“I guess that's a good thing for your case, but you still don't have valid alibis for either murder, do you? I don't believe you about dropping the schedules off for my father the night Abby died. You were at Diamond Hall to see her, weren't you?”
“All right, yes. She agreed to meet at eight thirty to discuss Striker's grades.” Coach Oliver explained he was about to enter the back of the building to see Abby when Lorraine called to him. When Lorraine led him to a nearby bench, he handed her the schedule and talked for about ten minutes. Once she walked back to the building, Coach Oliver took off and tried to call Abby, but she never picked up the phone. He went to the retirement party assuming Abby would call him back at some point, then ran into Eleanor right at nine when it was about to end. My mother had seen him after Lorraine left him. “That sheriff has no clue what's going on and wants to close the case, so she doesn't look foolish,” Coach Oliver noted.
I agreed with him but taking a stance on Sheriff Montague's intelligence wouldn't help me. “I'm sure they're looking at other suspects besides you. What about the note under your desk?”
Coach Oliver's head jerked back in alarm. I'd caught him off guard and temporarily speechless. “Ah, I'm not exactly sure. I won't try to deny it, I know that cop saw me trying to hide it.”
“It's illegal to conceal evidence. I'm sure you're aware they could charge you with something for that,” I added hoping to scare him into talking more. “You must have told her something about it if Officer Flatman saw the note.”
Coach Oliver explained how he'd been finding notes since the semester started from someone claiming Striker should be the starting pitcher. The person had previously left one for Striker indicating they had done something to ensure Striker's grades were good enough to lift the suspension. Coach Oliver had stolen the notes as he didn't want Striker to worry or get in trouble. He hoped it was someone messing around. He grew alarmed when he got a second note and Striker's grades didn't match what Abby had earlier told him about an 'F.' He knew they'd been changed but not how or why.
“I don't get it. Why was it so important for Striker to pitch?” I inquired while shaking my head. I decided to go out on a limb and test a theory I'd been considering ever since Nana D told me about the conversation Bridget overheard. “Does this have anything to do with the rumor about the scout helping somebody at Braxton get a job at the Major League Baseball organization? And that you just happen to be the scout's best friend?”
Coach Oliver turned white as a ghost. “How do you know about that?”
Bullseye, I thought to myself. “Were you hoping that by ensuring Striker played in the game you'd have a better chance of getting that job at the Major League Baseball organization? Was it some sweet executive position? Access to all the major league teams?”
“No, you've got it all wrong,” shouted Coach Oliver as he paced the room. “From the beginning, I wanted both Striker and Jordan to play. I care about the guys and want them to land a contract with one of the Major League Baseball teams after graduating from Braxton. That's why I privately coached both last semester and encouraged the competition between them. I wanted my buddy to see how well they both played and get them into the leagues.”
“So, you're saying the league job isn't for you? This is entirely for the players?”
“Right, I don't want to leave Braxton. I love working here, but I was being blackmailed.”
“I don't understand what you're saying,” I replied pushing him to explain the whole story.
“Last fall, Marcus Stanton approached me saying he knew I needed a lot of improvements in the athletic department. He offered to buy me new gym equipment, re-turf the baseball field, and fund whatever technology I needed.”
“Isn't that a good thing?” I asked suddenly putting things together. It was Marcus Stanton threatening my father on that call I'd overheard. He didn't want anyone to know he'd made the anonymous donation, but I couldn't figure out why. It may have looked a little self-centered if he was donating money that helped his stepson, but that wasn't enough to be so secretive.
Coach Oliver explained how Marcus would make an anonymous donation indicating a majority needed to be allocated to whatever Coach Oliver said was a priority for Grey Sports Complex. Marcus had only one condition. He wanted his stepson to be the only star—Coach Oliver had to convince his best friend, the Major League Baseball scout, to recommend Striker join a team after graduation. When Coach Oliver said he couldn't do that, Marcus Stanton revealed his knowledge of the secret relationship with Lorraine Candito. He planned to expose Coach Oliver if he didn't agree to the deal. Blackmail was a much better reason to remain anonymous with his donation, so it looked like two very different transactions.
“I cared so much for Lorraine and didn't want her to get hurt, plus I didn't want to get in trouble again. They'd fire me, and I'd be out of a job with no chance of being hired ever again. That stupid policy was put in place because of me, and I wasn't supposed to be dating anyone from the college at all. I finally agreed to find a way to get my buddy to focus on recommending Striker to a major league team.”
Coach Oliver explained once Striker failed his class last semester, Marcus demanded he find a way to fix Striker's grades. Coach Oliver tried to convince Abby not to fail him, but it didn't work. He later tried to wine and dine her, which started changing her mind. She considered being easier on Striker by using an academic Bell Curve grading style to help him pass, but when Abby found out about Lorraine and Coach Oliver, she realized he was just using her. When she threatened to report him to the Board of Trustees and my father, he revealed Councilman Stanton's blackmail scheme. Coach Oliver wanted to meet with Abby the night she died to find a way to pass Striker and prevent her from exposing the entire situation.
