Post and
Courier , something caught his attention.
The headline read, “Golfers, Say Good-bye to Bird’s
Bay . ” There was a
picture of two men underneath. The man on the left, the older of
the two, was Hammond Callahan, Gina’s father.
The man on the right, as captioned beneath,
was Rowe Tinsley. Dewey didn’t recognize the name, but he certainly
recognized the face. “Where have I seen you before?” he said,
setting the open paper down on his lap and taking a bite of the
sandwich.
He looked back down at the photo. The man
looked to be around Dewey’s age—just under the hill. He was
celebrity handsome and had a confident half-smile that showed he
knew it. His hair was cut very short and showed some graying around
the ears.
Dewey enjoyed another bite without taking
his eyes off the photo. It was the gray sideburns that finally
triggered the memory. He sat up and jabbed his finger at the man’s
head. “It was early today! In the park!”
In fact, Dewey had taken a picture of him.
Rowe Tinsley had been walking alone in the park, wearing suit pants
and a white button-down. It looked like he’d just taken off his
tie.
Dewey’s day just got a lot better.
CHAPTER 8
“ Rowe Tinsley. Are you my
guy?” Dewey stared long and hard at the man in the photo. “I bet
you didn’t count on me having a photographic memory. I’m going to
get you, you little dirt eater.”
Dewey read the article. Over the past two
months, he had read several like it, discussing the details of
Bird’s Bay and its possible development into a luxury community
with stand-alone homes, condos, parks, a marina, and retail and
restaurant spaces. Dewey had a vested interest, as he loved the
game of golf and had been playing since he was four. Matter of
fact, he’d been playing Bird’s Bay for more than thirty years.
Dewey played in high school but didn’t bother with the College
team. He liked to think he could have made it. Though his size kept
him from being a big hitter, his short game was top-notch. Or at
least it used to be.
He didn’t get out as much as he used to, but
when he did, Bird’s Bay was high on the list. It was the best
inexpensive course in the state. Many of the holes were right on
the harbor. Not to mention, it was the closest course to downtown
Charleston, so it was easily the most popular. He understood how
controversial ripping it up could be.
Rowe Tinsley, the article stated, was
Hammond Callahan’s right-hand man at Brightside Development. With
some very slick maneuvering, Brightside had managed to convince the
state to move the public golf course to another piece of land.
Since 1958, Bird’s Bay had been owned by the people of South
Carolina. The terms created at the time did not allow for the
property to ever be sold or developed save one condition: a land
swap. Supposedly, the written terms were quite vague when it came
to the swap, but if a property of equal or greater value was
swapped for Bird’s Bay, it could be allowed.
A year before, Brightside Development, with
the help of several sizeable investors, had purchased 284 acres
north of Mt. Pleasant, off Highway 17. They’d agreed to build a
brand-new golf course and swap the entire property for the land
hosting the golf course and bird sanctuary on Bird’s Bay. The state
would keep the land, along with the water associated with the
retired battleship. The reason the state was about to agree was
because of that battleship. The Navy had publicly and formally
requested a much-needed renovation of the ship, which had become a
mainstay and serious tourist attraction for Charleston County.
The renovations were estimated to cost
upwards of one hundred million dollars, an amount the state could
never pay back based on the current income of the battleship
tourism and the golf course. Brightside Development and its
investors, as part of the land swap deal, had agreed to absorb half
the cost of the renovations. As Hammond was quoted as saying
halfway down
Courier , something caught his attention.
The headline read, “Golfers, Say Good-bye to Bird’s
Bay . ” There was a
picture of two men underneath. The man on the left, the older of
the two, was Hammond Callahan, Gina’s father.
The man on the right, as captioned beneath,
was Rowe Tinsley. Dewey didn’t recognize the name, but he certainly
recognized the face. “Where have I seen you before?” he said,
setting the open paper down on his lap and taking a bite of the
sandwich.
He looked back down at the photo. The man
looked to be around Dewey’s age—just under the hill. He was
celebrity handsome and had a confident half-smile that showed he
knew it. His hair was cut very short and showed some graying around
the ears.
Dewey enjoyed another bite without taking
his eyes off the photo. It was the gray sideburns that finally
triggered the memory. He sat up and jabbed his finger at the man’s
head. “It was early today! In the park!”
In fact, Dewey had taken a picture of him.
Rowe Tinsley had been walking alone in the park, wearing suit pants
and a white button-down. It looked like he’d just taken off his
tie.
Dewey’s day just got a lot better.
CHAPTER 8
“ Rowe Tinsley. Are you my
guy?” Dewey stared long and hard at the man in the photo. “I bet
you didn’t count on me having a photographic memory. I’m going to
get you, you little dirt eater.”
Dewey read the article. Over the past two
months, he had read several like it, discussing the details of
Bird’s Bay and its possible development into a luxury community
with stand-alone homes, condos, parks, a marina, and retail and
restaurant spaces. Dewey had a vested interest, as he loved the
game of golf and had been playing since he was four. Matter of
fact, he’d been playing Bird’s Bay for more than thirty years.
Dewey played in high school but didn’t bother with the College
team. He liked to think he could have made it. Though his size kept
him from being a big hitter, his short game was top-notch. Or at
least it used to be.
He didn’t get out as much as he used to, but
when he did, Bird’s Bay was high on the list. It was the best
inexpensive course in the state. Many of the holes were right on
the harbor. Not to mention, it was the closest course to downtown
Charleston, so it was easily the most popular. He understood how
controversial ripping it up could be.
Rowe Tinsley, the article stated, was
Hammond Callahan’s right-hand man at Brightside Development. With
some very slick maneuvering, Brightside had managed to convince the
state to move the public golf course to another piece of land.
Since 1958, Bird’s Bay had been owned by the people of South
Carolina. The terms created at the time did not allow for the
property to ever be sold or developed save one condition: a land
swap. Supposedly, the written terms were quite vague when it came
to the swap, but if a property of equal or greater value was
swapped for Bird’s Bay, it could be allowed.
A year before, Brightside Development, with
the help of several sizeable investors, had purchased 284 acres
north of Mt. Pleasant, off Highway 17. They’d agreed to build a
brand-new golf course and swap the entire property for the land
hosting the golf course and bird sanctuary on Bird’s Bay. The state
would keep the land, along with the water associated with the
retired battleship. The reason the state was about to agree was
because of that battleship. The Navy had publicly and formally
requested a much-needed renovation of the ship, which had become a
mainstay and serious tourist attraction for Charleston County.
The renovations were estimated to cost
upwards of one hundred million dollars, an amount the state could
never pay back based on the current income of the battleship
tourism and the golf course. Brightside Development and its
investors, as part of the land swap deal, had agreed to absorb half
the cost of the renovations. As Hammond was quoted as saying
halfway down
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