Playing for Keeps (24 page)

“Wrong,” he assured her.

She smiled again. “Then explain
this
.”

Without waiting for his response, she walked him through Exhibits A, B and C.

Bannerman glanced at Decker. “What’s up with her?”

“She’s relentless. And yeah, she’s wrong. But it’s not gonna stop her.”

Erica jumped in. “How am I wrong? Work with me, guys. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner you can go home.”

Bannerman shrugged. “The problem is, it won’t fix anything. If we tell you, then three people will know. Or four, actually. But it won’t do a damned bit of good.”

Then he turned to Decker and murmured, “She’s not gonna tell the big dog, is she?”

“I don’t think so. But she’s pissed as hell at him, so who knows?”

“At John?” Bannerman seemed stunned. “What did
he
do?”

“She thinks he pimped her out to me.”

“What?”

“That’s enough,” Erica scolded them. “This isn’t about me and Johnny. It’s about you guys. Tell me why you were mad at each other. Even before the Atlanta game.” When they didn’t respond, she added crisply, “I’m counting to five. Then I’m calling your QB and telling him all about this video.”

Bannerman groaned aloud. Then he looked her in the eyes and said simply, “I fucked up. But it wasn’t my fault.”

“Because he was drunk,” Decker explained dryly.

“No,” the halfback protested. “It’s because I’m not good with faces.”

She tried not to smile. “In other words, I’m right. It’s about a girl. And you’re not good with faces, but you
are
good with bodies? So who is she?”

“Let Deck tell it.”

“No way,” Decker muttered. “This is your story.”

Erica looked at their mournful expressions and knew Decker had been correct when he said she’d be sorry. She almost was already. But they had come this far, so she told Bannerman, “I promise I won’t tell anyone. Including Johnny.”

“Okay.” He coughed as if clearing a lump from his throat. “It’s true, I had a couple of beers. But that’s no big deal, right? I was in a bar in my hotel, so I wasn’t driving or anything. Everyone else had gone to bed, but I was restless, so I went back downstairs. Just to see if anyone was around. Then I saw this girl. And I swear, Erica, she didn’t look familiar. Even though I was pretty sure I’d seen her before.”

“That’s what familiar
means
, idiot,” Decker muttered.

Erica grabbed Bannerman’s forearm. “Don’t listen to him. You’re doing great. You didn’t recognize her. And she was pretty?”

“She was hot,” he corrected. “Curly hair, big eyes, lots of pumped-up cleavage.”

“She sounds lovely. What happened next?”

“I bought her a drink. And we hit it off. No big deal, right? And she gave me a fake name. So how was I supposed to know who she was?”

“A fake name?” She felt a pang of dread. Not Decker’s girlfriend, apparently. But maybe his sister? Or worse?

“Yeah. I can’t remember what it was, but I know it was fake. Anyway, after that, we went up to my room and had a great time. Everything was cool. I was a perfect gentleman,” he insisted. “Like even when she was leaving the next morning, I went to the door with her to say good-bye. Nice, right?”

“It’s very sweet,” she agreed.

To her surprise, Decker took up the tale. “We were all staying in the same hotel. Like always. I got up early to work out before breakfast. That’s when I saw her in the hall. And since
I’m
not an effing idiot, I recognized her right away.”

“Who was she?” Erica whispered.

Bannerman interrupted. “It was dark when I saw her in the bar. And dark in the room too. And Deck’s better with faces.”

“That’s because I actually
look
at their faces,” the kicker reminded him.

Erica felt as if she were going to explode. “Just tell me who she was. And hurry up about it.”

Bannerman heaved a remorseful sigh. “She was the coach’s wife.”

“The coach?” Erica tried not to react but it was too late. The wind had been sucked out of her lungs. Her guts had been extracted through her navel. And her brain had self-destructed. And in the instant before she lost all hope, she fervently wished Bannerman had simply banged Decker’s sister. Or even Johnny’s sister. Maybe even
her
sister, if only she had one to offer up in sacrifice.

“You mean, like
your
coach? Coach Cosner?”

“Yeah, Erica,” Decker drawled. “Aren’t you glad you asked?”

• • •

Huddling in front of the fire, but still chilled to the bone, she wrapped her favorite sweater around herself more tightly and tried to get a grip. To make matters even more confusing, Decker and Bannerman were suddenly getting along. Chatting and working on the puzzle, ignoring her completely.

