The next morning I tucked NB back into our room at the resort and loitered out the back entrance of the building, waiting for Tony. The sun had already heated the air, and I fanned my face with my hand. My blood wasn't used to these temperatures. How long would it take me to adjust?

"You ready?" Tony asked, walking up to me wearing a pair of super dark sunglasses. He wore a light blue T-shirt with sleeves that strained against his arms, and a pair of long khaki shorts. It's the most laid-back I'd ever seen the man dressed. It didn't fit him, exactly, yet it also did. He looked good, relaxed. But still scary.

I pointed at his sunglasses. "I need some of those."

"Yeah, you do," he said. "If you keep squinting like that, you're going to get wrinkles. Don't women worry about that kind of shit?"

What? I forced my eyes to open wider. They rebelled as the sun's rays hit them and tried to fry them in their sockets. "You're sassy lately. I'm not sure I like it."

It's like being shot in the chest made him comfortable saying whatever he had on his mind at the moment. Tony wasn't one to curb his comments normally, but this new Tony had higher limits.

"It's the sunshine," he said, holding out his arm for me to loop mine through. A woman driving a white golf cart and wearing nothing but a black string bikini drove past us on the sidewalk. Tony lowered his sunglasses to watch her as she drove away. "And the bikinis."

"You're impossible," I said and started toward our destination. Tony stared for another full second and then followed me when our joined arms jerked him forward. "Word on the street is that Harold likes to hit balls on Sunday mornings."

He shuddered. "Let's never say it like that again."

Seriously, who was this guy?

"Regardless of the balls, we're going to sneak into the clubhouse and watch him. If he's not cheating on the course, he'll have great swings today."

"Do you know what a great golf swing looks like?" Tony asked as the clubhouse came into view.

I squeezed his arm with mine. "Stop asking so many unimportant questions."

"Fine, but I don't think we have to do any sneaking. They allow you to rent equipment in the clubhouse. We'll just grab a bucket of balls and hit a few."

We walked up the steps to the main clubhouse door. "You can do that? Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I checked the website," Tony said, sounding way too proud of himself. Why didn't I think of that? Oh, right, because I had fifty thousand other things on my mind. "Have you ever done this before?"

"Hit a ball with a stick?" I asked, walking through the clubhouse doors as he held them open. "Not really, but it seems like a great way to release some aggression."

Tony stopped at the desk and the person behind the counter pointed to an area past a set of oversized patio doors. I opened the door as Tony nodded at them. "We get our balls outside."

I snickered but kept my mouth shut. "Great."

The long wall against the building's side had a cutout in it with a person stationed behind it. Tony walked that way as I scanned the area, searching for Harold. So, this was a driving range? It didn't seem all that great for an island of rich people. The outside section had a large overhang keeping our area covered. Small green stations gave each person an individual space to work on their swing. Beyond the covered space was a long section of green grass littered with white balls.

Two golfers in matching striped outfits practiced their swings at a far station. Behind them, a long wall with three closed doors blocked some of the sun from our eyes.

"You see your guy?" Tony asked as he returned to me, carrying two golf clubs and a wire bucket loaded up with white golf balls.

I shook my head. "Nope, but he should be here any minute. His girlfriend said it's his ritual."

Unless he was cheating on his girlfriend, and then I had a completely different problem to handle.

"What do you want to do?" Tony asked, leaning against the wall a few feet from where he bought the balls.

I bit the inside of my cheek in thought. We'd have to wait it out and see if he showed up.

A tall guy with a pompadour and purple sunglasses walked into the driving range area. He had on white pants and a yellow shirt. Tony and I both raised an eyebrow. He either didn't belong here at all or was the richest person on the island. You never could tell.

"Harold is waiting for you in the back," the guy behind the hole in the wall said as he walked past.

He gave him a salute of thanks and opened the first closed door along the wall. I stretched my neck to see inside the room, but the brightly dressed man slipped in so quickly my eyes didn't have time to adjust and make anything out.

