Lakeside Mystery Series Box Set

by Gregg Stutts

  “Okay, that’s good,” Willy said. “It gives us some time to get our plan together.”

  Max checked the time. “I’ve got about an hour before I need to get to the high school. That’s assuming I still have a coaching job. We have a scrimmage in Russellville tomorrow and as the head coach, I’d really like to have a feel for my own team.” He looked at Willy. “I think she still has someone following us.”

  “Why do you say that?” Willy asked.

  “She mentioned us being at a motel. One with a pool. I don’t think we’re safe here.”

  Willy stood and walked to the other side of the lobby. He ran his hands through his hair and stared out the window at the passing traffic on I-49. Then he crossed the lobby again, put his hand on Max’s shoulder and said, “I’m hungry. We need to go to breakfast. But first, I have to go to the bathroom.”

  Max watched Willy leave, then buried his face in his hands. Trying to hold his head up felt heavy. Lord, what is going on? How in the world did I get myself into this? He could feel his pulse beating in his temples. His stomach was queasy. His legs were rubbery. He sat quietly trying to get his thoughts in order.

  Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. Be strong and courageous.

  “A little easier said then done, Willy.” But Willy didn’t respond. Max looked up, but Willy was still in the bathroom. And other than the desk clerk who was twenty feet away talking on a cell phone, the lobby was empty. “Excuse me, did you say something?” Max asked the clerk.

  He stared at Max with a confused look, shook his head then went back to his cell phone.

  Willy exited the bathroom and said, “I’ll drive, Max. I’m in the mood for pecan waffles.”

  Over breakfast, the two men decided that while Max was at football practice, Willy would take the girls to another motel. When Max asked how he’d avoid being followed, Willy took the last bite of his waffles, wiped his mouth and winked.

  “What does that mean?” Max said.

  Willy leaned across the table and said, “Trust me. I know how to not be followed.”

  He wanted to ask Willy how he could be so sure, but sensed the answer was more than they had time for. As they drove back to the motel, Max found himself repeating, Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. Be strong and courageous.

  Chapter 84

  Before leaving the motel, Willy gave Max some pointers on how to not be followed. He wanted to know how Willy knew what he knew, but it could wait. He just followed Willy’s advice by varying his speed, changing lanes and exiting twice only to immediately get back on the interstate. As best as he could tell, he hadn’t been followed on the thirty-mile drive from the motel in Fayetteville to the high school in Lakeside.

  It felt good and right to be back on the practice field, although it felt like he’d been gone much longer than a couple of days. It was only the fifth day of practice, but the team lacked crispness. It all felt too relaxed. In a normal year, he may have chalked it up to the heat or having a young team. But it wasn’t a normal year. It was anything but normal. And the lack of energy was the result of his absence.

  Ten minutes before practice was scheduled to end at two o’clock, the temperature was ninety-eight degrees and the humidity felt just as high. If the thermometer hit one hundred degrees, he was planning to send them home, but it wasn’t one hundred. It was only ninety-eight. He called the team together at midfield and pointed out several players who’d showed him some hustle. The rest, he told them, looked like they’d rather be on the lake with their girlfriends.

  After telling them to be at the school no later than 8:00 a.m., ready to load the busses for the trip down to Russellville, he had them line up on the goal line at the north end of the field for sprints. The collective groan cost them an additional four hundred yarders, on top of the six he’d planned. It may not have been the smartest move the day before a scrimmage, but they had to learn there was a cost to not giving one hundred percent.

  Twenty minutes later, as the linemen stumbled across the goal line after their final sprint, Max noticed two police cars coming toward the stadium. Two uniformed officers and two others in plain clothes exited the cars and walked past the team as they headed toward the locker room. The four men walked to midfield, where Max was still talking with his assistant coaches.

  The older of the two men in suits introduced himself. “Mr. Henry, I’m Detective Young with the Bentonville Police Department.”

  The familiar sick feeling in his stomach was instant. He tried to tell himself not to be afraid, but it was too late. “How can I help you?”

  “Do you know a young man named, Josh Anderson?”

  The cell phone. What do they know? “Ah, yeah, well Josh used to play football for me. Why?” Max shoved his hands in his pockets so they wouldn’t notice how bad they were shaking. He couldn’t do anything about his trembling legs.

  The detective ignored the question. “Have you had any recent contact with Mr. Anderson?”

  “Why don’t you just tell me what this is about?” He didn’t mean for his words to sound as confrontational as they did, but he wanted this to be over.

  The detective glanced at the other man in a suit, then back at Max. “Josh Anderson was found dead in his apartment this morning.”

  He felt his head spin and the strength drain from his legs. He put his hands on his knees to steady himself. Dave Turner, his defensive coordinator, put his hand on Max’s shoulder. “Dead?” he said finally. “What happened?”

