“I hate these fucking places,” Sledge said as he stepped out of the BMW Ash had rented for the day.

“Me too,” Ash told him.

“Yeah, but you look like you were born in that suit...I look ridiculous.”

Ash laughed. “You do not, you look sharp.”

“Right,” Sledge said, rolling his eyes. “I’m still confused about why we had to do this here.”

“Monday is his golf day.” Ash strolled toward the country club where he’d spent many a day growing up and made many a memory that he still held onto. He had his first job there, working as a caddy for his dad and some of his friends. He had his first kiss there, at a dance that he and Mack managed to sneak away from for a little while when they were thirteen. He had his first taste of alcohol there and smoked his first cigarette too. Those weren’t things he was proud of...but it had all been a part of growing up. A big part of him was glad that Phil Spencer played golf on Mondays; it gave him an excuse to revisit the old place, and he knew how to work the system as well.

“Hello, sir.” The muscle-head at the door was dressed in a black suit that looked like every thread in the fabric was stretched to its limit. His smile looked fake, but Ash didn’t blame him for that. He could only imagine what kind of rich assholes this guy had to deal with on a daily basis.

“Well, hello there. How are you today...Robert?” Ash read the man’s nametag.

“I’m well, sir, thank you for asking. May I see your passes?”

“Passes?” he said, frowning. He looked at Sledge. “Did Phil give you any type of passes?”

“No. He just said to meet him here at eleven. We need a pass?”

“This is a private club, sir.”

“Yes, of course,” Ash said. “We’re from California but we’ve been here many times with Phil Spencer. He’s a business associate of ours. We were supposed to meet him here for lunch today. He had an eight a.m. tee time, so he was sure he’d be finished by now.”

“The car left. Should I try and get it back?” Sledge said, with a heavy sigh. “I have to catch my plane by two.”

“It’s only eleven.”

Sledge rolled his eyes and gave the muscle-head a look that said, Can you believe this guy? “I know what time it is. But this gentleman says we can’t come in and I’d like to have lunch before I catch my plane.”

“He didn’t say that. Did you say that?” Ash asked him.

“Not without a pass, sir.”

“Can I call Phil? Maybe he got held up on the green, you know how it is, right?”

“I’d still have to see some kind of pass, sir.”

“You know Phil Spencer, right?”

“Yes sir, I know who Mr. Spencer is.”

“Well then, you’d recognize his voice on the phone, right? I mean, really...would we stand here and offer to call him if he hadn’t invited us?”

“Sir...” Ash had two one-hundred-dollar bills in his hand and the muscle-head caught sight of them. He looked Ash in the eyes and said, “I don’t do bribes.”

Ash laughed and looked at Sledge, who laughed too. “Bribes? No way. This was going to be a tip for you letting me use your phone to call Phil. I’d use my own, but I want you to be able to dial the phone and hear who is on the other end yourself. Please, this meeting is so important, and you know how it is, right? If Mr. Spencer has the other party with him and they show up to find us sitting outside, sweating in our Armani suits...well, that just puts us all at a disadvantage, doesn’t it?”

The big man sighed, and Ash bit his bottom lip to keep from smiling when he saw him pull out his phone. He handed it to Ash and Ash pressed in a number. The big guy looked at it, probably checking the area code to make sure it was local. He put it to his ear and after a second said, “Mr. Spencer?”

Ash couldn’t hear who was on the other end, but he knew who it was, and what he was saying. It was a sixteen-year-old boy...a good friend of Charlie’s who worked at the club. Charlie spoke to him on the phone at length the day before and the boy had heartily agreed to his part in this plan...provided Charlie attend a concert in the park with him that night. Ash hadn’t liked that part. It almost felt like pimping his sister out. But Charlie told him that she’d really liked this guy at one point, but because Allison didn’t like his mother, she hadn’t been allowed to date him. Ash ultimately agreed to it, and he knew that right then the boy, a kid named Owen, was telling the muscle-head that he was Phil Spencer’s caddie and he would put Mr. Spencer on the phone. In fact, Owen was at the club...but he was working in the gym as a lifeguard, not out on the green as a caddy.

There was a long pause and then the big guy said, “I’m so sorry, Mr. Spencer, I would have never bothered you but there’s a...yes, sir, I know that you shouldn’t be disturbed, especially on the eighteenth hole. I’m very sorry, but there are two gentlemen...” He was quiet again and then placing his hand over the speaker he said, “Martin Gellar and Miles Stevens?” Ash smiled brightly and nodded. “Yes, sir,” the man said, back into the phone. “I’m sorry, sir, but they didn’t have passes...yes, sir, of course. Thank you, sir.” He ended the call and told Ash, “He said to meet him at table 22.”