Because they just dumped this atrocity on you,
she told herself grimly.
And you need to dump it back. Fast!

But it was taking her a few minutes to process.

Bannerman had slept with the coach’s wife. Of all possible NFL sins, this was undoubtedly the worst of the worst.

“We’re not done here,” she called over to them weakly.

“Sure we are,” Decker called back. “Welcome to hell, Bannerman style.”

“Hey,” Bannerman objected. “It’s your fault too. If you hadn’t recognized her in the hallway, we wouldn’t even know.”

“Yeah,” Decker muttered. “Because that makes so much sense.”

As Erica listened, she realized she was rocking to and fro. And to her shame, it was actually helping. This was a nightmare. The very thing Decker had warned her about from the start.

She had wanted to know. Now she knew. But there was nothing she could do about it. She couldn’t tell Johnny, that was for sure. He might strangle Bannerman. And even if he didn’t, he’d understand that a sacrilege of mythic proportions had taken place, and all they could do was hunker down and wait for the shit to hit the fan.

“Do we think she’ll tell her husband?” she asked finally. “That’s the issue, right? I mean, she’s got as much to lose as you do. Right?”

Decker eyed her with disdain. “Seriously?”

“He’s right,” Bannerman murmured. “It’s not the same.”

“She cheated on her own husband,” Erica reminded them. “That’s just as bad.”

“I banged my coach’s wife. Trust us, that’s worse. Even if he’s a dick.” He walked over and pulled Erica to her feet, then looked into her eyes. “The big dog’s gonna be pissed, right?”

“Probably.”

“Even though I didn’t recognize her?”

Erica’s mind grasped at that straw. “Is it possible she didn’t recognize you either? Maybe she just thinks you’re some random guy from a bar.”

“You’re as bad as he is,” Decker said. “How could she not recognize him? She sees him every week, at least on TV. She comes to parties and weddings and funerals. And look at him. He’s as big as an ox. She couldn’t miss him if she tried.”

“And she kept saying my name when I was banging her,” Bannerman offered helpfully. “So I’m pretty sure she knew who I was.”

“Would you
please
stop using that stupid word?”

“What am I supposed to say? That I made love to my coach’s wife? That sounds worse.”

“Like I said,” Decker muttered. “Hell, Bannerman style. We’ve been having this stupid discussion for weeks.”

“That’s my point. It’s been weeks. So it’s probably fine.” She wilted under his glare, but persisted. “The only real danger is that the coach will find out. And the team chemistry—what’s left of it—will go down the drain. Right?”

“And then your boyfriend will kill me,” Bannerman assured her. “His dad’s a coach, you know. So he’s opposed to this kind of thing.”

“
Everyone
is opposed to this kind of thing,” Decker told him sharply. “It’s part of the code. We may not like Coz, or even respect him. But he’s part of the team.”

“It’s horrible,” Erica agreed. “But it was an accident. Just like the broken hand. And she hasn’t said anything yet. So maybe it’s okay. As long as it never happens again.”

“I’d rather bang a nun,” Bannerman assured her.

She laughed in spite of herself, but when Decker glared at her, she recovered quickly. “Fine. It isn’t funny. But let’s face it, it’s bizarre. And she’s been in the news before, hasn’t she? Some sort of weird scandal. So maybe she’s not Snow White. More like one of the dwarves. Sneezy or Dopey.”

“Or Slutty?” Bannerman suggested with a chuckle.

She bit back another laugh, reaching for her laptop instead. “I know she did something crazy once. I just don’t remember what it was. What if she makes a habit of sleeping with his players?”

“Which would mean I’m innocent?” Bannerman asked. “It’s entrapment or something, right?”

“Be quiet.” She turned back to Decker. “Do you remember the rumors?”

He shook his head. “She always seems so nice. Like a saint compared to Coz, for sure. He cheats on her all the time. But if she was doing it a lot, I’m pretty sure we’d know.”

She suspected he was right. But she was sure there was something in this chick’s past. “Cosner was the coach at Stanford when I was at Cal. So I heard about him. And something about her too, I think.”

“Yeah. John remembers him from those days too.”

She closed her eyes and searched the part of her brain that stored useless facts and gossip. “It’s like he was engaged to her, then cheated on her—
no
! He was engaged to her sister, then ran off with her instead.”

