by S. J. Bishop
"Listen," Treena said, trying to placate me. "I'll keep looking into Mason, but I really think Anderson is the key to everything. It only makes sense. You used to date Emily. Clearly, he's jealous."
"I didn't date her. We were just fucking." I saw Treena wince and wished I hadn't said that.
"Anyway," she continued, her face more drawn, "we've already searched the locker room a thousand times. There's nothing else there to find."
"Have you searched Mason's locker?"
"Yes," she replied. "We searched all the lockers. There was nothing there."
"But that doesn't mean anything. Even if there was nothing in it before, Mason could have hidden something in it now. You don't know. Maybe he got sloppy. He might've figured his locker was safe now since you've already searched it, and moved something from his house or his car to the locker."
"Jax, you're being ridiculous!"
"What's ridiculous is this whole situation. You say you want to help me track down the real killer, and I'm handing you his name and location, but you're not doing anything."
"I don't think it's Mason."
"Well, I do."
We stood glaring at each other from opposite sides of the room, arms crossed.
"I should go," Treena finally said. "Before we both say something we regret."
"That's probably a good idea," I told her. She exited my house without another word. I let out a deep sigh and started pacing the floor.
What the hell was the matter with her? How could she be so blind? Mason was definitely the one behind this. I knew it in my gut. I grabbed my phone off the table and dialed Coach Allen.
"Hey, Coach," I said when he answered.
"Jax, how are you? Everything alright?"
"Right as rain," I lied. "Listen, I'm calling because I was hoping to talk to some of the guys. Maybe even the whole team. I thought you could put them on speaker phone for me."
"I'm sorry, Jax, but no one's here. I gave the guys the day off after that whooping we took from San Diego the other night." I'd seen the game on television and had been secretly gratified to see them lose without me. I knew that was wrong, but the quarterback in me couldn't help it. "I was just about to head out myself. My wife's been nagging me to spend more time with her. I thought I'd better give her what she wants before she decides to hide her checkbook."
"No problem. Another time, maybe."
"What did you want to talk to them about?" Coach asked.
"Just wanted to wish them good luck in the game against Atlanta," I told him.
"That's pretty big of you, seeing as how most of the guys on the team think you're guilty."
I could hear the doubt in Coach's voice. He wasn't quite buying my reason for calling. I decided I had better hang up with him. I’d only called because I wanted to know whether the coast would be clear if I went down to the stadium. I didn't want to risk running into Mason or anyone else. I wanted time alone in the locker room. Most of the guys on the team didn't bother locking their lockers. No one was really worried about theft from the other players. It would be easy to rummage through Mason's locker and see if there were any hidden gems in it. Hell, I'd already been arrested for murder and essentially thrown off the team. I didn't think I could possibly get myself into any more trouble, even if anyone saw me. That didn't mean I wanted to be caught though.
After we hung up, I waited twenty minutes for Coach to get out of the stadium, then grabbed my keys and headed down there.
34
Treena
I spent the morning thinking. My argument with Jax had given me a new idea. I was beginning to realize that I couldn't do this alone. As noon caught up to us, I approached Emily. Cautiously. Our relationship as of late had become rather tricky. The day I'd fainted and gone into the hospital, she'd called me, worried and wanting to make sure everything was okay. Since then however, we'd only spoken when necessary.
"Hi, Emily," I said, trying to sound as friendly as possible without overdoing it.
"Hi," she said, looking at me like she knew I wanted something. "Is there something I can do for you?" she asked.
"I was just wondering if you might like to grab lunch with me today? It's been a while since you and I had lunch together."
I could see the conflict in her eyes. Since trying to get information about her out of Anderson, I hadn't exactly been her favorite person. I was just lucky that Captain Murphy had apparently chosen to keep our discussion regarding Emily to himself. Despite his annoying lack of interest in Jax's case, he wasn't a bad cop. He was kind of old school. He didn't believe in adding to the rumor mill, and I was pretty sure that had something to do with his silence.
"I don't know..." Emily said.
"Look," I told her, heaving a sigh. "I have some stuff I need to talk to you about. Private stuff. Girl stuff. I just... I need a friendly ear right now. Woman to woman, you know?" I smiled at her, hoping my appeal to the bond of womanhood would get my foot in the door.
"Well... I suppose lunch wouldn't hurt," she said.
At noon, we went around the corner to the first place Emily and I had ever eaten together and got a table. We sat together awkwardly for a few minutes, waiting for a waiter to come take our orders. After we'd given them, I decided to jump right into it.
"So, I went by your apartment the other day."
That got her attention. "You did?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. "What for?"
I took a deep breath. The whole point of this lunch was to get Emily back on my side. My investigation into Anderson couldn't move forward without her help. I'd tried and gotten nowhere. If I was gonna get her help, I knew that meant being honest with her and taking the brunt of her anger when she learned the truth.
"I needed information," I told her. I took a deep breath and held it. "About you and Anderson." I waited for the reaction I knew was coming. I wasn't disappointed.
"You what?" she snapped, rising from her chair and baring her teeth at me.