"Harold is meeting a guy in the back room?" I whispered.

Tony chortled. "Get your mind out of the gutter."

"What?" My comment and his response hit me. I pinched the top of his arm. "Get your mind out of the gutter."

We stared at the door in silence. "What do you think they're doing back there?"

"You don't want me to answer that right now," Tony said, holding back a laugh.

I rolled my eyes. Men. If Harold had a way of cheating at golf, it had to be happening in that room where they had privacy. "I have to get back there."

"Obviously."

There also wasn't time to waste. They could be developing their evil plans right this second. "Cover for me," I said, pushing away from Tony.

"How do I do that?" he asked with alarm.

I threw my hands up. My word. I had to do everything for these men. "I can't play golf under these conditions, Tony. If you need to use the bathroom, do that before you pee yourself."

Tony's face turned red as the couple stopped practicing their swings on the edge of the room to stare at him. The man behind the wall turned too, and that's when I made my move.

With my back to the door, I put my hand behind me and twisted the handle, slipping into the room backward.

"This room is reserved," a male's voice called out as I turned around.

My eyes widened. "Oh."

Harold had a golf club in his hand as he bent over a small square of fake indoor/outdoor carpet. In front of him, a huge projection screen flashed with images of a golf course. The unnamed man in the yellow shirt had himself stretched over his back with his hands covering Harold's on the golf club.

I backed away and hit the closed door. "Sorry, I didn't realize."

"I'm filled with appointments today, sweetheart," the yellow shirt man said. "But for a face like yours I can work you in later this week."

"Um." I blinked and then did it again. What was he talking about?

"You want lessons. Right?" he asked and then stepped away from Harold when I didn't respond. "Give me a second with our new friend, Harold. I won't subtract it from your time."

Harold nodded and gave me a long, cool gaze as he walked past to leave the room. I jumped out of his way and narrowly avoided getting hit with the door.

"Unless you're here for another reason," he said as he met me in the middle of the room.

I leaned back as he drew closer, like he wanted to sniff my neck. "I don't even know your name."

He laughed. "Blue."

The door to the room opened, letting in a streak of light that was immediately blacked out by a body. "Get the fuck away from her," Tony said and charged at us.

I held out my hand. "Calm down. Blue is giving Harold golf lessons. At least, that's what I assume with all of this." I waved my hand at the screen behind us.

He nodded. "Harold is one of my best students. He's shown incredible promise, and his checks always cash."

"What kind of promise?" I asked, grabbing my cell phone and taking a few secret shots of the setup.

Blue picked up the club he'd left beside a random chair. "Harold's been with me for six months, and we've lowered his score by five entire swings. He's my biggest success story."

He considered five swings a success story. I clearly didn't understand golf.

"He likes to keep it in the backroom so no one can see. I think he's embarrassed about his left slice."

I had other ideas of why he wanted to keep his lessons secret. So, his golfing buddies like Bert wouldn't find out. What a ridiculous situation. He wasn't cheating at anything, just practicing.

Tony and I pretended to consider using Blue for golf lessons until Harold returned to the room a few minutes later. We said our good-byes after I snapped a selfie with Blue.

"I can't believe it," I said to Tony as we left our borrowed clubs and bucket of balls by the window. "He wasn't cheating at all."

Tony laughed. "What did you expect?"

"I don't know." I shrugged. "Some kind of fancy AI robot or something. You never know with the super-rich people. They have access to shit we haven't even thought of."

"At least you solved the mystery. What's next?"

I slowed my steps as we walked out of the clubhouse. "Why do you think there's something next?"

"Princess, there's always something next," he said, lowering his sunglasses over his eyes again.

Him being two steps ahead of me was starting to get annoying, but since he was already here, I'd make him a sidekick. "Larken is meeting a potential new client on the mainland in two hours. I need to get into her place."

"How do you know the time?"

We turned and walked toward Larken's building. "Because I'm the potential new client and I don't plan on showing up." It was the oldest trick in the book.

Tony smirked. "I might have a way to get you inside."