Inside Cut

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Inside Cut Page 23

by Tom Fowler


  “I do.”

  She smiled. “I have a few things in mind,” she said in a lascivious tone.

  It forced me to grin. “I’m sure you do. The first thing I need to do is eat, though. Pick a place and let’s get something delivered.”

  She opted for pizza and salad, and I don’t think I would have argued if she’d suggested sweetbreads and okra. Maybe then, only because I knew what the former was from watching cooking shows. Forty minutes later, we shared dinner on the couch, each of us enjoying our beer of choice. “You want to put the news on?” Gloria said when we were well into the entree round. “By now, the Hanson story might’ve gotten out.”

  I flipped on Channel 13. The clock struck six, so the five o-clock show ended, the hosts passing the baton to a new set of anchors. We watched a couple stories about murders because these things always kicked off the broadcast. Then, they pivoted to the Hanson story. Jessica Webber, looking both dynamite and professional in a skirt and blazer, reported from the campus. “An anonymous source provided us with emails sent from officials at the college to the campus police,” she said, driving a spike through the careers and futures of everyone involved.

  “What do you think will happen?” Gloria asked when the segment ended.

  “I’m pretty sure everyone on the hook will have to resign. There will be upheaval over there, but they’ll sort it out.”

  She patted my knee. “You did a lot of good.”

  “I hope this doesn’t thrust the victim into the spotlight, though. She went away quietly, and she might want to stay off the radar. I hope everyone respects her wishes.”

  “You think they will?”

  “Some,” I said. “Others will drag her out of hiding for a story.”

  It was a sobering thought in a case which proved full of them. After we ate and I washed the dishes, my phone rang. My parents must have watched the news, too. “Coningsby, is this the case you were working?” my mother said.

  “Not at the beginning, but I couldn’t ignore it. I got Calvin off the hook, but he was only there in the first place because of this whole mess.”

  “Were you Jessica’s source?”

  “If I told you, I may not be anonymous anymore,” I said.

  “Very well, dear. You did great work. Your father and I are very proud of you.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” She always told me this at the end of a case, like I brought home a good report card. Sometimes, I felt better about the resolutions than others. This was a mixed bag out of my concerns for the victim’s privacy.

  “Your father wants you to come by and watch the Hanson game tomorrow,” she said. “Richard will be there.”

  “How can I say no at this point?”

  “Great. We’ll see you tomorrow. Your father and I will transfer the usual amount into your account. Are you going to bring Gloria?”

  “Presuming she wants to watch a basketball game with three guys who don’t know the sport very well, sure.”

  “You’ve known Gloria a couple years now,” my mother said. I didn’t reply. “Do we need to go ring shopping soon?”

  “Mom! No, we don’t.”

  “Suit yourself, dear. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

  We hung up. I asked Gloria if she wanted to watch the Hanson game in the company of three men who sort of understood basketball. “I’d be a fool to say no,” she said with a grin.

  I put the dishes away. Gloria slipped up behind me and rubbed my shoulders. Tension fled my body as her fingers worked their magic. “How about we go upstairs?” she said, her breath close to my ear. “You can enjoy the company of a woman who sort of understands massage.”

  “I’d be a fool to say no.”

  Chapter 29

  John Hanson College tipped off against South Carolina at two-thirty. I knew Rich would arrive early, and the same would be expected of me, so Gloria and I snaked our way up my parents’ long driveway at two o’clock sharp. My mother might faint when I walked through the front door thirty minutes ahead of schedule. Gloria and I both wore jeans with me opting for a hoodie and her for a sweater. I let Gloria walk ahead of me so I could study how her jeans hugged her hips. I wished the stroll from the car were a longer one.

  We entered through the front door, moved past the foyer and unused living room to the family room. Here, my father mounted a huge TV on the wall over the objection of my mother a few years ago. Both of my parents and Rich sat on the couch. None of them acknowledged Gloria and me as we entered the room. When I saw the TV, I understood why.

  “The president, vice president, athletic director, and three board members from John Hanson College resigned today,” the well-dressed woman on the news told us. “More departures may be imminent, especially in the campus police force, which was also named in the sexual assault cover-up now rocking the school. The Presidents, of course, play South Carolina later today in the first round of the NCAA tournament.

  “None of the officials offered any comment when asked. The school’s public relations director said they would have a statement tomorrow. Meantime, the dean of students, Erin Bellagamba, will serve as acting president. The Baltimore County Police and Maryland State Police are investigating the campus force.

  “Basketball coach Lou Baker, who’s also the assistant athletic director, had no comment for reporters before the game.”

  My father muted the sound. “Quite a shakeup,” he said. He offered Gloria a larger smile than he did me. I couldn’t blame him. “Hello, Gloria.”

  “Thanks for having us,” she said. “It was a difficult invitation to pass up.”

  My mother gave me a quick hug as she passed, bringing a fresh bowl of tortilla chips from the kitchen. Gloria and I ate a small lunch before we came, figuring my parents would outdo themselves on the snacks. The aroma of something cooking in the oven wafted into the family room. I fetched a couple brews from the fridge, plopped down on the loveseat, and Gloria sat beside me.

  “This all turned out pretty well,” Rich said. He raised his bottle in salute. I did the same.

  “I figured they’d clean house. The question was whether it would be before the game or after the team’s run in the tournament ended.”

  “I’m kind of surprised they did it now. It risks distracting the players.”

  “I’m not,” I said. “Considering what happened and who was involved in squelching it, I think they needed to move as quickly as possible. You have to show the public you’re taking these things seriously. It all started because some people prioritized athletes over the woman they raped. It couldn’t end the same way.”

