It’s so nice when you are working with true professionals that are good at their job. The Franco bullet perfectly grazed the shoulder pad on his suit and landed square in the middle of the decorative pillow on the bed.

The Sally bullet went through her hair in the gap between her neck and her shoulder and landed on the pillow that Rory had placed on the floor.

Two perfect shots.

“Dude! That’s impressive! Are you sure you want to give them the friend discount? People pay through the nose for that type of quality work!”

Rory smiled. There was a faint smell of shit in the air.

“Okay, are you ready to reconsider?”

Sally spoke first. “What do you propose?”

I looked at Franco, “Are you going to say No again?”

He looked at me nervously, “Uhhh, no?”

“Okay, that’s on me. I need to use better phrasing. I take it you are listening to our offer?”

“Sí”

Sally spoke up again, “First, I want to know how you found us.”

You gave me all the clues. I just didn’t put them together until after you had Franco conk me in the head. I thought the Provo thing was a Fletch joke until I googled it.”

Franco offered sheepishly, “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. I understand.” I turned to Sally. “I only wish you would have trusted me enough to go along with the plan.”

“Trust you? I barely know you.”

“And yet here I am offering you a chance to stay alive, start a new life here with your Spanish aristocrat, and permanently eliminate any threats to your new family.”

She looked down. “How do I know you won’t try to blackmail us and make our lives a living hell?”

“First of all, I’m not a blackmailer.” Memories started flooding back into my brain. “Okay, I’m not a blackmailer BY PROFESSION. There’s a difference.”

“Second of all, I am a sucker for a happy ending. A hopeless romantic, if you will.”

“And third, I really don’t like the asshole lawyer, I don’t like being played for a fool, and you can afford it. Seems like a no brainer to me.”

She motioned over to Franco for him to hand over the piece of paper. He obeyed.

“That’s it?”

“Yeah. I mean, that’s pretty fair don’t you think?”

“And what does this buy us?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Let me put it this way. Would I go to jail for this?”

“You know, one of my guiding principles in life is to not ask questions I don’t want to know the answer to.”

“Fair enough.”

Sally went over to Franco and whispered something in his ear. He nodded.

“You have a deal. You take Venmo?”

“Only if you write ‘best anal sex ever’ in the comment box. Yeah, no. Cash.”

“Fine. We’ll get it in the morning.”

“Okay. Hope you two are into BDSM because we’re tying you both up and you’re sleeping here tonight. I don’t feel like getting hit by a frying pan again.”

“¡T-Fal!”

“Whatever”, I said as I pulled out the rope.

***

I hit a rope straight down the middle of the fairway. It didn’t go too high, but it was straight and it rolled for days.

“You are the poster boy for that saying, It’s better to be lucky than good!”

I laughed, “Maybe. But there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Rory pulled out his driver and hit the ball roughly 300 yards in the air. It hit a sprinkler head and bounced right about 50 feet into the rough.

“You might be right.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

He left his tee on the ground in disgust and jammed the driver in his bag. I got in the driver’s seat and waited for him to get in the cart.

“So, how was The East Coast?”

“Mission accomplished. How was Beverly Hills?”

“Easy. My friend Mark looked into the asshole. It wasn’t hard finding shit on him. A few well-placed phone calls to phone numbers in the 909 and it seems there’s now an empty office on Beverly Drive.

“You gonna move in?”

“Not my style.”

“What are you going to do with your share?”

“I suppose I could go on vacation, but I’ve had enough traveling for awhile. You?”

“Retirement plan.”

“You assassins are really smart.”

“Bet you that you can’t hit the green from here.”

“I know I can’t! What kind of bet is that?”

We saw the golf cart girl driving towards the green.

I added, “If you want a bet, I’ll bet you that you can’t hook up with the golf cart girl.”

“I only know one guy that ever did that. Dude’s a legend. Met him in South Africa.”

“No shit?”

***

“¿Hubo correo hoy?”

“Déjame checar.”

Sally got up from the lounge chair and walked over to the desk near the front door. There was a manila envelope with postage stamps from Canada and a letter postmarked from México.

She opened the envelope to find a newspaper clipping from the Buffalo News. There was nothing else inside.

“Why the hell would someone send me an ad for a chicken wing place?”

She flipped the page to the other side and let out a small gasp.

It was the obituary section. One name was highlighted in yellow.

She opened the letter. It was another newspaper clipping.

“Sam’s Hofbrau is still open?”

She again flipped the clipping over. It was the real estate section. A listing for office space in Beverly Hills was highlighted in yellow.

She walked back to the lounge chair where she had been sunning herself, “Aparentemente, funcionó.”

Sally went over to Franco and showed him both clippings.

“¿Que quiere decir esto?”

“It’s done. We’re free.”

He got up.

“¿En serio?”

She kissed him, “¡Sí, mi amor!”

***

We were tied at the 18th tee. His raw score was miles better than mine but I was playing below my handicap and since he was giving me strokes….

“Okay, what about a professional bet?”

“What do you mean?”

“I win, You help me out on a case pro bono. You win, I’ll take care of any problem you may have. No charge.”

I didn’t have anyone I wanted dead at the moment, but you never know when people will discover you’re a real asshole.

“Done!”

He shanked his next shot but got a nice up and down for par. I got my bogey and looked at the scorecard.

“That was a two stroke hole. Sorry, buddy!”

“Shit really? Dammit!”

I looked at Rory and smiled.

“Tell me what you need help on. I’ll give you the close friends and family rate in pesos.”

“I think my wife is cheating on me with a dwarf.”

“If I had a nickel…”