“You got it,” Valerian said with a smile. He’d finished the last of the mild renos to his new house last weekend. All he intended to do this weekend was golf and chill. He wasn’t going to even think about work or the serial killer called the Angel-Maker for the next forty-eight hours.
One
“The kitchen’s done, boss. So unless you need my help with something else, I’m headed out.”
Natalie glanced up from the architectural drawings spread out on the table in front of her and scowled at the pretty strawberry blonde weaving her way through the half dozen other tables in the golf club’s large lower dining room to reach her. “Jeez, Jan. I hate it when you call me boss.”
“I know,” Jan said. A mischievous grin pulling at her lips, she added, “That’s why I do it.”
The words startled a laugh out of Natalie and she shook her head at the woman who was both her assistant chef and friend.
“So . . . ?” Jan stopped at the corner table where Natalie had set up and raised her eyebrows. “Is there anything you need help with before I go?”
“No. I’m good,” Natalie assured her, and didn’t miss the relief in her friend’s face at her answer. She wasn’t surprised. It was Friday night, after all, and she knew Jan and her husband, Rick, had a date night planned. A 10 p.m. showing at one of the movie theaters in the city and a late dinner were apparently on the agenda.
“Are you going to close up now?” Jan asked, her gaze sliding over the drawings Natalie had been making changes to.
“Soon,” Natalie assured her as she began to roll up the large sheets of paper. “Just waiting for Mr. MacKenzie to finish his round before Tim and I mow.”
“The mysterious Mr. MacKenzie,” Jan said, waggling her eyebrows.
“Mysterious?” Natalie asked with amusement.
“He books and pays for his eighteen holes online, and never steps foot in the club. None of us have even seen the man except from a distance.”
“Roy sees him,” Natalie corrected her. “He gives him the keys to his golf cart when he shows up.”
“Yeah. Roy.” She wrinkled her nose. “But the old coot won’t tell us anything about the guy. What he looks like. If he’s nice or not. Nothing. You should really let me swap jobs with Roy one of these nights so I can give Mr. MacKenzie the keys. Then I could give you the scoop.”
“Roy in the kitchen?” Natalie asked with horror. “No. Never gonna happen.”
Jan gave a fake scowl that quickly gave way to a grin. “That would be pretty bad.”
Natalie didn’t bother to comment, her mind was taken up with imagining that scenario. Roy was old, ornery, and not someone she’d want holding a cleaver in the pressure cooker that was the kitchen at busy hour.
“It’s a shame, though,” Jan said now. “I’m really curious about our Mr. MacKenzie. I mean, what kind of man picks a sunset tee time?”
“It’s probably when he gets off work,” Natalie said with a shrug.
“Then why not golf in the morning, before he goes into work?” Jan said. “It has to be better than starting the course at twilight and then finishing it in full darkness, for heaven’s sake. That’s crazy! How does he even see his balls?”
Natalie opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Jan narrowed her eyes and snapped, “And don’t say he drops his drawers and bends his head to look down. You know I’m talking golf balls.”
“You spoil all my fun,” Natalie complained on a laugh, and then said more seriously, “But what I was going to say is that I think he uses glow in the dark golf balls.”
“Oh.” Jan blinked. “Do they have those?”
“Apparently.” Natalie stood and began to slide the drawings into the cardboard tube that protected them when she wasn’t making adjustments to them.
“Why?” Jan asked with amazement. “I mean . . . glow in the dark balls? Surely there aren’t a lot of people golfing in the dark who might need them?”
“Actually, I gather night golfing is a thing in some places. I was reading an article about it and there are night golf courses in a lot of areas.”
“Where?” Jan asked with open disbelief.
“Texas, Florida, Utah, Massachusetts,” Natalie listed off. “There were other states mentioned, but I can’t remember them all.”
“None in Canada, though?” Jan asked. “Besides us, I mean.”
“I’m not sure if there are any in Canada or not. The article I read was on American night golfing and the different places that offer it there,” Natalie explained. “Anyway, we aren’t really a night golf course ourselves. Those are all lit up with floodlights once the sun sets, and we don’t do that. We just happen to have a client who likes to golf in the dark.”
“And holds you up every night he does since you insist on waiting for him to finish before you mow the course,” Jan pointed out with a scowl. “I don’t know why you let him book so late.”
“Because he spends a mint here,” Natalie said patiently. “Valerian MacKenzie has booked for eighteen holes five or six times a week, every week since the end of June, and he rents a golf cart every single time.”
“Yeah,” Jan breathed, sounding resigned. But then she shook her head. “I wonder why he doesn’t just buy a membership. That would have been a lot cheaper than paying every time.”
“I know.” Natalie frowned as she put the lid on the tube. “I did email and tell him that if he intended to continue to golf that often through the summer, a membership would be cheaper, but he continued to book online so I guess he doesn’t care about the cost of—Why are you smiling at me like that?” she interrupted herself to ask.
“Because I’m pretty sure you’re the only golf course owner in the world who would try to save a customer money at your own expense. His getting a membership would have cut into your profits and still you suggested it to him to save him money.” Her smile widened. “It makes me proud to call you friend.”
The words surprised another laugh from Natalie, but she didn’t comment other than to say, “You should get going. Rick’s probably foaming at the mouth waiting on you.”
“Yeah.” Jan glanced at her wristwatch before nodding and turning to thread her way back through the tables, but this time toward the smaller, upper dining room where the reception desk and exit were. “All righty, then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” Natalie agreed. “Have fun tonight.”
“You betcha,” Jan responded easily, but then paused as she reached the screen door and swung back. “I almost forgot.” Eyebrows rising in question, she asked, “A grocery list for the market in the morning?”
“Already emailed it to you,” Natalie assured her, and then set down the tube and started around the table, saying, “But that reminds me . . . Wait here a sec.” Not wanting to hold up the woman any longer than necessary, she didn’t take the time to explain, but simply hurried into her office. After a quick dig through her purse, she returned to the dining area, holding out an envelope. “For you.”