  “Looks like he may have come home and surprised one or more individuals who were already in his apartment.”

  It’s my fault. Max straightened up and said, “And how can I help?”

  “Your number showed up on his cell phone records.” The detective studied him. “A couple calls from you to him and from him to you.”

  “Like I said, he was a former player. Some of them like to stay in touch.”

  “Uh huh.” The man continued to stare. “Just this week he decided to stay in touch?”

  Ninety-eight degrees was beginning to feel a lot hotter. Not that he wasn’t already wet, but he could feel beads of sweat rolling down his face and neck. The heat was turning out to be a blessing in disguise. “You don’t think I’m involved in his death, do you?”

  “Should we think that?” the other detective said.

  It took every ounce of self-control to not take a swing at him and knock the smug look off his face. Dave Turner must have sensed the struggle because he tightened his grip on Max’s shoulder. “I think we’re done here.” Max brushed past the detectives followed by his assistant coaches.

  “If we have any other questions, we’ll be in touch,” one of them called out.

  Max ignored him as he strode toward the field house. “Dave, call the coach at Russellville. Express our regrets, but we’re cancelling the scrimmage. Tell him we’ve had a death in our program.” Max quickened his pace. “I’ll inform the team.” He stopped and turned to the other coaches. “Tomorrow is going to be an off day, but I want each of you guys to make sure the players under you show up here on Monday ready to go.” Max hurried off without further comment or fielding questions.

  Inside the locker room, he pulled the team together and explained the situation. Most of them didn’t even know Josh, but Lakeside football alums were considered to always be a part of the family, so it was a somber moment. No one asked him anything, so he gathered his notepads and briefcase and was out the door as quickly as he’d come in.

  He slammed Michelle’s van into reverse and stomped on the accelerator. As he sped toward the exit, he slammed his fist on the dashboard hard enough to put a crack in it. A moment later, he hit the brakes, came to a stop and opened the door just in time to throw up in the parking lot and not in Michelle’s van.

  He took a minute to catch his breath then exited the high school. His phone buzzed as came to a stoplight. “Hi Willy, what is it?”

  “Max, we have a bit of situation.”

 
Chapter 85

  “A situation? What does that mean, Willy? A situation?” Max pressed on the accelerator to make it through a yellow light.

  Willy cleared his throat. “We checked out of the motel this morning and got everything loaded into the rental car. I couldn’t see anyone watching our movements.”

  The car in front of him was going almost ten miles an hour under the speed limit. Max closed to within a few feet of the rear bumper and punched the horn. Despite the double-yellow line, he pulled into the oncoming lane and hit the gas. Fortunately, Michelle’s van had better acceleration than his old truck and he was able to pass and get back into his lane with no trouble.

  “So what’s the problem?” Max said, trying not to raise his voice at Willy.

  “Well, we got settled in our new motel. I’m one-hundred percent certain we were not followed.”

  Max increased his speed to just over sixty in a forty-five mile per hour speed zone. “What are you not telling me, Willy?”

  “Michelle has been gone for awhile.”

  “Gone for awhile? What does that mean? Gone where? For how long?” Max blew past another car in a no-passing zone. He looked at the clock. It was 2:33.

  “She said she wanted to get a bottle of wine, so against my better judgment, I let her take the rental car. That was a couple hours ago.”

  Max pulled out to pass another car, then saw a truck coming straight at him. He swerved back into his lane just in time. The truck driver gave a one-finger salute as he passed. “I’ll try calling her.” Max hung up and pressed the home button on his phone. “Call Michelle.”

  Chapter 86

  “Rose, I feel awful. I never should have let Michelle leave.” Willy rubbed his hands together then parted the drapes to look outside. “I know better.”

  Rose patted the bed then held her hand out to him. “Come sit down.” He joined her on the edge of the bed while Carrie slept on the other one.

  “What was I thinking?” he said. “I don’t blame Max if he’s angry with me.”

  “Now William, you listen to me. Michelle is going to be fine, so stop worrying and beating yourself up.”

  He stood and walked to the door, turned and walked to the window and then back to the door. “And how can you be so sure?”

  “I know it in my heart,” she said. “I was feeling anxious like you and just a few minutes ago, I prayed again for Michelle and felt a sense of peace.” She intercepted him on one of his round trips between the motel room door and the window and took his hands in hers. “I know Michelle is okay.”

  “Okay, dear,” he said. “I’ll trust you on this one.” He hugged her close and whispered, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  She kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll be right back,” she said and went into the bathroom.

  He watched Carrie’s chest slowly rise and fall with each breath. It had been many years since his own grandchildren were this little. He thought about each of his children and grandchildren, then wiped his eyes before Rose came back.

