by S. J. Bishop
I tapped my phone lightly against the wall. Maybe she couldn't hear me.
"What's up? Ready for another night of fun with a star quarterback?" As the words left my mouth, though, I felt the resentment of failure sneak up on me. "Star" quarterback did not translate to "good" quarterback. At least, not lately.
Raina let out an exasperated sigh. "Listen, we need to talk."
Shit.
Talk? I knew what that meant. Every person in the world knew that "talk" was code for giving someone their walking papers.
"What is it you want to talk about?" I asked, playing dumb. If she didn't want to see me again, then she was gonna have to come right out and say it. Not beat around the bush. Raina was the epitome of hot and cold. I'd never met a woman who bounced from one emotion to the next so frequently. Couldn't she make up her mind?
I heard her sigh again, and it irritated the hell out of me. I was driving through traffic, and that was irritating enough as it was. My game was for shit last night. I hadn't even finished it out. I wanted the next game to be different, but the way things were going, that was never gonna happen.
I balled my hand into a fist and slammed it into my horn. The driver ahead of me turned around and flipped me the finger. Traffic jams sucked.
"I can't talk over the phone," Raina said.
"Can't or won't?" I asked.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You know what I mean."
"No, I really have no idea."
Since traffic was locked in place, I shifted my car into park, got out of the car, and started pacing. A few others did the same. Coach was gonna chew my ass out when I finally showed up. Everyone on the team already thought I was fucked up. Half the guys thought I was drinking again. The other half thought the new contract had gone to my head and I'd decided I didn't have to try anymore. They thought I was gonna try to coast through my contract.
Who in the hell would do something like that? Football players played football. They didn't coast.
"Caden?" Raina asked, and I realized I'd been muttering to myself.
"What?" I snapped back. "Raina, if you've got something to say just say it."
She was quiet for a moment, and then a light sounded in her voice. "Oh fuck. Caden, when I said we needed to talk, I didn't mean it like... that."
"What did you mean then?"
"I meant... we need to talk." She let out a long breath and a nervous laugh. "Just not about us. I mean, it is about us, just not in the way that you're thinking."
"What way, then? Like about the case? 'Cause I've already answered everything I'm going to about the break in."
"No, not about the case. But now that you mention it, I do have a few questions regarding—"
"I can't. I'm late. I've got a game tonight."
The car ahead of me still hadn't moved. A camera flash went off nearby, and I turned angrily toward it. Someone was snapping a picture of me pacing up and down the traffic lanes. Fucking jerkoffs.
"Raina, I've gotta go," I said and slid back into my car.
I started the engine and began to slowly move along the shoulder of the highway. I could see flashing lights far up ahead and realized there'd been an accident. But it didn't matter. If I could just get off this road, I could get to the stadium. If I was caught in this shit, some of the rest of the team had to be too. I couldn't possibly be the only one running late.
"When can you meet up?" she asked. "It's important."
"I don't know."
There was a long pause, and then her voice came back through the line, harsh and unforgiving.
"Are you drunk?"
"What?"
"Are. You. Drunk."
"No, I’m not drunk. Why would you even think that? Because I'm annoyed that you're playing games with me?"
"I'm playing games?" she hollered.
"Damned right you are. First you can't wait to get me alone, then you can't wait to have some kind of ‘talk’ with me."
"I told you I didn't mean it like that."
"Then why don't you just tell me whatever it is?"
"No. I don't wanna discuss anything with you when you're behaving like a dick."
"Fuck this," I said and hung up. The second I did, I was sorry. She was being a bitch, yes, but I was pretty sure I was being an asshole. I'd probably even started it.
"Goddammit."
My phone lit up in my hand. I answered it on the first ring.
"Raina? Listen, I'm—"
"Where the hell are you?"
My heart thumped. I gritted my teeth and tried to keep my voice calm. "I gave you your money last night. I dropped it off right where you told me to. If someone took it from that doorway, that's your own problem."
"Caden?" the voice asked again. "What the hell are you talking about?"
I blinked. "Coach?"
"Yeah, who'd you think it was? What money are you talking about?"
My mind raced for a credible answer.
"Oh. Nothing. I knew it was you. I was just fucking with you. What's up?"
"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?" he screamed. He hated repeating himself.
"I'm almost there," I told him. I was still creeping along the shoulder, but the turnoff I wanted was just up ahead. "I'll be there in ten minutes."
"You better be."
He hung up, and I was just about to exit when bright red and blue lights flashed behind me.
Great. Just what I need.
23
Raina
"Parker, phone call."
I looked over to see Bell holding a phone to his ear. When he saw that I'd heard him, he hit the hold button and put the receiver down.
I picked it up at my desk just as Mac went rushing by.
"Big news coming," he said. The words came out hurried, just like his footsteps.
"Wait, what news?" I called out.
"I'll let you know. On my way to homicide."
"Wait a sec, I'll go with," but he didn't stop, just zipped along and was out of sight a moment later. I sighed and shook my head.
Whatever. It wasn't like I wanted to talk to homicide anyway.
