“But Dad, the game’s not over.”
“I said get your stuff.” He headed toward the door without looking back.
None of us moved. We just stood there, kind of shell-shocked watching two grown men, or one grown man, really lose his temper like that, and we weren’t sure what to do for a moment. Perhaps we needed a signal or something to continue on, and we got that when Carter ran his hand through his short graying brown hair, straightened his shirt, and then nodded to the referee, who blew his whistle, and the boys got in position to play again. We took our seats on the bleachers and pretended it never happened.
Or, maybe not.
“Well, who needs cable TV when we’ve got live action right here in Bramblett County?” Belle asked.
“Heavens, that’s no way to start a new job,” Clarissa said.
“No, it’s not, but it’s not his fault, and he handled it well,” I said.
“You think so?” Clarissa asked.
I nodded. “Absolutely.”
“I don’t know. Bobby has a point, but I’m not sure you’d understand. You don’t have kids yet.”
“What point?” Belle asked.
“Coach Carter is coming in and changing a lot of things, and the parents don’t like that much. We like things how they were. You know, if it ain’t broke, why fix it and all that.”
“From what I understand, he’s not changing anything that shouldn’t already be happening, and he’s got big plans for making the program a success. People should give him a chance.”
“Oh sweetie, this is high school sports. Parents don’t give anyone a chance. Though I will say, that Bobby Yancy Jr. isn’t as good as his daddy seems to think, and someone ought to teach that man some manners.” She adjusted the way her shirt rested on her thighs with her lips pursed until Belle and I left a short time later.
* * *
I gave Bo his release command. Well, one of the many we’d decided on anyway. “Go ahead, big guy.”
Bo raced off toward the dog park entrance at full speed, his long tail whipping back and forth as he sprinted ahead of me.
“Hey, bud.” My boyfriend Dylan Roberts, who also happened to be the Bramblett County Sheriff, met my big lug of a Boxer mix at the gate and let him in. He rubbed Bo’s clunky, massive head and gave him a quick ear massage. Bo’s tail swung happily, thunking against Dylan’s leg like a drumstick.
I caught up to the two and rubbed Dylan’s shoulder, the best I could do since I wasn’t much into public displays of affection.
Dylan bent down and kissed my forehead. “You shrinking, or am I just extra manly this morning?”
I held up my foot and wiggled it, displaying my bright white, brand new Avia running shoe. “I’m wearing sneakers instead of heels. I walked five miles at that community sale yesterday in a pair of heeled boots. My feet are a wreck. I even have blisters. Want to see?”
He shook his head. “I think I’ll pass on that one, but thanks.” He held up his department issued, black work boot. “You should get a pair of these. They’re really comfortable.”
“I would hope so. Something has to make up for their ugliness.”
“Hey, that’s not nice.”
“Sorry, I spent a lot of time with Belle yesterday. She must be rubbing off on me.”
“You spend a lot of time with Belle every day. You can’t use that as an excuse.”
I laughed. “You’re right. Those boots are just ugly.”
He smiled. “Keeping this county free of crime isn’t about fashion, Little Bean.”
Butterflies took flight in my stomach every time he used his private nickname for me. He’d called me that in high school when we first started dating, and it stuck.
Bo played chase the ball with one of his buddies while Dylan and I talked to his owner, Eric.
“Saw you at the lacrosse game last night,” Eric said.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you. You should have come up and said hey.”
“I had planned to, but things got a bit heated, and the next thing I knew, you were gone.”
“Yes, we left shortly after that.”
“What happened?” Dylan asked.
I filled him in.
Dylan raised an eyebrow. “Wonder why that guy went for him like that?”
Eric didn’t waste any time responding. “I heard the coach cut his son from the team.”
I looked Eric straight in the eyes. “He didn’t cut him from the team. He suspended him until he gets his grades up, which is school policy. He’s still allowed to practice. He just can’t play in the games.”
He nodded. “I heard something different, but okay.”
“Carter and I discussed it right before the altercation. You have a son in high school, right? Is he on the team?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Then I assume you know the rules?”
Dylan coughed. “Lily, what time do you have to be at the community sale? It’s getting late.”
“I’ve got plenty of time.” I angled my body directly toward Eric, effectively cutting Dylan out of the conversation.
“Previous coaches haven’t really followed that rule.”
“Don’t y’all think it’s beneficial to the team that they do? I’m sure some of these kids want to play in college. It’s a tough playing field in college, these kids need to be prepared for it, and the high school field should be the place for that preparation.”
Eric’s lips straightened into a thin, flat line. “Someone without kids can’t understand.” He whistled for his dog. “Come on Ranger, let’s go.”
Ranger bounded up to us, Bo running next to him, happy as a pig in mud. Eric walked out the gate without a goodbye.
“Well, that went well.” Dylan attached Bo’s leash to his collar. “Come on, Bo. You’re going to be my deputy for the day.” He kissed my forehead. “You want me to drop him off later?”
“Or I’ll call you when I’m done, whichever’s first.”
“Sounds good.”
