by S. J. Bishop
48
Treena
I walked into the locker room and looked around in the darkness. It was creepy in here this late at night. I flicked on a light switch and made my way toward Coach's office. The security guard who'd let me in had tried to follow me down here. One good thing about having a police badge was that you outranked rent-a-cops everywhere. I'd flashed my old Colorado badge at him and told him to get back to his rounds, that I was fine on my own. He hadn't asked any more questions. I was glad now that I'd kept my spare badge. It had really come in handy tonight.
I'd taken my time walking to the locker room, giving Emily a chance to catch up to me. The last time she'd texted me, she'd said she was almost here. I'd texted back, asking if Anderson was with her, but I hadn't received a reply. For all I knew, her signal could've dropped and she was stuck in traffic somewhere. Or maybe Anderson had refused to come. Maybe it was Emily, and just Emily, who was on her way to the stadium. She was a great cop, but if she was the only backup I had... I gulped when I thought of the possible consequences. Going into a situation like this was never easy. Having enough backup could make the difference between coming out alive and coming out dead.
My hand dropped to my stomach as butterflies fluttered around inside it. It's not just you anymore, Jax had said. I was just now starting to realize how true that was. The idea of having a baby had terrified me, but now an even more terrifying thought had occurred to me—what if something went wrong and the baby got hurt?
If Emily was here with Anderson, they wouldn't be able to make any moves until they saw Coach Allen enter the building. They wouldn't want to be seen by him and scare him off. We needed to get Coach Allen's confession on tape before we could arrest him. Without it, we wouldn't have a case.
Coach's office was on the small side, a lot like Anderson's. The desk, however, was massive, much more like Captain Murphy's. It was covered in paperwork, and the walls were covered in dry erase boards with various game plans drawn out on them. A big window on the opposite wall looked out on the locker room. I walked around the desk and opened the top middle drawer. There was nothing particularly interesting inside it. Pens and paperclips. Standard office stuff.
In the bottom left drawer, however, I found a pair of black gloves. I stared at them a moment, searching for any sign that they'd been used to commit a crime. There was a faint white smudge on the thumb part of the right glove. I wondered if it was too much to hope that when the lab examined it, it would come back as gunpowder residue.
"Gloves," I murmured to myself. "Possible gunpowder." The good thing about being wired up was that I didn't have to speak very loudly for the listening officers to hear me. I just hoped that Emily and Anderson were both nearby.
The door to the office opened, and I looked up to see Coach Allen standing there. I dropped the gloves, then immediately picked them back up again, shoving them into my pocket. He looked furious.
"Coach Allen!" I cried, taking a step back. "What are you doing here?" I hoped I looked surprised. Clarissa was the actress in the family, not me.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked, looking genuinely surprised to see me. He looked around the room. "Is Jax with you?"
"Jax?" I asked, playing innocent. "No, why would Jax be here?"
He shut the door to his office, his eyes staying on me as I made my way toward the far wall, away from him.
Coach Allen ignored my question about Jax, stepping further into the room. I wished that I knew for certain whether Emily and Anderson were outside the locker room somewhere listening in.
"Don't step any closer," I told Coach Allen, holding up the gloves I'd found in his desk.
"What's that?" he asked.
"The gloves you wore the night you killed Penny Ryder." There, I'd said it. I knew I was taking a chance being so bold, but I had to do something to get him talking.
"You don't know what you're talking about," Coach Allen snarled.
"The hell I don't," I told him. "You might have fooled everyone, but you didn't fool me. You killed Penny Ryder and tried to pin it on Jax, figuring he would be the most likely suspect."
"You don't have any proof of that," he said.
"I have these gloves," I said, smiling widely and hoping I was portraying an air of confidence which I didn't at all feel.
"So what? Those are nothing but plain black gloves."
