A Cop's Promise

by Sharon Hartley

  Lana swallowed but didn’t reply. The Herald had proclaimed Coach Robertson their Coach of the Year numerous times over his lengthy career. Apparently they didn’t know about his habit of drinking in this office. She doubted Chip had made that up, if no other reason than the telltale spidery blood vessels appearing on Coach Robby’s face. She’d never given it any thought before, but his nose and cheeks were always red. He had a drinking problem and likely a bad one.

  “So, what are you going to do now?” she asked. So far all he’d told anyone about his decision to quit coaching was a mysterious “It was time.” What exactly did that mean, though?

  He sighed. “Why does everyone always ask me that?”

  “Because people are worried about you.”

  He looked down at the award again. “No one cares what an old man does.”

  “But you’re not old, Coach.” Coach Robby had started teaching at Southeast High straight out of college, but he was only fifty-six. There had to be a reason for his unexpected retirement in the middle of the fall semester.

  Coach smiled, looking a little sad. “You always were a sweet kid, Lana.”

  “Thanks.”

  “But you need to get over your brother’s death.”

  “Funny thing,” she said, deliberately rolling her eyes. “Everyone is always telling me that.”

  He gave her a quick salute. “Fair enough.”

  Lana tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Didn’t you give Dan some private coaching that summer after graduation?”

  “Yeah, he wanted some help with his long ball, which he thought was getting away from him.” Coach sighed and looked over her shoulder, his eyes unfocused. “Dan wanted to be ready for fall practice at the U.” He brought himself back and glanced at her again. “Ancient history. Why do you ask?”

  “I’m wondering if you noticed anything unusual during your sessions.”

  “Unusual? Like what?” Coach’s voice became sharp, suspicious. He’d obviously put it together that she was inquiring about the time close to Dan’s murder.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Did Dan mention having a conflict with anyone?”

  “Not as I recall, but that was a long time ago. Why do you ask?”

  “His murder was never solved. How about arguments?” she persisted, trying to get Coach thinking about the past. “Did the team ever have arguments in the locker room?”

  “Of course,” he said, waving a dismissive hand. “Players argue over everything—who did what wrong, who was at fault because of a loss.”

  “Did anyone ever blame Dan for a loss?”

  “Sure.” Coach shrugged. “Probably at one time or another.”

  “Do you remember a specific occasion?”

  Coach shook his head. He now gazed at her warily, but she refused to give up so soon.

  “Did anything ever become, you know, violent?”

  “Violent?” Coach stared at her for a long moment. “Why are you asking?”

  “Well, I heard something about—”

  Eyes narrowed, he pointed a finger at her. “Damn rumors. I never believed any of them, and you shouldn’t, either.”

  She blinked. “What rumors are you talking about?”

  “I wondered if that ridiculous story would resurface at my retirement shindig. Apparently it did and you heard it. Am I right?”

  Although confused, Lana nodded to keep him talking. She hadn’t heard any rumors from back in the day.

  “Listen to me, Lana, and not the stories. Dan was the type of naturally gifted player that comes along once in a coach’s lifetime. His athletic ability made some of his teammates jealous.”

  “Jealous of his talent?” What was Coach getting at?

  Coach nodded. “And of my attention to him. That’s on me—no question. I gave him too much of my time, but I’m only human.”

  Lana stepped toward Coach Robby. “So you think someone was envious enough to murder him?”

  Coach recoiled at her words, his eyes gone huge. “Murder him?”

  “Isn’t that the rumor you’re talking about?”

  “God, no.” The words exploded out of his mouth. Coach took a deep breath and released it in an audible rush. “No,” he repeated in a quieter tone. “No one on Dan’s team had anything to do with his death.”

  Lana nodded. During the initial investigation, Detectives Rivera and Harnage had questioned Coach about conflicts on the team. Lana had read Coach’s statement multiple times, and he had been adamant that no one on the team was complicit in Dan’s murder.

  “What makes you so sure?” she asked.

  “I’d known every one of those young men for years. None were capable of committing a murder, certainly not of a friend or one as gruesome as Dan’s.” He swallowed hard and looked away again. “Sorry, Lana. I certainly hope you’ve never seen the photographs.”

  But she had. Many times. No doubt the detectives had shown them to Coach during questioning to rattle him, a common police tactic.

  “Then what rumors are you talking about?” she demanded. There’d been nothing in the murder book from the coach or any players about rumors surrounding Dan, but Coach Robby seemed haunted by the gossip.

  “If you haven’t heard them,” Coach said, “I’m not going to give them credence by repeating them.”

  “Please. I need to know, Coach.”

  “No, Lana, you don’t.” The man’s tone turned hard. “You need to do what I did a long time ago.”

  Lana stiffened, knowing what was coming next.

  “Accept the fact that life is often cruel and move on,” Coach said. “You need to come to terms with your brother’s death and let it go.”

  “No,” she said.

  “You need to let Dan rest in peace.”

  “How the hell can he rest in peace when his murderer is still walking around free?”

  Coach nodded, looking old and sad.