Ever since finding out I was pregnant, I'd felt like I had a big bullseye painted on my back. I kept waiting for someone to shoot me in the back and drop me to the ground. Once the news came out, I'd be finished in the department. They couldn't legally fire me. They'd stick me at a desk, have me wait it out, and then find a reason not to bring me back after my maternity leave. Or maybe they'd bring me back, but I'd still be sitting at a desk. No way were they gonna let a new mother out in the field.
The phone I was holding beeped at me, and I remembered that I had a phone call. It couldn't be Caden; he'd be calling on my cell. I hit hold and held the phone to my ear.
"Raina Parker," I said.
"Officer Parker," the voice on the other end hissed.
"Yes?" There was something unsettling about that voice. I'd heard it before.
"I've been wanting to talk to you for some time, Ms. Parker."
Something began to tickle the back of my neck. "Who is this?"
"You never answered my letter. And I worked so hard on it, too."
The answer to my question hit me over the head like a hammer. "Steven Kendricks?" I asked. My head was already hurting.
"It's been a long time, Ms. Parker."
"That's Officer Parker," I seethed.
"So sorry. Officer Parker." His voice was laughing at me.
"What do you want?"
I pictured Steven Kendricks, forty-something and bald, standing at the jailhouse pay phone and smiling. It ran a shiver up my spine. You'd think criminals wouldn't be allowed to call out to a police station, but in fact, they made frequent calls to stations for various reasons. Usually to get ahold of their lawyer or a particular officer that was involved in a case.
The guards were supposed to listen in on every outgoing phone call made from a jail, but I knew firsthand that wasn't the case. The guards were only human, and they got b
ored. I'd gone down to a jail once and found one of the guards who was supposed to be listening clipping his toenails instead. The phone lay at his side. He hadn't even batted an eye when I'd caught him, just looked at me and went back to what he was doing.
"What do you want?" I asked again.
"I told you in my letter. I want to see you."
"Not gonna happen," I said.
I could hear him breathing. It was steady and even. "I have information."
"I have all the information I need about you."
"It's not about me. It's about your mother's killer."
I paused, trying to collect the thoughts racing around in my head. "Last time I checked, you were one and the same."
"Last time I checked, I never admitted to killing her."
"Don't give me that shit. I was there that night, or have you forgotten?"
"No, I haven't forgotten. I think about that night often."
"If you didn't kill my mother, then who did?" I dared him to come up with any answer even halfway plausible, certain that he couldn't do it.
"Think about it. The evidence only proved that I was in the house that night. It never proved that I killed anyone."
"Sure, that's why you got life."
"Courts can get it wrong. I recommend you come and see me, unless you want your mother's killer to stay free forever."
"Fuck you, Kendricks. My mother's murderer is rotting away in prison, just where he belongs. I'm done with this conversation."
I slammed the phone down and spun around in my chair. Skeecher was standing there. I jumped in my seat.
"Shit, Skeecher, don't sneak up on me like that."
"It's not sneaking up. My desk is on the other side of yours."
I hoped he hadn't heard me on the phone. Mac and the Captain knew about my mom, but I didn't need someone like Skeecher in on the secret.
"You need something?" I asked.
"No," he said and took a half step away. He stopped and turned back around. "Hey, look, I just wanna say that I know that we haven't always gotten along," I let out a derisive laugh that he ignored, "but my door is always open."
"You don't have a door. None of us do." I waved to the office of desks and cubicles.
He grinned at me. "You know what I mean."
"You heard me on the phone, didn't you?"
He nodded once. "I didn't know your mom was murdered."
"Yeah, well... she was. And I don't need you cracking jokes about it."
"Cracking jokes?" Skeecher actually looked insulted. "What kind of asshole do you think I am? You may not like me, but you're one of us. I'd never insult you like that." He walked away in a huff and I heard him mutter "bitch" under his breath.
Mac was back before I had time to process things with Skeecher. He came racing toward me.
"What's up? Homicide have something good?" I could tell by the excited look on his face that whatever it was was good alright.
"Two things. First, there's a detective in homicide who's leaving. Transferring to New York at the end of the month to be near his parents. They're old and sick or something. Whatever." He waved it off. "Point being, there's a spot opening up."
I felt my heart begin to flutter. There was no way I'd ever make homicide detective if they found out I was pregnant.
"You don't look excited," Mac said. He seemed a little disappointed.
"No, I am. I'm just... processing the information."
He accepted that and continued. "Second..." He flung a folder on my desk. I opened it and started sifting through the packet of information. My breath caught in my throat.
"These guys all went to Penn State?" I asked.
"Not all, but in the last five months, almost ninety percent of the people that've been hit by Mr. A were Penn State alumni."
"Fuck. How did we miss this?"
Mac's face reddened, and he swept a nervous hand through his hair. "That's what homicide wanted to know."
"Penn State," I muttered. "That's where Caden went. We need to talk to him. Now."
"I heard a call on the radio. I know where he is."
"Let's go."
