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The couple joined the line at the table together, but when it was their turn to register only Dave signed up. Sandy stepped aside, joining the folks who were watching the contest. There was a definite buzz among the crowd when Dave stepped up to the tee; his prowess was well known among the town’s golfers.
“He got a bunch of holes-in-one last summer,” Lucy heard someone say.
“What’s his handicap?” asked another.
“I dunno. Must be pretty good,” responded the first, only to be hushed by a couple of others as Dave pulled a club from his bag.
He was well aware of his reputation and started to ham it up a bit, beginning with some stretches and then taking a few practice swings. The swings grew broader as the crowd began responding, cheering him on. Dave was clearly enjoying himself, putting on quite a show until, suddenly, he gave an extra wide swing and his club hit his bag, which was propped by his side on two extendable supports. It fell over with a clunking sound, a couple of irons slid out, followed ever so slowly by a rolling object. Not a golf ball, it was the missing Karl Klaus egg.
Chapter Eight
Unfortunately for Dave, it just happened that Barney Culpepper was taking a break from parking lot duty and was passing by the contest on his way to the clubhouse, where he planned to use the restroom and get a coffee. Hearing the sudden silence as everyone reacted to the unexpected and shocking sight, he paused to investigate. That’s when he noticed the stolen egg, nestled in a tuft of bright green spring grass, gleaming in the sunshine.
“What have we got here?” he demanded, marching right up to the egg and pointing at it. By now everybody was talking, murmuring among themselves. As for Lucy, she knew news when she saw it and had immediately pulled out her phone and was snapping photos of the egg and the encounter between Dave and Barney.
“I don’t know,” sputtered Dave, who seemed shocked and was quick to defend himself. “It just rolled out of my bag. I don’t know how it got there. I didn’t, I wouldn’t steal it. I’d never do such a thing. Somebody must’ve put it in my bag. Hiding it. That’s the only explanation.”
“Well, mebbe that’s true and mebbe it isn’t,” said Barney. “I’m afraid you’re gonna have to come down to the station with me. First I gotta secure the scene,” he added, calling for backup on his radio.
Dave wisely decided that the less he said, the better, so he simply stood with Barney, waiting for reinforcements to arrive. His wife, Sandy, was beside him, supposedly offering support but with a resentful expression. The contest was halted but most of the bystanders remained, curious to see what happened next. They didn’t have long to wait before Officer Todd Kirwan arrived, along with his cousin Officer Sally Kirwan. They ordered everyone to move back and began laying yellow crime scene tape around the golf bag and the egg. When they finished they suggested everyone move along, insisting there was “nothing more to see here, folks.”
Meanwhile, Barney led Dave away quietly while everyone was watching the other officers secure the scene with tape. Lucy noticed he hadn’t handcuffed Dave, who was cooperating, but he did keep a firm hand on his upper arm. Dave clearly had a lot of explaining to do.
The crowd was beginning to disperse when Dave’s wife, Sandy, suddenly burst loudly into tears. “He’s innocent! How can they do this? It’s police brutality, that’s what it is.”
Lucy somewhat cynically decided to take advantage of the moment, hoping to get some insight into this shocking development. Remembering that Franny had played on the same foursome with Sandy, she grabbed her by the hand and pulled her along to console Sandy. Stepping beside the weeping woman, Lucy patted her on the back. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m sure it will all be straightened out at the station.”
“That’s right,” cooed Franny, handing her a tissue. “He’ll be back home in time for lunch.”
“I hope so,” sobbed Sandy, using the tissue to dab at her eyes. “I can’t imagine our home without him. He could go to prison for years!”
“There, there,” offered Lucy, shocked that Sandy had already tried and convicted her husband.
“What am I going to tell my folks?” she asked, shoulders shaking. “That my husband is a thief?”
“Of course not,” said Lucy. “He’s not a thief. There’s some innocent explanation.”
“But I just don’t know what it could be,” admitted Sandy, swallowing thickly and shaking her head. “And I’ve noticed things lately. He’s not quite himself, and he struggles to remember things. Misses appointments, you know, and misplaces things. I found his dirty socks in the freezer!”
“Early onset dementia?” asked Lucy.
“I’m so afraid,” whispered Sandy. “What’s going to happen to us?”
“Now, now,” clucked Franny. “It may just be a vitamin deficiency. No need to panic.”
“And there are new treatments all the time,” added Lucy.
“I’m so confused,” admitted Sandy. “I don’t know what to do. Should I go to the station?”
“Probably not,” advised Lucy. “If they’re questioning him they won’t let you see him.”
“If I were you,” suggested Franny, “I’d call a lawyer.”
Sandy’s eyes widened. “A lawyer! Won’t that make things worse? It’s like admitting guilt, isn’t it?”
“Just to be on the safe side,” said Franny, patting her hand.
“To protect his rights,” added Lucy, dropping her phone in her bag and shouldering it. She had breaking news and needed to get back to the office. “I’ve got to go,” she said, checking with Franny.
