“Is it that bad?”
Logan always appeared to be happy and carefree. On the football field, he played with complete abandon. Riley had no idea that he dealt with doubts.
“It’s getting better every week. He didn’t think he would ever play again. I can’t blame him for being cautious. He was in a dark place when we met. Each game is a gift because he knows what it’s like to have it taken away.”
“That’s the key, isn’t it? You have to enjoy the moment instead of worrying about what might happen.”
“Exactly.”
It was good advice. And Riley planned on taking it to heart in her own life. Enjoy Sean—here and now.
“That’s a nice smile,” Claire said. “Want to share its source?”
“I’m happy.”
“Me, too.”
“Good.” Riley snatched up her purse. “How about some lunch?”
“That Mexican place over on Hawthorne? My treat.” Claire linked her arm with Riley’s. “My business partner tells me that I can afford it.”
Buoyed by their mutual good moods, they decided to walk to the restaurant. It was a sunny December day. Brisk but not freezing.
Riley and Claire turned a few heads. One tall and slender, the other more compact, with curves in all the right places. But it was their glowing faces that drew the most attention. Beauty, inside and out. It was an irresistible combination.
“Riley,” a voice called out.
Hearing her name, Riley turned one way then the other.
“Over here!”
Riley didn’t know what to call it. A whispered shout? Across the street, Sapphire stood in the shadowed doorway of a hardware store. She waved her arms, looked around furtively, then ducked out of sight.
“That’s not the least bit odd,” Claire frowned.
“Are we supposed to go over there?”
“Logan loves spy thrillers. I’ve watched so many I think I’m becoming paranoid.” Claire glanced around for anyone in a trench coat. “If this were a movie, the smart thing would be to keep on moving. Shadowed figures never bode well for the protagonists.”
“Riley!”
“I think we should take our chances.” Still holding Claire’s arm, she pulled her across the street. “But just in case, you keep a watch out.”
“Laugh all you want. If a big black sedan comes barreling down the street, you’ll be glad I had your back.”
“What are you going to do? Pull out your Glock and shoot the tires?”
When Claire didn’t answer, Riley stopped in her tracks.
“Are you carrying a gun?”
“No. Logan talked me out of getting a permit. I’m rethinking the decision. We had an ambush situation in Oklahoma.”
“Rein it in, Annie Oakley. This is downtown Seattle. And that is Sapphire. I say we take our chances.”
“Thank goodness. Come out of the light.” Sapphire nervously licked her lips, her eyes darting from side to side. Normally put together from top to bottom, the woman looked frazzled. Not messy—but a bit of a mess. The buttons on her jacket were in the wrong holes and she was missing color on her upper lip.
Whatever was wrong, it had Sapphire off her game.
The doorway was a tight fit for three grown women, but Sapphire seemed determined not to move, so Riley went with it.
“What is going on?” Riley felt like a human sardine.
“I was afraid I wouldn’t catch you in time.”
“In time for what? Why didn’t you simply call me instead of recreating a scene from Three Days of the Condor?”
“Oh, that was a good one,” Claire nodded.
“I tried to call. It went to voicemail.”
“Crap.” Riley took out her phone. She turned it off when she plugged it in last night and forgot to turn it back on.
“I shouldn’t be doing this.” Sapphire moved farther into the shadows, her eyes darting toward the street. “But you were nice to me. Besides, this is wrong.” From her bag, Sapphire pulled out a mini-iPod. “There’s something you need to hear. I hope it isn’t too late.”
“Too late?” Riley’s gaze met Claire’s. That didn’t sound good.
“Listen.” Sapphire hit the play button.
She had no idea how long the recording lasted. A minute? An hour? As she listened to the voices plot the unthinkable, Riley felt first cold then unbearably hot.
“This has to be a joke,” Claire exclaimed. “A sick, sick joke.”
It wasn’t a joke. It was her father. And he was deadly serious.
