Rumors

by Phil M. Williams

  “Maybe Janet got Bob to lie to the police, to take the heat off Shane.”

  “Then why did Drew plead guilty?”

  “They had him on the drug charges already. Sexual harassment’s a misdemeanor. He probably pled guilty to avoid trial. I doubt it even added much time to his sentence. I’m sure the cops were happy to close the case. Sexual assault charges are really hard to prove and prosecute.” Gwen clenched her jaw and her fists.

  Rick unfurled her fist and placed his hand in hers. “You okay?”

  She nodded. “I’m fine. Sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize.”

  She nodded again.

  “What do you think about taking another run at Greg Ebersole?”

  Gwen frowned in response.

  “Based on what he said, he probably has the video footage. We could go together and talk to his parents. His mother was friends with mine. Maybe she’ll make Greg help us.”

  CHAPTER 100

  Rick and the Kerfuffle

  Rick and Gwen had decided to go during the school day, while the tech guy, Greg Ebersole, was at work. Rick thought they’d be more likely to convince Greg’s parents to help them without Greg interjecting. Rick had met Greg’s mother a few times, but they certainly weren’t close, and he’d never met Greg’s father.

  They drove down the gravel driveway to the Ebersole farmhouse. The maples that lined the driveway were in their fall glory, the leaves fire-engine red. They passed the dilapidated barn, and Rick parked his truck behind another Ford pickup, a bit more beat up than his own. A clothesline stretched across the front lawn, shirts and pants and dresses waving in the wind.

  “You ready?” Rick asked, turning to Gwen.

  She nodded. “Hopefully they’re not as angry with us as the rest of this town.”

  “I guess we’ll find out.”

  They stepped from the cab. It was gray, the cold breeze biting their ears. They walked side by side to the front door. Rick glanced at Gwen, then knocked. Mrs. Ebersole answered the door. The middle-aged woman looked sturdy, like she was built to work. She wore a bonnet on her head and a coat over her Little House on the Prairie dress. Like many in the area, the Ebersoles waited as long as they could to turn on the heat, often wearing coats and hats in the house to stay warm.

  “Rick?” she said, her eyes narrowed in his direction.

  “Yes, Mrs. Ebersole,” Rick replied. “How are you?”

  She pursed her lips. “Better than you, I imagine.”

  “May we talk to you for a minute? It’s important.”

  “You were here the other day,” Mrs. Ebersole said, staring at Gwen. “You’re the other one who’s part of this … kerfuffle.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Gwen replied, her head bowed.

  “Well, I don’t want no part of it, and I don’t want youse bringin’ Greg into it neither.”

  “We’re innocent,” Rick said.

  Mrs. Ebersole frowned. “We’re all sinners.”

  “Please, just hear us out. You know me. My mother must’ve told you what type of person I am.”

  She sighed. “I know what you done for your mother, takin’ care of her all those years. I was real sorry when she died.”

  “Thank you.”

  Mrs. Ebersole stepped onto the porch, placing her hands in her jacket pockets.

  “Greg has video of the day of the shooting,” Rick said. “We think it’ll show Janet Wilcox planting an essay, proving that Gwen wasn’t negligent in her duties as an educator. Please, we just wanna find the truth.”

  “Ain’t that for the police?” Mrs. Ebersole asked.

  “They won’t release the video. At least not yet. But Gwen’s suspended now. She might lose her job. Plus, we’re both being sued by Heather Miles. The video would help with that too.”

  Mrs. Ebersole exhaled, her breath condensing in a cloud. “I can’t say I blame her.”

  “She’s misinformed,” Rick said.

  Mrs. Ebersole nodded, considering the situation. “What makes you think Greg has the video? The police would’ve taken it from the school.”

  “Greg told me that he has it—or at least a copy of it,” Gwen interjected.

  “Why would he do that if he wasn’t gonna give it to you?”

  “He said he’d give it to me if I spent the night with him in a hotel.”

  Mrs. Ebersole blanched and shook her head. “I’m sorry. He ain’t right sometimes. It’s that malarkey on the internet. Tellin’ him not to get married. Not to have children. Don’t make no sense to me.”

