by Gregg Stutts
The timing was perfect. Max didn’t even have to sit down. He stood next to Donnie Black who glowered at him. “Coach, I’ve got a question,” Max said.
It had been over a year since Max had spoken to Coach Patterson, so Max was encouraged when Coach smiled and said, “Max, great to see you.”
Max quickly surveyed the room. In addition to Donnie Black and Terry Cook, he saw Bill Jackson, at least one member of the board of education and three members of the local media. A local television station out of Fayetteville was also there. All the key players were in the room. Now it was time for Max to kick-off. He hoped Michelle and Ms. Jones would make it before someone said the game was over.
Max cleared his throat and said, “Coach Patterson, talk to us for a moment about the recruiting battle. How tough is it to get the best players to come to Northern Arkansas State?”
“I’m not gonna lie to ya, it’s tough,” Joe said. “We’re always battling with the school down in Fayetteville for the best athletes in the state. Some of them want to play in the SEC. That’s tough to compete with, but we’re doing our best to attract young men who want to live right, get a good education and enjoy some of the best facilities anywhere in the country thanks to our Pioneer’s foundation. Donnie, why don’t you stand up? Folks, give Donnie and his team a round of applause.”
After the applause died down, Donnie took his seat again. Then Max said, “Coach, you mentioned wanting to attract players who want to live right. By that I assume you mean young men who follow the rules, make good choices, that sort of thing.”
“Absolutely,” Coach Patterson said. “Our young men know it’s a privilege to wear a Pioneer’s uniform and they represent the program both on the field and off.”
“And having played for you, I know that philosophy permeated your entire program,” Max said.
“That’s my goal,” Coach Patterson said.
“Well, coach, since you’ve already recognized him for his great work, let me ask Donnie to stand up for a moment,” Max said. Donnie stayed in his seat and never moved. Never blinked. Max could almost see the heat rising off him. “Come on Donnie, don’t by shy. Stand up.” Max grabbed Donnie’s arm and pulled him to his feet.
Donnie Black was a powerful man. He raised millions of dollars each year for the university football program. Without him, the program would be nothing. Donnie knew it and so did almost everyone in the room. What Jack Murphy was to Lakeside, Donnie was to Northern Arkansas State.
So what Max was about to do was would either save him and take down Donnie or the other way around. “Donnie, do you know who Dante Jones is?” Max asked.
Donnie’s eyes seemed to burn right through Max. “The name is familiar,” Donnie said.
Max turned his attention back to the stage, “Coach, are you familiar with Dante?”
Coach Patterson stroked his chin and stared at the ceiling for a moment. “I’m sorry, Max, I don’t know that I am.”
“That’s okay, coach,” Max said. “Donnie is familiar with him.” Max looked hard at Donnie. “Aren’t you?”
“I said I was familiar with him,” Donnie said. “Now can we please get back to the program?”
Max ignored Donnie’s question. “Donnie, did you have any involvement with Jack Murphy, the president of the Lakeside football booster club?” Max asked.
“Everyone, listen, I want to apologize for this interruption in today’s program. I know you didn’t come here today to hear me talk,” Donnie said and gave a slight nod to Terry Cook, the police chief, who stood up and headed toward Max.
Max stepped onto the stage and stood next to Coach Patterson. “Coach, I played for you fifteen years ago and have always known you to be a man of integrity, so I’m sorry to inform you that you’ve got some things going on around the program that don’t line up with your values.”
Coach Patterson said nothing, but looked at Max, giving him the opportunity to continue.
“Coach, I think you’ll want to hear what Donnie has to say,” Max said. “Tell us Donnie, did you have any type of involvement with Jack Murphy?”
“We were friends,” Donnie said. “Just like a lot of people in this room.”
Max had already passed the point of no return, so he continued. “Just friends. Nothing else?”
“Nothing else,” Donnie said.
“So are you saying you had no knowledge of Jack Murphy recruiting Dante Jones out of the state of Alabama after his sophomore season, bringing him to Lakeside, providing his family with a home and his mother with a job, with the understanding he would play football for the Pioneers?”
“No knowledge at all,” Donnie said. “But it sounds like something you would have had knowledge of, Max, as the head coach.”
