by Gregg Stutts
As he passed the exit for Asbury Park, he started thinking more about what he was going to do when he got to Seaside Park. He couldn’t just show up at the house. Even if he did, he probably shouldn’t expect to sleep there. He needed a plan, a place to say and the right words to say to Michelle. At the moment, he had none of them.
Two hours after landing in Newark, Max was crossing the Route 37 Bridge into Seaside Park. He turned south and passed Island Avenue where Michelle’s parents lived. A couple blocks later, he came to the Windjammer Motor Inn, a nice looking three-story motel just a couple blocks from the beach. The parking lot was mostly empty, which wasn’t surprising at this time of year.
He went inside and asked for a room on the third floor, paid for two nights and asked the clerk for the closest florist. Max took his bag to his room, which overlooked the pool, which was closed for the season. He set his suitcase on one bed and sat down on the other. The clock on the nightstand said 5:45 p.m.
He picked up his phone to call the florist and saw three missed calls and a voice mail from Bill Jackson and two more missed calls and a voice mail from a number he didn’t recognize. He was about to listen to the voice mails, but decided they’d have to wait. He’d come here to talk to Michelle. Work could wait for now.
The florist was closed, but the A&P grocery store he passed would probably have flowers. It wouldn’t be light out for much longer, so he decided to take a walk on the beach before getting the flowers and then…what? Just show up at the door? Call her first? He had no plan, which made him very uncomfortable.
It had been four years since Max had been to the Seaside Park beach. The last time was when Sarah was eleven. She was six the time before that. After she got sick, they’d made plans to come back again, but she just didn’t have the strength to make the trip. Now he wished they’d come every year while they still had her. The only reason they hadn’t was so he could spend more time preparing for upcoming football seasons.
Max walked up the ramp to the boardwalk, and then took his shoes and socks off before walking onto the beach. The sand was cool on his feet. He though about how much Sarah would have liked this.
He could feel the sadness welling up, which he knew was healthy, but he didn’t like feeling this way. Too many times, he’d allowed the sadness to become anger. And when he’d let it go unchecked, it became bitterness. It’s why he was even walking on a beach in Seaside Park, New Jersey instead of watching film of Northside. His bitterness had driven an enormous wedge between him and Michelle. And between him and God.
He walked back to his motel and as he turned a corner, he saw a man standing next to his rental car and another man on the third floor knocking on the door to his room. Neither man had seen him, so he stopped and hid around the side of the building. It was getting dark enough now that he wouldn’t be easily spotted.
He watched as the man at his door gave up knocking and went downstairs. He talked with the other man standing next to Max’s car. He watched them get into a car parked next to his with heavily tinted windows. He wouldn’t have even known they were in there had he not seen them get in. Thirty minutes later, they were still there. Waiting for Max to return.
He had no idea who they were or what they wanted or how they even knew where to find him. He could only think of three people who even knew he was in New Jersey—Willy, Rose and Bill Jackson. Who else would know he was here? Or would want to find him?
At least he’d taken his wallet and phone with him when he’d left the room. And then he wondered if they’d found him because he’d used a credit card to check in. Surely not. Who would have the ability or authority to access his financial transactions? It’s not like he was a fugitive.
These guys didn’t look like law enforcement. And then it occurred to him that maybe he’d been followed. But from where? The Newark airport? The Northwest Arkansas airport? But who would be following him and why?
He couldn’t go to his room or get to his car. And he didn’t know how long they’d wait around, so Max started walking. The sandwich in the airport felt like yesterday, so he walked a couple blocks to a sandwich shop and ordered a roast beef sub and a bottle of water. He paid cash, just in case the men looking for him were in fact able to track him through his credit card.
He was about to take a bite of his sub when his phone starting buzzing. He took it from his pocket and saw it was Bill Jackson calling again. Max quickly chewed the bite and swallowed. He tapped the screen. “Hello.”
“Have you listened to my voice mail?” Bill said with frustration in his voice.
“Not yet,” Max said. “What’s so urgent, Bill? I told you I’d be back on Monday.”
“Jack Murphy is dead,” Bill said.
CHAPTER 49
“Bill, what are you talking about?” Max said.
“Max, listen to me,” Bill said. “Jack’s body was found in a wooded area a few miles from the school. From what I understand, his car had a flat tire, he stopped to change it and the police think someone else stopped too. It looks like there was an altercation. And now Jack is dead.”
“Bill, I’m sorry Jack is dead,” Max said. It was only a little lie.
“Max, the police asked me for your number. Haven’t they called you?”
“Why would the police want to talk to me?” Max asked.
