And there was a place forty or fifty yards from the fairway where he could park. He had a feeling it wasnt entirely legal to park there, but any cop who felt compelled to do something about a nice big Cadillac with Oregon plates parked where it wasnt in anybodys way, well, the worst result would be a ticket, not a tow.
The only problem was that the parking spot was on the wrong side of the fairway. To get to the woods you had to cross the fairway, easy enough for Keller, but not so easy for a man with a broken leg. Keller could put an arm around Taggert and take most of his weight, but what would the two of them look like to anybody playing the hole? And you couldnt just wait until a foursome played through, not with the amount of time it would take to get Taggert across the fairway; by the time they were halfway across, the next group of golfers would be at the tee.
One man trotting across a fairway, that was nothing remarkable. Two men, one unable to walk, the other struggling
to assist him even someone as singleminded as a golfer would zoom over on his cart to see what was wrong, and what he could do to help.
And could Taggert make it across, even with support? His entire lower leg, including the knee joint, was swollen and inflamed. Theyd removed his shoe earlier, when Taggert complained that his foot had grown too large for it, and now it was larger still, twice the size of the other one.
No, the man couldnt go anywhere.
Youre going to have to wait here, Keller told him. In the trunk.
The trunk!
It wont be that uncomfortable, and you wont be in there that long. As soon as my works done, Ill run you to a hospital and you can get that taken care of.
But what if
If I dont come back?
I didnt want to say that.
Well, its possible. But theres a latch, remember? Youre the one who told me about it. For kids playing refrigerator.
How am I supposed to reach it with my hands tied behind my back?
Thats a point, Keller conceded, and clipped the wire on Taggerts wrists. It still was no easy matter getting him into the trunk, and throughout it Taggert reeled off a litany of complaints his leg was killing him, he could barely move his fingers, his shoulders felt dislocated, di dah di dah di dah.
It wont be long, Keller said. He put the shotgun on the floor of the trunk, near Taggerts swollen foot, and checked to make sure that the revolver was fully loaded.
Youre leaving me the gun?
The shotgun? I dont want to carry it around on the golf course. Too easy for somebody to spot it.
So youre leaving it with me?
Although I suppose theyd just mistake it for a four wood. But its bulky, I dont want to carry it.
There was a car coming. Keller turned so his face wouldnt show, waited for the car to pass. Meanwhile, Taggert said he was glad Keller trusted him enough to leave the shotgun with him.
Its not exactly a matter of trust, Keller said.
40
He stood in the woods halfway up the fairway of the seventh hole. Hed left his jacket in the car, and was dressed in a pair of dark slacks and a polo shirt, reasonable attire for a golf course. He didnt think anyone had seen him stride across the fairway, but if they had, thered been nothing in his appearance to set off any alarms. The question might arise as to just what he was doing there, without cart or clubs, lurking among the trees and bushes.
But then lurking was suspicious by definition, wasnt it? The trick in lurking was to appear to be doing something else, but Keller couldnt think of anything. What would anyone do there other than lurk? Well, look for a lost golf ball, he thought, but the companionable thing to do when you came upon someone so engaged was to help him look for it, and that was the last thing he wanted.
Best, then, not to be noticed at all. And so he kept himself deep enough in the woods to pass unnoticed, surfacing now and then to inspect each arriving group of golfers, making sure Wheeler was not one of their number, and then slipping back once again into the shadows.
In Arizona Tucson, not Sedona Keller had once rented a house on a golf course. He hadnt been interested in either the house or the game, but it was the only way he could find to gain access to his quarrys gated community. (If its residents were all bisexual, Dot had suggested, you might call it a double-gaited community.) His one-month sublet had brought with it membership in the on-premises country club, and access to its championship golf course. Keller had made use of the clubs bar and restaurant and hobnobbed with its golfer members, without ever quite managing to pick up a golf club or set foot on the course.
Of course hed watched the sport on television, though never with enormous enthusiasm. He found it more bearable than basketball or hockey, if less involving than football or baseball. The scenery, undulating expanses of green enlivened by tan sand traps shaped like amoebas, was restful to look at, and the announcers spoke in low tones, and sometimes even kept their mouths shut. The only way to improve on something like that, Keller sometimes thought, was to turn off the set altogether.