by Jim Riley
"And now you believe me?"
"I do, but they've done a helluva job setting you up. You couldn't have done a much better job even if you tried."
"What now?"
"We find out why somebody wants you out of your job. Wants you out bad."
Daily rubbed both hands on his thigh. "I know of no one that hates me that much."
"Let's start with the basics. Who will replace you? Who will become the head coach?"
Bailey thought for a second. "It's up to the principal and the school board. The principal will make a recommendation, and the board will either approve it or reject it."
"Who is he likely to recommend?"
"Jimbo Wax. He’s the assistant head coach, so it would be a natural promotion for him."
"Anyone else?" Niki asked.
"He's the logical choice. The others would probably move up. Somebody would have to replace Jimbo, and then that creates another opening."
She nodded.
"So, almost everyone on the coaching staff would get a promotion. How about the freshman coach, Ricky Delrie? How would he fit in?"
Billy's face clouded. "I made a mistake with Ricky. I should have moved him to the varsity, but I didn't know enough about him. But he's good. I should have seen it earlier."
"So he has something to gain if you're convicted?"
Billy gave a slight nod. "He will almost definitely move up to the varsity. I have no doubt about that."
"Who else?" Niki asked.
"That pretty well covers the coaches. Like I told you before, Steve King's dad is fit to be tied. Carl envisioned Steve playing for LSU or some other D1 program next year and now he can't win the starting job in high school."
"Jimbo also mentioned others." Niki checked her notes. "Jimmy Nicklaus was hurt in some sort of drill at practice, and Richard Wild's dad had a confrontation with you."
Billy chuckled. "LJ, that is Richard’s dad. He was all hot and bothered because I cut Richard from the team. He was drinking one day and had a little too much."
"Did you hit him?"
"Yes, but only after he took a few swings at me. Luckily, LJ isn't any better athlete than his son."
Niki imagined the scene.
"So you busted him in the head and knocked him down? Am I close?"
Billy chuckled a little more. "That's pretty much it. Wasn't really much to it. He has never said anything else about it to me. I just figured he forgot about it."
"Would you? Would you forget getting knocked on your keister in front of your son and all his friends? Tell me you would forget it."
Billy was no longer chuckling. "That's not fair. There's a big difference between me and LJ Wild."
"And what is that?" Niki asked.
"I—I'm a man."
Niki scoffed. "And what is LJ Wild? Is he a woman dressed up like a man? Is that why you enjoyed hitting him so much?"
Billy grimaced. "You're twisting my words. That's not what I meant. He's not a—"
"Real man like you? Is that what you meant? One who takes pictures of himself with little girls?"
Billy stammered, trying to make a comeback. He slammed the recliner back to a sitting position and jumped out of it. He closed the distance between them, his fists clenched.
The coach stood glowering at the strawberry blonde for several seconds. Then his hands relaxed, and he returned to the recliner.
"Sorry. I’ve never hit a female."
"Don't worry about it. You weren't going to hit me either, but I'm glad I didn't have to prove it to you. I've never had a client before."
"All right, tell me about Carl King."
"He's a big donor to our athletic program. He figures that should buy him some favors. When I benched his son, he vowed to pay me back."
"Did he ever threaten you physically?"
"Nope. That's not his style," Billy replied.
"What is his style? What would he do?"
"Find a reason to sue me. Talk to the principal or the school board. More administrative stuff than physical stuff."
Niki kept looking at Billy until he became uncomfortable.
"What?" He asked.
"Don't you realize what you just said? You told me Carl King is just the sort of person to set all this up."
Billy wiped his forehead.
"I don't get it. Flavia and LaDonne are the ones that have to be lying. How does Carl fit in?"
"You said, or somebody did, that Steve King is Flavia's boyfriend. I'll have to look at my notes to remember who said it."
"You don't have to look. Steve and Flavia have been dating for a while."
"I ran into Steve King outside your office. He was not real pleased with you."
"That's an understatement. Kinda like not being pleased with a rattlesnake after he bites you."
"Does Carl King, Steve's dad, have the kind of wherewithal to put something like this together?"
Billy nodded. "I see where it could happen. He could talk to Steve. Then Steve could talk to Flavia. Then Flavia could talk to LaDonne. I see where it might have happened like that."
"Is Carl a photographer?"
Billy considered the question for a few seconds. "I don't know. Why do you ask?"
"Because, if you are innocent, then someone went to a lot of trouble to fabricate those photographs showing you with the girls. Those are a good bit more sophisticated than kids playing with Photoshop or a program like that."
"How do we prove it?" Billy asked.
"We have to find the weak think. I need to visit Carl King."
Niki's automobile alarm blared from the driveway. Without saying anything, she raced to the front door. A pickup truck disappeared around the corner at the first cross street. She turned her attention to the Ford Explorer. All four tires were flat, having been slashed with a knife. Across the windshield were the words, stop or die.