“Max, they’ve already looked at the footage from the security camera at the field house. You were there this morning with Jack.”
“So what?” Max said.
“You were most likely the last one to be seen with him and then you followed him out of the parking lot,” Bill said. “Not long after that he was found dead.”
“They think I had something to do with it?” Max said. “That’s crazy! I mean, I didn’t like the guy, but I would never kill him.”
Max was getting a strange look from the guy who’d made his sandwich.
Max lowered his voice and said, “Bill, this is crazy. You don’t think I would hurt Jack, do you?”
“Max, did you threaten Jack after the Rogers game?”
“Did I what?”
“Did you threaten Jack after the game Friday night in Rogers?”
Max tried to think. Had he? He couldn’t even remember what had happened after the game. “Bill, I don’t know. You know what it’s like after a game. If I said anything, it was just a heat of the moment thing.”
“You probably need to come home, Max. Let’s get this cleared up and then talk about when to get you back on the field.”
“What’s that mean, Bill? Are you suspending me?
“Just come home, Max.”
CHAPTER 50
Max ended the call and put his phone in his pocket. He wasn’t ready to listen to whatever voice mail the police may have left for him. He noticed the guy who’d made his sandwich was still looking at him funny. What had he heard? And misunderstood?
It probably wasn’t a good idea to stick around and find out. He wrapped his sandwich and walked outside into the cool, late-September evening in Seaside Park. What was he doing here? Who was looking for him? Why was he a possible murder suspect? How in the world had he gotten himself into this?
He walked two blocks east to the boardwalk and turned north toward Seaside Heights. Six weeks ago, there would have been thousands of people here. Tonight, just a handful. He looked around and was confident no one was following him. But what did he really know? He was a high school football coach from Arkansas, not an intelligence operative. Maybe his every step was being watched.
He walked a half-mile or so up the boardwalk, sat down on a bench and pulled his sandwich out. He was still hungry. And confused. He needed time to think. Time to plan. He couldn’t go back to his motel though. Not until he knew who was there waiting for him. And why.
He needed a place to sleep. To regroup.
He pulled his phone out and made the call.
And hoped Michelle would answer.
CHAPTER 51
She didn’t answer, so
it went to voice mail. He didn’t leave a message though. Anything he’d say at this point would sound pretty crazy. He took a bite of his sandwich and wondered what to do next. By the time he’d finished eating, he’d decided on his next step.
He got up and started walking toward Island Avenue where Michelle’s parents lived. It was a little after 9:00 p.m. He thought about how eleven hours ago, he was eating biscuits and gravy with Willy overlooking Beaver Lake. Now he was by himself, two blocks from the Atlantic Ocean and afraid to go back to his motel because of the two men staking out his room.
This kind of stuff just doesn’t happen. Not in real life, he thought. Not to high school football coaches. He was supposed to be at his kitchen table watching game film from the Rogers game, as much as he’d like to forget that game.
Just a block from their house, he still had no idea what he was going to say. He didn’t even know if Michelle would be home. If he didn’t see her car, should he leave or knock on the door and wait for her parents to answer? The whole situation was going to be awkward for everyone.
He turned the corner onto Island Avenue. Their house was on the south side of the street about half way down the block. It was dark, but the streetlight in front of their house was illuminating Michelle’s car. At least she was home, he thought.
And then he realized how nervous he was, not because of the men who were looking for him, but because he was about to see Michelle. Showing up unannounced was a gamble. He knew that. It was unlike him to do something so spur of the moment, but he’d listened to Willy. When it came right down to it though, he really didn’t even know Willy. And yet, here he was in New Jersey, because an old man he hardly knew had cashed in his frequent flyer miles.
Max tried to look on the positive side. Michelle might be happy to see him. Maybe she’d appreciate the fact that he’d come all this way, especially during football season. He knew that wasn’t likely though. It was much more likely she’d be shocked and then angry. As he neared the house, a car turned onto the street behind him. The headlights lit up the street and cast his shadow ten feet in front of him. Max could feel his heart start to pound as he realized it could be the men looking for him. Maybe they’d found him somehow.
The car approached him very slowly. He kept walking and looked straight ahead. He didn’t want to turn and allow them to see his face. He glanced to his right and thought about running between two houses and onto the next street. He could be a couple streets away before they were able to get around the block. Unless one or both of them got out of the car and ran after him. He decided to keep walking.
The car pulled alongside him, but then passed him by. He slowed his pace in case they stopped and waited for him to catch up. And then the car stopped about thirty yards in front of him and parked right behind Michelle’s car.