  She came out of the bathroom and sat down next to him. She held his hand and laid her head on his shoulder for a moment. Then fell to the floor.

  Chapter 87

  Max listened as the phone rang three, four, then five times without an answer. He was about to hang up.

  “Hello?”

  “Shelle! Where are you?”

  “Max, what’s wrong?”

  He accelerated through another yellow light and turned south onto I-49 toward Fayetteville. “What’s wrong with me? Nothing’s wrong with me. Willy said you were missing.”

  “Missing? I told them I was going to get a bottle of wine.”

  Max glanced over his shoulder and merged onto the interstate, then set the cruise control on seventy-eight. “Wasn’t that a couple hours ago?”

  “Oh my! I didn’t realize how late it was,” she said. “I’m so sorry. After I bought the wine, I stopped to get some snacks for the room and then I stopped to buy a book. I didn’t know how long we’re going to be stuck in a motel. I needed something to pass the time.”

  “It’s okay, Shelle. Just call Willy. Let him know you’re okay.”

  “I will,” she said. “See you soon.”

  “Wait, Shelle. Where are we staying?”

  “It’s the Razorback Lodge just off exit sixty-two.”

  He tossed his phone on the seat, turned the air-conditioner on high and tuned into the local sports station. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to release with it the tension he felt in every cell of his body.

  He tried to listen to the interview with the new head coach at Northern Arkansas State, but his thoughts kept returning to Josh. It wasn’t until his jaw began to hurt that he realized how hard he was clenching his teeth. There was no doubt in his mind, he had gotten Josh killed. And that was something he’d have to live with. But he also planned to do something about it.

  He changed the channel to a classic rock station and turned the volume up. An AC/DC song came on and transported him back to college. He turned it even louder and never heard the three missed calls from Willy.

  Chapter 88

  A few miles from the motel, Michelle saw the flashing lights and heard the siren coming up fast behind her. She pulled to the shoulder as an ambulance flew past. As she neared the motel, she saw the ambulance had joined a fire truck and police car parked in front of the entrance.

  Michelle parked and went inside. As she passed the front desk, she asked the desk clerk what was going on.

  “I think some lady got sick,” he said. “Or something like that.” He hunched his shoulders and went back to looking at his cell phone. Without looking up, he added, “Actually, I’m not really sure.”

  The hallway was crowded with firemen and paramedics. The activity was uncomfortably close to where their rooms were. Her walk turned to a jog then to a run. Then she saw Willy step into the hallway. “Willy! What’s wrong?”

  Before he could answer, a gurney was wheeled from the room. Rose was lying on it, unconscious, with an IV in her left arm and an oxygen tube below her nose. Michelle had never seen her look so pale. Or lifeless.

  “I don’t know what happened,” Willy said. “She went into the bathroom and when she came out, she just collapsed on the floor. I called 9-1-1, then tried calling Max, but he didn’t answer.”

  Michelle hugged him tight. “She’ll be okay.”

  “Carrie is still asleep,” he said. “She slept through the entire thing.”

  The paramedics wheeled Rose down the hallway. Willy followed. Halfway down the hall, he turned and said, “Take care of that little one. And let Max know I might not be able to go with him to the meeting tomorrow night. But I know he can handle it.”

  “Willy, please don’t worry about that right now. You just go take care of Rose. And let us know as soon as you hear anything.” He gave her a thumbs-up and turned to leave. She watched him hurry down the hall trying to keep up.

  Chapter 89

  With just over a week until the election, Blair Morgan was trying to hold together the fragile coalition of special interests who were supporting the Freedom Protection Act. She studied the latest poll again. It was almost impossible to believe the vote was projected to be so close despite the shootings and the case she’d made for making Lakeside a model for the nation, a place free of bigotry and judgment and hate speech.

  She could think of a thousand places she’d rather be on a Friday night at 10:00 o’clock than in her city council office in Lakeside, Arkansas, but here she was. Her time in Lakeside had felt like the longest three years of her life. She was ready to get back to Washington and vowed to herself to never accept another assignment like this one.

  She would certainly be making her displeasure known to whatever “expert” had chosen Lakeside as the test city. It had turned out to be far more difficult than any of them had imagined to get the law through the city council and then to fight off the election to overturn it.

&n
bsp; She opened the bottom right hand desk drawer and removed a bottle, a glass and a small black journal. After filling the glass halfway, she took a long swallow and began thumbing through the journal. She was surprised at both how many names there were, but also how many she had forgotten. It was a depressing trip down memory lane, chronicling her time in Lakeside.

  But it would all be coming to an end soon enough. The bribes, the blackmail and the backroom deals were about to pay off. As she flipped through the pages, it was clear a number of people would need to be reminded of their commitments and deliver the votes they’d promised her, and in many cases, been paid to deliver.