  “Will you please ask him to give us a copy of the video?” Gwen asked.

  The front door opened, and Mr. Ebersole stepped onto the porch, wearing dirty overalls. His face was ruddy and wrinkled, his eyes like lasers. “What in the world’s goin’ on out here?”

  Mrs. Ebersole turned to her husband. “Greg has a video that Rick and this young woman need.”

  “Our son ain’t gettin’ involved in this mess.” He put his arm around his wife and guided her inside. He turned to Rick and Gwen, standing on the threshold, and said, “Go on, get. Get off my property.” He slammed the front door.

  Rick and Gwen trudged back to the truck, dejected. Inside the cab, Rick started the engine, and put the truck into Reverse, turning around.

  As he put the transmission into Drive, Gwen said, “Hold on. I have an idea.”

  Rick put the truck into Park, the engine still running.

  Gwen rifled through her purse, extracting a pen and a business card. “I think she knows her son’s a creep. I think she wanted to help us.”

  “I agree, but Mr. Ebersole has her pretty well controlled.”

  “It may look like that, but I bet she does plenty behind his back.”

  “How do you know?” Rick asked.

  “Just a feeling I get. My dad thinks he controls my mom, but my mom finds a way to do whatever she wants.” Gwen crossed out the plumber on the business card.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m giving her a chance to contact us behind his back.” Gwen wrote her name and number on the back of the card, with a little note that read, Please call if you can help. We’ll be discreet.

  “How are you gonna give it to her?”

  Gwen had a crooked smile. “Watch.” She opened the passenger door, ran over to the clothesline, and put the card into a dress pocket.

  CHAPTER 101

  Janet and Stop, Just Stop

  The West Lake Wolf Pack football team was at home for the last game of the regular season. They were 8-1, a win guaranteeing a postseason berth. Janet sat in the stands with Rachel, sharing her blanket. They had been excited and talkative as the game began, but much less so after Shane threw his first interception. And even less so after the second. The Cornwall Crusaders were up 14–0. Shane and the West Lake offense drove deep into Cornwall territory, with a minute left in the half.

  That’s when it happened. Again. Shane forced the ball into double coverage, and the Cornwall defender intercepted the pass and nearly ran it back for a touchdown. Cornwall scored on a screen pass as the half ended, making the score 21–0.

  “At least we get the ball in the second half,” Rachel said, as they watched the band perform the halftime show.

  Janet glared in response.

  After halftime, West Lake received the kickoff, the returner downing it in the end zone for a touchback. Cornwall had an excellent kicker who could boot kickoffs into the end zone. Jamar and the offense trotted onto the field.

  Janet’s eyes were like saucers. “What the hell does Bob think he’s doing?”

  “Maybe Shane’s hurt,” Rachel said.

  Shane stood on the sideline, apart from his teammates, his helmet on.

  “He doesn’t look hurt,” Janet said, standing from her seat.

  Jamar completed a twenty-yard pass to Lance, the West Lake crowd showing some life.

  “Where are you going?” Rachel asked.

  Janet didn’t answer, simply sto
mped down the stadium steps. The home team crowd cheered again as Jamar broke loose for a long run. Janet opened the short gate that separated the crowd from the sideline. She marched passed the cheerleaders, who shook their pom-poms on the rubber track. Janet stepped onto the grass and the sideline. The crowd erupted once more as Jamar threw a touchdown pass to Lance. Janet pushed through the celebrating players, finding Coach Schneider, wearing a headset, all smiles after the touchdown.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Janet said.

  Bob Schneider walked away from the players and assistant coaches, toward the empty benches. Janet followed. Out of the corner of his mouth, in a hushed tone, he said, “Are you crazy?”

  Once they were alone, Janet said, “I want Shane back in, now.”

  “Cliff Osborn told me at halftime to put Jamar in. He said that you’d understand. He was supposed to talk to you.”