  “Sorry,” she murmured. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

  He raised his palm to stop her apology. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  Understanding he wanted her to leave, she persisted. “Tell me about the rumors. Please, Coach. If not for me, then for our mother. Dan’s death destroyed her.”

  Coach shook his head. Damn him. She needed to loosen his tongue.

  “Did you tell the police anything about the rumors?”

  “No.” He took a deep breath and averted his gaze. “They were unsubstantiated, with absolutely no proof.”

  Then the detectives hadn’t been forceful enough during the interview. She’d thought the stories had been so irrelevant that Harnage and Rivera hadn’t bothered to include them in their report. Which would have been a mistake.

  “Can you at least give me the name of one player who spread these mysterious stories about Dan?”

  “Why?”

  “I can interview him.”

  “Interview him?” Coach narrowed his eyes.

  Realizing she’d made a slip, Lana covered quickly. “You know, talk to him, but I won’t mention your name.”

  “Bubba Jones. Chip Peterson. Artie Dean. Gary Shotwell. Carlos Rodriguez.” Coach spewed names like a floodgate had been opened. “They all talked about it, but it was all BS.”

  Lana nodded, committing the names to memory. Chip had held back on her, damn him. He hadn’t mentioned any rumors circling Dan.

  “What were the rumors, Coach? Please. Think about my mom.”

  Coach folded his arms. “Fine, but no one will ever convince me that Dan Lettino took anabolic steroids.”

  Lana blinked at Coach. “Steroids?”

  “That was the jealous rumor, that Dan was so good because he ate steroids like candy.”

  “But that’s ridiculous.” Lana swallowed. “He would never—”
r />   “Of course not.”

  A sense of cold crept into Lana’s core, as if she’d just opened a freezer door. Her brother would never use an illegal drug. He cared too much about his future career in professional football.

  “Did you ever talk to Dan about steroid use?”

  “He came to me, asking what I knew, demanded to know who was spreading such garbage. And, yeah, there was a scuffle in the locker room after practice that afternoon. I arrived late to break it up, but apparently Dan confronted Bubba and it got physical.”

  Lana needed to interview Bubba as soon as possible. “And you’re saying you didn’t mention anything about Dan using steroids to the detectives after his murder?”

  “It was nothing but a pack of damn lies.”

  “Oh, Coach.”

  “I was thinking about your mother. If the gossip had wound up in the newspaper, think about how much that would have hurt her.”

  * * *

  TWO HOURS LATER, Lana jogged across the University of Miami campus, toward the bright orange umbrellas of The Bricks. She needed to find Chip before his afternoon lecture. He’d used this courtyard between classes last Monday, so there was a good chance he’d do the same again today.

  But would he talk to her about the steroid rumors? Or would he still be pissed because she’d labeled him a suspect in a murder?

  The boy she’d once known could never hold a grudge, and she was betting on the idea that he was still the same old easygoing Chipster. Unlike her brother, who could nurse a perceived slight for weeks.

  She slowed to a brisk walk, her stomach clenching at that particular memory. She’d researched steroid use online. In addition to body changes, one of the side effects was a short temper, called ’roid rage at the extreme level. But that didn’t mean Dan was a drug user. The whole idea was preposterous, and it would have come out eight years ago.

  She’d reread the autopsy last night and there’d been no mention of illegal substances. Dan was clean. Of course he was.

  Although substances existed that could mask doping.

  Yes, Dan had had an athletic physique, the body of a man, really, because he had repeated the fourth grade and was a year older than the other seniors, including herself. But Dan’s muscles came from hard work in the gym, not steroids. She would have known if he’d used drugs.

  She swallowed. Wouldn’t she?

  But if Dan had been a user... She shook her head. That would open up a whole new line of investigation for her to pursue. Where would he have gotten drugs? How did he pay for them? How did he fool the tests?

  Coach Robby had shut down soon after mentioning steroids, obviously sorry he’d said anything. She’d tried, but couldn’t get any more information out of him. Chip had to know something.

  Lana scanned the people gathered around the concrete tables in the campus courtyard, but didn’t see her old friend. Had she missed him? She moved inside the student union to see if he’d grabbed something at a food vendor during his break.

  His height allowed her to quickly spot him in line at the coffee shop, chatting with an attractive female student.

  Chip’s sun-streaked hair and broad shoulders made her take a long second look. He reminded her of some sort of Viking prince. A lot of time had passed since she’d lived next door to Chip Peterson, and he definitely wasn’t a boy any longer. He was a man, and a damn good-looking one at that.

  Lana leaned against a wall and watched the woman in line openly flirt with him. Chip appeared to be enjoying every second of their conversation. Lana shifted her weight, wondering why the stranger talking to Chip annoyed her.

  He turned from the cash register in possession of a giant coffee. Laughing, he waved goodbye to the pretty young woman and moved toward a bulletin board used by students to post all sorts of notices.

  As Lana walked toward him, he reached toward the cork, tore a phone number from an advertisement and stuffed it in his backpack. He returned his attention to the board and continued to study the notices. When she got close enough, she noted the number he’d snagged was for a Roberto and referenced a studio apartment for rent.

