Read Murder for Bid for Free Online Page B

does that make you feel?”
    “It’s part of the job. I usually end up with a bigger tip.”
    This was going nowhere. “Ever caddy for the VIPs?”
    “VIPs?”
    Geez, don’t today’s teens speak English? “Very … Important … People,” I spoke slowly so he’d get it. “The important club members, you know, like Scholstein or Schmidt?” I reiterated to the blank expression on his face.
    “Oh yeah, those guys, sure.”
    “It was actually Richard Schmidt that told me I should interview you. He said you’re one of the best caddies at the club.”
    “Mr. Schmidt said that?”
    “Of course, I talked to him before … you know.”
    “Yeah.”
    “Sad, isn’t it, Jason?”
    “Really sad. I caddied for him that day.”
    Finally, we were getting somewhere. “Did he have a good game?”
    “I’d say. He shot a seventy-five.”
    “He didn’t throw any of his clubs in the pond that day, huh?”
    Another chuckle. “No, but he has before. I’ve had to fish his driver out of the pond on the seventh tons of times.”
    “Well, I suppose he has an expensive set. He’d hate to lose one.”
    “Yeah.”
    “That’s a full set of ten, isn’t it?”
    “Yup. Ten plus his new driver.”
    “New driver?”
    “Yeah. He had it custom made. It just came in a couple of weeks ago.”
    “So he was carrying eleven clubs?” I could have sworn I only counted ten.
    “Yeah. I guess he didn’t want to give up his old driver until he got used to the new one.”
    Bingo. “So, yesterday he played with eleven clubs, right?”
    “I should know. I carried them all morning.”
    “You’ve been really helpful, Jason.”
    “Really? Is your article going to be in this Sunday’s paper?”
    “It’s really hard to say. Sometimes it takes these special features a while to make their way to print. In the meantime, keep it under wraps. I’d get into big trouble if another paper got a hold of our idea, if you know what I mean?”
    “Yeah, I got it.” This time I got a raised fist and another chuckle as we tapped knuckles.
    I smiled all the way to the parking lot. It may have cost me a week’s pay, but I got some great information. In fact, I may have just figured out what the murder weapon was.
    I spied Sheila leaning against her car talking with a tall, athletically built man. Even from a distance, I could tell that Sheila was piling on the charm. The guy was probably wealthy; women like Sheila always liked to keep a spare man, just in case their rich hubby should kick the bucket. Or, maybe Sheila was a player. Who would blame her? The guy she was talking to was definitely hot and her husband … well, not so much so.
    Shelia’s gleam dimmed a bit as I approached. “Hi Sheila. I’m ready to go when you are,” I said, smiling at her friend.
    Sheila sighed before initiating a reluctant introduction, “Phillipena O’Brien, this is Greg Davis. He owns Davis Construction. I’m sure you’ve heard of his company.”
    Of course I had heard of Davis Construction; their signs were plastered in the front yard of almost every newly built residential and commercial property in town.
    So the guy was worth tons and cute, too. I shook his outstretched hand and took quick stock of his appearance. With a great body, strong features, thick wavy black hair, intense eyes, and an air that exuded confidence and power, he was almost too perfect.
    “It’s a pleasure, Phillipena.” He held my hand for a second longer than necessary, causing a warm flush to flood over my body. His full lips parted in a smile revealing perfect white teeth. “I won’t keep you ladies any longer. I’m sure you have things to do today,” he said, locking on my eyes and giving me a quick wink.
    After a brief exchange of a few more pleasantries, Greg took off across the lot in the opposite direction with Sheila staring hungrily at his backside. I did a little looking of my own. Greg D avis was one good looking man.
    “Is he married?” I asked a fter we were seated