by S. J. Bishop
Coach let out a long sigh. I could almost hear him scratching his head. "I'd heard the rumors, but I'd ignored them."
"The rumors were just that up until last night," I told him.
"It takes a big man to admit something like that." I waited for him to go on. He was thinking. "Is this a part of what's got you off your game lately? The drinking? If you only started again yesterday, I don't see how..."
"There's some other stuff I've been dealing with. I don't wanna get into it now, but it's not great." I was trying to think of some way to make this right. "I'm calling my sponsor as soon as I hang up with you."
There was a minute of silence, and then he spoke again.
"Fuck. Alright. This is what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna start Conrad in the next few games. I want you to do whatever you have to do to get yourself out of this funk. You let me know when that happens, and I'll start you back up."
"Sounds fairer than I deserve," I told him.
"Don't be so hard on yourself, Caden. That's what you've got me for." He chuckled to himself, and we hung up.
At least that was over with. Now, I had to fix things with Gavin and Raina. Gavin first. Raina was probably still too pissed to talk to me. I wondered briefly if our baby would have her temper or mine. Then again, were they really so different? If nothing else, I hoped it had her spunk.
I shook my head. I couldn't believe I was even considering the idea of a baby. As messed up as I was, I'd probably drop it on its head the first time I held it. Still, maybe it wouldn't be as bad as I'd thought. My first reaction was not always the correct one. I'd spent the last four years learning to admit that.
I had just pushed the first number for Gavin when the phone rang in my hand.
"Hello?" I asked. I still wasn't thinking clearly, or I would have known who it was before they spoke.
"Got my money?" Mr. Asshole's voice came through loud and clear. My teeth clenched together. "Yeah, I've got it. You got an address for me?"
It was a different address than the one he'd given me last time. I jotted it down on a notepad. Mellow moved between my legs. I opened a fresh can of food for him. Then a second one. I wasn't sure when I'd be back, and I didn't want him to starve before anyone could get to him.
"Is it a house?" I asked.
"It's a building. You don't need to know much more than that. I want you to leave it in front of door number one."
"Is that a joke?"
"Ain't no joke. There's like ten entrances and exits to this place. All of them numbered. Leave it at the first one."
"What time?"
"Wait until it's dark. Let's say eight."
"Works for me."
"It better," Mr. Asshole said. "Or you know what will happen."
I knew exactly what would happen, but I didn't think Mr. Asshole had a clue. I hung up and grabbed my duffle bag. I opened it up. The gun lay on top, exactly where I'd left it. Mr. Asshole wouldn't be getting any money from me tonight or any other night. In fact, Mr. Asshole might not be breathing after tonight. The one thing I knew for sure was that no matter what, I would make sure Raina was safe.
45
Raina
My mind raced to remember that night. It was so long ago, yet still so clear in my head. My mother was downstairs. I'd heard her scream and went running down to see what was wrong. I saw Eli sprawled on the floor. I didn't see my mother anywhere. Not right away. Then her body had materialized like out of thin air. I'd seen the blood. I’d had just enough time to process it before someone had grabbed me from behind. I’d started struggling with him.
The next thing I’d known, Caden was there. Saving me.
I was so distracted I almost hit the curb when my phone rang. It was Mac, calling me back.
"Have you finally lost your mind, or is that message you left me for real?" he asked, jumping straight to it.
"It's for real. At least, I think it is."
"You're telling me Steven Kendricks named your next door neighbor as his accomplice?"
"Mr. Woodman lived across the street," I corrected.
"Next door, across the street, who cares? The point is, you knew the guy. You can identify him."
"Yeah, but how does that help? It's Kendricks' word against his. Do you really think there could be some evidence still lying around that could tie him back to it?"
"I don't know. It's a longshot, but maybe." I could hear the wheels spinning in Mac's head. "Where are you now?"
"Driving back from the prison."
"Okay, let me do a little digging. I'll talk to Captain Johnson. Let's start by running a check on this guy and see if we get any hits."
"Yeah, okay, that makes sense."
Mac was silent for a second. "Are you okay?" he asked.
"As good as I can be under the circumstances." I heard a voice whispering on the other line. "Are you at the station?" I asked him.
"Not just now. I'll be there in ten minutes. I just need to get dressed. I mean shower. I mean... I'm on my way."
There was more whispering, and I was pretty sure the words, "Later, Tiger," through the phone.
"Sorry if I interrupted anything," I said, unable to keep the hint of a smirk out of my voice.
"You didn't. How far away are you?"
"Another half hour."
"I'll meet you at the station."
"Yeah, okay. Thanks."
"That's what partners are for," Mac said and hung up.
I swung into a gas station and filled up my car, debating on whether or not I should call Caden. If what Kendricks had said was true, it might help put Caden's mind at ease to know that we knew who his blackmailer was. Maybe I could get him to set aside that gun he was carrying around with him.
He'd been a total asshole yesterday, but that didn't mean I wanted him dead. I also didn't want to talk to him. I knew it was chicken, but I typed a message into my phone. My finger hovered over the send button. I reread it.
