Pros & Cons of Betrayal - A. E. Wasp Page 0,24

engagement. I can’t imagine we’ll be in any physical danger in the middle of a golf course in Onalaska.”

“No one ever does,” Steele replied seriously. “That’s how people die. You do your job, and let me do mine.”

“You’re right. Okay, Danny. Ready for some golf?”

“Do I get to drive a golf cart?” he asked.

“Probably.”

“Sweet! Let’s go!”

6 Eric

When I’d been cut loose from hockey, I could have settled anywhere, but my first thought had been to go home. Of course, home had changed during the years I’d been gone, but it was still the place I felt I belonged the most.

The golf course was on the bluffs lining the east side of the upper Mississippi, and the thick stands of trees on either side of the river blazed red, yellow, and orange against the bright blue September sky. Fall had always been my favorite season and the extravagant beauty of my hometown was a big part of why.

The tournament was a family affair, with food carts, face painting, putting and driving contests for the kids. I saw Aunt Momo and Sammy trying out some new putters. I should take the kid out more often, shoot a few holes.

A crowd was starting to gather in front of the clubhouse. I nodded to a few of the golfers I recognized.

“Smallman, you heading up?” asked one guy I occasionally saw at a pickup hockey game at the rink.

“Be there in a few,” I promised with a wave. “Save me a swag bag.”

“I make no promises,” he said with a smile.

“Let’s go,” Ryan said. “We’ll check in, get our stuff. The autograph signing is over near the ‘longest putt’ competition. Symanski and Bob are meeting us there.”

“Who’s caddying?” I asked.

“New kid. Pro at the club recommended him,” Ryan said. “Maybe he can give you some pointers, make you look good in front of Symanski,” he added with a chuckle. “You could use all the help you can get.”

“Screw you,” I said.

“Hey, now,” Ryan said mildly offended. “I’m just looking out for your best interests. I know how much you want this to work out. Sometimes you don’t see all the possibilities. I’m just trying to get you to expand your horizons.”

I sighed and clapped him on the shoulder. “I know you are. You always do. I appreciate it.”

He grinned, mollified. “You’re going to love it. I promise. Now let’s go make some little kids happy.”

The little kids had seemed happy to see me. I signed some jerseys and shot the breeze with some older kids and acquaintances who hadn’t realized I was back in town. I told the abridged version of my story a couple of times. I’d had a bad injury—which was true enough, there was a video on YouTube if they wanted to see it—and an opportunity in La Crosse that I couldn’t pass up.

Ryan got us registered and grabbed the swag bags. He came back with our numbers and a young kid I didn’t recognize who must be the new caddy.

“Hi, I’m Danny, your caddy,” he said, confirming my suspicions.

“You’re new here,” I said.

He nodded. “Just started at UWL. Business.”

UWL was the University of Wisconsin, La Crosse. Not exactly a destination school, so Danny must be somewhat local though I didn’t recognize him

I don’t know why I expected to recognize everybody. I hadn’t lived full-time in town in almost twenty years. Maybe it was because there were so many people I did recognize, so many of the same families as when I had been a kid, that the ones I didn’t know stuck out so strongly.

Like the foursome in the matching yellow and white polos standing near Aunt Momo and Sammy. One guy would have stuck out anywhere. With thick dark hair, a perfect jawline, and a mouth made for sin, he was incredibly handsome. Like European-model handsome. He made the yellow polo shirt look good, and I hadn’t thought anyone could do that. What he did to a pair of chinos should be illegal. I dragged my eyes away from his ass before I embarrassed myself.

Two of his companions were also striking. A handsome man in his mid-forties with salt-and-pepper hair whose eyes scanned the crowd constantly, and a huge guy who looked more like a professional wrestler than a golfer.

The fourth guy looked like half of the other golfers in the club. Somewhere between thirty and forty, the yellow clashed with his complexion, making him look washed out. His unflattering pleated khaki pants and tan and white golf shoes had

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