Max stopped and watched. He could see two people in the car. Slowly, he took several steps backward. If they were watching him in the mirror, he didn’t want them to see him start running yet.
After several steps, he stopped and waited. The streetlight above him was out, so they might not even see him in the shadows. The moon had been out earlier, but the wind was starting to blow the clouds ashore. He wondered if this was the beginning of hurricane Paul.
He kept his eyes on the car. And watched. The car was still running, the lights were on and the occupants were waiting inside. Maybe now would be his best chance to run. He thought about running the half mile back to the motel and getting his car, but there would be no way to get there before them.
He was about to turn and head back the other way, when the driver’s door opened. He saw one of the men get out and look up and down the street. And then he walked around to the passenger’s door and opened it.
And Michelle got out.
CHAPTER 52
Max watched as the man who’d been driving the car helped Michelle out and the shut her door. They stood on the sidewalk and talked for a moment and then hugged. It was a long embrace. And then he kissed her. And she didn’t resist. She kissed him back. And even from thirty yards away, Max could see it was an intense, passionate kiss.
Max’s first reaction was the same feeling he’d had when Michelle told him she wasn’t coming back. It was like being hit in the stomach and having the wind knocked out of him. His legs felt weak. His heart was pounding again. He felt lightheaded.
He’d suspected there might be someone she was seeing, but he didn’t want to believe it. He thought about sprinting the thirty yards and launching into the guy with a forearm to the head—the kind of hit that was illegal in football for good reason. He wanted to do the same thing to Jack Murphy. Of course, Jack was dead now so that wouldn’t be necessary. Before he was dead though.
He watched as they hugged again. Then the guy got back in the car and slowly drove away. Michelle stood on the street and watched until the car turned north onto Ocean Avenue and was out of sight. Max stayed where he was in the shadows as he watched Michelle sit down on the front steps of her parent’s house.
Max slowly walked down the street toward Michelle. If this wasn’t the definition of awkward, he didn’t know what was. He didn’t know if he wanted to cuss her out or beg for her forgiveness.
There weren’t any guidelines for situations like this. What exactly were the rules of etiquette when surprising your wife after you’ve seen her kissing another man…which you pushed her into…then having to tell her you’re a murder suspect…and being followed by two strangers?
And so Max did the only thing he could think of. He walked up the sidewalk, stopped in front of the house and sat down next to her. “Hi, Shelle,” he said.
“Hi, Max,” she said. She didn’t seem the least bit surprised he was there. And she didn’t seem to care that he’d just seen her with another man. They sat together on the front steps in silence. The only sound was the ever-increasing wind blowing in off the ocean.
After a few minutes, Max said, “We need to talk.”
CHAPTER 53
“Let’s walk,” Max said.
They walked east toward the boardwalk, which was just a couple blocks away. The closer they got to the ocean, the stronger the wind became. “The hurricane may be turning toward the coast,” Michelle said.
Max didn’t respond. They walked another hundred yards and came to the boardwalk. They turned north and began walking in the direction the wind was blowing, which made it easier to not only walk, but also hear each other.
“I guess you saw,” she said.
Max wanted to be angry. But he wasn’t. He was more grieved than angry. More sorry than upset. “Yeah,” was all he said.
They walked for a minute or so before Michelle spoke again. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“Shelle, you have no reason to apologize,” he said. “I’m the one that needs to apologize to you.”
They walked a little further then Michelle said, “He didn’t want to hear it, but that was goodbye,” she said.
Max waited for her to continue.
“I tried to tell him it was over. That it was wrong to keep seeing him. He wouldn’t accept it though. He said we’d talk again in the morning.”
“Was that Chris?” Max said. He knew she’d been in love with Chris before she met him.
“Yeah, it was Chris.”
They walked some distance in silence. The wind was getting stronger by the minute. The waves were crashing harder and closer to the boardwalk now.
They walked a little further, then Michelle said, “Now what?”
Max started to answer, but couldn’t shake the feeling he was being followed. And now standing under a light on the boardwalk, he was feeling a little too exposed. He looked up and down the boardwalk and then behind him on the street. He didn’t see anyone, but still didn’t feel safe standing under the light.
He led Michelle a little further up the boardwalk in between light poles where they sat down on a bench looking out onto the dark Atlantic Ocean.
“I’m not sure wher
e to even start,” he began. “So much has happened. So much I don’t even understand. Shelle, I know I failed. Badly. I let you down.” Max was quiet for a moment. “I have no excuse.”
Michelle was quiet. The wind and waves were getting louder though.
“I was angry,” he said. “At God. At life. At myself for not being able to do anything to help Sarah. It’s not an excuse though.”