  School Board President Cliff Osborn came their way, cutting across the track to the sideline. Bob and Janet both watched his advance, Bob’s face showing hope, Janet’s showing hatred.

  Cliff approached, showing his palms. “We need this game to make the playoffs.”

  “I want Shane back in, right now.”

  “Not gonna happen,” Cliff replied. “Lance has a real chance at a scholarship but not if the season ends tonight. Shane has had more than enough chances. It’s obvious to everyone that he’s not getting the job done.”

  Janet moved into Cliff’s personal space. She spoke in terse whispers. “You have no right to get involved in—”

  “Stop, Mom. Just stop,” Shane said.

  Janet turned to Shane. “This doesn’t concern you.”

  “Of course it does.”

  “They cannot take you out. You’re a senior.”

  “Seriously, just fuckin’ stop.” Shane sounded exasperated.

  Bob and Cliff took the opportunity to walk away from the scene, leaving mother and son to battle it out.

  “Do you have any idea what I’ve done for you?” Janet said.

  “You’ve ruined my life.” Shane tossed his helmet to the ground and walked toward the locker room.

  Janet followed. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Get the fuck away from me.”

  Janet stopped in her tracks, her mouth open, in shock, watching her son walk away.

  CHAPTER 102

  Gwen and the Throwback

  Gwen stood from the blanket, a pair of binoculars in hand, cheering the touchdown pass from Jamar to Lance Osborn. It was the third touchdown he’d thrown to Lance in the second half. Rick had also stood from the blanket, cheering in obscurity, also holding a pair of binoculars. They’d watched the game from the top of the hill, just off school grounds. It was the best place to watch the game if you weren’t allowed on campus or were too broke to buy a ticket. Thankfully, only a handful of people were spread across the massive hill, probably too drunk to notice or to care about Gwen and Rick.

  The score was now 21–20, Cornwall on top by one, pending the extra point, with thirty seconds left in the game. Coach Bob Schneider burned his final time-out and jogged onto the field.

  “I’d go for two,” Rick said.

  “Why not just kick the extra point and win it in overtime?” Gwen asked.

  “Our kicker makes about 70 percent of his extra points, but we make about 55 percent of our two-point conversions. That number is much higher with Jamar as quarterback because he’s such a threat to run. Plus, in overtime, the kicker is much more important, and their kicker is clearly better than ours.”

  “You think that’s what they’ll do?”

  “Probably. If I know Bob, he’ll run the quarterback throwback.”

  “What’s that?”

  Rick grinned. “You’ll see.”

  The kicker never came onto the field. West Lake lined up in a jumbo set, with three tight ends and two running backs. Cornwall took out two defensive backs, replacing them with two big linemen. On the snap of the football, Jamar pitched the ball to the deep back. The running back sprinted around the end. He wasn’t going to make it, the Cornwall defenders swarming and clogging the running lanes. But the running back stopped, turned, and threw the ball across the field to Jamar, who was wide open. The running back was crushed as soon as he threw the football, disappearing in a heap of Cornwall defenders. Gwen held her breath, watching through her binoculars, as the ball hung in the air, Jamar sprinting underneath, the spiral dropping into his outstretched hands. The referee threw his arms up signaling the successful two points. The stadium erupted in pandemonium. The fans were on their feet, high-fiving each other. The Wolf Pack sideline celebrated. Rick hugged Gwen. She wondered if he might kiss her. He didn’t.

  With a one-point lead, and thirty seconds left, West Lake did have to kickoff and stop Cornwall from scoring, which they did, the game ending on a sack.

  After the game, Gwen and Rick watched the sideline through their binoculars, hoping to see something that might help them. With Janet and Shane leaving in the third quarter, the sideline was drama free. Lance Osborn kissing Ashlee Miles was the only interesting development.

  CHAPTER 103

  Rick and Too Much to Drink

  After the big win, they went back to Gwen’s to celebrate with popcorn and wine for her and beer for him. Rick was a big guy, and he drank the occasional beer, but he hadn’t eaten much that day, and he hadn’t polished off a six-pack in less than two hours since he was in college. It felt good to be a little drunk, a little out of control. Rick placed the empty beer bottle on the coffee table and looked across the couch at Gwen and her wineglass and her flannel pajamas. Those big blue eyes. That perfect face. Rick scooted across the couch, now within touching distance.