"What is it?" Billy arrived around at the door, peeking over Niki’s shoulder.
"Somebody wanted to send me a message. They just delivered it."
24
Amber Lakes subdivision
Niki fumed while driving to Amber Lakes subdivision in Central. The new community was built just a stone's throw from the high school. The upscale homes were recently erected and most backed up to the man-made lakes formed when the contractor use the dirt to raise the building lots.
Carl King onto one of the higher valued homes in the exclusive neighborhood. Most of the homes consisted of fifteen hundred square feet to two thousand and sat on half-acre lots.
King's house, or more aptly estate, more than doubled the others and occupied over three acres. The Tudor mansion sat a few hundred feet off the street in the back corner of the development. The other homes shared the lakes with their neighbors, but Carl King had a private lake in his backyard.
A triple garage rested to one side with an enclosed walkway connecting it to the house. Niki could not see inside to find out if any cars were parked.
When she rang the doorbell, she half expected she would not get an answer. Thus, the investigator was pleasantly surprised when the door swung open. A neat lady in her early forties looked at her with a curious expression.
"May I help you?" The slim lady with jet black hair asked.
"I'm Niki Dupre. I have a few questions I need to ask Carl. Is he in?"
"What kind of questions?" The lady did not invite her in.
"I'm working on the case for Coach Bailey at the high school. I think Mr. King may be able to fill in some blanks if I can get a minute with him."
"He's not in." The lady shoved the door a little shut.
"Are you Mrs. King?" Niki stepped forward into the opening.
"I don't see where that is any of your business, young lady. Now, if you will excuse me—"
"Please. It's important. A man's life is at stake. Just a couple of questions."
The lady stalled, her eyes somewhat blank. She, from Niki's perspective, seemed torn between letting the private investigator in an
d closing the door.
"Please," Niki begged. "Three questions. No more."
The lady opened the door. "I'm Carla King. Please come in."
Carla walked stiffly to a large sitting room with a raised ceiling. Brown wooden beams crossed the area, giving it an outdoor feeling. Most of the art was photographs of exotic animals; elephants, tigers, lions, leopards, giraffes, bison, water buffalo, zebras, wildebeests. Most, except for the bison, could be found in Africa.
"Did y'all go on a safari?" Niki asked.
"Yes. You have two more questions," Carla King answered without expression.
"Did your husband take those photographs?" Niki pointed at the ones near them.
Carla turned slightly red. "No."
Niki had expected to get a lot more information from Carl King's wife. She carefully considered her last question, phrasing it to get a more expansive answer.
"Tell me about the problems between your husband and Coach Bailey."
"That's not a question?" Carla stated.
"Consider it asked in question form. What would you say?"
"I’d say it's none of your business. Now that you've asked your three questions, I need to get back to my business. I will tell Carl he missed you."
"Will you ask him to call me?" Niki held out a business card.
"That's an extra question," Carla did not accept the card.
"I'll put it here," Niki said as she walked over to an end table. "Just in case you get a chance to mention I dropped by."
While placing her card on the table, the private investigator glanced up at the nearest photograph. It was a magnificent image of a charging zebra stallion, it's mouth flared open and its ears flattened along the striped neck. Then her gaze fell to the autograph at the bottom.
C. King. And the date the photograph was taken.
Carla King had lied. Carl took those pictures that ordained the wall. They were of professional quality. Mrs. King knew a lot more than she had told Niki.
25
Central High School
Niki's new four tires purred along this short stretch between the subdivision and the high school. When she pulled into the athletic department parking lot, she saw several students in a cluster. Each of them stared at her vehicle.
Among the students were Flavia Foster and LaDonne Elgin. When they saw Niki looking at them, both girls hurried to the nearest class building, disappearing behind double doors.
The slim detective entered the gym to find Jimbo Wax and Ricky Delrie in a heated discussion. They were so involved in the intense conversation neither man noticed Niki until she was right next to them.
Ricky turned to her and flushed.
"What do you want? You ain't welcome around here. Did you get the message?"
"What message would that be?" Niki feigned ignorance.
"I know you received the message this morning. You must not be too bright. Next time, they may make it more obvious so you will understand it."
She walked within two feet of the football coach. "Next time, why don't you send it yourself instead of using a bunch of innocent kids and possibly ruining their futures."
"I might just do that. Except I won't to be as nice as they were."
"Good. I would love to give you a personal reply, one that you won’t have any trouble comprehending."
Niki turned from Ricky to Jimbo.
"Maybe we talk in your office?" She asked.
"I'm fine right here. Unlike Billy, I don't have any secrets to hide from the other coaches." He remained standing by Ricky.
"But I do. Unless you want to ruin every chance you will ever have of becoming a head coach, I'd suggest we talk in your office.."
The stern tone of the statement caught both men's attention. Delrie promptly walked away and yelled at some kids in gym shorts.
"Morning," Wax said, his posture tense as he walked toward his office before getting a reply.
