Hart, Catherine

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Hart, Catherine Page 27

by Impulsive


  "That's fine with this overrated Romeo," Ty replied with sardonic humor.

  "Can we sort all this out later?" Jess submitted wistfully. "I'm supposed to avoid stress, remember? Besides, I'd prefer to handle one crisis at a time, if possible."

  Ty went straight from Thursday's practice to Jess's apartment and announced, "I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?"

  "The good," Jess decided. "The bad, maybe never, depending on how awful it is."

  "Gabe is out of the hospital. He might even be able to play a series or two in Sunday's game."

  Jess beamed. "That's great! We ought to have him and Corey over for dinner, to celebrate. Mom, you'd help me prepare the meal, wouldn't you? Nothing fancy. Maybe spaghetti and meatballs? Of course, I'll have to check first, and make sure Gabe isn't on a restricted diet."

  "Whatever we have, I'll do most of the work," Claudia insisted. "You are supposed to be taking it easy, young lady."

  "I'm already turning into a lazy sloth," Jess complained. "Tomorrow, like it or not, I'm going back to work."

  "Oh, no you're not!" Claudia declared adamantly.

  "Try it, and I'll borrow Haggardy's handcuffs and cuff you to your bed!" Ty warned at the same time.

  "Gee, you guys! Cut me some slack!" Jess exclaimed. "What's so hard about sitting at my computer and doing a little research? I'll be pounding keys, not railroad spikes, for crying out loud."

  "You could have been more specific," Ty said, climbing down off his high horse. "I thought you meant football practice."

  "I did, too," Claudia admitted. "I suppose a couple of hours at your computer wouldn't hurt, as long as you don't tire yourself." She turned to Ty with a grin. "Boy! For a minute there I could have sworn I was hearing Jess's dad laying down the law. You sounded just like Mike, Sr., when he had a burr under his saddle about something."

  Jess's smile was a little wobbly. "He did sound like that, didn't he? They say, subconsciously or otherwise, a girl looks for a guy like her father. Do you suppose that's one of the reasons I fell for Ty?"

  Ty wasn't buying it. "Because I yell at you? What kind of nonsense is that?"

  "Nonsense or not, it wouldn't be a top priority with me," Claudia remarked. "Though I do like an assertive man. No mealymouthed wimps for me, thanks."

  "Me, either," Jess agreed. "How can a gal have a good argument with a man who won't stand up to her? It would take all the fun out of winning. Which reminds me of something else I wanted to ask you, Mom. Have you talked to Tommy lately?"

  Her mother frowned. "No, and what brought him to mind, may I ask?"

  "You mentioning Dad, I guess. A while back, Tommy phoned me in his godfather mood and was haranguing me about this and that. I lost my temper, told him he didn't have any right to boss me around, that he wasn't my father. In response, he announced that he should have been, and hung up on me. It sort of rocked me, you know?"

  Claudia groaned. "Don't tell me he's back to grinding that old ax again? I thought once he'd married Anita, that was all water under the bridge."

  "Am I missing something?" Ty asked in confusion. "You've lost me."

  "In a nutshell, I met Tom before I did Mike," Claudia explained. "We went out a couple of times, but nothing serious was developing between us, at least not on my side. Then, Tom introduced me to his best friend, and I fell for Mike like a ton of bricks, and vice versa. Though all three of us remained fast friends for over fifteen years, I think Tom has always held a bit of a grudge that he had first dibs and it didn't work out. But what can I say? He just didn't trip my trigger."

  "So he hangs that on Jess?" Ty said in annoyance. "Infers that she should have been his daughter? That's a crappy thing to do."

  "I thought so, too," Jess concurred, "but I chalked it up to all the stress he's been under since Anita came down with Alzheimer's, and dismissed it. He's been in some awfully rotten moods lately, not his usual jovial self at all."

  "Perhaps I should talk to Anita while I'm here," Claudia suggested. "Get her feel on things."

  Jess sighed sadly. "She'd love seeing you again, Mom, if she's able to recognize you. From what Tommy says, she rarely has a good day anymore. He's been urging me to go visit, but I've been putting it off. I know I should be ashamed of myself, but I want to remember her the way she was before, so bright and vibrant."