I recognized the similarities between Coach Oliver's explanation and Alton's conversation with Abby before she died. She'd stumbled upon all this happening and thought she could write an exposé about small-town sports and politics. “I'm still not sure why he was so worried about donating in his name. He's also got alibis for both murders unless he hired someone else.”
“Marcus didn't want to interfere with Judge Grey who'd been the primary person to fund the athletic facility in the past, hence why it's named after his family. Stanton is also running for mayor in the next election. He wanted everything to look squeaky clean. He's not a killer. If people thought he was bribing the scout or me to get his stepson onto a Major League Baseball team, they'd never vote him into office,” Coach Oliver said.
“They'd probably strip away his role as a councilman, too. Is this absolutely everything you know? You've lied several times before,” I said with a scowl. As slippery as he'd been before, I believed him this time.
“Yes, Marcus can't hurt me anymore now that Abby and Lorraine are gone. I've got nothing to lose. He won't reveal anything as it would hurt him, too,” Coach Oliver replied as he ushered me toward the door. “I need to get ready. My buddy is coming by to watch Jordan play since Myriam won't release Striker from his academic probation. At least I can give one of the players a chance. Maybe with Jordan finally getting his opportunity, Dean Terry won't give me any nasty looks and won't interfere in today's game.”
I stopped short in the hallway. “Wait, what did you say?”
“Dean Terry's been attending all the games this past year. She's always looked upset over my interactions with Jordan,” Coach Oliver replied. “It's like she wants me to show favoritism because she's his aunt. I'm so tired of the games women play.” When he finally closed the door, I found myself standing in the hallway more stunned than when I'd arrived.
If Dean Terry's nephew had a chance to be the team's starting pitcher and get noticed by the scout, how much would she manipulate behind the scenes to ensure no one took that opportunity away? Was Dean Terry trying to make it look like Striker was cheating or changing his grades so he would get put on probation? I left Grey Sports Complex and walked to the BCS Office in search of Co
nnor. I wanted him to be with me when I called Sheriff Montague, but he wasn't around. A student employee radioed Connor who indicated he'd be done with his security checks on the field in an hour. I planned to meet him near the hotdog stand on the west side of the bleachers at eleven thirty.
I went to the cafeteria to buy a cup of coffee and logged into the student system to retrieve Carla's and Striker's contact information. I needed to meet with them both before the game started to learn as much as I could about their real activities the night of Abby's murder. Striker picked up my call and told me he was leaving his dorm room and on his way to the field to meet with Coach Oliver. Although he still wasn't allowed to play in the game, Striker had to support his teammates and warm-up in the bullpen in case anything changed with his probation. I asked him to meet me at a quarter after eleven before his practice began. When he agreed and hung up, I tried to reach Carla, but she didn't pick up her dorm phone. I'd have to try again after I met Connor and Striker at the field.
I scrolled through my email but had nothing from Myriam or Siobhan which meant I couldn't yet check Carla's handwriting against the note we'd found in Coach Oliver's office. I left the cafeteria and began my walk across North Campus toward the baseball field. I took the longer route as I had several minutes before it was time to meet Striker. A few steps after I passed the last set of academic buildings, I heard my name being called. I turned and saw from a distance Dean Terry jogging toward me. I looked around realizing I was on the far side of the campus not remotely near any other buildings. It was a half-mile walk to reach the parking lot for the sports field which meant I would be alone with Dean Terry for too long. Although I could defend myself, two women had already been killed. I was potentially putting myself too close to the murderer.
“Dean Terry, what brings you along this path? It's a little out of the way to get to Grey Field,” I said keeping several feet away. Everything I'd learned could be a coincidence, I reminded myself.
“Oh, I was getting ready to attend the game. It's gonna be an important one,” she said. Dean Terry was a bit winded from trying to catch up with me. Her brow was wrinkled. She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth. “Then I saw you walking by, and well, I had to follow you.”
“Yes, big game. I would never have pegged you for a big fan of sports. Back when I was a student, that didn't seem to be one of your focus points.” I thought I'd dance around the topic to see what she'd say before asking any direct questions.
“I know, me neither,” she said, then reached a hand to grab my elbow. “I think you and I need to talk. Do you have a few minutes to come back to my office?”
“Um, not really. I told a few people I'd meet them at Grey Field. I wouldn't want to cause them to wait unnecessarily for me.” I tried stepping away, but her grip was too tight.
Dean Terry breathed deeply. “I know you're aware, Kellan. I need a few minutes of your time.”
Was she about to confess? Or find a way to get me alone to silence me, too? “I'm not sure what you're talking about. Maybe we could chat at the field once I'm done? Director Hawkins is expecting me any minute.” I thought mentioning his name would keep her at bay if she was going to try anything. I didn't like the annoyed and distant look she'd been giving me.
“We can chat more later, but there's no pussyfooting around it, Kellan. The Board of Trustees didn't choose me as your father's successor. Your father indicated I couldn't talk to anyone about it until after the announcement on Monday except for the Board and you. I guess that means you're aware of the expansion plans, too? They told me I should feel honored over being asked to take a larger role in the new Braxton University. Some consolation prize, huh?”