* * *
The second and final day of the community sale started off better than the first, though the gossip train left the station bright and early. I’d stopped off at Millie’s Café between leaving the dog park and arriving at the school, and the train had already made its first stop there, as expected.
Millie handed me my bag of raspberry and vanilla scones, her latest and greatest recipe, and my current favorite. “Can you believe what happened?”
“I probably wouldn’t, but you’ll have to fill me in first, so I can make sure.”
“Oh bless your heart, I just don’t understand how you miss out on all the town news.” She poured me a cup of coffee, letting me add the half and half myself. “Word is that new coach at the high school, the one for that sport that’s like hockey, but they don’t play it on ice. Oh, heavens, I done forgot what it’s called already.”
“Lacrosse.”
She clapped her hands like she’d just won the lottery. “Yes! Lacrosse. Goodness, I don’t know why I can’t keep that in my head. He beat up one of the parents at a game last night.”
I gulped down a huge sip of the steaming coffee, the hot liquid burning my throat on its way down. “You heard what? That’s not at all what happened.”
She busied herself getting change for my ten dollar bill. “Well, I’m not sure what you heard, but that’s what I was told.”
“I didn’t hear anything, Millie. I was there. I saw exactly what happened.”
She closed the register. “Well then, what did you see? If I’m being told misinformation, I’d like to set the record straight. I’m not one to gossip, and I certainly don’t want people thinking I’m misrepresenting the truth.”
I gave Millie a blow by blow, literally, explanation of the events from the night before, detailing out exactly what Carter Trammell told to me about the rules and how they hadn’t been followed previously.
“Well, sounds to me like the parent—what’s his name?”
“Bobby Yancy.”
“Sounds to me like Bobby Yancy might could use a little attitude adjustment himself.”
“He was just upset. I think he overreacted, but I don’t think he intended for things to get out of control like that.”
“Well, I’ll be sure to correct anyone that’s got the story wrong.” She snuck a cookie sampler in my bag. “You know me. I hate to see someone bein’ talked about negatively, especially when it’s not the truth.”
“I’m right there with ya, Millie.” I wiggled the bag. “And I saw what you tucked inside here. Thanks for that.”
She winked. “You’re looking a little thin. Figured you could use ‘em.”
“Wish that was the case, but thank you for the compliment.”
It took all of seven minutes to drive to the high school. Parking was already crazy, but thankfully the volunteers had reserved spots, so I zipped right into one near the gym entrance and headed inside.
I hit the ground running, checking off items on my to do list, and making sure we’d be set to go when the sale opened at nine o’clock sharp.
While organizing some items near a side entrance, I jumped when Belled poked me in the middle of the back. “Hey, you could have said something first!”
“I did. You just didn’t hear me.”
“Oh, sorry. I’m a bit distracted. You know, big community sale and all.”
Her jaw dropped and she covered her mouth with her hand, and then, using her thickest southern drawl, said, “Well, I do declare, you mean something is more important than little ol me?”
“It’s for the children, Belle. The children.”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t remember programs costing this much when we were kids. We never needed a community sale to fund programs.”
“I’m sure it didn’t, but we didn’t pay for it, plus, it’s all relative to the times. Besides, there’s a lot more to it now than there was then.”
“Including bandages for when your parents have altercations with the coach.”
I shook my head. “I can’t even believe that. My daddy would never have done something like that.”
“No, but your momma might have.”
I laughed. “Well, that’s an entirely different story, and completely true.”
“Anyway, is Carter getting the Michael Jordan painting, too?”
“I’m not sure, why?”
“Someone else is interested in it, and he’s got a hold sticker on it. They’re willing to pay ten percent over asking price for it.”
“Really? That’s great. I haven’t seen him yet, but he’s supposed to be here.”
“Probably hiding in his office after last night.”
“I would be, too. Millie said the gossip around town is he beat up Yancy.”
“Seriously?”
I nodded. “I told her what happened though.”
“Good. Millie will set the town straight. She’s got that kind of power.”
“She sure does.”
“I’ve got to get a few other commitments secured on some other big ticket items. I’ve been encouraging some bidding wars on them, and they’re kicking into high gear. It’s kind of fun. If this realtor thing doesn’t work out, maybe I’ll open some kind of auction house or something.”
“Uh, this realtor thing better work out since we’re business partners.”
“Let me know what Carter decides.” She nodded her head to the left. “Oh, speak of the devil.”
I glanced over toward the bleachers. Kneeling down with a big green rolling garbage bin next to him was Bobby Yancy. Clarissa Mooney hung by his side, chatting him up. She wiggled her head back and forth one direction as her hips gyrated the opposite direction. I unconsciously did the same thing as I watched her.
“Ew, stop it. You’re imitating her, aren’t you?”
I stopped and blushed. “Oh gosh, I am, aren’t I?”
Belle laughed. “Honey, she can’t hold a candle to you.”
“I didn’t do it on purpose. She’s just got such weird—” I wasn’t sure how describe what I meant. “A weird way of, I don’t know, moving?”
“She’s flirting.”
I twisted my mouth. “You think?”
“Either that or she’s got to use the ladies room.”
I pressed my lips together, and then I couldn’t help myself, I laughed, loudly. Belle did, too.