Niki followed him into the small room and shut the door. She stood on the other side of the desk rather than taking a seat.
"You'd better quit prodding these kids unless you want one of them to get hurt," the investigator blurted.
"Wait. Wait just one minute. How can you come in here and accuse me of talking any of the students into vandalizing your vehicle?" He glared at Niki and rose from his chair.
"How did you know they vandalized my vehicle? It only happened a couple of hours ago and you supposedly have been in school all day. I said nothing about my Explorer getting vandalized."
"I—I must've heard the kids talking about it when they got back." The hesitancy of his words and the deep red color along the lines of his face told Niki the assistant head coach was not telling the truth.
"Jimbo, we both know you're lying. Now, I have two choices. I can go to the school board and let them know you are contributing to the delinquency of minors. Or—"
The assistant coach was beaten, and he knew it.
"Or what?" He sat back down in his chair.
"You can quit fighting me on this and cooperate. If not, you will get the students seriously hurt, if not killed. Do you really want that on your conscience?" Before saying the last sentence, Niki leaned over, placing her hands on his desk.
"It wasn't meant to be serious. A few of the kids wanted to leave you a message on your windshield. I didn't see any harm in that."
Niki leaned further over the desk. "You're leaving out the part where they slashed all four tires. Don't you think that is harm, or is it just more innocent kids sending me a message?"
Jimbo leaned back in his chair, putting as much distance between himself and the angry private investigator as he could.
"I didn't tell them to do that. I didn't know about it until they got back. I'll pay for your tires. I didn't mean for that to happen."
"R–I–G–H–T. Next time, send me a letter. That way, you won't be putting any of those kids in danger."
"Did you recognize them?" He asked.
"Nope. Didn't even get a good look at the vehicle they were driving."
Niki received a confused look.
"Then how did you know it was kids?"
She smiled. "I didn't until you just confessed. I knew somebody put them up to it, and it was the sort of thing kids would do. I figured I'd start with you and work my way down the list. Now, I don't have to."
She turned and walked out of the coach's office, leaving him with an open mouth and wide eyes.
26
Central High School
"I don't like her being here," LaDonne said, while watching Niki enter the gym.
Flavia responded. "Relax. She knows nothing or she would be over here talking to us instead of the coaches."
LaDonne let the slat in the blind drop. "But you should've been there this morning. She asked me all sorts of questions. I didn't know how to answer a lot of them."
Flavia put her hand on her friend’s shoulder. "Of course you didn’t. You’re in a state of shock. You're traumatized by being molested by someone you trusted. Someone you thought of as a father figure. That would confuse anyone."
"But you weren't there. You don't know how bad it was."
Flavia stayed calm. "She came by my house last night. There is no way she didn't believe me. When she got into things I didn't want to talk about, I cried and ran out. Then she had to deal with my dad."
"What if she wants to talk to me again?" LaDonne picked the slat back up, peering at the gym.
"Just cry and run out. Nobody can blame you for not wanting to talk about what happened to us. Remember, we’re the victims in this thing. Coach Bailey is the one who has to worry."
LaDonne turned and hugged her friend.
"I guess you're right. But I don't know how long I can keep doing this. I didn't know it would be this hard."
Flavia pushed her back at arm’s length.
"Look, girl. We're in this together. I can't afford for you to get weak now. We'll both be in a boatload of trouble if you do."
"I'm just scared," LaDonne cried, tears running down both cheeks. “I didn't want anyone to get into trouble, including Coach Bailey.”
"Me, either," Flavia replied. "But it's too late for that now. He's in a lot of trouble, and unless you want us to be in just as much, you had better keep your mouth shut."
"I know. But it's gonna be hard."
Flavia watched her friend walk out of the empty classroom. She picked up a slat and saw Niki walk out of the gym and glance in her direction.
The cheerleader hit a speed dial button on her cell. When the other party answered, she glanced around the room to make sure she was still alone.
"We may have a problem," she whispered.
27
Wildcat Investigations
"Any luck?" Donna asked as Niki entered the office.
"Some," the strawberry blonde answered. "At least, I now have four new tires courtesy of Jimbo."
"Huh?" Donna stopped what she was doing.
"It's a long story. I'll tell you about it when we’re all three together. I don't want to have to repeat it to Drexel. How about you?"
"I think so," Donna answered.
"What do you mean? That was as noncommittal as you can be if you ask me."
Donna let out a breath. "It's more of what I didn't find than what I found. But it is good news."
Niki plopped down in her chair, her mind exhausted from the day's interactions.
"I speak three languages; English, French, and Spanish. But your talking in one I'm having trouble interpreting. Can you tell me in one of those three what is so good about not finding anything?"
"Si, Señorita," Donna laughed, and even got a small chuckle from Niki.
Then she continued. "I got access to Huddle. You know, the outfit that films all the games. I logged onto the website and downloaded the game from last Friday night against Zachary."
"Yeah, we won. That's good, but I don't see how it helps us."