Without a word, Riley ran in the direction of the parking garage housed under her condo. Claire was at her side.
“Start making calls,” she said, her voice unnaturally calm. “Anyone and everyone. Make them listen.”
“Sapphire ran in the other direction.”
“She warned us. I guess that was as far as her courage could carry her.”
Riley didn’t have time to worry about that. She was too busy staying upright and not breaking an ankle. For the first time in years, Riley cursed her four-inch heels. They slowed her down, but she didn’t have time to take them off. She dialed as she ran.
No luck. She skipped Sean and Gaige. They wouldn’t have their phones with them on the field. Wednesday meant everyone was at practice running full drills. There was no use wasting time trying to reach them directly.
“No one is answering.” Claire’s fingers were white where she gripped her phone.
“Keep trying.”
Riley wanted to scream and kick and punch anything in her path. But now wasn’t the time. She had to hold her emotions in check. If she started to cry, she might never stop.
Thirty feet from her car she used the remote to unlock the doors and start the engine.
“Where the hell is everybody?” No one answered at Knights’ headquarters. “I’ve tried the front desk. The training room. Damn it. This can’t be happening.”
Riley’s hand shook as she tried to insert the key into the ignition.
“Do you want me to drive?” Claire hesitated before buckling her seatbelt.
“No.” On her third try, the key slipped in. “Just keep phoning. The building can’t be deserted.”
If they were lucky, they could get to the field in less than an hour. That would be pushing it. Praying for light traffic and no police cars, Riley sped around the corner. She heard Claire leaving messages. So far she had reached nothing but voicemail.
“Finally.” Claire pumped her fist. “I have the head of maintenance. He can get security.”
“No. That’s perfect. Put him on speakerphone.” Riley’s heart was in her throat. She swallowed, trying to make room for her words.
“Deacon? This is Riley Preston.”
“Riley? Is that panic I hear in your voice? Tell me what you need.”
Thank God. She had known Deacon Michaels when he cleaned floors at an hourly wage. He would turn a blind eye to her slinking around the stadium—always making sure she stayed safe. Now he was top man and exactly the person Riley needed.
“I don’t have time to explain, Deacon.”
“Then stop talking and tell me what’s up.”
“I need you. And every man you can get your hands on.”
Riley merged into traffic saying a silent prayer. Please, don’t let them be too late.
“THAT LAST PLAY looked like shit. Where the hell are your heads? You think Miami is going to roll over and let us stroll into the end zone just because we have a better record?”
Harry Coleman stopped in front of a big rookie offensive lineman. Without a word, he had the younger man fidgeting from side to side.
“He did the same thing to me when I was a rookie.” Logan shook his head. “I got the look in training camp. I sweated bullets, convinced he was going to cut me.”
“He singles a newbie out every year,” Gaige said with a chuckle. “Pretty boy here almost lost his lunch when his turn came.”
“I was green around the gills
for a month,” Sean agreed. It was easy to smile now. Eight years ago, he couldn’t find any humor in it.
They were on the practice field and things weren’t going well. Normally sure-handed receivers dropped passes. Running backs acted as though the ball was covered in grease. Ha. Good one. Greased pig skin. Wisely, Sean kept the joke to himself.
The offensive line had more holes in it than swiss cheese. If there were ever a time for Harry to pull out his patented rookie mind-screw, this was it.
“And you.” Harry turned on Rob Cotter.
“What did I do?” Rob’s eyes darted around the field, landing on anything but the coach. “I’ve been playing hard all practice.”
“Too hard. Those are our guys on the other side, Cotter. Pull up before you do some damage. Understood?”
“I can’t help it if the offensive line isn’t doing their jobs.”
“Are you arguing with me?”
“No, Coach.” Rob wiped the sweat from his upper lip. He’d taken something before practice. A pill meant to chill his nerves. It seemed to be having the opposite effect. “You’re the boss.”