"I'm sorry," I quickly said. "It's just that I've been investigating alternative suspects into Penny Ryder's murder and—"
"Oh my God!" she cried, slapping her hand on the table. "You think Keith and I are suspects?" The horror on her face said it all.
"No, not anymore. At least, not you. I talked to Jenna and Mike. They told me about the arguments you and Anderson have. How jealous he is—"
She grabbed a partially eaten bagel off someone's dirty, leftover plate and threw it at me. It bounced off my head and landed on the floor. I saw the waitstaff watching us. The manager was usually pretty chill, but she looked ready to kick us both out if our argument went any further than a thrown bagel. If we weren't cops, she probably would have tossed us out already.
Emily grabbed her coat and headed for the door.
"Emily, wait!" I cried. I'd known this wouldn't be easy, but I'd anticipated a little more time before she tried to walk out on me. "You didn't fail the detective's exam; Anderson sabotaged you!"
She stopped walking. Even through her heavy fall coat, I could see her back stiffen. She turned around, her lips tight. "What are you talking about?" she asked, stepping just close enough to me so that no one else could hear us.
"I went to talk to Captain Murphy a while ago—"
"About me?" she questioned, her hand slowly reaching for the glass of water on a nearby table, ready to throw it in my face if I pissed her off any more.
"Yes," I said. "I thought... I thought you had done something stupid out of jealousy. I just wanted to run the idea by Captain Murphy. He practically threw me out of his office. He wouldn't even listen to me."
Emily's hand relaxed, and she dropped it to her side. "Good," she said. "What does this have to do with Keith or my detective's exam?"
"Before I left his office, Captain Murphy warned me that I should leave you alone. He said you had a lot of friends in the department. Friends that 'want you exactly where you are.' " Emily's face turned ashen.
"That doesn't mean Keith..." she started, bu
t she bit her lip, unable to finish her sentence. "What makes you think...?" She sank down onto the chair again.
"It's just a feeling I have. All the pieces line up. If he's as jealous as I think he is..."
Emily laughed. "More," she muttered.
"Then I think we need to examine the possibility that he may have had something to do with this. He knew about your relationship with Jax, right?"
Emily nodded. "When we first started dating, I told him all about it. I wanted him to know that I wasn't ready for anything serious."
"How'd he handle it?"
"Not well," she scoffed. "It's like he had a grudge against Jax from then on. He'd even get mad if he caught me watching one of Jax's games on television." She started rubbing her temples.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
She shook her head, her eyes brimming with tears. "I've known for a while he didn't want me to make detective. I just never thought he'd stoop to something as low as messing with my exams. It makes sense, though. He's the one in charge of giving them out."
I nodded. "Is there a reason why he doesn't want you to make detective?" I asked.
She shrugged. "He cares about me. I know he does. He wants me to do well, just not as well as him."
"But he'd still outrank you," I said. "I mean, he's a third level detective, the highest there is. Even if you passed, you'd just be a first level. Like me."
"He doesn't see it that way," she said, picking up a fork and thumping her plate with it. We sat in silence for several minutes. The waiter brought us our food, looking nervously at us before leaving.
"Um," he said, "the manager asked if you could keep it down." He was all of eighteen, and his cheeks turned a bright red. He scurried away, afraid we might arrest him for asking us to be quiet.
"Look," I told Emily. "I don't know for sure that he sabotaged you. It's just a hunch. The pieces all seem to fit."
Emily nodded, sullen. "That doesn't make him a killer, though," she said.
"True. But given his jealousy... He knew you were still hung up on Jax. He might've seen it as the only way to get rid of his rival."
"I'm not that hung up on Jax," she said, blushing. "Okay, maybe I was. But not anymore. Anyway, if that was the case, then why not just kill Jax? Why kill Penny?"
"Because if he killed Jax, you'd mourn him. You'd never get him out of your system. He not only had to take Jax away from you, he had to turn him into someone you wouldn't miss.”
Emily bit her lip. "That makes sense, actually."
I stirred my cold coffee with my spoon, giving her a minute to think before I posed my question. "So," I finally said, "will you help me? I need to find out more about Anderson, and I can't do it alone. You're close to him. He trusts you."
Emily looked hard at me, her mind swirling. Finally, she offered me a slow smile. "Just tell me what you want me to do."
35
Jax
I opened Mason's locker and pulled out his jersey. It was stained with mud and grass and smelled like armpit. I wrinkled my nose and put it back. I began rummaging through his things, but there was nothing much there. Some shoes... an empty cigarette pack that smelled faintly of marijuana... a clean jersey ready for the next game. Nothing here to link him to Penny or her murder.
"I thought I'd find you here," a deep voice said from behind me. I spun around and saw Coach Allen standing there, his arms folded across his chest. He was glaring at me. I shut Mason's locker and stood my ground.
"Coach, I'm sorry. I'm just looking for... something."
Coach cocked an eyebrow at me. "Something?" he asked.
I sighed and slammed the locker door, frustrated. "Something linking Mason to Penny's murder."