  "You can go with me, if you want," Claudia offered. "If Anita is in a muddled state, I suppose I could break down and talk to Tom personally, though I'd rather not. Still, he is your godfather, and he was there for us after your dad and brother died, even if it was primarily for his own selfish purposes. It can't be easy for him, seeing Anita deteriorate before his eyes. Maybe I can talk him into joining one of those Alzheimer's support groups. But I swear, if Tom makes the first snide comment about John, I'll pop him one. I've had it with trying to convince him that I made the right choice, twice running, and that I will never want him in any romantic way."

  "Good luck," Jess murmured.

  "Speaking of luck, or the lack thereof, reminds me. Do you want to hear the bad tidings now?" Ty queried.

  "Concerning what?" Jess hedged.

  "The Knights. The stadium."

  "Might as well," Jess relented. "Lay it on me."

  Ty grinned devilishly. "I can't. Not in front of your mother."

  "Stop fooling around, and tell us," Claudia directed with a mock scowl.

  "While we were lolling around in Miami, some person or persons unknown took it upon themselves to revamp the stadium—and not for the better. They thoroughly vandalized the office area, and most of the vendors' stalls. Stole several rolls of preprinted admittance tickets and assorted merchandise. They upset files, desks, cash registers—everything that wasn't nailed down, and then some. Strew papers and food stuff and souvenirs all over hell's half acre. Then they stopped up the drains and toilets and turned the water on in all the rest rooms, including those in the locker rooms, overturned about half of the lockers, broke out windows, and made off with a variety of team equipment."

  "Good grief!" Jess exclaimed. "All that?"

  "Oh, that's not the sum of it," Ty proclaimed. "After they finished with the trivial ransacking, they went on to the field. Hacked up the sport turf and tried to set it on fire, broke some of the seats, and shot about a dozen holes in the overhead dome. All in all, the place resembles a war zone."

  "So much for hoping to catch Tom in a good mood," Claudia muttered. "Even if the insurance covers most of the cost, I imagine it's going to take a bundle to restore the stadium."

  "Not to mention time and labor," Jess added. "How could you even practice, with the field in such shambles?"

  "Coach Danvers arranged for us to use the Ohio State field, for practice only, and only when the Buckeyes aren't using it. Workers are already trying to clean up the mess at the dome. They've been at it since Tuesday morning. Hopefully, they'll get enough accomplished so we can play there on Sunday. If not, we may have to forfeit the game."

  "Where was our handy-dandy night watchman while all this was happening?" Jess inquired curiously.

  "As I understand it, he'd taken Sunday off to attend a family reunion. His replacement didn't show up. Apparently, no one realized anything was wrong until a motorist reported hearing gunshots Sunday evening. By the time the police arrived, the vandals were long gone, having saved their noisiest shenanigans 'til last."

  "Wow!" Jess sat back on the couch and tried to imagine the extent of the damage, and the immense task of reparation. "Those were some very busy hooligans! Presumably not our best fans, either. Do the police have any idea who is behind it?"

  "Not as yet, but they're hopeful, as always. By the way," Ty added nonchalantly, slanting a quick glance at Claudia before pinning his sharp gaze on Jess, "Haggardy sends his regards. He'll try to get by to see you around the first of the week."

  Jess frowned, but caught on quickly enough to say lamely, "That's nice."

  "Who's Haggardy?" Claudia asked.

 
"Just a team benefactor of sorts," Ty told her. Swiftly, he changed the subject. "Enough about the Knights and all their woes. I'm starving. Would anyone care to split a king-sized sub sandwich with me? I'll spring for it."

  Beyond all expectations, the work crews had managed to whip the stadium into reasonable shape in time for Sunday's game against the Kansas City Chiefs. The mess on the field had been raked up, and new turf laid. They had roped off the section of damaged seats, lashed tarps over the holes in the dome as a temporary measure, and replaced the broken lighting. Though many of the shops and refreshment stands were still closed, the locker rooms had been restored enough to use. A local printer had run off a new batch of tickets for this week's game and was working on printing up the remainder.

  While disappointed that Jess would not be playing, Josh was tickled to be able to sit with her at the game. He also got to meet Claudia and John for the first time, and promptly set about charming the socks off his prospective grandparents.