It was then I realized Dean Terry wasn't stopping me to discuss her role in the grade changes or either of the murders. “Oh, I didn't know they gave the presidency to the other candidate. I thought they were going to choose you.” I wasn't exactly sure what was going on, yet I felt like it was better to stay on her good side. “I'm so sorry. Do you know who they chose?”
“I don't. They wouldn't tell me. Thanks for your understanding. I was annoyed the other day when I found out I was their second choice. When I ran into you, I genuinely thought they were going to offer me the job. I was a real witch when I got back to my office afterward. I have to remember to apologize next week to everyone who saw me get a little heated.”
The conversation I'd overheard with the students made sense now. I felt like maybe I could ask some questions about Jordan without causing too much suspicion. “I heard your nephew will be pitching today, you must be excited.”
Dean Terry nodded. “Yes, I'm proud of how well he's done. I feel bad that Striker is still on probation. I even tried convincing Myriam earlier today there was no proof Striker was involved in the grade changes. While we suspect his exam isn't his own work, Braxton doesn't have enough evidence to suspend him. She wouldn't budge. That woman is a piece of work.”
“Are you saying you didn't want to put Striker on academic probation? I assumed you agreed with Myriam.” I was glad she openly admitted Jordan was her nephew, but her support of Striker confused me.
“No, I urged the need to complete an investigation and thorough analysis, but this has gone on long enough,” she replied. “Without Striker on the team, Coach Oliver is much harder on Jordan than normal. I prefer when he can split his focus between them both. I know the coach is trying to make them stronger, but he's a monster when it comes to yelling at them and working them so hard.”
“That's why you've been giving dirty looks to Coach Oliver?”
Dean Terry explained she never thought Jordan had a chance to make it to the big leagues when he was in high school. He was a cocky kid who had little discipline. In the last few years, she finally saw him prove how good of a pitcher he was. That's when she began to take a bigger interest in his baseball career as well as change her tune about sports in general at Braxton. Coach Oliver didn't like her getting involved on his turf and misread her intentions for getting more tangled in his department's operations.
“Wow, I wish I knew some of this sooner. I never realized you were his aunt. By the way, did you visit Jordan the night of my father's party? Jordan mentioned you'd stopped by…” I asked hesitantly.
“Yes, I'd forgotten I left the party to give him some encouragement. He'd only gotten home a few minutes before I showed up at nine. He'd been out on a date and just left the girl's dorm room,” she replied. If that was true, then Carla and Dean Terry corroborated his alibi. Dean Terry might have had time to leave the party, kill Abby, then visit Jordan, but it didn't seem likely.
“How'd your self-defense class go? I wanted to take one someday,” I said. She probably wouldn't understand why I asked, but it might finalize the open issues with her alibi.
“Never made it. I got pulled into an urgent call with your father and showed up late. There was a sign on the door indicating no late arrivals, so I went back to the office,” she said. Knowing that cleared up the confusion and likely meant Dean Terry wasn't a murderer, I wished her success in her expanded role at Braxton. I sidestepped the conversation about why I'd known anything about the plans for the new university since she didn't need to know whether I was going to join the project. While her explanations might have left minor doubt over her guilt, her as the murderer didn't feel right. I was missing something but couldn't find the breakthrough I needed. As I took off in the direction of the baseball field breathing a sigh of relief I hadn't been a third victim, my phone rang. It was Myriam.
“I'm not used to being summoned on a Saturday with another crucial college issue, Mr. Ayrwick. I'd have thought with your father identifying the blogger this morning, you would be busy trying to figure out what that was all about. Surely, you have a good reason to disturb me?”
Myriam knew who the blogger was. “My father hasn't mentioned any names, yet. I'll be sure to ask him again soon.”
“It was Abby. Apparently, she'd been pressuring him about the do
nations, but he hadn't put it all together until you started asking questions about who decided to install all the new technology at Grey Sports Complex. She was a classic fool worthy of Shakespeare's court jesters.”
“How did Abby post that last article after she died?” It didn't add up.
“It was the very last thing she did. She'd been writing the blog while walking around the retirement party, set it to post the following day, and then went back to her office. I checked the date and time stamps and validated it was last saved at eight o'clock.”
“How do you know this?” I asked.
“When I received the materials in her office, I found her username and password for the blog. I tried to log on, and it worked. Once I confirmed it was her account, I could see all the posts. That's when I updated your father, Connor, and the sheriff about it.” Myriam sounded very smug in her explanation.
Myriam's news timely explained why my father was so busy this morning. “I apologize. I only contacted you because of an urgent police matter. I need to get a copy of some exams that Siobhan took home to upload into the grading system.”
“You're quite obsessed with grades. Were you a poor student when you attended Braxton? Is it a self-confidence booster to point out when a student's grades have been tampered with?”
Given she brought up the subject, I decided to ask for a status on the analysis she held up. “Dean Terry said she's recommended the investigation be closed and Striker be allowed to play today.”
“Mr. Ayrwick, I've turned everything over to Dean Mulligan. Everyone on the committee has weighed in as of an hour ago. There will be a decision on Monday. I'm sorry this means your little friend, Craig Magee, cannot play today. There's more to life than tossing a ball around for a few hours.”
Academic Curveball Page 24