“Thank you, Robert,” Ash said, slipping the two hundreds into the other man’s hand. He walked into the club, praying that after five years, about twenty pounds, and longer and lighter hair thanks to the California sun, no one in the club would recognize him. He and Sledge found the hostess and once again turned on the charm asking her to show them to Phil’s table, which she did. The waitress was young, and pretty, and Sledge started in on her right away, introducing himself as Miles and telling her how pretty she was. They both ordered a whiskey and Coke and when the blushing waitress returned with the drinks, Sledge flirted with her again. They sat chatting among themselves and sipping their drinks, when Ash’s phone beeped. He took it out and looked at the text. It was from Owen and it said:

“He’s headed toward the sauna.” Owen’s lifeguard seat also afforded him a bird’s-eye view of the eighteenth hole and the surrounding area.

“Okay, it’s time,” Ash told Sledge. “You got this?” Ash looked across the room at the waitress and Sledge said:

“I’ve got this, she’s almost already as wet as I left that sweet little piece at Spencer’s office this morning while you were meeting with the lawyers and the wicked witch.”

Ash rolled his eyes and laughed. “TMI, brother. I’ll text you in a bit.” While Ash and Charlie dealt with the Allison mess, Sledge had flown into the city and done some reconnaissance. He’d found out from the assistant that Spencer was not expected in on Mondays until one p.m. She said he played his eighteen holes, took a long sauna, a shower, and then had lunch before returning to work. Ash didn’t ask how Sledge managed to get that much information out of her, but he could guess.

“I wish I could be there,” Sledge said as Ash stood up.

“I know, but we both agreed this was less risky. This sonofabitch let Mack think he could put me in prison. I want to make sure he doesn’t have the last laugh.” Sledge nodded, and Ash got up, making his way toward the restroom in the back where there was also a door that led outside. He went out the door and then with his hands in his pockets, he strolled toward the health club where the steam rooms were located. He stopped at the door, took out his phone, and put it to his ear. He pushed in through the lobby doors and as he passed the front desk he barked out a few technical business terms into the phone. He sighed and shook his head like he was frustrated with whoever was on the other line and the girl behind the desk smiled at him. He mouthed “towel.” She reached under the counter and brought out a white towel and handed it to him. He pointed toward the door that led to the pool and she smiled and nodded. He made sure she was still watching as he went through that door and then he waited. There were only a few people in the pool and none of them were paying him any mind. He looked out the door and saw that the girl had her back to him before he sneaked out and went toward another door that said “Steam Rooms.” He went through that door and into one of the changing rooms. He stripped off his shoes and all of his clothes except for his shorts. He tucked his gun into the elastic of his shorts and wrapped the towel around his waist. Checking to make sure no one had come in first, he left the changing room and went toward the steam rooms. They were small, individual cabana-like structures with red or green lights on the outside to show occupied and unoccupied. As it was a Monday morning, Ash got lucky and there was only one green light lit. It saved him time guessing. He took one more look around, slid the gun out of his waistband, and stepped into the steamy little room.

“Occupied!” Phil Spencer snapped. Ash walked toward the voice and the man’s silhouette came into view when he was about a foot away. “What is wrong with you? I said...oh fuck!” He either saw the gun, or recognized Ash, or both. Ash smiled and sat down next to him on the bench.

“How’s it hangin’, Phil?” He glanced down between the man’s legs, squinted, and said, “Oh, sorry, looks like you ran out of Viagra or something.”

“What do you want? You can’t possibly think you can shoot me in here and just stroll out...and get away with it...”

“No, I’m not that stupid,” Ash said. “Not as stupid as you were when you thought you could rape an innocent woman and get away with it. Repeatedly rape...all weekend long. You’re a sick puppy, Phil.”

“I don’t know what she told you but...”

“She told me the truth. You want to waste time making up a story, or you want to hear my plan?”

He looked like he was about to piss himself. After a few seconds he said, “What do you want from me?”

“I want you dead,” Ash said in a matter-of-fact tone. “I wish I had time to make you suffer, the way you did Mack...but you’re not worth going to prison over.”

“I thought you said you weren’t stupid enough to kill me in here.”

“Oh, I’m not,” Ash told him. “Murder is so distasteful, don’t you think? No, I’d hate for Mack to think of me as a murderer. She has such a good heart that she might not even be able to forgive me for killing you. But...I do think it would make her happy to read some obscure obituary about how you had a freak accident at the club.” Phil opened his mouth to scream, but Ash was too quick for him. It was all over in minutes and that was his only regret.