Thread of Hope (The Joe Tyler Series, #1) (9 page)

BOOK: Thread of Hope (The Joe Tyler Series, #1)
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She was their leader.

 

“Think so,” I said, sitting down on a concrete wall that lined the walk.  “We’ll see what your coach says.”

 

“Do you know Coach Winslow?” she asked.

 

The other girls–three of them whose names I couldn’t recall–watched me intently.

 

“I do,” I said.  “He’s a friend.”

 

Meg nodded, like that was alright.  “I liked him.  We all did.”

 

The girls behind her nodded.

 

“Where’s Meredith?” I asked, wondering what kind of reaction I’d get.  “Why wasn’t she at practice?”

 

The girls behind Meg flinched as a group, almost taking a step back, like they needed to get away.

 

Meg just shrugged.  “She’s taking a couple of days off.  Until she feels better.”

 

“Friends with her?”

 

“We all are.”

 

“She pretty good?”  I pointed a thumb back over my shoulder.  “Can she play?”

 

“Best player we have,” Meg answered.  “We need her.”

 

“Think she’ll be back soon?  To play?”

 

Meg adjusted the canvas bag on her shoulder.  “Are you just trying to get answers out of me?  Because you’re an investigator or whatever?”

 

In real life, word travels fast.  In a high school, word traveled at Internet speed.  Still, I was surprised she knew about me.

 

“Someone saw you at school today,” she said, shrugging, reading my expression.  “Heard you at the desk, talking.”

 

Internet speed.

 

“Yeah,” I said.  “I guess I am trying to get answers out of you.  Only because I want to help my friend and Meredith, though.  If you know something, or anybody knows something, I’d like to know about it.”

 

A cobalt-blue Ford Mustang roared up to the curb behind the girls.  Meg glanced over her shoulder, then back at me.  “Gotta cruise.  I don’t know anything, Coach.  If I did, I’d tell you and so would any of the other girls on the team.”  She held up a hand.  “Later.”

 

She slapped hands with her teammates.  They followed her to the curb and scattered around the Mustang to their own cars.  Meg opened the car door and slid into the passenger seat, then leaned across and kissed the boy driving it before she shut the door.  They tore out of the lot.

 

The boy hadn’t seen me.

 

But I’d seen him.

 

My buddy Matt, the one who had been tailing me in Seaport Village.

 

SEVENTEEN

 

 

 

 

 

Kelly Rundles emerged from the gym in a hooded sweatshirt, a huge duffel bag on her shoulder.  She convinced me that I was as hungry as she was and I followed her to a coffee shop over on Orange.

 

After we ordered, she looked at me over her Diet Coke.  “So.  I’m probably not supposed to be talking to you.”

 

I dropped a straw in my soda.  “Don’t see why not.  Your A.D. didn’t ban me from campus.”

 

“Yeah, but the man who matters probably wouldn’t be very happy.”

 

“Jon Jordan?”

 

Her mouth twisted up with irritation.  “And probably most of the other parents, too.”

 

“I don’t want you to lose your job,” I said.

 

“Oh, I won’t,” she said.  “The team is winning.  Trust me.  That supersedes just about everything around Coronado.  They might tell me they aren’t happy about it, but they won’t do a damn thing as long as we’re winning games.”

 

“Wasn’t like that when I went there,” I told her.  “People barely cared.  May have had something to do with us not being very good.”

 

She smiled in a way that told me she’d experienced that, too.  “That’ll make people not care in a hurry.

 

I felt like, maybe, I’d finally made a solid connection with someone who might be able to help.  “The girls said Meredith’s taking a couple of days off?”

 

Kelly sat back in the booth, concern and anxiety filtering into her features.  “Yeah.  She’s been through a lot.  She needs to get herself right before she comes back.  But I’d expect that to be just another day or two.”

 

“Tough kid?”

 

“The toughest,” she said, stirring the straw in her soda.  “Plays her ass off.”

 

“Meg told me she’s the best player on your team.”

 

Kelly nodded.  “She is.  Easily.  She’s carried us the last two years.  Being recruited by a lot of West Coast schools.  Not that she needs a scholarship with her family’s money, but she’s that good.”

 

Our food came and as the waitress slipped the plates in front of us, I asked “Outside of basketball, what kind of kid is she?”

 

Kelly pulled her napkin down into her lap.  “Smart, sharp, solid.  One of the ones I don’t have to worry about.”  She held her fork above her salad.  “That’s why it all seemed so odd.”

 

“It all?”

 

She shoved a forkful of lettuce into her mouth, chewed and nodded.  “When she filed the complaint against Winslow.”

 

“You didn’t buy it?” I asked.

 

“Wasn’t about buying it,” she said.  “I was stunned that she’d be the kid in the middle of something like this.”  She laid her fork down.  “I don’t know what it was like when you went here, but I’ll bet it was different.  These kids?  They don’t act fifteen.  They act like yuppies.  A lot of the girls date college guys.  Seems like they all drive cars that are worth what most people would like to put down on a home.  Dress like they’re always going clubbing and that’s because, half the time, they
are
going clubbing.”  She picked up the fork again.  “So I’m not surprised that a girl at Coronado might get mixed up in something.  I was just surprised that it was Meredith.”