“The sister?” Bannerman asked. “Or the wife?”

“Quiet.” She Googled frantically. “He married his fiancée’s sister. Which makes
her
the sister who stole her sister’s husband. Or something. Do we know her first name?”

“It’s Kerrie,” Decker said.

“Okay, here it is.” She stared, delighted in a sick way. “And it’s worse than I remembered. They’re not just sisters. They’re twins.” She pulled up a photo array. “Kerrie and Melody. Clearly identical, but with different styles. So?” She turned to Bannerman and arched a hopeful eyebrow. “Are you sure you slept with the wife? Not the sister?”

“Man, that would be great,” he replied, so humble—almost dazed—she realized for the first time how bad he actually felt about all this.

“Yeah,” Decker murmured. “That would be awesome.”

Erica smiled at him. “You’re the one who recognized her in the hallway the next morning. Are you sure it was the wife?”

Bannerman interrupted. “The one I banged had an amazing bod and big brown eyes. If that helps.”

“They’re
twins
,” Erica reminded him, laughing. “So they’d have the same body and the same eyes. According to this website, Kerrie lives in Portland with her husband, which makes sense. But so does Melody. Which is odd if you met her in Atlanta.”

“The wife travels with the team sometimes,” Decker murmured. “So it was probably her after all.”

“I like Erica’s theory,” Bannerman insisted. “I banged the twin. Same face, same rack. I’ve never banged twins,” he added with a proud smile. “Sisters, yeah. But not twins.”

“My ears are bleeding,” Decker told Erica.

“Mine too. But this is good, don’t you think? Because if he banged Melody, then he didn’t bang your coach’s wife.”

“Right. He just had sex with his coach’s sister-in-law. Who was also his ex-fiancée.” Decker shrugged. “But yeah, it makes a difference. The question is, how can we know?”

“Should I call her?” Bannerman asked hopefully.

Erica rolled her eyes. “Let’s avoid contact, shall we? Just look at these pictures. See if there’s anything familiar about either of them. A mole or a scar.” She studied the photos. “It’s amazing, really. They’re truly identical.”

“Mine had a tattoo,” he murmured. “On her ass though, so that probably won’t help.”

Erica rolled her eyes again. Then she asked Decker, “You’ve never seen the two of them together? At weddings and funerals? Or important games?”

He shook his head. “I would’ve remembered that.”

“They probably still hate each other. It’s only been six years or so,” she mused, returning her attention to the photos. “So the odds are they don’t hang out together. But there has to be something.” She looked to Decker again. “Does she wear Lancers jerseys to the games? Kerrie, I mean?”

“All I know is she always looks nice. Traditional, not slutty or anything.”

She looked to Bannerman. “Do you remember what she was wearing that night?”

“She was naked. So was I.”

“Would you
please
grow up?”

“She had a dress and shoes. And a tattoo on her ass. And streaky stuff in her hair that matched her fingernails.”

“Streaky stuff? Like hair color? Was it red?”

“Yeah, and it was hot.”

“Like
this
?” She turned her laptop screen toward him so he could see one of the twins with red cellophane highlights in her pale blonde hair.

“Yeah, that’s her. Man,” he said wistfully. “She’s so pretty.”

Decker crowded in front of the display. “Which one is that?”

“Melody,” Erica confirmed. “And look! She streaked it in this picture too, only it’s blue. And this one last year. Very exotic. As opposed to these shots of the wife. You’re right about that, she’s much more traditional than Melody.”

Decker’s tone grew soft with optimism. “So maybe it’s true. It was the twin, not the wife.” He gave Bannerman an amazed look. “Can you believe this?”

“It’s a miracle,” the halfback agreed. “I mean, I hate Coz, but I still felt bad about it.”

“Yeah.” Decker licked his lips. “I thought the season was over when I saw you with her.”

Erica watched as they quietly recalibrated their friendship. Decker looked sheepish, realizing he had unfairly accused his friend
and
broken his hand. And Bannerman seemed euphoric, because despite his outrageous personality, he was a decent guy at heart and had regretted the alleged adultery. Especially with his coach’s wife, which could lead to the sort of team disharmony—or outright chaos—that could haunt the Lancers for decades.

Finally, Bannerman spoke. “She was cool. I mean that in a nice way. So maybe I can talk to her. Ask her not to tell Coz.”