by Jim Riley
"You have to make a good impression in your debut. Better than Jimbo did. I understand that. Central will want a winner for its next coach."
Delrie walked up to the desk and grabbed two files. Niki knew those had nothing to do with football practice.
"I have to go," he said.
"I think you'd better have a seat. If you don't, you won't like what I will do."
"What are you talking about?"
"You told me Saturday you and a student were involved in a relationship."
"I never said that," Delrie responded, his body language showing nothing but fear and dread despite his verbal denial.
"You might as well have. Just like now, I can read you like the Sunday comics. Large print and full-color."
Delrie sank in a visitor's chair. He placed the two folders back on the desk without bothering with the loose papers that fell out of them.
"You can't prove anything," he mumbled.
“I don't have to prove anything. After this fiasco with Billy, don't you think an anonymous tip to the school board will be taken seriously? In my experience, at first a relationship like yours is very low key. Then one or both of you get careless. You send an email or a text telling her how you can't wait to see her. She responds on her tablet or phone about how much she is looking forward to it.”
Delrie turned the color of an oyster. A pale whitish gray. His expression looked as if he had eaten one of the slimy creatures, and it did not go down well.
Niki continued. "With what the school board is facing with Billy, they won't hesitate to subpoena your cell phone, your emails, and tablets. What will they find on those, Ricky?"
"Nothing," he replied, but he could not have convinced a third-grader with his delivery.
"Here's the deal," Niki countered. "Either you fess up or the school board gets an email right after I leave this office."
"Why are you doing this to me?" Delrie's voice weak.
"Because you are taking advantage of a young lady that may or may not have the ability to make an adult decision. Plus, I need to know if your activities involve Flavia Foster."
"No," Delrie shouted. "I didn't get her pregnant. I've never touched her. You can't put that one on me. That's all Billy."
"And he has been arrested, dragged through the mud, and has his integrity in shambles. Do you want to be next?"
Delrie staggered backwards. He buried his head in his hand. For several long minutes, he kept it there. When he looked up at Niki, his complexion had turned a dark gray and his eyes had streaks of red running in every direction.
“What do you want me to do?” He finally asked.
"Tell me the name of the girl."
"I can't." The young coach vigorously shook his head. "Let's leave her out of this."
"Too late for that, Coach. You’re the one that got her involved. Not me."
"Why do you want to drag her through this mess? She is innocent."
"I agree," Niki nodded. "She is innocent. But she will need professional counseling. She has been raped by someone she respected."
"I didn't—"
"Yes, you did. She is too young to consent to a relationship with you. In this state, it means you raped her. My guess is it wasn't only once. I'm also guessing she wasn’t the first."
"But—" Delrie could not think of a viable response. His whole future evaporated in a matter of minutes.
"Who is the girl this time?" Niki insisted.
"He'll kill me if I tell you. He won't hesitate if he finds out what I did with his daughter. I'm a dead man."
Niki did not have to think long to figure out the father of the victim.
"You’re having sex with John David Slocum's daughter?" Niki was incredulous.
Delrie nodded, his head once again buried in his hands.
"You are one stupid prick. I wouldn’t give you much of a chance of living until the game on Friday. Why did you pick her?"
"Paula. That's her name." Delrie's voice was barely audible. "She's not like most airheads here at Central. She is mature, way beyond her years. We just hit it off. Kinda like it was meant to be. Before I knew it, we crossed the line. I couldn't quit. I tried, but I couldn't."
"You dumb bastard. Maybe you should start thinking with your big head." She paused. "If that is possible for you."
Tears flowed down the macho coach's face.
"I'm totally screwed. Just when I get my big chance, I get screwed."
"You're not the one that got screwed. Literally screwed. Can you stop for one minute feeling sorry for yourself and think how this will affect Paula Slocum? She is the victim in your relationship. Not you."
Delrie had never thought about how a conversation like this might go. He never considered being in this position. But now reality was slapping him in the face with an open palm.
"What do I do? Are you going to the police?" He was silently begging.
"I should. I started to go there this morning. But I needed to make sure Flavia was not involved. Now I'm convinced she isn't."
"Does that mean you won't tell anyone what I've done?" A flicker of hope flashed across Delrie's countenance.
"No, I'm not," Niki said.
"Thank you." Relief suddenly flooded the coach's body. A bit of color returned.
"Don't thank me yet. You haven't heard the terms yet."
"What terms?" The color again faded.
"First, you will enroll in a sexual rehabilitation program. You will have to complete the course in a satisfactory manner. Do you understand?"
"I don't have enough money for that. I'm an assistant football coach at a high school. I can't afford one of those programs."
"I'll give you a loan for a second mortgage on your house. You will pay me back after you graduate from the program."
"Why would you do that?"
"Because you need help. Professional help. I could have you sent directly to Angola, but they would give you a different kind of program."
"Thank you," the coach said.
"Not yet. You haven't heard the rest of the terms."
Delrie blanched. He looked up at the private investigator, saying nothing.