DON'T DO ANYTHING STUPID. I KNOW WHO UR BLACKMAILER IS.
That was too harsh. I deleted it and retyped it.
I KNOW WHO UR BLACKMAILER IS. DON'T DO ANYTHING.
There. Leaving off the "stupid" made it sound less critical. I hit send.
I finished filling up my tank, watching my phone for a reply. It didn't ring until I was back on the highway. I picked it up on the second ring.
"Caden?"
"Raina. I'm glad you answered. I wasn't sure you would. Listen, I need to tell you something."
"Me too. Did you get my text?"
"Text?"
"You didn't get it?"
"No," he was silent for a moment. I heard him push a button and a second later he came back on. "You know who the killer is?"
"Yes. His name is Logan Woodman. And the next time he calls, I want you to—"
"He already called."
"He did?"
"Yeah. I'm on my way to meet him now. That's why I'm calling. I need to tell you something."
My throat ran suddenly dry. "What?" I managed to croak out.
"I've spoken to my lawyer. If anything happens to me, I want you to know that you'll be taken care of." He hesitated. "The baby, too."
"Caden... you're scaring me. What are you talking about?"
"Nothing. I just want you to know that I'm sorry for the way I behaved the other night. I was a total asshole and had no right to talk to you like that. I've sorted things out with my lawyer—"
"What things? Caden, you're not going to die."
"I know that," he said, but I heard false reassurance in his voice. "I just wanted you to know that I love you and that you'll be okay."
"You're going to meet him right now, aren't you? The blackmailer."
When he didn't respond, I had my answer.
"Tell me where. I'll meet you there with Mac. With the whole damned police force."
"I can't risk you getting hurt. I love you too much."
"I love you, too, which is why—"
He hung up.
The te
ars came fast—almost as fast as my car when I stepped on the gas. Whether Caden wanted my help or not, he was going to get it.
46
Caden
I hung up with Raina before she could try to talk me out of going. It didn't matter if I had a name to go with the threats I'd been receiving. None of it mattered. Not now.
I'd gone directly from my house to my lawyer's. I'd never bothered to make up a will before. It had never occurred to me that I needed one. I'd assumed that if anything happened to me, my mom would get it all. She was the only living relative I had. Until now.
Despite what Raina may have been thinking, I wasn't going to meet the blackmailer with a death wish. I didn't want to die, just stop him. But I wasn't afraid of death either, not with so much at stake.
Raina had been right when she'd asked if reputation was the only thing I cared about. Up until now, it had been. Whether I'd been conscious of the fact or not, my reputation had always been first and foremost in my mind since high school.
I'd been the star athlete growing up. The star quarterback. Captain of the football team. The guy everybody wanted to be. It was a hard image to live up to. I wished I’d had more time to explain to Raina that I got it now. That all that shit was exactly that—shit. None of it mattered. In the end, reputations could be destroyed; families couldn't.
That baby Raina was carrying would always hold a part of me in it, no matter what. That was something that wouldn't fade with time. Raina would keep my memory alive if I wasn't here to do it myself. I knew that as surely as I knew that I was born to play football.
Looking back over my life, I wondered if there was anything that I regretted. Truly regretted.
If I had it to do over, I would've laid off the booze. Then again, even that had been a part of me. For better or worse, the drinking had me the person I was today. And right now, at this moment, I didn't think that was so bad. I was a son, a friend, a lover, and a father. That was a lot to do in twenty-seven years.
If there was one thing I could state with certainty that I would change, it would be Raina. I would never have wasted the time I had with her. Not the last month, and not the last decade. I would have stayed in touch and begged her to join me at Penn State or any other place she named.
Eli was the only other thing I thought I'd do differently. He deserved to be more than a garbage man. If I'd have stayed in touch with him, I would never have let him give up football. I would have insisted he stay in the game. He was too good to give it up.
My phone's GPS finally alerted me to the fact that I had reached my destination. It had felt like an hour's drive, but it had been no more than twenty minutes. My heart was racing. I was early, just as I'd wanted to be. I drove slowly past the address. Mr. Asshole—sorry, Mr. Woodman, according to Raina—had referred to this place simply as a "building." It was much more than that, though.
It was a massive abandoned hospital. I didn't think anyone had been inside it for years, except maybe for squatters and graffiti artists. He'd been right when he said there were multiple entrances and exits. I thought there were probably way more than ten. I looked for door number one, just as he'd instructed. It was on the south side of the building. The door was broken. Anyone could walk right in if they chose to.
I sped up and hurried past it. Now that I knew exactly what I was dealing with, I realized how stupid my initial idea of a rifle would have been. I would have had to pick a vantage point and set things up. I would also need to have a deadly aim. I'd practiced a few rounds at the gun range in the last few weeks, but a dead aim, I was not. At least, from a distance. Close-up, I thought, anyone could shoot to kill.
About a half mile away, I finally hit the residential neighborhood. I parked my car on a quiet street in front of a white house with a wooden fence. I memorized the street name and started to walk. By the time I got there, it was just before six.