  The Chiefs were in a slump, which should have given the Knights quite an advantage, if not for the disruptions in their practice routines. As it was, by the end of the third quarter, the Chiefs were leading by three points. Even with Gabe back in action, their defense was effectively keeping Ty and his offense from gaining much ground.

  In the first series of the fourth quarter, the Knights made it as far as the Chiefs' forty-five-yard line. It was fourth down, and there was no way Sam Miller, the team punter who was subbing for Jess, could kick a field goal from that range. It was a rare kicker who could do it.

  With the clock stopped for an injured Chiefs' player, Sam was gearing up to punt when Jess leapt from her seat. "I can't stand just sitting here! It's driving me crazy!"

  In seconds, she had climbed the railing separating the lower tier of seats from the team area and, with a hand from one of the coaches, was down on the ground. Already wearing her jersey, in support of her team, she marched up to Sam and demanded, "Give me your helmet."

  "What?"

  "Just hand it over."

  Danvers approached her at a lope. "Jess! What are you doing?"

  "I'm going to kick that sucker through those uprights," she declared determinedly. "I'm still on the roster, aren't I?"

  "Yes, but Ty's going to have a cow."

  "Then we'll have beef for the winter, won't we?"

  To Ty's astonishment, since he had yet to realize that Jess was now in the game, the coach signaled for a field goal. "He's out of his ever-lovin' gourd," Ty grumbled to Gabe. "Set up for a fake."

  That's exactly what the opposing team did as well, certain that's what the Knights' strategy was, now that their star kicker wasn't playing. Everyone was lining up in his slot when Ty looked back to find Jess in Sam's place. If his teeth hadn't been firmly rooted, he would have swallowed all thirty-two of them.

  Jess merely grinned. "The ball, Ty. Set it," she reminded him just in time.

  Through sheer instinct and all their practice, Ty caught the pitch and placed it properly. As her leg whizzed past his face, he got a glimpse of her bare foot and five pink-enameled toenails. Needing distance versus so much height, the ball skimmed over the fingertips of the Chiefs, who were leaping to block the kick. Like a rocket, it soared into the end zone, clearing the bar by a fraction of an inch.

  The home crowd and the Knights went crazy. Jess had just tied the score and accomplished the all-but-impossible—a sixty-two-yard field goal! A mere yard shorter than the standing NFL record! Her teammates, Ty in the lead, converged around her to heft her onto their shoulders and carry her off the field.

  "I ought to beat your fanny for pulling a stunt like this!" he bellowed over the cheers echoing throughout the stadium.

  "Jess, you're a doll!" Gabe yelled.

  "Can we have your foot bronzed?" Chili hollered.

  When they finally put her down on the sidelines, Jess rounded on them, her fists on her hips and her features drawn into a scowl. "Okay, you guys, shape up and do the rest on your own! Don't make me come down here again and bail your worthless butts out of trouble. And win, dammit!"

  Abashed, but grinning, they saluted her like a troop of well-trained soldiers. "Yes, ma'am!" they clamored as one—all but Ty, who was still glowering at her with smoldering blue eyes that threatened retribution.

  CHAPTER 28

  Bright and early Monday morning, Haggardy was rapping on Ty's door. Jess let him in, to find him standing there with a box of cinnamon rolls. "What's that? A peace offering?"

  "If you want to look at it that way," he said, shouldering past her. "That was some field goal you kicked yesterday. You must be feeling better."

  "She was, before she jammed her toe executing that barefoot kick," Ty said as he joined them in the living room. "Which is the only reason I didn't throttle her. I figured she was suffering enough for her stupidity."

  Haggardy eyed Jess's bandaged toe and actually chuckled, a feat Jess had thought he couldn't perform without having his face crack into a million pieces. "Well, you won the game, by a single point, so I suppose it was worth it."

  He sobered again and announced, "We found out who vandalized the stadium. It was a street gang. Some supposedly unknown party passed a note and a hundred dollars to one of the members. Left it on the counter at a local bakery run by the punk's family. I questioned him again earlier, and he still insists he doesn't know who left the note. Only that it informed him that the stadium would be empty and unguarded that particular night, and if his gang would vandalize it, they would be paid five thousand dollars. They did, and they were. The money was passed along in the same manner."