"With blood on them," I said, bluffing. Coach Allen froze.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" he asked, his voice low. His eyes turned dangerous. My heart began to thump. I instinctively dropped my free hand to my stomach, as if that would somehow shield my baby from the negative energy in the room. Coach Allen looked like he wanted to kill me.
"There's dried blood on the fingertips of this glove."
"There is not," he said. "I've examined those gloves myself."
I tried not to get too excited. I could tell that Coach Allen was getting worked up. The more worked up a suspect got, the more likely he was to say something incriminating.
"The gloves are black," I told him, waving them around in front of me. "The blood blended right in. The only reason I noticed it is because I saw something crusty on the fabric. I took a small piece of it and rubbed it on a piece of white paper. It's red. Definitely blood. My guess is, it's Penny's blood. And I found these gloves in your desk."
I could see Coach Allen getting flustered. "I... it's not..." He was stammering. "Give me those gloves!" He lunged at me, trying to swipe the gloves from my hands. I jumped back, knocking over his desk chair.
"Why'd you do it?" I cried. We stood on opposite sides of his desk, which served as the only barrier between us. His face was flushed with anger. I knew if he got ahold of me, he wouldn't let go until I was dead.
"I didn't do anything!" he cried. "And even if I did, the bitch deserved it!"
"It was your baby Penny was carrying, wasn't it?" I asked as we circled his desk. "What happened? Did she try to blackmail you? Ask you to leave your wife?" An idea struck me just then. It was a long shot, but it might just work.
"I called your wife, you know, before coming down here."
Coach stopped moving. His face went from red to white in an instant.
"You... did... what?" he asked.
"I told her all about your little exploits with Penny Ryder. She knew more than you realized. In fact, she's been onto your affair for some time. She even hired a private investigator. She's got pictures."
"That bitch!" Coach Allen yelled. He swiped his hand across the desk and sent everything on it flying across the room. "I should have killed her too when I had the chance. I could've pinned both their murders on Jax!"
My heart fluttered. "Why Jax?" I asked. "I thought the two of you were close."
"Yes, but who else was I gonna pin Penny's murder on? He was the logical choice. The only choice. I never meant for him to go to jail. I thought he would've realized he had no choice but to run, to flee the country. But it had never even crossed his mind until I told him to do it."
Coach Allen was shaking his head.
"So you killed Penny because she was pregnant?"
"She was threatening to tell my wife. I've already been through one divorce; I wasn't about to go through a second one. I'd lose everything, just like I did in the first one."
"So you shot Penny."
"I didn't want to do it. She made me! What else was I supposed to do? Penny never gave me a choice."
I smiled. That was it. I'd just gotten everything I needed. There was no way they could convict Jax now. I just had to wait for Emily and Anderson to come in and arrest Coach Allen. It should be happening any second now. I stared at the door, anticipating their entrance. Unless... of course, something had gone wrong and there was no one waiting to arrest Coach.
"I'm sorry," Coach Allen suddenly said. I turned back to him and saw a gun in his hand.
"Wait!" I screamed. "Don't shoot!"
But Coach Allen had no intention of waiting. He pul
led the trigger, and the gun went off.
49
Jax
I stared through the window into Coach Allen's office, horrified. He was pointing a gun directly at Treena's chest. I cursed myself for ever letting her come down here alone. I should never have let her out of my sight, not even for a second. What the fuck was I thinking?
They were both too absorbed in what was happening to notice me. I slid along the wall toward the door, walking quietly so as not to freak anyone out. If Coach harmed one hair on Treena's head, I would rip his balls off and shove them down his throat. If he hurt our child, I would do even worse.
The gun went off, and my heart stopped beating. I swung the door open and saw Treena still standing there, her face pale. Coach Allen was banging his hand against the gun, furious.
"Fucking piece of shit!" Coach screamed. "Do you know how much I paid for this thing? Enough that it shouldn't misfire!" He was checking the chamber while Treena stood there, frozen.
"Treena!" I yelled. She turned to me, seeming to recognize for the first time that I was in the room.
