Impulsive (20 page)

"But you don't," Jess told her honestly. "You have
a voice so sexy men must dream about it at night."

"Tell that to my high school choir director," Pepper
retorted with a wry grin.

"Oh, she was probably just jealous," Destiny commented.

Pepper shook her head. " 'She' was a 'he,' but come to think
of it, he did have this high voice that made him sound rather like Mickey
Mouse."

"I've never liked my toes," Jazz contributed. "They
look like ugly little bent twigs. That's why I never wear sandals."

"I'll take your toes over my tattoo any day," Destiny
claimed.

"What tattoo?" Jess asked curiously.

Destiny wrinkled up her nose. "The one on my behind."

Pepper let loose a bark of laughter. "You've got to see this
sometime, Jess. No kidding. It's a picture of a cute little skunk, on Destiny's
right cheek."

Destiny gave a long-suffering sigh. "Well, tell the world,
why don't you, Pepper? It's bad enough Mom thought it was such a nifty idea,
without you hollering about it."

"Well, you've got to admit it probably made changing your
diapers a lot more fun," Jazz proposed past a chortle. "And it
certainly fits the spot. What else would she put there? A rose?"

"I'll bet it is embarrassing," Jess commiserated.
"If you truly dislike it that badly, can't you have it removed?"

The game against the Cardinals was a nail biter. For every score
the Knights made, the Cards matched it. While trying to stay on top of the
game, Jess fiddled with her earphones. Either they had been repaired or this
was a different set, for no matter how she tried she couldn't get any signals
other than those she was supposed to receive.

They were playing outdoors today, on a grass field in Sun Devil
Stadium. Though hot, the dry breeze made it fairly temperate and kept the bugs
at bay. Which was why Jess noticed the one reserve player on the bench who seemed
to be terrifically uncomfortable. The poor fellow kept shifting and scratching
and tugging at his clothes. Jess was soon itching herself, just watching him.
Finally, out of self-defense, she approached him.

"I
don't mean to be too personal, Ervin, but do you have a bad case
of poison ivy, or hives, or something?"

The man looked up at her, startled. "No ma'am. Why?"

"I've seen flea-bitten dogs who didn't scratch and fuss the
way you have been," she told him bluntly. "Frankly, you're making me
itch. Maybe you should check this out with the doctor. Could be you're allergic
to something."

"I'll do that, Coach Myers." She was blocking his view
of the field, and he angled his head to see around her. "Uh, could you
scoot over a bit, please?"

"Sorry." Jess moved to one side and stood there to watch
the upcoming play. From the corner of her eye, she saw Ervin tug at his left
ear. Not once, but three times. Then he gave his knee a couple of quick slaps.
Probably no more than nervous gestures, but that reporter's instinct Jess had
mentioned to Alan kicked in.

On a hunch, Jess stepped in front of him again prior to the next
play. Though he didn't say anything, she saw him frown
and
shift to another spot on the bench. It struck her, however, that his new
position was even less advantageous to viewing the game. He rubbed his nose,
then bent to retie his shoelace— though it wasn't untied to begin with.

She turned in time to watch the rival defense make a quick
realignment on the field. The ball was snapped, and Ty had to scrap his plan to
throw to Gabe. He scarcely handed the ball off to another receiver before
getting rammed to the ground. He got up slowly, and for a minute Jess was
afraid he'd been injured. Fortunately, he didn't appear to be hurt as he
plucked a chunk of grass from his shoulder pad—just supremely angry.

The Knights were now in a third down and ten situation, too far
downfield for a field goal attempt. Once more, her own temper rising, Jess
tested her burgeoning theory. As if unaware that she was again stepping into
his line of sight, Jess stationed herself in front of Ervin. When he scooted to
the right, so did she. He stood up and walked past the end of the bench, and
even though she wanted to, Jess couldn't follow. It would have been too
obvious. But she did watch, her lips tightening, as Ervin scratched his chest,
first up and down and then across, and stamped his left foot twice.

Within seconds, the defense shifted into a more advantageous
lineup. Again, the Knights' play was fouled, and they had to punt the ball
away.

The moment she could, Jess cornered Ty. "There's something
fishy going on with Ervin," she told him bluntly. "He keeps fidgeting
and making all sorts of odd motions, and every time he does, the opposing
defense changes position immediately afterward, and your play goes down the
tubes."

Ty glanced at Ervin and back at Jess, a scowl growing. "Are
you sure?"

Jess shrugged. "I was standing right there, and whenever I
moved in front of him, he'd move to another spot. Then he'd scratch, or tie a
shoe that didn't need tying, or some such thing. It may just be my imagination
working overtime, but I could almost swear he's sending signals to somebody. I
just don't know to whom, because he didn't seem to be in full view of anyone on
the other team, at least not that I could tell."

"He's not squirming around now," Ty observed.

"No, he only seems to do it when our offense is on the
field," she said. "Am I nuts, or does that strike you as a bit
odd?"

Ty gave a sharp jerk of his head, his eyes narrowing into slits as
he stared at Ervin. "More than a bit, darlin'. But we're still shy on
proof here. Why don't we try a little scam of our own and see what
happens?"

Ty hustled Jess to where Coach Danvers was pacing the sidelines.
After advising the man of her suspicions, Jess listened as Ty and Danvers
swiftly formulated a plan of action. When the Knights' offense next took the
field, Ty was armed with a totally new series of unscheduled plays.