“Damn straight.” Impossible as it seemed, the volume of his voice rose. “That seven and two record doesn’t mean shit. Miami will be gunning for us. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Coach,” the team chanted as one.
“If I get the impression a single one of you is looking past Sunday, I will ream you a new one.” He got in the rookie’s face. “You want to walk around with two assholes?”
“No, sir.”
“I love that man.” Sean whispered the words, but the men standing next to him heard and agreed wholeheartedly.
“What the hell?” Harry’s attention shifted to the end of the stadium. “Get off my field. Now!”
Puzzled, Sean turned. Close to a dozen men ran toward them at full speed. They wore jackets in the team colors, the blue and gold signaling that they worked for the Knights. However, they didn’t belong on the field in the middle of practice.
“Sorry, Coach.” Deacon Michaels faced Harry Coleman without an ounce of visible fear. His burly arms were crossed, his feet planted a shoulder’s width apart. Behind him, the other men mimicked the stance. “We have our orders. No one makes another move until Ms. Preston gets here.”
Riley? Sean shrugged when everyone looked his way. He was as puzzled as they were.
“Deacon, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Deacon, Ms. Preston doesn’t have the authority to interrupt my team during practice. Get your asses out of here right now and maybe, maybe, you’ll keep your jobs. In ten seconds, I won’t give you any guarantees.”
“With all due respect, Coach.”
“Don’t say it,” Harry warned.
“We aren’t budging.”
Sean worried that Harry was on the brink of blowing something vital. The red face, the bugged-out eyes. The steam coming out of his ears. None of that boded well for Harry’s health.
“We’ll take care of them, Coach.” Rob Cotter and five massive linemen stepped forward.
“You.” Deacon pointed. “Ms. Preston told me to keep a close eye on you.”
Rob swallowed, but backed by his teammates, he held his ground.
“Stand down.” No one made a noise, yet Harry’s voice was getting louder. “Do you want to break your hand three days before the next game?”
“No. The idea was to break Sean’s leg.”
Out of breath, a pair of high-heeled boots in one hand and gripping her phone with the other, Riley ran to Harry—but her eyes were on Sean. Close behind, Claire stopped beside Logan. Seeing the questions in his eyes, she shook her head, then she took his hand and squeezed.
“You want to explain?” Harry growled.
“Are you okay?” Riley asked Sean.
“I’m fine. What about you?” Dropping his helmet, Sean took Riley into his arms.
“Great. Now.” Riley’s arms circled his waist, never wanting to let go. She didn’t care about the sweaty uniform or bulky pads. Sean was in one piece. Thank God.
“This is sweet.” Harry’s words dripped with sarcasm and heat. “You’ve disrupted practice and if I’m not mistaken, accused one of my players of something heinous. You’d better start explaining.”
“Not here.” Reluctantly, Riley let Sean go. “Please, Harry. The damage is already done. Give me ten minutes. If you don’t agree that I did the right thing, I’ll let you ban me from the stadium. Permanently.”
That was enough for Harry. He knew two things about Riley. One. She didn’t go around crying wolf. And two. She loved the Knights too much to risk being banned. Whatever was happening, it was serious.
“Well, I’m not standing around for this shit. If practice is over, I going home.” Rob Cotter blustered.
“You leave the stadium, you’re off the team.” Harry pinned Rob with his steely gaze. “That goes for everyone. Hit the showers, but stick around.”
“This is your rodeo,” Harry said to Riley. “Who do you need?”
“You, Sean, and Gaige.”
“Come on. Let’s go to my office.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“SHOULD I BRING everyone some coffee?”
“This isn’t a social call,” Harry barked at his secretary.
Used to his ways, the woman didn’t blink an eye or miss a beat. Without looking up, she continued rapidly typing away.
“Should we call your father in on this?”
“Believe me, he already knows.”
Riley waited until the men were seated. Deciding to let the recording do the talking, she silently pulled the iPod out of her purse and hit play. The voices were instantly recognizable. Gerald Preston. And Rob Cotter.