 

“Did you believe her?” I picked up my sandwich but didn't take a bite.

 

She hesitated, pursed her lips, then nodded.  “At first, yeah.  Like I said, she’s a sharp kid.  No bullshit in her, you know?  I know her better than Winslow, so I immediately believed her.”

 

“Chuck wouldn’t hurt a kid,” I said, feeling the need to get it out there as to where I stood.

 

“After I talked to him, I believed that, too,” she said.  “They both seemed like they were telling the truth.  So I don’t have a clue as to what happened.”

 

“Were they close?  Chuck and Meredith?”

 

She picked at the lettuce with her fork.  “Yeah.  But he was good with all of the girls.  He’s this giant, good-looking guy who can play.  He’s like a god to them.  They immediately gravitated toward him.”  She set her elbows on the table and jabbed at the air with the fork.  “And he could coach.  Didn’t matter the position.  He knew how to teach.”

 

It again surprised me to hear that about him.  I never saw him as a mentor.  It made me want to see him doing that in action.  And somewhere in those thoughts, I felt a twinge of guilt because maybe I had missed some change in Chuck’s life.

 

“And Meredith’s one of those kids who never wants to quit playing,” Kelly continued.  “Always wants to shoot after practice, always wants to work out a little more.  From day one, Winslow was willing to stick around and work with her.  I stuck around, too, at first, to make sure things were cool.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“An older male in a gym with teenage girls,” she said, as if it was a no-brainer.  “A guy I didn’t really know.  I needed to be comfortable with that.  After I watched him for a week or so, I was.  No problem at all with it.”  She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, thinking.  “But they were spending a lot of time together.

 

My conversation with Jon Jordan flashed back through my head.  “Stricker told me that he OK'd Chuck’s hiring after Jordan recommended him.  Did Jordan know him?

 

“No.  He did that as a favor,” she explained.  “It kind of went roundabout.  A friend of mine recommended Winslow to me.  After I met him, I wanted him, but it’s hard to get someone who doesn’t teach here on the coaching staff.  They like everyone to be on campus full-time.  I knew I needed an extra push. So I went back to my friend and asked her to get Jordan to make a phone call.”

 

“Your friend knew both Chuck and Jordan?

 

“Yeah.  She actually works for Jordan.  Not sure how she and Chuck met.”

 

“Can I ask her name?”

 

Kelly took a drink and set the glass on the table.  “She’s Jon Jordan’s bodyguard.  Gina Coleman.”

 

EIGHTEEN

 

 

 

 

 

Gina intimated knowing Chuck when she’d laid me out in Jon Jordan’s driveway, but she hadn’t explained.  I was officially confused.

 

“Gina and I have been friends for a long time,” Kelly explained.  “She said she knew this guy, that he knew basketball and that he might be able to help.  She knew I was looking for a volunteer assistant.” 

 

“Any idea how they knew each other?” I said, thoroughly mystified at what I was hearing.

 

“Isn’t Winslow your buddy?”A confused grin spread across her face.

 

“Yes.” I didn't offer anything else.

 

She waited, then shrugged.  “Gina said they went to school together.  A long time ago.”

 

It would have been before high school, I thought.  I’d met him freshman year.

 

None of that was making sense so I switched gears.

 

“How long have you known Gina?” I asked.

 

“Since high school, up in Orange County,” she said.  “We played ball together.  We both came down here for college and stuck around.”

 

“What did she do before she worked for Jordan?”

 

Kelly pressed her lips together and shook her head.  “I’ll talk about Winslow.  I’m not going to talk about Gina.  She’s a friend and you can ask her yourself.”

 

I nodded.  “Okay.  Bottom line.  You’ve spent time with both Chuck and Meredith.  Who do you believe?”

 

“I told you.  I don’t know.”

 

“Make a choice.  Go with your gut.  Who’s telling the truth?”

 

Kelly shifted in the booth, like she was trying to get comfortable and couldn’t find the right spot.  “If I have to choose, I choose Meredith.”

 

My stomach sank.  “Why?”

 

She thought about that for a long moment before she answered.  “I’m not sure.  Chuck looked me in the eye and denied it.  Didn’t get outraged, didn’t throw a tantrum, no dramatics.  Just looked me in the eye and said he didn’t do anything to Meredith.  It seemed genuine.”  She looked away for a moment, her eyes searching the diner.  She brought them back to me.  “But there was something in Meredith.  Hurt, pain, I don’t know.  I don’t think she was lying.”

 

It wasn’t what I wanted to hear, but it forced me to start thinking about everything from a different perspective.  I could keep saying that Chuck wasn’t capable of doing the things he was being accused of, but if I was going to figure out what happened, I was going to have to admit to at least one thing. These people had been around Chuck a lot more than I had in the previous few years.  And I needed to start listening to what they were saying.

 

“I know why Chuck would lie,” I said, the words feeling funny as they came off my tongue.  “No one would want to admit doing that.  But why would Meredith lie?”

BOOK: Thread of Hope (The Joe Tyler Series, #1)
5.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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