As Coach Danvers and Jess watched, Ervin began to fidget. For no apparent
reason, he put his helmet on and abruptly removed it. He pulled at the armpit
of his shirt. When the new play Ty called succeeded in garnering the Knights a
first down, Ervin looked befuddled. He picked up his playbook and seemed to be
studying it. As the second play was set up, he tipped his water jug to his
mouth in four jerks and wiped his hand down his right thigh. This play also
gained yardage, and Ervin frowned and checked his playbook again.

By now, Danvers was cursing beneath his breath. For a third time,
Ervin made a series of odd motions, and when Ty made a surprise shovel pass to
Chili that resulted in a touchdown, Ervin definitely appeared more frustrated
than elated at his team's score. As the others cheered, his gaze was trained on
the section of stands beyond the goal post, as if he were searching for someone
there. Jess saw him shake his head and make a hand gesture, as if to say it
wasn't his fault.

"That lousy son of a bitch!" Danvers cursed. "I'm
gonna tack his traitor's hide to a wall and use him for target practice. And it
won't be footballs I'm aiming at him, either!"

"I'm sorry, Coach," Jess told him. "I was hoping I
was wrong."

"Don't be sorry, Jess. I'm glad you noticed, especially since
no one else seemed to be aware enough to catch on. You may
have
just saved this team a whole season of defeats, and for that I can't thank you
enough."

Two hours later, Jess was in the center of a police investigation,
and up to her ears in her own feelings of guilt. "If I hadn't said anything...,"
she lamented. "Oh, Ty, I feel so responsible."

Ty hugged her to his side. "Jess, it's not your fault. If you
hadn't noticed what Ervin was doing, eventually someone else would have."

"I know, but... good God, Ty! The man hanged himself in the
locker room! He's dead because I ratted on him! I might just as well have
knotted the rope and handed it to him!"

Danvers stepped up to her other side. "Ervin wouldn't have
resorted to this if he wasn't guilty, Jess. It's his fault, not yours, for
getting himself tangled up in this situation."

"Did the police find a suicide note or anything?" she
asked.

Danvers shook his head. "No. Just Ervin and his playbook.
They took it as evidence, of course, to see if it contains any phone numbers or
anything else that might be useful in discovering who was paying him in
exchange for our plays. Right now, we're still in the dark about that, but it
was probably Ervin, or someone he was signaling to, who was transmitting the
plays you heard the other week over your headphones."

"Damn! What a mess!" Ty declared tiredly. He rubbed at
the bridge of his nose, trying to alleviate the pounding pain in his head.
"With Ervin dead, I don't suppose anyone else is about to admit to any
wrongdoing, either. We may never know who is behind all this."

"It's a crying shame any way you look at it," Danvers
agreed. "The kid was only a rookie, but he had potential—if only he'd had
a little patience. I keep wondering if he did this out of spite, because he
only made third string and would be warming the bench most of the season. Or if
he'd gotten himself into a financial pinch of some kind."

Ty sighed. "Could be someone made him an offer he couldn't
refuse,
for whatever reason. But it won't do much good to
second-guess
the matter at this point."

"When I said I wanted you to generate some team publicity,

Jessie, I sure as shit didn't mean this way!" Tom shouted. He
waved the newspaper at her, the front page headlines blaring Ervin's death. A
grainy photo of Jess, Ty, and Danvers also graced the page, along with a
separate picture of Ervin. "Hell's bells, girl! You were supposed to
report on the team, not investigate it!"

"Then you shouldn't have hired me to begin with," Jess
shot back with a glower. "You know my forte is investigative reporting,
not publicity pieces. I was only doing this as a favor to you. Now I'm sorry I
ever agreed to it."

"So am I, dammit!" he concurred angrily.

"Then you'll be glad to know that my story is done, video
clips and all, and ready to submit to the sports network. Of course, with this
latest development, they may want me to add to it, but for the most part it's
finished."

"Thank God for small blessings. Now you won't have to hang
around here all the time poking your nose into team business. You can get
involved with more interesting projects that are more up your alley."

His tone was brusque and cutting, wounding Jess to the core. She'd
never seen him like this, or had him speak to her in this manner. Always
before, since she could remember, he'd been kind, jovial Tommy. It was like
meeting a stranger in her godfather's body. She could scarcely withhold her
tears as she responded in turn.

"Oh, you're not getting rid of me that easily, Tommy. I'm
still coaching Alan, don't forget."

He glared at her and snapped, "You're fired. How's that, Miss
Reporter?"

"Not good enough. If you'll review my contract, you'll see
that you alone cannot discharge me. Coach Danvers and the other two owners have
to agree, and right now they're a lot more grateful to me for rooting out the
rat in the woodpile than you are. Not that I'm proud of the resulting consequences,
but you could still have a turncoat in your midst if not for me."

Tommy looked as if he were about to blow a gasket. "I'll
still put it to a vote," he vowed. "And another thing," he said,
pointing a finger at her accusingly, "just what is going on between you
and that hot-shot quarterback?"

"That's none of your business, Nelson." Both Tom and
Jess jerked around as Ty barged into the office.

"I don't recall inviting you to this meeting," Tom
declared tersely.

"You didn't have to," Ty told him flatly. "Your
little chat can be heard all over the building, so I assume it's not exactly
confidential."

"Is that all you came to say?" Tom inquired. "If
so, you can leave now."

"Not without Jess. You've dragged her over the coals long
enough, Nelson, and you're placing blame where it doesn't belong. Ervin was the
culprit here, not Jess. So back off."