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Sara Tennant arrived at her office building in don Miami promptly at seven forty-five AM, as was her habit She needed only to park her car and use the private elevator to the penthouse suite of Jimenez Properties; she would be at her desk in the little office next to that of her boss, Manuel Jiht o’clock, as was his habit

As she parked her new Toyota Avalon in the reserved space, next to that of her boss, she was surprised and not a little annoyed to see that his Mercedes was already in its spot She was going to have to start co there before she did

There was so of her recent sleep Until she had hercoffee, a double espresso, she would not think quickly She sat in the Toyota with the ure it out

The lights, she decided The interior lights of the Mercedes were on, and unless she turned theathered her small briefcase, purse, coffee therled out of her car She set her things down on the driver’s seat and s forward to reading Carl Hiassen’s colu any real work She loved Hiassen, read all his novels, too, and never missed his column

She gathered her things once again, closed the car door, and pressed the button on the remote control to lock all the doors and the trunk Soe, in spite of the security cae with a uard on duty s, she walked around Manny’s car and saw ihts were on: the driver’s door was open She took another step or two, reaching out for the door, then she peered over the things in her arms and sahat they had concealed until now

Manny Jie floor in an oddly contorted position

Heart attack! Sara thought immediately She had taken a CPR course at her church, and she knew exactly what to do She put her things on the garage floor, reached out to Manny, and turned him over Manny had not had a heart attack A heart attack did not put a hole in his head, and particularly, did not spray his blood and brains across the inside of the Mercedes door Sara did not pause to take Manny’s pulse or put her ear to his chest He was stiff as a board, and she knehat that s and ran for the elevator As soon as she had opened the door with her key, she was digging in her briefcase for her cellphone

Steven Steinberg stood on the eighteenth tee of the Doral Country Club’s faazed down the fairway, utterly relaxed and confident He had played this sch to take hishad an official handicap of six, and even though he should have carried a card that said three, he had allowed his guest to play him neck and neck for seventeen holes They were now tied at eleven over par, and it was tiister

Steinberg took his stance, his right foot back a couple of extra inches, and without a practice swing, hit the ball It started to the right, then turned over and dropped into the middle of the fairway, two hundred and seventy yards down the course

Fleischman stared after the ball with an expression of disbelief on his face

“So asked

“Nothing at all,” Fleischhtily at the ball and sliced it into a fairway bunker, two hundred and twenty yards down the fairway He picked up his tee “So how co me?”

Steinberg shrugged “Every now and then I really connect Don’t you, sometimes?”

“Sohteenth, and not for that kind of length”

They got into Steinberg’s custoolf cart “You knohat I’d do if I were you?” he said to his guest

“No, Steven, ould you do?”

“I’d take a seven wood and go for it”

“Out of a bunker?”

“Why not? It’s a shallow bunker; there’s enough loft on a seven wood to carry the edge, and you’d find yourself a nice little wedge froot a seven wood? You want to borrow enerous