  "So that's why you appeared bearing donuts," Jess deduced. "Not out of any fondness or remorse."

  Haggardy shrugged. "I thought of it as killing two birds with one stone."

  "So, are the gang members in jail?" Ty inquired.

  "Out on bail," Haggardy replied. "Par for the course." He accepted the cup of coffee Ty held out to him with a nod of thanks. "I've been trying to unravel this mystery, but everytime I think I've got a handle on it, something else pops up. Like that cheerleader being strangled in Miami. It just doesn't fit with the rest of the puzzle, not if we're going on the theory that someone is out to ruin the Knights. The stadium, I can see. Even Jess's overdose could apply, whether this Shultz woman was our culprit or not. But how would killing Bambi do any damage to the team? I mean, she's not a major player, a backer, or even dating one of the players."

  "An emotional hit?" Jess suggested. "Another means of reinforcing fear, distrust, and dismal spirits among the Knights?"

  "It's a thought," Haggardy conceded, "but my gut tells me there's more to it. I just don't know what."

  "You sound as if you're not sure Bambi is responsible for spiking Jess's drink, either," Ty noted. "Any particular reason?"

  "Oh, she probably did it, but I have to wonder if the idea was hers or somebody else's, or a combination of the two."

  "You think Bambi could have been in on this whole situation from the start?" Jess surmised.

  "At this point, I'm not sure who's in and who's out. There seem to be any number of people involved, and my suspects are getting bumped off almost as fast as the victims. First Dr. Johnson is our primary suspect, a person capable of hanging Ervin, tampering with the drug testing, poisoning Rome— perhaps even of shooting Crumrine, and knocking Ty in the head and attacking him at the hospital. But he can't be the one who sent you those last couple of threats, Jess."

  He took a breath, and went on. "Now, Miss Shultz could have poisoned Rome. She had access to the locker room, and if she was in league with Johnson, he could have supplied the arsenic. Poison and drugs rank high as preferred methods of murder by females. They tend to shy away from anything involving blood and guts. She may also have killed Johnson, or aided in his demise—and sent you those threats, Jess, as well as dosing your punch. But Ty and the nurse on duty at the hospital both claim their assailant was a man. Moreover, Bambi was in the morgue in Miami when t
he payoff was made for vandalizing the stadium. So, we still have at least one assassin, if not more, on the loose, any way you cut it. It wouldn't surprise me to discover that one of them did Bambi in, for whatever reason. Maybe to keep her from blabbing."

  "This is getting awfully complicated," Jess declared, trying to assimilate all of Haggardy's suppositions and mentally file them away.

  "Isn't it, just?" Ty agreed. "So, we may have had two previous suspects—Johnson and Bambi—both out of the picture now, and neither responsible for the latest dastardly deed."

  Haggardy gave a curt nod. "That's the way it looks."

  "Am I still on your most-wanted list?" Jess inquired archly. "Could be I slipped myself a mickey, knowing Ty would save me, just to throw you a curve."

  Haggardy smirked. "Then you're not as smart as I'm giving you credit for. As I hear it, you came within a hair of cashing in your chips for good."

  "Yes, but Bambi may have done it solely out of jealousy, and had nothing to do with any of the other incidents. Her death may not even be connected to your case—just your run-of-the-mill Miami murder," Jess pointed out. "Which would put me back on the roster of possible criminals, wouldn't it?"

  "Holy crap, Jess!" Ty exclaimed, throwing up his hands in exasperation. "Stop egging him on. Do you want Haggardy suspecting you?"

  Jess released a catty smile. "No, I was just hoping he'd finally admit how asinine that presumption was from the start."

  "Okay, so I jumped the gun a bit," the detective conceded. "I was just trying to cover all the bases."

  "If that's an apology, I've heard better," Jess groused. "But I accept."

  "Where to from here?" Ty asked.

  Haggardy enumerated on his fingers. "Back to questioning those gang members, investigating disgruntled players and those cut from the team, analyzing evidence, going through a heap of paperwork with a fine-tooth comb, trying to keep the rest of the Knights alive, looking for more clues and possible motives. Believe me, I've got more than enough to do. Too bad they haven't perfected cloning, particularly for humans. I could use another me right about now."

 

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