Certainly, Jeremy would never have thought he’d see Tug in such a position. He hadn’t seen Coach Tug Davis since his senior year at Bellingsworth. Back then, the two men had been as close as two fleas on a dog’s ear. In fact, Tug had gotten Jeremy his shot with the Wildcats, a deal that had paid off big-time. Tug and Jeremy had shared a bond that was legendary at Bellingsworth. No kid could have asked for a better offensive coach, and Tug swore no coach could have asked for a better protégé than Jeremy Crockett. The gratitude Jeremy had always felt for Tug was endless.
“Where have you been?” Jeremy asked his mentor. “I heard you left Bellingsworth after that first losing year. That had to be eight, nine years ago. Rumors were you tried to get a position in the Midwest, but I never knew where you went.” Jeremy suddenly felt guilty. He should have kept track of Tug. He’d meant to, but life... Well, no excuses. “Did you keep coaching?”
“Nah. Truthfully, I had a bit of trouble finding something. But it was probably time to move on.” Tug chuckled. “Getting gray and getting old. Not a good combination.”
“So now you’re a big deal here in Charleston. Incredible.”
Putting his hand on Jeremy’s arm, Tug led him to the pair of chairs set up for the interview. “Not so strange, really. I’ve always gotten along with people, always wanted them to do their best and been willing to help. Look at you and me...”
Jeremy sat in the chair Nate had picked out for him. “You and I are a special case, that’s for sure. But politics? How did that happen?”
Tug briefly explained how he moved to Charleston six years before and got involved in local politics. “My wife wanted to live here to be near her sister, so here we are. Got a nice house in the historic district. I ran for a few local offices and finally hit the big time when this mayor got elected.” Tug sat back in his chair and sighed. “You’re looking at a happy man, a lucky man, Jeremy. Now tell me about you. Why did you quit the pros?”
Jeremy summarized the last two years of his life as quickly as he could. “After Lynette died, I had to raise my kids. Got them both living with me now and a house in Hidden Oaks. And hopefully a career in broadcasting.”
“Woo-hoo, Hidden Oaks,” Tug said.
“It’s nice there.” Mentioning his career brought Jeremy’s focus back where it should be—on the upcoming interview. He looked across the room where Brooke was watching, waiting. She motioned in a get-on-with-it gesture. Since Jeremy figured she hadn’t heard anything of his conversation with Tug, she couldn’t know what a momentous occasion this was.
“That’s my news producer over there,” Jeremy said. “I think she wants us to get started.”
“All right then. Let’s talk,” Tug agreed. “Imagine you as a TV personality, though I’m not surprised. I always figured you’d succeed at whatever you tried in life.”
“That makes one of us,” Jeremy said. “Truth is, when I met you, I was wild and undisciplined. I didn’t have much hope in succeeding at anything.”
Jeremy took out his notes, though he didn’t think he’d need them now. This was Tug. Good ol’ Tug. One of the best men Jeremy had ever known. If anyone would be honest in politics, it was “Tug” Davis. There probably wouldn’t even be a story here. He smiled to himself. He’d never known Tug’s real name was Kirby. Jeremy relaxed. He’d ask a few leading questions, anyway, and get Tug on the air. Might help the guy’s chances to be elected mayor someday. It was the least he could do for his former mentor.
The interview went as expected for the first ten minutes. Tug talked about his rise to his current position, his plans for the city, specifically the refurbishing of old bridges across the Yaloosee River. “Some of those bridges are approaching sixty years old,” he said. “We’ve got contractors lined up to begin work on them. Gonna use cement to look like the old limestone compounds they used two hundred years ago. I don’t want to spare any expense to beautify this city and keep it historically accurate.”
For the first time since sitting down with Tug, Jeremy experienced a moment of unease. Tug’s plans for the city were lofty, extravagant even. “I’m surprised there’s enough money in the budget to accomplish all these projects,” he finally said.
Tug gave him a conspiratorial kind of smile. “Always a means to find money, son. Just gotta look in the right places.”