“So you’re telling us you had no knowledge of that arrangement?” Max said. “And you don’t know anything about Dante’s car accident?”
“No, I don’t,” Donnie said. “And you better be careful, Max. You’re treading on thin ice now. Those are some libelous claims you’re starting to make.”
“Slanderous,” Max said.
“What?” Donnie said.
“The word your looking for is slanderous,” Max said. “If I was making untrue statements in writing, it would be libel. My statements are spoken, so if I’m wrong then I’m guilty of slander, not libel.” Max and Donnie stared at each other. “I’m not wrong though, am I, Donnie?”
Like a lot of people, Max could see Donnie wanted to hit him. Max whispered to him, “Wanna take a swing at me, don’t ya? Don’t do it. That’s called battery.”
Terry Cook, the chief of police, stood up and said, “Max, I don’t know where you think you’re headed with all this, but that boy’s car accident was just that, an accident.”
“And that’s your official opinion, Terry?” Max said.
“It’s not my opinion,” Terry said. “It’s a fact.”
“Mechanical failure, if I remember right,” Max said.
“Brakes failed coming around that turn,” Terry said. “Boy ran straight into a tree.”
“So the skid marks on the street and the rear end damage to his car weren’t a consideration in the investigation?” Max said.
“I’m not sure where you’re getting your information, Max, but you’re wrong,” Terry said, “There were no skid marks and no damage to the rear bumper.”
“You’re sure about that?” Max said. “That’s your official position?”
Terry’s eyes shifted to Donnie Black for an instant as if to say, “Would you end this now?”
Max took his phone out and said, “Coach Patterson, would you tell me what you see in this picture?”
The coach put his glasses on, took Max’s phone and studied the image. “It looks like a car wreck.”
“Are there skid marks on the street?” Max said.
“Clearly,” Coach Patterson said.
“And would you say the rear bumper of that car is damaged?” Max said. “Possibly by another car running into the back of it?”
“I don’t know about that,” Coach Patterson said. “But I guess it’s possible.”
A writer for the local paper said, “I’d like to see that picture.”
“Now hold on,” Terry Cook said. “We don’t have any way of knowing who took that picture or when or if it was, what ya call, doctored up?”
“Photoshopped,” Max said.
“What?” Terry said.
“Photoshopped,” Max said again. “That’s how you would alter a digital picture like this. Only I didn’t. And I’m the one who took it.”
Donnie Black turned to Coach Patterson and said, “Coach, I’ve really got to apologize for this disturbance today. You deserve better treatment than this.”
Max looked at Donnie and said, “You’re right about one thing, Donnie. Coach Patterson deserves better.”
Just then Michelle and Ms. Jones walked into the room. Their timing couldn’t have been more perfect.
CHAPTER 96
Ms. Jones and Michelle walked slowly to the front of the room. Michelle had learned that slow was the only speed Ms. Jones had, so there was no sense in rushing her.
As they made their way toward the stage, Alex Martin and his buddy came into the room through the same door Michelle and Ms. Jones had just entered. Much like the last time he’d seen him, Alex Martin was covered in blood.
“Coach Patterson, I want to introduce you to Ms. Jones,” Max said. “That’s her son’s car you see there in the picture. He died at the scene.”
Max could see Coach Patterson wasn’t yet sure what was happening. He felt bad, but this was the only way Max could think of to confront the guilty parties. He needed Coach Patterson and the media to be present to have a chance of this working.
“Ms. Jones, would you mind telling everyone how you found your way to Lakeside?” Max said.
She started to speak and then a reporter yelled, “Give her the mic.”
Coach Patterson took a step back from the podium. Donnie Black stood up and took a step toward the stage. Coach Patterson looked at him and waved him off. Maybe the coach was beginning to understand. Donnie reluctantly sat down and looked toward Terry Cook for help again. Terry gave none.
Ms. Jones stepped up to the mic, looked at the room and then at Max. He nodded and she said. “Mr. Murphy came to my house after Dante was picked the best sophomore football player in Alabama a couple years ago,” she said.
“Is that Jack Murphy, ma’am?” the writer for the paper asked.
“Yes, sir,” she said. “Mr. Murphy came to see us. He said we could have a nice house and a good job for me if we moved to Lakeside.” She hesitated for a moment. “We didn’t have too much. We lived in a trailer, ya know.”