"Jax!" Treena cried out, taking an automatic step toward me.
Coach Allen looked up from his gun. Surprise registered on his face. "You!" he said, pointing the gun at me. He had closed the chamber, and his finger twitched over the trigger.
"What the hell are you still doing here?" Coach roared at me. "You were supposed to leave the country! Why did you call me and tell me to meet you here? Are you plotting things with this cop?" He spit the last word out and shifted his gun from me to Treena. Anger rose up in me. I could feel the blood boiling in my veins.
"Stop pointing that gun at my girlfriend!" I growled and charged at him. Treena screamed. The gun went off, and this time there was no misfire. It breezed past my ear. I could hear the whistle as it came within an inch of me. I tackled Coach to the ground, grabbing for the gun but unable to pry it from his fingers.
Coach kicked me in the groin, and pain shot through my body like someone had just severed my spine. I fought the urge to curl up into a ball and punched Coach in the face instead. His lip began to bleed.
"Treena, get out of here!" I called. "Run!"
I should have known better. Treena was a cop. Instead of running, she grabbed a stapler off the desk and cracked it over Coach's head as we wrestled on the floor. I had to admit, it was a nice jab. It was enough to daze him, but only for a second. I grabbed the gun, but it slipped right out of my sweaty fingers and hit the floor. Coach picked it back up with lightning speed and jolted away from me.
Thundering footsteps echoed from outside the room.
"Freeze!" a woman's voice shouted. It wasn't Treena. I looked toward the door and saw Emily standing there, her gun drawn. The look on her face was one of fierce determination. Detective Anderson stood beside her. Coach Allen took one look at the two of them and fired his gun without thinking twice about it.
"Look out!" Detective Anderson yelled and pushed Emily out of the way. I saw the bullet sink into his shoulder. Treena lunged at Coach Allen, missing the gun but grabbing ahold of his arm as it flailed through the air. I ran to help her.
I kicked Coach as hard as I could between the legs.
Coach doubled over in pain, his head almost touching his ankles. He sucked in a deep breath and tried to right himself, but Treena wrenched his arm back and he dropped the gun, howling in pain. I grabbed it before he could get it back and held it on him. His pale face looked up at me.
"Fuck," he moaned, realizing that he was out of options.
"You okay, Anderson?" Treena asked, looking over at the detective as he rose to his feet. Emily was frantically examining him.
"I'm okay," Anderson said, speaking to both Treena and Emily, who didn't look convinced. A small patch of blood had formed on his clothing.
"We got it all on tape," Emily said. "Every word."
I turned to Treena, who was grinning at me now.
"Here," Detective Anderson said, tossing Treena his handcuffs. "He's all yours."
Treena turned to Coach Allen. "Gregory Allen, you are under arrest for the murder of Penny Ryder. You have the right to remain silent..." He was no longer struggling. He hung his head, defeated. I didn't feel the least bit sorry for him as Treena slapped the cuffs over his wrists, locking them tight.
50
Treena
I tried to stop twiddling my thumbs while we waited for the judge. The last of the Jets entered the courtroom. They were lucky to get seats. If some of the team hadn't gotten here so early, they never would have found a place to sit. The courtroom was packed. The arrest of Coach Allen had made the front page of every newspaper and tabloid throughout the country. A football coach who frames his star quarterback for murder? What could be better, as far as the reporters were concerned?
Geoffrey Stevens sat beside Jax. I sat right behind him, my hand on his shoulder. He turned and looked at me. My heart melted. Something fluttered in my stomach, and I wondered if it was the baby. I reminded myself that it was way too early to feel the baby kicking inside me. That wouldn't happen for a few months yet... at least, I didn't think so.
Day by day, I was realizing how little I knew about motherhood. I looked at Clarissa who was sitting next to me on the bench. I'd have to ask her about some of this stuff later. Maybe she still had some baby books I could borrow. First, though, I'd have to tell her I was pregnant. The last couple of days had been so crazy, I hadn't wanted to tell my family anything about my pregnancy. Not just yet. Maybe later today, after Jax's case was wrapped up.