  Rich nodded. “Makes sense.”

  “I’m glad they’re all gone,” my father said. “I think a bunch more will follow.”

  “No doubt,” I said. “Baker’s probably gone whenever they lose a game. I think they’ll broom all the cops out. Too many problems there. The county will probably have to take it over until they bring in new people.”

  “Maybe your buddy Gonzalez will end up running it,” Rich said.

  I chuckled. “He has enough problems.”

  A few minutes later, my mother brought in another round of food. This time, it was dueling plates of chicken tenders and scallops wrapped in bacon. “I need to watch more games over here,” I said, putting a little of each onto my plate.

  “Don’t get used to it, dear,” my mother said. “Your father’s in charge of the menu and cooking for the next one.”

  “Pizza and wings sound good?” he said.

  We all concurred. Tipoff took place at two-thirty sharp. Hanson deployed their three-guard lineup, and I remembered Coach Bowser educating me on “Nellie ball.” So much happened since then it seemed like a long time ago. South Carolina won the tip, worked the ball to their center, and he dominated the smaller defenders for an easy bucket. Calvin led the offense, working a give-and-go with another player, then making an inside cut. He deked a defender and banked a layup in off the backboard.

  “I think this is how they’ll
both play,” Rich said. “Hanson doesn’t use their center much, and South Carolina has a good one.”

  “You must’ve watched the pregame show.”

  Rich grinned. “I may have read up on the matchup.”

  The first half continued the back-and-forth pace. Neither squad could build a big lead. Hanson went up by six at one point, then a cold spell from the floor caused them to trail by three a minute later. The Gamecocks enjoyed a lead for a while, but Calvin made a great pass before the halftime whistle, and a last-second three sent the teams into the locker room with JHC trailing by a single point.

  “What was the line?” my father asked.

  “Hanson is a seven-point underdog,” I said. “They were last night, at least. I don’t know if everything happening earlier affected it.”

  “It’s nice to watch the team and not wonder if they’re trying to hold down the score,” Rich said.

  I nodded. “Now, we know they’re trying to win. They’re playing a good game.”

  Gloria looked up from her phone. “Calvin leads all scorers with sixteen points. I hope Iris is watching the game somewhere.”

  “Me, too,” I said. “Someone needs to record it for her. It might be her dad’s last college game, and she’s too young to remember it.”

  “Nothing’s come out about the point shaving?” Rich said.

  “Not yet.”

  “You think it will?”

  “I don’t know. The administrators are dealing with enough at the moment. Some of them will be charged, I’m sure. If the emails get released to the public, it could come out.”

  “What happens to Calvin, then?” my father said.

  “No one knows. It should hurt his draft stock, but considering everything else going on at Hanson, plus his daughter getting kidnapped. I wonder if it would even damage him.”

  I brought everyone fresh beverages from the kitchen and went back to fill up the snack bowls. My mother disappeared somewhere. Sports didn’t interest her, and I knew she’d be happy to cede the family room to the basketball crowd. The second half continued the give and take of the first half. None of us got off the couch except for quick bathroom breaks at TV timeouts. The Presidents, despite being a smaller school engulfed by scandal, were hanging with the much larger program.

  A few seconds remained. South Carolina enjoyed a one-point lead, 86-85. Hanson inbounded the ball. Calvin dumped it off and moved up the floor. Eddie Robinson brought the ball up for Hanson. He’d been their second best player all game. Robinson faked a pass to the left side. Calvin made a sharp inside cut, took a perfect bounce pass, and laid it in for the lead. South Carolina called an immediate timeout, and the actual end of the game dragged on some more.

  They got the ball in. “They’ll look for the center,” Rich said, and he proved right when the ball headed toward the big man. Calvin jumped in the way, however, and dribbled away the final second. The Hanson players raised their arms in victory and ran around the court. Coach Baker and his staff congratulated their counterparts, then joined in the merriment. For this evening at least, John Hanson College experienced something to smile about.

  In the fracas on the court, cameras found Calvin. He cried tears of joy.

  THE END

  Afterword

  Do you like free books? You can get the prequel novella to the C.T. Ferguson mystery series for free. This is exclusive to my VIP readers. Just go here to get your book!

  If you enjoyed this book, I hope you’ll leave a review. Even a short writeup makes a difference. Reviews help independent authors get their books discovered by more readers and qualify for promotions. To leave a review, go to the book’s sales page, select a star rating, and enter your comments. If you read this book on a tablet or phone, your reading app will likely prompt you to leave a review at the end.

  The C.T. Ferguson Crime Novels:

  The Reluctant Detective

  The Confessional (novella)

  The Unknown Devil

  Land of the Brave (novella)

  The Workers of Iniquity

  Red City Blues (novella)

  Already Guilty

  Daughters and Sons

  A March from Innocence

  Inside Cut

  While this is the suggested reading sequence, the books can be enjoyed in whatever order you happen upon them.

  Connect with me:

  If you’re into social media and book sites, you’ll find me. I have an author page on Facebook and a profile on Instagram. For new release notifications, you can follow me on BookBub or Amazon. And, of course, there’s good old-fashioned email.

  This is a work of fiction. Characters and places are either fictitious or used in a fictitious manner.

  “Self-publishing” is something of a misnomer. This book would not have been possible without the contributions of many people.

  The cover design team at 100 Covers.

  My editor extraordinaire, Chase Nottingham.

  My advance reader team, the Fell Street Irregulars.

 

 

 


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