"You will also pay for professional counseling for Paula Slocum. Actually, I will pay for it and you will pay me back."
"I can't—"
"You don't have a choice. You are in no position to negotiate."
"Is that all?" Defeat resonated in his voice.
“No.” Niki stared at him. “After you and Paula complete your respective programs, you will go to the district attorney and confess everything you did.”
"But they'll still send me to Angola."
"Maybe," Niki nodded. "I can't control that. I believe the DA will look favorably on your voluntary enrollment in a rehabilitation program and your willingness to pay for professional counseling for Paula. But I can't guarantee how favorable his reaction will be."
"What about Sleazy? When he finds out, I won't have a chance. He’ll make sure of that."
Niki leaned back.
"I truly haven't thought about it. I only found out he had a daughter at Central High when you told me Saturday. I never dreamed you were stupid enough to get involved with John David Slocum's little girl. I didn't think anyone could be that dumb."
59
Central
Niki watched the cheerleaders go through their routines. Despite being pregnant, Flavia Foster was superb, flawless in timing, more athletic than any other girl. The teenager saw Niki sitting in the makeshift stands and did her best to ignore the private investigator.
After forty-five minutes, the cheerleader could no longer stand the constant gaze. She grabbed up her pom-poms and raced to the girls’ locker room, leaving the other members without explanation. They stared at their leader as she disappeared in the building.
Niki did not follow Flavia into the locker room. She did not need to do so. When Flavia emerged, Niki waited by her car. The strawberry blonde leaned against the driver’s side door.
"We need to talk. Your little game is about to fall apart."
"I'm not playing a game. Coach Bailey abused me, and now he has to pay."
"Flavia, the test tomorrow was show Coach Bailey is not the father of your child. It will prove he can’t be. What will you do then?"
The cheerleader stopped, a dazed look spreading across her forehead. Her hesitant movements indicated to the private investigator that despite her poise, Flavia never planned for this situation.
"The test might be wrong."
"According to our expert, they never have been. DNA is a proven science, better than fingerprints. You and I both know the test tomorrow will exclude Coach Bailey as a possibility of fathering your child."
"It could still be wrong," the teenager had no other argument.
"Why don't you tell me who the real father is? We can avoid some embarrassing moments for you if you tell the truth now."
"I am telling the truth. Why don't you believe me?"
"Because of Coach Bailey's reaction to finding out the test will be performed. Because of your reaction to the same news. It doesn't take a detective to figure out which one wants to see the results."
"You can take your test and shove it. I won't take it. You can't make me."
"You're right. I can't make you, but the judge can. He has ordered for you to comply. You don't get to choose to cooperate. You have to submit to the test."
"Why are you doing this to me? What are you after?"
"The truth," Niki sighed. "A good man may go to jail this Friday unless I can find the truth. That's why I need your help. I don't think you're in this alone. Someone is helping you with the charade."
"I can't help you. I'm telling the truth."
"The test tomorrow will tell the truth. Why don't you end this? Tell me what is going on with your story."
Flavia went to the other side of the Ford Mustang and slid to the other side. She positioned herself behind the steering wheel. In less than one minute, she left a deeply disappointed private investigator alone in the parking lot.
60
Zachary
The gray F150 pickup pulled out of Fenwood Drive a little after eight o'clock. Drexel did not try to hide his presence. He drove within two car lengths of the truck and followed the familiar path to Florida Boulevard and then to the hotel.
By the time Drexel reached the parking level where the truck was parked it was empty. He did not spot Slocum at the bridgeway crossing to the hotel. He was not concerned. He knew that he had backup waiting on the street in front of the hotel.
When the familiar sedan pulled out of the garage, Donna fell in behind it. She had changed to a rented Honda Accord, deep gray to blend in with the night. The driver of the sedan showed no signs of knowledge of being followed.
The car left the river area and went back east, away from the Mississippi. When it exited on College Dr., Donna assumed it was heading back to Mansur's on the Boulevard. However, it made a quick right and then a quick left. Donna had to turn left with another car right next to her. By the time she turned around, the red sedan disappeared. She followed the street past four restaurants and a hotel. The street wound around and came out to a four-lane intersection. Donna had no idea which way Sleazy Slocum had taken.
61
Central High School
Doctor Brenda Thomas followed Niki into the high school principal's office. It had not changed much since Niki was a student several years past. Some of the same pictures still hung in the same places. Murray Daniel was still the leader at the school.
The old man seemed to have aged by decades instead of years when he wobbled into the office. Most of his gray hair was gone, only a strand left here and there atop his wrinkled head. His frame had always been lean. Now it was emaciated. Niki has seen for third world kids in better condition than the leader of the high school.
"Niki, it's always good to see you." His genuine smile was still the same.
"Thank you, Mr. Daniel. This place brings back a lot of memories."
"I trust most of them are good. What brings you back to the old stomping grounds?"
"This is Doctor Brenda Thomas. She has a court order to perform a medical procedure on one of your students."