Coach Allen shook his head, making little tsk-tsk noises as he came toward me. "Jax, I get it. I really do. If I was in your position, I'd probably do the same thing. But that doesn't make it right. You can't just start going through your teammates' lockers."
"No offense, Coach, but how the fuck can you get it? Have you ever been on trial for murder?" I didn't mean to sound so harsh speaking to him, but I couldn't help myself. It felt like everyone was against me right now.
"No," Coach said. "I haven't. You're right. I can't possibly know how you're feeling, but maybe that's a good thing right now. You need a friend. Someone who can help you see things clearly because you're obviously not able to see them clearly for yourself."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, my anger rising by the second.
"It means that you are acting like a moron, Jax!"
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Think about it! What the fuck were you planning on doing if you'd actually found something in Mason's locker?"
"Give it to the police," I said.
"Do you seriously think the police would believe you found it there and didn't place it there?"
My mind began to spin. I shook my head, feeling like a fool. I'd gotten so worked up when talking to Treena earlier that it had never occurred to me that finding something in Mason's locker might backfire on me.
"Where the hell do you think that would leave you?" Coach Allen continued. "The cops could revoke your bail, you know, if they thought for one second that you were trying to plant evidence."
"Shit," I murmured, the weight of his words sinking into me. "Fuck."
"That's right. So stop acting like a goddam fool and start using your brain. If you really wanna get out of this, then there's only one thing you can do."
"What?" I asked, having no idea what he was talking about.
"Leave town. Now. Tonight. Before it's too late. Go to Mexico or Canada. You've got the weekend before anyone will realize you're gone."
"Wait... what? Are you seriously telling me to flee the country?" I couldn't believe it. I'd always thought of Coach Allen as a levelheaded man, but this seemed like an act of desperation.
"Coach, I just can't flee the country."
"If you don't do it now, you may not have the option later. I've been watching your trial on TV, and things are not working out for you. Have you looked at the jury's eyes? At their faces? They think you're guilty."
"But we've only just started!" I yelled, fear and anger working together to send my heart racing.
"That doesn't mean they think you're innocent, Jax! Wake the fuck up! Get out now, while you still can!"
The athlete in me wanted to stay and fight, but the rest of me began to think that Coach had a point. Once the idea was planted in my brain, it started to make sense. "Fuck," I muttered. My throat had suddenly gone dry. "Coach, I think you might be right."
36
Treena
I was glad work was finally over for the day. Since everyone in the department seemed to think that Jax was guilty—even though it was just the first week of trial, which Jax's attorney anticipated might go on for up to four or five weeks—I had been assigned new cases. A backlog of cold cases had just reached my desk this morning, courtesy of Detective Anderson. I was pretty sure he was just giving me busy work. Something to occupy my time so that he wouldn't have to deal with me.
My cell phone rang just as Emily came up to my desk. I glanced at the number—Jax—and promised myself I'd call him the second I left the station.
"Hey," she whispered leaning in toward me so that no one could hear. "I'll be at the station later, like we talked about. I'll call you when I know the coast is clear."
I nodded, anxious to get out of the station and talk to Jax. I knew he was hung up on Mason being guilty, but I just didn't think Mason was responsible. He was a jerk, sure, but there was nothing in his record to indicate a violent streak or even a jealous streak. He hated Jax, but Jax hated Mason right back. That didn't mean that Jax was gonna run off and kill Mason's mother or something. I'd thought about pointing this out to Jax, but I didn't think he'd appreciate the example. When I came back to him—and his lawyer—with evidence that Anderson was the culprit, I was positive Jax would change his tune.
"Great, thanks. I appreciate it."
"Just remember, if you get caught, I didn't know anything about it."
I nodded, my mind racing. What if things went wrong tonight? Was it worth it? I knew that it was, but that didn't ease the fear I was now feeling. I grabbed my purse and slung it over my shoulder. Outside the station, I jumped into my car and headed to the bank to get some quarters for laundry. I was also desperately in need of food. And a car wash. I realized that I was filling my time with mundane errands, trying to take my mind off of things. It was after seven, and I still had two or three more hours before I was expecting Emily's call.
I got back to my apartment and was unpacking my groceries when I realized I'd forgotten all about Jax's phone call. "Shit!" I held my phone to my ear and played back his voicemail.
"Treena, it's Jax. I'm sorry; I can't go on like this. It just... it's just not working. The trial's going badly. I don't want to go to jail. I don't want to deal with any of this anymore. So, I'm sorry, but I have to leave this...place. Tonight. Goodbye. I'll... I'll always love you."
There was a click, and my heart dropped out of my chest. "Oh my God," I muttered. "Oh shit." I couldn't believe it. Was Jax really going to kill himself? I had to get to him before it was too late. I had to stop him. My mind worked fast, running through the different things I could say to keep him alive. The only one that stood out was the one I'd been least anxious to tell him, but if it meant keeping him alive, then I guess tonight was the night to tell him I was pregnant. Maybe if he knew he had a child on the way, he wouldn't kill himself.