Jeremy glanced at Brooke, who’d moved close enough to hear the interview. She gave him a wide-eyed go-ahead look as if to say this was his chance to get to the meaty questions about budgets and bids and accountability. Jeremy tucked his notes into his jacket pocket and folded his hands on his lap. If only to convince himself that Tug was an honest man, a good man, he had to at least ask him some hardball questions. But they wouldn’t come from his prepared notes. They would come from his heart. He asked the cameraman to pause shooting.
“Tug,” he began, “I’ve got to tell you something.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“There are rumors going around about your office.”
“What kind of rumors?”
Jeremy tried to phrase his concern without an accusatory tone. “The usual ones, Tug. Contractors, city projects, special favors. You know the kind of thing I’m talking about. That’s why I’m here today. The evidence we dug up is pretty sound, and my job was to get you to slip up and admit to possible wrongdoing. Of course, now that I’m sitting face-to-face with you, I don’t want to believe any of it.”
“Are you calling me a crook, Jeremy? Are you saying I’m playing with the city’s money?”
“No, that’s a little harsh.”
“And it’s all nonsense. I’ve got accountants breathing down my back. I work in a building full of lawyers. I couldn’t get away with anything—”
“I’m not accusing Tug Davis of being a crook,” Jeremy said. “I’ve only been in this town a little over a year. I studied the hierarchy of Charleston politics, but no way did I ever imagine you would be part of it. I guess, when it comes right down to it, I’m asking if the CFO, this new guy I’m just meeting, could be liable in any wrongdoing.”
Tug’s cheeks reddened. He turned to Nate. “Don’t turn that camera back on,” he said. “Interview’s over.”
And all at once, Jeremy knew. His old friend, the man he’d most admired in his life, the man he’d trusted, was hiding something and it was big. Jeremy looked at Nate, who had a puzzled look on his face. “Do as he says,” Jeremy said softly.
Brooke came closer. “Why did we stop?”
Jeremy held up a hand. Turning back to Tug, he said, “You can tell me what’s going on or you can send me away with no story. It’s up to you. But someone else will follow in my footsteps and ask the questions I didn’t ask you today. You can’t avoid interviews forever, Tug.”
“You should go now, Jeremy,” Tug said without looking in Jeremy’s eyes.
Jeremy nodded. “I’d like to help you, Tug. If you’ve got yourself in some kind of trouble...”
“We’ve got nothing more to say to each other,” Tug responded. “Let’s leave our memories of each other where they belong. In the past.”
“Okay.” Jeremy started to walk away. Before he reached the door, Tug came up behind him and grabbed his arm.
“Follow me over here,” Tug said, indicating a quiet corner of the room.
Jeremy followed him. Brooke and Nate kept their distance.
“Let’s talk,” Tug said, “Just like the old days. Back then we could tell each other anything.”
“That’s true. I’m listening.”
“Things got tough for me after Bellingsworth,” Tug said. “I wasn’t exactly fired but I resigned under pressure. I couldn’t find a job in football. My wife had some medical problems, and I didn’t have insurance. Wiped out all our savings.”
Excuses before the admission. Jeremy didn’t like the sound of this. “Go on.”
“Tur
ns out I was a natural at politics. Had just enough notoriety to make my coaching career work for me. The ladder to this office wasn’t hard to climb. But I was still in the hole financially. Costs a lot to get the attention of the right people.”
“I’m sure it does,” Jeremy said. “So you never recovered? And you’re in trouble now?”
“Don’t judge me, Jeremy. My wife and kids and I went through a couple of lean years...”
Like most people, Jeremy thought. Like I did from birth to the age of eighteen.
“When I was appointed CFO, my wife had her heart set on this fine old house near the Battery. Then my daughter got engaged and wanted a big wedding. I started calling in favors. It’s not hard to get people to cooperate when you’re in a position of power.”