The doctor pushed the papers across the desk. Daniel took them and spent the next ten minutes carefully reading them. When finished, he took off the thick glasses and set them aside.
"I don't particularly like having the school mixed up in this mess."
“It already is,” Niki responded. “When one of your faculty members is accused of inappropriate activity with a minor student on school grounds, Central High School is neck deep.”
"Will this open us up to a lawsuit by the student?"
"It depends on the outcome. The tests could go a long way in clearing Coach Bailey and by association, the school of any wrongdoing."
Daniel picked up the papers and read them again. He appeared to be searching for a way out of this predicament. He found none.
"I do not believe the school has much choice. Please note for the records, Niki. We are cooperating despite grave misgivings."
"So noted, Mr. Daniel. Can Doctor Thomas have access to the nurses station?"
"I believe that is appropriate given the circumstances. However, the order only applies to Doctor Thomas. You will have to wait in the visitors’ lounge while the test is performed."
Niki walked to the small room adjacent to the principal's office while Daniel escorted Doctor Thomas to the nurse’s station. It was far from a lounge. Four uncomfortable chairs. One soda machine. No pictures. No slogans. Bare walls.
The investigator could not relax. The whole case against Billy Bailey could be determined by the outcome. A negative result would not clear the coach, but it would speak volumes about the credibility of the accuser. A positive indication of Bailey's paternity would mean the end of his defense and give the district attorney the impetus to go to trial. She could not lose if that was the result. No plea arrangement. Coach Bailey faced the rest of his life behind bars.
For the first few minutes, Niki tried to sit in one of the unstable folding chairs. After ten minutes, she rose and paced around the small room.
After thirty minutes, she selected a crunchy chocolate bar from the machine. Ten minutes later, a chocolate-covered peanuts package became the object of her desires. She was about to punch the button for jalapeno cheese flavored potato chips when the door opened. Doctor Thomas stepped in.
"Thank God. If you have been much longer, I'd be trading in my size four clothes for some fourteens. How did it go?"
"It didn't," the doctor replied.
"Did she refuse? Did you explain to her she didn't have a choice?"
"I didn't get the chance. She never came to the nurses’ station. Mr. Daniel found out she didn't come to school today."
Niki was stunned. This is not one of those scenarios she had considered. As the realization sank in, anger replace astonishment. Flavia Foster had never been at the top of her list, but now she sank to the level of roadkill.
"I'm sorry for wasting your time, Doctor."
"No problem," the distinguished lady responded. "Actually, it's your money we’re wasting, not my time. I'll send the bill out tomorrow."
Doctor Thomas left Niki in the small room alone. Now the jalapeno cheese flavored potato chips were not desirable. They were essential.
62
Linda's Fish & Chicken
"Thanks for coming over here, guys," Niki said to Donna Cross and Drexel Robinson. "I think better when I'm eating Cajun fried chicken livers."
“Haven't had any this good since Mama used to fry èm up.” Drexel smacked his lips. “Don't tell Mama, but I think these are better.”
"Ugh," Donna moaned. "How can you guys eat the insides of the chicken? Do you know what chickens eat?"
"Do you like boiled crawfish?" Drexel asked the hourglass blond
e.
"Of course. Who doesn't like crawfish living in Louisiana?" Donna replied.
"Compared to a crawfish, chickens are picky eaters. Crawfish scavenge for anything dead. The more rotten, the more they like it."
"That's different. There are some parts of the crawfish I don't eat either."
Drexel grinned. "Then you're missing the best parts. Sucking the head of a crawfish is pure heaven."
"Niki," Donna turned her head. "Why did you hire this throwback to the Stone Age?"
"This is between you two," the strawberry blonde replied. "But I agree with him about crawfish heads."
"You guys are impossible. I don't know if I even want to finish my fried chicken."
"If you don't, give it to me." Drexel cast an envious glance at the wings. "I'll take them home for supper. If we don't hurry and finish this case, we'll all be eating other people's leftovers."
"We're getting close." Niki said. "We've got Flavia hiding from us. That means she knows something she doesn't want to tell us."
"By the time we find her, Coach Bailey will be in jail." Donna laid down her fork. "I'm not sure he will survive long in there."
"Me either," Drexel chimed in. "He's not the sort of fellow that will agree to get along. He'll fight back and that doesn't work well behind bars."
"I don't even want to think about it," Niki covered her eyes. "We have to find Flavia before Friday morning."
Niki's cell buzzed. She picked it up and listened intently. Wrinkles formed on the attractive detective's face. When she put the phone back in her bag, she was no longer interested in Cajun fried chicken livers.
"That was Samson Mayeaux. They found Flavia's car abandoned at the maze."
The maze was sixty-two acres of an undeveloped subdivision north of Central. The original owners put in underground water, electricity, phone lines and paved streets before going bankrupt. Now it was a place where weeds and priors had taken over, but still popular with the kids for weekend parties and for adults to dump their trash.