24
Caden
I walked along the side of the road, following an imaginary straight line. I touched my fingers to my nose. "I'm not drunk," I said. "I already told you that."
"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind. It's not like I've never had a drunk person lie to me before."
The cop rolled his eyes as people hung out their car windows taking video that would end up on YouTube five minutes from now.
"Can't you just let me sit in my car and give me a breathalyzer?" I asked.
"I could do that, and I will do that, but first we're doing this." The cop smiled at me.
"There's no reason to be such an asshole about it," I said.
The cop's eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer. "What did you say?"
"You heard me." I put my hands down. My temper was getting the best of me. I curled my hands into fists but kept them at my side. The cop noticed.
"You got some more you wanna say to me, Mr. Quarterback? Something you wanna do?" He was daring me to take a punch.
A police cruiser came rolling up behind us just then, and two figures got out. One of them was Raina. I was relieved to see her, even though an hour ago, I'd basically hung up on her.
"We've got it from here," Detective Forster said, flashing his detective's badge. The patrol officer who'd pulled me over for driving down the shoulder of the road shot him an annoyed look.
"I think he's drunk," the officer said.
"Has he failed one of the tests?" Raina asked.
"Well, no."
"What about a breathalyzer?" Detective Forster asked.
"I haven't administered one yet."
"How long have you had him out here?" Forster demanded, growing agitated.
The cop shrugged.
"A breathalyzer should be administered within the first ten minutes of pulling over a driver suspected of intoxication. Otherwise, you risk the alcohol wearing off so that by the time you check them, they're back under the limit."
The officer turned red-faced.
"Just go," Detective Forster said. The officer sulked back to his car and left.
"Thanks," I said to Forster. "I appreciate your help there."
"I wasn't helping you," he said, still irritated. "We've got some questions for you and didn't need someone like that interfering."
"Uh, sure," I said, looking at Raina. "Do we have to do this here?" I indicated the passing cars which had finally started to move but were still going ultra-slow.
"It'll just take a minute," Raina said. She didn't seem mad, exactly, more like... frustrated. I wasn't sure whether it was with me or about whatever had brought her out here. Both, maybe. She looked hot as fuck standing there with the cuffs dangling from her waist. Why hadn't we used those in bed yet?
"Caden," Raina said, stepping toward me. "I'd like you to look at this list." She handed me a sheet of paper with about a dozen names typed out on them. My jaw tightened as I looked it over.
"What is this?" I asked.
"Do you know any of these people?" Detective Forster asked.
"Yeah. I know all of them. Knew all of them," I corrected. "I haven't talked to most of these guys in ages."
"Why is that?" Raina asked.
"Why do you think?" I snapped at her. "What the hell is this about?"
I handed the list back to her.
"Caden, we've recently realized that the man who's been breaking into your house has a pattern.”
"At least, he has in the last few months," Detective Forster interjected.
"A pattern?" I asked.
"He's been targeting people who went to Penn State. People who were there at the same time you were," Raina said.
I tried to keep a poker face. So that's how Mr. Asshole found those pictures.
"Caden?" Raina asked. Detective Forster was looking at me with a quizzical expression.
"What do you want me to tell you, exactly? I knew some of these guys, like, six years ago. I haven't spoken to them since I graduated."
"How did you know them?" Raina asked. "Was it through football?"
"Most of them, yes. But not all. Todd Matteson was my roommate, but he had no use for football." I hesitated. "He was more of a stoner type."
"Is there any reason you can think of why the burglar would be targeting the people on this list?" Detective Forster asked.
I shrugged. "Maybe he played for Pitt?"
Raina and Detective Forster exchanged a look. "The Pittsburgh Panthers," I clarified. "A lot of people consider them Penn State's biggest rivals, even though we don't play them that much."
"I know who Pitt is," Raina said. She had this sneer on her face that somehow looked good on her. I couldn't help wanting to bite that bottom lip and wipe the sneer away. I wondered if there was some way I could get her alone.
She must've wanted the same thing because she turned to Mac and said, "Can you find some way to get those cars to move along faster?"
She indicated the cars going by at ten miles an hour. "I'll call the station and see if they can get some more traffic direction out here." He went back to his car, and Raina and I turned away from the cars, moving up beside my passenger door.
"Is this what you wanted to talk to me about before?" I asked.
"No. It's more... personal."
"Come to my game tonight. Bring Eli if you want. We'll talk after."
Raina bit her bottom lip. I reached out a hand and caressed her thigh, making sure it wasn't visible to the passing cars.
"Fine," she said, "but afterward, we need to talk."
25
Raina
Eli and Harper cheered when halftime ended. The game was going well, even for Caden, who'd been in a slump lately. They were playing San Francisco and not exactly killing them but staying one step ahead. So far, that had been enough.
Caden had set us all up with tickets. We were seated next to Jax and his wife, Treena, who'd driven down for a long weekend. Apparently, Jax had a few days off, and he and Treena thought they'd make a romantic getaway out of it. I wasn't sure that being surrounded by thousands of screaming Patriots fans was romantic, but I guess everybody had their own idea of romance.