  “I’m so proud of Jamar,” Gwen said.

  Rick nodded but didn’t reply audibly because he felt like now was the time. “You’re so beautiful.” His speech was slurred.

  Gwen giggled. “Sounds like someone’s a little drunk. I think it’s time to go to sleep.”

  “I’m not drunk. I’m stating facts. You’re beautiful. That’s a fact.” Rick put his big meat hooks on her waist and leaned in to kiss her, but she turned her head and placed one hand on his sternum, holding him at bay.

  “Rick, you’re drunk.”

  He pulled away abruptly, his hand accidentally smacking her wineglass, a splash of red wine ending up in Gwen’s lap.

  “Shit, I’m sorry,” Rick said, recoiling farther.

  Gwen set her wineglass on the coffee table. “It’s fine.” She stood from the couch. “I should go to bed.”

  Rick looked at her like a puppy dog begging to be invited.

  “I’ll see you in the morning,” she said before walking into her bedroom and shutting the door behind her.

  * * *

  “Oh, my God!” Gwen said.

  Rick sat upright on Gwen’s couch, jolted from his slumber. He rubbed his eyes, his vision coming into focus.

  “I’m sorry,” Gwen said, sitting at the kitchen table in her pajamas. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “What is it?”

  Gwen pointed to the laptop in front of her. “Lance Osborn commented on your post.” She smiled wide. “You should read this.”

  Rick moved the covers off his body and stood from the couch. His mouth tasted terrible. He cringed, feeling a flash of embarrassment as he remembered what had happened. He staggered to the kitchen.

  Gwen looked bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, her face radiant and flawless without makeup, and her hair in a loose ponytail. Rick slumped into the chair next to her.

  “You feeling okay?” she asked.

  “I’m fine.”

  She raised her eyebrows and giggled. “You don’t look fine.” Gwen stood from the table and stepped to the sink. “You need water.”

  “Thanks. I’m sorry about last night.”

  She sat next to him at the kitchen table, placing the water in front of him. “There’s nothing to be sorry
for. I had fun.”

  He nodded and took a huge gulp of water. Rick looked at the laptop. “What’s going on?”

  She moved the computer in front of him, leaning over him for a moment, close enough for Rick to smell her hair. A hint of vanilla and something else. Flowers maybe? Rick looked at the screen, his Facebook post followed by tons of terrible comments about how he was a child predator, a creep, and how he encouraged kids to bully Caleb to toughen him up.

  “Scroll down a little,” she said.

  Rick scrolled down and found it.

  Lance Osborn: You people are stupid. Coach Barnett never even saw Caleb being bullied. Neither did Coach Schneider. Nobody did but the football players. I saw someone put his balls right on Calebs face and it wasn’t Drew Fuller like everyones been saying. Shane Wilcox did that.

  CHAPTER 104

  Janet Ups the Ante

  Janet barreled into school on Monday morning. A few people said good morning, but she didn’t acknowledge their existence. She’d had an awful weekend. Shane still wasn’t talking to her and those fucking Osborns … She was still fuming mad at Cliff Osborn’s interference at the game. Then his piece-of-shit son had posted about Shane on that fucking Facebook page. It wasn’t enough to take Shane’s starting position. They also had to try to ruin his life. Then other fuckwad football players had backed up Lance’s story with posts of their own.

  Janet had called Cliff multiple times over the weekend, but he hadn’t answered or returned her messages. She had thought about going over to his house but decided against it. She had been afraid she might punch him in the face. As much as she hated to admit it, she needed his support on the school board, and his seat wasn’t up for two years. Once she was done with him though, she’d fucking bury him. So, she’d spent much of the weekend sending abuse reports to Facebook, flagging the posts about Shane, and telling her supporters to do the same. Unfortunately, Facebook wasn’t very responsive on the weekend, so the posts were still up.