Illusive Witness by S Y Thompson

Author:S Y Thompson [Thompson, S Y]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781619292345
Google: LGXcsgEACAAJ
Amazon: B010KM9G2A
Goodreads: 25812745
Publisher: Regal Crest Enterprises, LLC
Published: 2015-05-21T03:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

RUTH FINISHED THE eighteenth hole with a birdie. She felt delighted with her performance today. All holes except one, she had completed under par. Not too bad considering she’d spent more time lately in the hospital rather than on the golf course. Ruth knocked the head of her putter against the bottom of her shoe before returning it to the bag. The gesture didn’t really have a purpose. It was just a habit, something she’d picked up from her father when he taught her the game.

After putting the club away, Ruth hefted the golf bag off the ground and started toward the cart. She felt particularly rested and healthy today. Even the extra weight of the clubs wasn’t enough to bother her leg. Ruth stowed the clubs in the rear of the golf cart and then climbed behind the wheel. She took a moment to look around and appreciate the day. It felt like an eternity since she’d done something so simple as enjoying the moment. Several of the country club patrons she saw wore golf outfits as loud as her own.

Ruth smirked and looked down at her green and yellow striped calf-high socks. They didn’t exactly go with her knee-length blue shorts. She laughed and popped the brake on the golf cart. Ruth wiped her sweaty brow with a handkerchief with one hand while she steered toward the clubhouse with the other.

The front exterior of the club boasted a bank of darkened windows. The reflective surfaces winked at her in the bright sunshine. They called to her like a siren’s song, luring Ruth into the air conditioned interior. After a couple of hours on the golf course, a cool drink at the bar sounded nice. Out of habit caused by lingering paranoia, Ruth scanned the parking lot and the area immediately adjacent to the building.

Since it was the middle of a workday, there were few cars in the parking lot. A few men wore suits and ties and Ruth figured they were businessmen trying to squeeze in a few holes on their lunch hour. No one stood out. There weren’t any signs of murderous chauffeurs or mafia hit men. Ruth tried to find humor in the thought but she just couldn’t. Worse yet, her dreams of that terrible day on the cliff had intensified lately. Suddenly, Ruth’s mood shifted and she felt exhausted from the lack of quality sleep. Now, the sun seemed scorching hot instead of gently caressing. A car backfired somewhere and Ruth flinched, tense with apprehension.

“Maybe I’ll have more than one.”

She had never been much of a drinker, but she thought that with enough alcohol she might actually sleep through the night. A full eight hour sleep without nightmares sounded like heaven.

Ruth had just parked in front of the club and shut off the cart when her cell phone rang. She smiled when she saw the caller display. She leaned back against the seat and willed the unpleasant thoughts away while she answered the phone.

“Hey you.

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