I set the duffel bag in front of door one and pretended to leave, just in case he was already here. I went to the back of the hospital and worked my way back toward door one from the inside of the building. It was falling apart in here. I was afraid a floor might cave in on me before I could kill the bastard.
I picked a spot where I could easily see outside without easily being seen from the outside, and waited. I would wait all night if I had to.
47
Raina
Caden's bedroom was surprisingly and irritatingly empty. I opened every drawer and rummaged through every pocket I could find. Nothing. Not one scrap of paper to point me in the right direction. I gave up on his bedroom. It had been my starting place but was obviously a dead end.
I went back downstairs. His kitchen looked freshly scrubbed, but it was like someone had come in and half-assed the job. Globs of food were still stuck to the floor. I found broken glass on the counter. Mellow's food bowl was full, but the food in it had crusted over. He stood by it, staring at me as I went through Caden's cabinets.
One good thing about being a cop was that I could get in to just about anywhere. Of course, Caden had left the door unlocked, which was stupid of him but helpful to me. Next time I saw him, I'd have to chew him out for that.
Actually, leaving the door unlocked bothered me more than anything right now. He was normally so careful, especially after the break-ins. The fact that he'd left it open for anyone to enter told me that he thought he wasn't coming back.
I ran into the living room, searching for something that could lead me to wherever he'd gone. An address. The name of a town. Anything. But there was nothing. It was just as empty as his bedroom had been.
I plopped onto a couch and tried calling him for the twentieth time. He wasn't answering. For all I knew, he had his phone turned off. Hell, for all I knew, he was already dead.
Shut up! The voice in my head screamed so loudly, I think it shattered my eardrums. I decided to listen to it for once. I buried my head in my hands, trying to think.
"Meow?" Mellow was at my feet, looking up at me.
"You have food," I told him.
"MEOW."
I leaned over and scratched his head. He ran toward the kitchen. When I didn't follow, he came back and stared at me the way cats do when they want something. Mellow and I had only met a couple of times, but clearly, he thought he could get something from me.
"MEEEOOOOWWW!!"
"Okay, okay, jeez."
I went followed him into the kitchen where he stood next to his crusty food. "It does look pretty gross," I told him. I opened the cupboards, looking for a fresh can. I pulled one out and set it on the counter, cleaning out his food bowl before dumping the new can in. I picked up a rag to dry his dish and that's when I saw it.
A pad of paper sat on the counter near the food. It had been hidden under a rag, so I'd missed it the first time. On it was an address, and beneath that, Caden had written "100k, 8 pm."
My heart stopped. I ripped the paper off the pad and dialed Mac. He answered on the first ring. "Where are you? I thought you'd be here by now."
"I took a little detour."
"Well, while you were detouring, I was investigating. I ran that check on Woodman. Guess what? We got a hit. He was busted for breaking and entering about ten years ago. Spent six months inside."
"You're kidding."
"Nope."
"Any luck with a DNA match? What about prints?"
"He matches that partial we pulled off that safe a couple months back, but nothing we could use in court. Guess what I did find, though. Know what his middle name is?"
"His middle name? No idea."
"Anderson. Inside, everyone called him 'A.' "
My mouth clenched. "You think it's the 'A' we're after?"
"I'd bet my badge on it."
"I found an address. I think he's on his way there now."
"Give it to me. I'll meet you there."
"Careful when you get there. Caden's on the scene. He may be hiding."
"Caden Scott?" I heard the surprise in his voice.
&nb
sp; "Yeah, I'll fill you in later. Just keep him safe if you get there before me."
"That's my job."
We hung up. I gave Mellow his much-deserved food and raced out of Caden's driveway.
48
Caden
I waited. Never moving. Barely breathing. There! Something in the bushes! I started reaching for my gun. A squirrel popped its bushy little head out, winked at me, and then ran on its way.
I let out the breath I'd been holding.
I checked my phone again. Raina had called about ten times. There was no way I was calling her back. Not now. Not when I was so close to stopping him. I heard a car in the distance. It was getting closer. I put my hand on the gun, ready for whoever it was.
A car stopped on the street in front of door one. A man got out. I could tell that at one time, he'd been a handsome man. His jawline was strong, but the skin beneath his eyes sagged. His cheeks were ruddy but sallow. Even in the dark, his skin had a strange yellow tint to it. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. He looked like any other man in his forties with a receding hairline, except for the suspicious way his eyes kept moving. Kept searching. He looked like he expected trouble.
He walked slowly along the broken sidewalk, turning his head right and left. He was checking out his surroundings. Suddenly, he darted for the duffel bag. He didn't run; he just moved fast. I watched him, still waiting for my chance. I wasn't going to blow it by acting too soon.
When he got to the door, he kneeled down and opened the bag. A smile spread across his face.
"Lots more where that came from," he muttered to himself. His voice was hoarse.
He picked up the bag and began walking back to his car. I opened the front door and crept slowly out onto the walkway. He was no more than five feet ahead of me. My left foot stepped on a twig. The guy stopped moving. I lifted the gun. It was pointed at his back.
He turned around. His eyes widened in surprise. "Don't!" he said, holding up his hands. "I'm just the messenger!"