“So this is all about trade-offs, bartering?” If so, maybe Tug wasn’t all that dishonest. Jeremy supposed a lot of local big shots had similar dealings. You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours. Wasn’t right, but possibly this story could have a satisfactory ending.
“At first, yeah,” Tug said. “But I needed cash. Judith wanted to renovate the house. She joined some clubs in town, and our social obligations increased. And that dang wedding.” Tug shook his head. “Whew! And already there’s talk of trouble in my kid’s marriage.” He chuckled. “Be careful what you spend your money on, son.”
“How much have you taken?” Jeremy asked.
“It’s not bad. And I’m going to pay back every cent. I swear. Once I’m over this rough patch...”
Jeremy rubbed the back of his neck. This was the man he owed his life to, and he was no different from every legendary crook in local politics through the years. Skim off the top, swear you’ll pay it back and hope you don’t get caught.
“I know you’re disappointed in me, Jeremy,” Tug said. “I can see it in your eyes. It breaks my heart to see it. It all happened so fast. A little here, a little there. But I’m going to make it right.”
Jeremy exhaled. “Before the story breaks, Tug? Are you going to make it right before this is on the five o’clock news?”
Tug wrapped Jeremy’s arm in a strong grip. “You can’t do this story, Jeremy. Everything I’ve told you is off the record. No cameras. For everything we meant to each other...”
Jeremy wrenched his arm free. He looked at Brooke, whose expression was one of impatience, curiosity and even dread. She had no idea what he and Tug had been talking about. But she wasn’t happy.
“I’m glad it was you who came today,” Tug said. “You believe me, don’t you? I’m going to pay back every dime. Just don’t run this story, son. It’ll be the end of me. I’ll never be able to hold my head up in this town again.”
Tug’s eyes were desperate. They filled with tears. He swallowed hard, then said, “Please, Jeremy, for old time’s sake.”
“You’re just borrowing time,” Jeremy said. “The story will come out. If not by me, then someone else.”
“I’ll figure something out by then,” Tug said. “Time is what I need. Don’t betray me, son. Not after all we went through together. When I met you, you barely had a clean change of clothes. Remember?”
Jeremy’s mind flashed back to those awful weeks after he graduated high school. He was wild, drinking, driving “borrowed” fast cars, dodging responsibility, looking for his next thrill every day. And then this guy, Tug Davis from U of Bellingsworth, showed up at his house, a plain-spoken, simple man who painted a dream for Jeremy right in his mother’s two-room flat. Tug offered him a chance, a future, a college education and a stepping stone to pro ball.
And Jeremy knew he couldn’t be the one to bring him down now. “I’ve got to go,” he said. “I won’t run the story, but that doesn’t mean someone else won’t.”
“I know.” Tug grasped both of Jeremy’s shoulders. “Thank you, son. I’ll figure it out.”
Jeremy turned away from his mentor and strode across the room. When he met up with Brooke, she tried to stop him. “What’s happening?” she said. “What went wrong?”
“There’s not going to be any interview,” he said. “We’re going.” Without pausing, he left the room, with all its flattering lights and mural of a beautiful town on the wall. All fake, just like the man he’d spent the last hour with.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“JEREMY, WOULD YOU please stop!” Her heels clicked on the laminate floor of the office building, sounding loud to her ears, but apparently not affecting Jeremy.
He kept walking—down the corridor and out the front door of city hall—before he finally stopped for a breath. Brooke reached him and took his arm. “What happened?” she asked again.
He turned around, locked his gaze with hers. His lips were thin, his eyes narrowed. He was breathing heavily. Something had gone horribly wrong, and Brooke didn’t like being in the dark.
He stared down at her hand on his arm. She wasn’t about to let go of him. “Jeremy, what’s going on? You have to tell me.”
“This wasn’t the story for me,” he said at last.
“What are you talking about? We prepared. We had all your questions ready. For the most part, this interview would have been a piece of cake.” He didn’t speak. She didn’t avert her gaze from his face.