"All rise," the bailiff called, and everyone stood.
The judge entered the courtroom. He took his seat and looked around the courtroom as everyone sat back down. Cameras were rolling and photographers were snapping pictures. I wondered if Emily and Anderson were curled up in bed, watching this on television. He was still recovering from his injury, and even though it wasn't serious, Emily refused to leave his side. Especially since it turned out I'd been wrong in my assumption that Anderson had failed her detective's exams on purpose.
Emily had told Anderson all about that idea of mine. When he'd gotten released from the hospital, he'd gone straight to his office, pulled out Emily's old exams, and gone over them with her point by point. She'd failed them both fair and square, and I'd felt like an idiot. Anderson was ready to kill me, but since he'd made his own assumptions and mistakes—about me and Jax—we'd decided to let bygones be bygones and start over. That had been a couple of days ago, so it was hard to tell how it might go. In another month we might be at each other's throats, but for now things were good.
"I understand that the defense and prosecution have reached some kind of agreement," the judge said. He glanced at the jury, who were in the courtroom now out of mere formality. Their work here was done. They would not have to listen to any more evidence or render a verdict. Not after what had happened with Coach Allen.
The prosecutor rose. Caden nudged me with his elbow. He was sitting on the other side of me. He leaned in and whispered, "I bet this guy feels like a schmuck now, huh? He thought for sure Jax was guilty." I smiled at him. Caden was a great guy. I wished he had a girl of his own. He deserved some love in his life. I'd read somewhere that he'd been married once and wondered what had happened. I couldn't imagine any woman ever walking out on him. Then again, I only knew Caden now, long after he'd stopped drinking. What had he been like before that? If Jax was any indicator, Caden probably hadn't been too pleasant to be around.
"Your honor," the prosecutor said. "In light of new evidence which has arisen, the state would like to dismiss all charges against Jax Ryder."
The people in the courtroom, who just last week had all been against Jax, erupted in cheers. They drowned out the judge's words, but it was obvious to everyone there what he was saying. The judge banged his gavel on his desk. Case dismissed.
Jax grabbed me, kissing me hard as Caden and my family clapped him on the back. My father hadn't been particularly surprised to le
arn that Jax and I were a couple again. He remembered how much we'd meant to each other back in high school. I was pretty sure he was gonna be surprised to learn he had a new grandchild on the way, though.
"Let's get out of here," I said, talking into his ear. "I've got a nice little welcome home present for you. Plus... I thought we could try out my new handcuffs."
Jax's eyes burned into me. "You naughty little..."
His words were cut off as his teammates surrounded him. Mason stuck his hand out, and Jax shook it. "Sorry I was such a dick to you," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "I really thought you’d killed her."
It was a strange apology, but Jax was clearly in too good a mood not to accept it. The Jets started pushing Jax toward the door, ready to celebrate. Lars ran after them, telling Clarissa he'd see her later. Caden followed them out, "I'll keep an eye on him," he winked at me.
It was nice to see Jax's teammates supporting him, but I knew that they must've still been in shock that their coach had betrayed them like he had. He'd set up one of his own players for murder. I wasn't sure that the Jets could ever recover completely from something like that.
Jax had disappeared through the door but came running back to me a minute later. "Come on," he said. "The guys rented out Jon and Buddy's. You know what that means."
"I get another chance to wallop you at skee-ball," I said grinning.
"I beat you last time," Jax said.
"That's what you think."
"Tonight's the tie-breaker," Jax said. "Whoever wins gets to call the shots in the relationship for the rest of our lives."
"The rest of our lives?" I asked. "Is that a promise?"
Jax wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close. "I promise that I will never let you out of my life again. No matter what." He kissed me, and when I pulled away, he was grinning. "By the way, if I win tonight, the handcuffs are going on you later."