Evil in Paradise. R. B. Conroy

of First Bank and Trust and Dave worked as a pharmacist at a local drug store. After raising their families together, the two of them, along with their wives, Cathy and Sally, who were also best friends, decided to retire to The Villages, a huge retirement community in north central Florida. They had been living at The Villages for nearly five years. Known as the “Disney World for Adults”, life had been good for the Roberts at The Villages, at least so far.

      The deliberate Ed shaded his eyes from the nasty glare filtering between the palms and lined up his putt. Then he stroked the ball and watched it slide two feet past the hole.

      “The two-footer is good,” Dave chortled.

      “Gee, you’re all heart.”

      “Six is enough for anybody.”

      “Yeah, and you got a three footer for a four.”

      “Eat your heart out!”

      Ed had always been the better athlete of the two with his graceful motions and tall, muscular physique, but the stubby Dave wasn’t going to let that happen with golf. His short, five foot seven frame was better suited for the game than Ed’s six foot three torso. As a result, Dave had become the better golfer of the two. He maintained an impressive six handicap, while Ed’s was a respectable twelve.

      He took his stance, wiggled his backside and quickly rammed the short putt in the hole.

      “Nice putt, sandbagger. So, what do I owe you?”

      Dave slid the scorecard and small, green pencil from his back pocket, and scribbled down the scores. “Let’s see, I won three holes and you won one.”

      “So, I owe you four bucks.”

      “Not so fast, it’s double on birds, remember? I birdied the second hole.”

      Ed lifted his money clip from the mesh sack on the side of his bag and peeled off six bills and handed them to Dave.

      Dave snatched the money from his friend, the corner of his mouth turned up in a mocking grin. “You should let me give you strokes. I get tired of taking your money all the time.”

      “I like donating. You look needy.”

      Dave laughed; he loved the friendly teasing between the old friends. “I don’t have the money you have, that’s for sure.”

      “It’s a little after six, Dave, I think you’re going to make it to dinner if you get your butt in gear.”

      “Wish you could join us, buddy, we have room, you know.”

      “Thanks, Dave, but Cathy has tennis again this evening. It’s mixed doubles tonight.”

      “Mixed doubles and you’re not there?”

      “With my bad back I can’t play that game, it’s too fast. Wish I could.”

      “Cathy must love it-seems like she has a tennis match going all the time. We never see her anymore.” Dave held his eyes on his friend, begging more information.

      Ed noticed the increased attention and explained, “I know. I don’t see her much either.” Ed’s voice lacked its normal enthusiastic tone.

      Cathy was becoming more and more involved with tennis and had become one of the best female players in The Villages. As a result, their social life was suffering. At least his was. She seemed to be coming home more and more often with the smell of alcohol on her breath. When he mentioned it to her, she would just flippantly tell him that she liked to have an occasional drink with the girls after tennis, just like he liked to have a beer after golfing with the guys.

      Dave slipped off his glove and stuck it in his bag. “Sally misses Cathy.”

      “She misses you guys too. She said to tell you ‘hi’ and she hopes we can all get together soon.” Ed was spinning the truth just a little. Cathy seemed about as interested in their friends as she was in him lately. He didn’t want to offend his friend, so he fibbed.

      Dave dropped his putter in his bag and smiled, “See ya at Lopez tomorrow. Ten o’clock sharp and don’t be late. Bob and Pudge will be joining us.”

      “Am I ever late?”

      “No, and that’s because I always remind you not to be!”

      “Kiss this, shorty!” A smiling Ed jabbed his finger at his protruding backside.

      His old friend roared in laughter as he hopped in his golf cart. Ed watched him pull away from the ninth green and head for the street for his short trip home to Sunset Pointe Village. He was envious of Dave and his wife. They had a very close relationship and enjoyed doing things together. He longed for the old days when he and Cathy would play golf with Dave and Sally on Saturday afternoons and then go to dinner. Ed felt lonely as he bent over to stuff his ball and tees in his bag.

      “Hello, stranger. Where’s that foxy wife of yours?”

      Ed looked up from his bag to see a fast approaching Ann Southworth, a classmate and former girlfriend from his school boy days in Indiana. She pulled her cart close to Ed’s and jerked to a stop. Her still shapely legs extended out from under her short, pink, golf skirt. A little more than necessary, Ed thought. “How are you, Ann? What a surprise.”

      “I’m fine, just finished playing nine with Sue and Laurie. I thought I saw you over here with Dave Mann. Wasn’t that Dave?”

      “Yes, it sure was.”

      “Is Cathy doing her tennis thing this evening?” Ann was now sitting very erect in her seat, eyeing Ed with scorching intent.

      “What else?”

      Ann studied his face for a moment and then replied, “Me and the girls are going to Cane Gardens Country Club and have a drinky-pooh or two. Why don’t you join us?”

      Ed liked the ever-improving vision in front of him. The invitation sounded very tempting

      Ann noticed the hesitation. “Wouldn’t hurt to have a quick drink with some old friends, Ed. It doesn’t look like you have much else to do.”

      Ed’s relationship with Ann so many years ago had been torrid at times and he didn’t want to stir up those old feelings again. He felt it would be better to beg off and leave this situation alone. “Better not, I’m in the middle of a project at home and I need to finish it up tonight.”

      Ann batted her eyes, “All work and no play makes for a dull boy.”

      Ed smiled, “Maybe some other time, tell the girls I said hi.”

      Ann scowled, “You always were such an upright guy!” She exhaled with exasperation and laid her hand gently on his forearm. “But, we had our moments.”

      Ed’s stare locked on his old girlfriend for an instant. “Yes, we certainly did, Ann. How’s Frank doing?”

      Ann pulled her hand back, her shoulders slumped. The reference to her husband had taken the wind out of her sails. “He’s home recouping from hernia surgery.”

      “Is he going to be okay?”

      “Think so; he doesn’t say much, ya know.”

      “Tell him hi for me, will you?”

      “Sure, Ed. See you around.”

      “Good-bye, Ann.”

      Once again Ed stood and watched as an old friend pulled away from him. Alone again, he slipped the head cover over his TaylorMade driver and slid into the driver’s seat. He lifted his sunglasses from the console and stuck them on. He crammed the cart into gear and slowly accelerated down the cart path toward Sunset Pointe Boulevard. Ed and Cathy lived in Lake Miona at Bridgeport, an upscale neighborhood just north of Lake Sumter Landing, one of two large town squares in The Villages.

      A short time later, Ed exited onto Bailey Trail and, after a brief ride on Bailey, he darted left across the approaching lane and sped toward Buena Vista