Nate came up behind them, his equipment in his portable bag. “I’ll meet you at the car,” he said.
“Yes, we’ll be at the car soon,” she told him. Then she turned to face Jeremy. “Why did you do that? It looked to me like everything was going well. When they say to turn off the camera, you know you’ve struck gold, and that’s just what Davis did. You should have kept filming.”
“Do you have any idea who Kirby Davis is...or was?” He smirked. “No, of course you don’t.”
She ignored his biting comment. “He’s the chief financial officer of Charleston, the man who was going to cement your relationship with Milt if you had done a halfway decent job today. But I saw him hug you. So I’m assuming he’s someone from your past. At least someone you know.”
“Oh, I know him all right. The man who is now CFO was the offensive coach at Bellingsworth when I went there. He recruited me from high school, convinced me that I could succeed in college ball. He was my mentor for four years, Brooke. So yeah, I know him. And I owe him, for bringing me up from the miserable life I was living, for making me believe I could be something, for straightening me out when I really needed it.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” Brooke said, although she was beginning to follow Jeremy’s explanation as a sort of idol worship. “Isn’t it his job to recruit talented players? Wasn’t he just doing what he was paid for? You’re the one who starred on the football field.”
“Don’t you get it?” Jeremy said. “I wouldn’t even have been on a football field without Tug.”
“Tug was his nickname?”
“That’s what we all called him. Even the newspapers.”
“Well, so what? His influence on you doesn’t have anything to do with who he is today, which is very likely a crooked politician.” Jeremy jerked away from her, stared into the distance. She guessed she’d crossed a sacred line of his.
“You’re wrong,” he said. “It has everything to do with who I am today.” Jeremy drew in a long breath, finally turned and looked at her. “Someday I’ll give you the details of where I came from, who Jeremy Crockett really is. But for now just understand that I felt I was lucky just to have a bed to sleep in. My mother and I moved nearly every time the rent was due. Sometimes we slept in our car.”
“I’m sorry,” Brooke said. “But, Jeremy, that’s all in the past. It’s not who you are now.”
“Oh, yeah, well when I meet up with someone who changed my life as much as Tug did, I’m reminded of that kid from rural North Carolina who can’t ever forget the people who took him out of that life and forced him to make something of himself.”
“But y
ou were the one with the talent,” Brooke said. “If Tug hadn’t noticed you, someone else would have.”
“You don’t get it, Brooke,” he said. “You don’t know how football coaches and recruiters work. In four years I went to four high schools. Each time I played football, but I was never in one school long enough to get noticed. Except Tug noticed me, one of the few college coaches who did. And he talked me into going to Bellingsworth. Got me the money, a place to live, my meals, everything. I’d still be back in Lockhaven, North Carolina, mowing lawns if it weren’t for Tug.”
“Okay, so you owed him a debt. I get that,” Brooke said. “But what happened today has nothing to do with football. More than ten years have passed since you graduated from Bellingsworth. You went on to become this big star, and I would think that’s enough payback for any coach. How many coaches can strut around saying they mentored the great Jeremy Crockett?”
“Stop it, Brooke. You don’t get how important this is to me.”
She backed away. Something in his eyes told her that she was completely excluded from this part of Jeremy’s life and the decision he’d just made that might ruin his career at WJQC. His past, his college years, his obligation to a man who had taken a dark path in the last ten years. No, she didn’t get it. “What did you talk about after the interview? Did Davis admit to anything?” she asked him.
Jeremy looked away. His face flushed, and Brooke knew she’d hit on the truth.
“It doesn’t matter because we talked off the record, and I’m not doing the story.”
“Of course it matters. The man is cheating the citizens of Charleston, the people you are going to be reporting to every night of your life. The people you expect to trust you and your words.”
He didn’t speak so she tried another approach. “You do realize that Milt is going to be furious?”
Jeremy nodded, his anger seeming to subside at the very real consequences of his actions. “I’ll talk to Milt.”
A Man of Honor Page 15