  “Hey, Chip,” she said.

  Smiling, Chip looked down. His smile faded when he recognized her. He didn’t say anything for a couple of heartbeats.

  “Are you stalking me again, Lana?”

  “I need to talk to you,” she said.

  “I seem to remember us talking Saturday night.”

  “I have a few more questions.”

  He glared at her, obviously not happy to see her.

  “I’ve got class.”

  “I promise this won’t take long. I’ve got an appointment later.” She’d made arrangements to meet Cindy Arroyo for a drink when the former prom queen got off work at 5:00 p.m.

  He pulled his cell phone from his jeans pocket and checked the time. “You’ve got thirty minutes.”

  “Good enough,” she said, looking around the noisy room. “Can we go somewhere more private?”

  He nodded. “Let’s go over by the lake.”

  Wondering what the hell she wanted, Chip followed Lana to a small lake full of ducks, surrounded by shaded benches. Most were occupied by other students, but they found an empty one. He waited for her to sit first. As soon as she did, several ducks paddled through the water toward them, leaving behind a V-shaped wake.

  He pried off the lid of his coffee. Steam drifted up, and he inhaled the familiar smell.

  “What’s so important that you had to follow me to campus again?” he demanded.

  “I talked to Coach Robby this morning.”

  “Good for you.”

  “Today is his last day at Southeast High.”

  “Yeah, well, time marches on.” Chip took a hesitant sip, focusing on her over the rim. “For most people, if not for you.”

  “Funny,” she muttered. “He said there was a rumor going around the team that Dan used steroids.”

  “Yeah, I heard that,” Chip said, shooting her a sideways look, surprised Coach had said anything about steroids.

  “Why didn’t you mention that Saturday night?”

  “Because I never believed it.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “Nah. Dan was counting on a future with the National Football League. Drug use would have killed that dream.”

  “That’s what I think,” she said.

  “Okay, then.”

  “But Coach said there was a fight between Dan and Bubba over the allegations.”

  Chip nodded. “There was more than one argument over that gossip. The rumors pissed Dan off big-time.”

  “So everyone knew about the stories?”

  “Yeah, pretty much.”

  Two ducks waddled out of the water and stood before them, obviously hoping for something to eat. When the larger one began to quack, Lana rummaged in her purse and found a granola bar. She broke it into pieces and tossed it toward the birds. Quacking with renewed energy, the ducks attacked the morsels. Obviously alerted by the first two, more ducks moved toward their bench.

  “Now you’ve done it,” Chip said.

  “But they’re hungry,” Lana said.

  “I doubt that,” Chip said. “Everyone feeds them.”

  Shaking his head, Chip took another sip of coffee. So, softhearted Lana hadn’t changed as much as he’d feared. He fought a smile, finding it hard to stay mad at her. She might think she was a tough-as-nails cop, but she was also all about helping any creature in distress. Even if they didn’t need her help. Like these plump ducks.

  Like Dan.

  “Did anyone else on the team use?” she asked.

  “Use steroids, you mean?”

  Eyes wide, Lana switched her attention from the ducks to him. “Did they use anything else?”

  Chip shrugged. “Weed. But half the school s
moked pot. You know that.”

  “Not me.”

  “No, not you,” Chip agreed.

  “Or you.”

  “Being high messed up my timing on the skateboard,” Chip said. “I didn’t like that feeling, so I stayed straight.”

  She nodded and threw more granola to the ducks. “Any other drug use on the team?” she asked.

  “Are you asking as a cop or a friend?”

  She shot him another look.

  “I’m not going to rat out my high school friends eight years after the fact,” Chip said.

  “My questions aren’t about prosecution for illegal drug use. I only want to solve a murder.”

  “Statute of limitations is likely up, anyway,” Chip said. He’d have to look that up. “But as far as I know, there was no hard-drug use on the team. Just the occasional joint after a game. I never knew anyone to play high.”

  “Did you say anything about steroid use to the detectives investigating Dan’s murder?” she asked.

  “Don’t you have access to the old reports?”

  “Yes. I’m trying to determine how thorough the original detectives were.”

  “Was there anything in there about steroids?”

  She hesitated, but said, “No, and that seems strange to me if everyone on the team knew about the rumors. Someone should have mentioned it. At least Bubba, since he and Dan fought over it.”

  Watching the ducks, Chip didn’t answer.

  She threw the last of her granola to the ducks and turned to him. “So either the investigators were incompetent or...” She trailed off.

  Chip took a gulp of coffee and remained silent.

  “Or the entire team colluded not to mention the rumors about Dan’s steroid use,” she concluded.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHIP RELEASED A breath and stared at the disappointed ducks at his feet. Unbelievable. Only because of Lana’s dogged persistence would this shit come out eight years later.

  “Is that what happened, Chip?” she asked in a shocked voice. “Some sort of team decision not to say anything about steroids?”

  Chip stared out over the lake. “We did it to protect Dan.”