Other than some clanking glasses in the kitchen, the room was silent.
“Coach, it’s time to wrap this up,” Donnie said. “It’s after 1:30 now. And I don’t mean to be disrespectful to Ms. Jones here, but Jack Murphy isn’t here to defend himself.”
Coach Patterson looked at Donnie and said simply, “Sit down. We’ll hear what Ms. Jones has to say.”
“And so we moved to Lakeside after Dante finished up his sophomore year,” Ms. Jones said. “And he played football last year for Coach Henry here.”
“Ms. Jones, tell us what happened to Dante,” Max said.
“Dante started getting letters,” she said.
“You mean recruiting letters?” Max said.
“Oh, yes sir,” she said. “Like Alabama and LSU and Florida and Arkansas. He probably got two-dozen letters. They just kept coming.”
“What happened then?” Max said.
“Then the phone calls started. Those coaches started calling the house and asking to speak to Dante,” she said. “And pretty soon, Dante said he wanted to visit some of them schools.”
“That must have been exciting,” Max said.
“Except Mr. Murphy said that because we got the house and the job, Dante had to go to Northern Arkansas State,” she said.
“Then what?” Max said.
“Mr. Murphy warned Dante that he couldn’t do that. He said a man had to honor his word,” she said.
“How did Dante take that?” Max asked.
“Well, he told Mr. Murphy he was gonna make it to the NFL one day and he’d pay him back for the house,” she said.
Max felt like he was playing district attorney. He hoped the pseudo-jury of Lakeside residents and media were buying his case.
“Ms. Jones, to the best of your knowledge, was there anything wrong with Dante’s car?” Max asked. “What I mean is, the police investigation concluded the brakes failed on Dante’s car and he hit a tree.”
“That was a brand new car,” Ms. Jones said. “Mr. Murphy bought it for Dante. There wasn’t nothin’ wrong with the brakes.”
Max looked at Donnie and said, “You wouldn’t happen to have any knowledge of Dante’s wreck, would you?”
Donnie came out of his seat and yelled, “I’ve had enough! This meeting is over!”
The room suddenly got loud as people stood up and started shouting questions. It looked like the meeting really was over. Max could see Terry Cook headed toward him now. He just hoped he’d raised enough questions to get the media to dig into what had happened.
Then the one person in the room who could bring order, did. Coach Patterson stepped up to the microphone, leaned in close and said in the raspy, commanding voice of a head football coach, “Sit down.”
And everyone did as they were told.
CHAPTER 97
Coach Patterson didn’t need to say it twice. Even the chief of police sat back down. Once they were all seated again, Coach Patterson cleared his throat and said, “I’d like to hear the answer to that last question.” And then he looked down from the stage at Donnie Black and said, “Donnie, do you know anything about the accident that caused that boy’s death?”
Someone in the back of the room stood up and shouted, “Don’t answer that, Donnie!” Max didn’t know his name, but recognized him as a local attorney.
Coach Patterson looked at the attorney and said, “I told you to sit down.” When he didn’t immediately do as he’d been told, several former players who were seated nearby stood up and the attorney reluctantly, but wisely sat back down.
Donnie looked to the back of the room where Alex and Mike were standing. “If you want to know about Dante’s accident or Jack Murphy’s death, ask those two guys,” Donnie said as he pointed to the two men at the back of the room.
Every head in the room turned to look. They looked at each other and then the door, but they could see they had nowhere to go. Terry Cook, who just a minute earlier had been moving toward Max and Donnie, was now making his way to the back of the room toward Alex and Mike.
“Oh no!” Alex shouted. “I’m not going down for this. We only did what Donnie told us to do.” Max was glad to see the television camera was now pointed at Alex.
And then Coach Patterson interrupted. “Terry, before you get in a rush to arrest these two boys, why don’t you tell us why your department ruled Dante’s accident was due to brake failure when Max has this picture here that shows skid marks and damage to the rear end?”
Terry stopped where he was. “Coach, I have every reason to believe Max Henry was involved in all this and is trying to point the finger at others to save himself. We have evidence that Max had a fight with Jack Murphy and threatened him. We also have video evidence clearly showing Jack leaving the field house on Saturday and Max leaving right after him. