinner of grilled sea bass and steamed vegetables along with two glasses of a California Pinot Grigio, one of his favorites.
    He stops at the market and picks up a few things from the deli; lunch meat, fine cheese, sourdough bread, condiments and two bottles of wine. He drifts down the aisles, finds potato chips and fancy cookies and sees the sign for baby products. He picks the small jars; two applesauce and two apricot. Next is the cosmetic aisle and the man adds toothpaste to his hand basket.
    He walks slowly back to the hotel, noting his car in the parking lot. He approves of the inconspicuous spot he chose. His purchases fit neatly into the refrigerator, all but one, a jar of applesauce which he eats while flipping through television channels. Not finding anything of interest, he showers and goes to