“You’ve been betting on games.”
“Never on the Knights.”
“Son of a bitch.” Stunned, Gaige shook his head.
“You think that matters?” Gerald laughed. “Ask Pete Rose how that defense worked for him. You won’t play another down if word of this leaks.”
“I was done after this season. What difference does it make?”
“Reputation can earn you a few bucks after you retire. Yours will be shot. However. Do me a little favor and you’ll get out of this without the stink of a cheater.”
“Fuck that. You mentioned money. Lots of it.”
There was a pause. Riley could almost see her father’s sly smile.
“Five million. In an untraceable offshore account.”
“Who do I have to kill?” Rob laughed.
“Not murder. Simply mayhem. Break Sean McBride’s leg. Or arm. Pick a bone. As long as it takes him out for the rest of the season. I’ll throw in two million if the injury ends his career.”
Riley couldn’t look at Sean. She felt too sick and ashamed.
“How am I supposed to pull this off?”
“Things happen during practice. Blindside him. No one will call it anything but an unfortunate accident.”
“They might call it deliberate.”
“Who cares. The Knights won’t win squat without McBride. You can sit at home on your pile of money and watch them flame out in the first round of the playoffs.”
This time, it was Rob who paused. For a heartbeat.
“I get to teach McBride a long overdue lesson and get paid for it? Consider it done.”
Stunned didn’t begin to describe the silence that filled the room. Thick and oppressive, Riley closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable barge.
“Where did you get that.” Unlike on the field, Harry’s voice held no emotion.
Not what she had expected, but it was as good a first question as any.
“My…” Riley couldn’t bring herself to call him her father. “Gerald’s assistant. It seems he’s been playing Richard Nixon. Every conversation in his office is recorded. She took a big chance, getting me the recording.”
“I’m flummoxed.” Harry sighed. “What’s our move? Turn the recording over to the
police?”
“Tempting. But no.” Between panic and nausea, the drive to the stadium had given Riley time to think. “If everyone agrees, I say we handle it internally. That means keeping this between the four of us. Five if you count Claire. Make that six.”
“Logan,” Gaige nodded. “Okay. I get where you’re going. I agree. The team doesn’t need the kind of media circus this story would create. However, Gerald and Rob can’t walk away scot free. What they planned is unconscionable.”
“I agree. What should we do?”
“Sean?”
“Hmm?” Shaking away the haze of disbelief, Sean looked at Gaige. “What?”
“Your career was at stake. What do you want to do?”
“Burn the bastards.” Sean slammed his fist onto the arm of his chair, rattling the frame. “What the hell? Why?”
“You know the answer.”
“Riley.” Sean held out his hand. “Please.”
She was too tired to argue. The adrenaline surge that had gotten this far was dropping fast. Riley dropped into the seat next to Sean.
“I don’t have any answers. Except this. We all know why you were targeted. If all he wanted to do was derail the Knights, why not take out Gaige?”
“Because Gerald wanted to hurt you and the team.” Sean didn’t like how cold her hand was. He rubbed it between his, hoping to provide some heat. “He’s a bastard. We’ve always known that.”
“This reaches a different level.” Gaige patted Riley’s back. His mind was working a mile a minute, trying to figure out a solution to this mess.
“Here is my suggestion. Tell the team it was an outside threat. Cut Rob. Use the recording as leverage. Hopefully, he’ll be smart enough to slither into a very deep hole and keep his mouth shut.”
“What about…”
“My father?” Riley’s tried to smile, but her lips wouldn’t cooperate. “We can’t avoid calling him what he is Sean. He’s my father. And he’s my problem.”
“What does that mean?” Sean stood when she did.
“It means the three of you have a game to get ready for.”
“And you?” Gaige asked.
Riley paused by the door. Without turning, she said, “I’m going to dropkick his ass as far as humanly possible.”
After All These Years (One Pass Away #2) Page 17