The two of them glanced at us, and Clarissa stopped the wiggle thing. Bobby tossed a few things from under the bleachers into the bin, stood, removed a pair of disposable gloves from his hands, and pushed the bin behind the bleachers and out of our line of vision. “I feel bad for him. I’m sure he has a story we just don’t know it.”
“Probably, but it still doesn’t give him the right to behave like he did.”
“True.”
“Well dear, I have to run. I must make money for the children,” she said and blew me a kiss. “Ta-ta.”
We headed off in opposite directions.
We’d run out of several items at the concession stand the day before, so I checked to make sure they’d been properly restocked, and then followed the path along the front side of the bleachers to their back side on my way toward the locker rooms and Carter’s office. Only I didn’t have to go all the way to his office to find him.
Lying on the floor just behind the bleachers was Carter’s body, and I’d nearly tripped over him. I knew what I saw, but I’d hoped I was wrong. I hoped it wasn’t too late, that I wasn’t too late.
I bent down and pressed two fingers into the side of Carter’s warm neck, but I felt nothing. No faint, barely there beat, no hint of a pulse. “No, Carter, no.” I checked his wrist, too, but nothing beat there, either. I held my fingers over his nose and mouth, no air escaped either. “Please, Carter,” I cried. “Please breathe.” I pushed on his chest. “Breathe, Carter. Come on. Breathe for me.”
I immediately hit the emergency button on my phone, did my best to remain calm while explaining the situation to the operator.
“He’s not breathing.” I was on the verge of hyperventilating. I sucked in air and tried to stay as calm as possible, knowing I needed to focus. Carter Trammell was dead. I knew it, but I didn’t want to accept it. I could save him. I had to save him. His body was still warm. There was still time. There had to still be time. “No, Carter, please. No. No. No.” Push, Lily. Push.
“I checked but can’t find a pulse. I’m administering CPR. Please send an ambulance. I’m at the high school.” I breathed into his mouth, though I knew I wasn’t doing it right then, I just needed to do something while I explained to the 9-1-1 operator what was going on. “Hurry. Please. What can I do? Is he choking? Should I turn him over? Dear God. I don’t know what to do. He’s not breathing. He doesn’t have a pulse. His chest isn’t moving.” I kept talking and pressing into his chest and breathing into his mouth but nothing worked. Nothing. I kept at it, though. Kept doing what I knew to do, the operator talking to me the whole time.
I wasn’t sure what she said. I was too busy on my knees pushing the heels of my hands into Carter’s chest and screaming, “I need some help here. Somebody help me!” I pushed onto his chest again, counting the way I’d been taught. When I hit thirty, I tilted his head, and checked his breathing. When he didn’t breathe, I pinched his nose, and then breathed into his mouth. “Please, I need help!” I screamed louder.
A crowd gathered, and people did help, though I wasn’t sure who or how many. “Does the school have a defibrillator?” I repeated the process over and over. “This isn’t working.”
Carter was young. Too young to be on that gym floor, dead. Too young to die like that, in a new town, away from family, from the people he loved, with just me trying to save him. Me, Lily Sprayberry, who had no idea what she was doing really, but trying desperately to bring him back to life, and failing miserably.
The room spun, and sweat poured down my face, dripping all over Carter. I didn’t realize until later the sweat was mixed wit
h tears because I’d bawled my eyes out as I administered CPR on my new friend. My new, but dead friend.
The school did have a defibrillator, and someone knew how to use it, but by the time they’d arrived with it, it was too late. Really, it had been too late from the moment I found him, because Carter Trammell was already dead, and there was no bringing him back.
* * *
Dylan closed off the entire area, and the community sale was postponed until later in the day.
I stood next to my boyfriend, staring down at Carter’s body. “What do you think happened to him? He’s so young, and I can’t imagine he would just suddenly up and die like this.”
He took my hand and guided me away from the body. “I’m not sure, but there are no visible signs of violence. It looks like maybe some form of natural causes. The coroner will probably request an autopsy through the medical examiner’s office just to be sure.”
“That doesn’t make sense. He’s young. Was young. He worked out and took care of himself.” I glanced around the back of the bleachers and recalled seeing Bobby Yancy just moments before finding Carter on the ground. “I saw Bobby Yancy over here just a few minutes before finding Carter. Do you think this could have something to do with what happened last night?”
He pressed his palms onto my cheeks and wiped away the tears from my eyes with his thumbs. “Lily, how about I do the investigating? I left Bo with a deputy at the station, and the community sale isn’t going to start back up for a few hours. I’m sure they can handle it without you. Go get Bo, go home, and rest. You deserve it. You need it.”
“He’s right.” Belle snuck up from behind and handed me a box of tissues. “And you know you did everything you could, sweetie.”
“I know. I’m just tired of all this death. I think I’m cursed.”
I sat on the floor and leaned against the back of the bleachers. She sat next to me and wrapped her arm around my shoulder, tugging me up close to her. I imagined what she must be thinking. You’re not cursed. This isn’t your fault. All the same things I would say to her if our positions were reversed.
Signed, Sealed and Dead Page 3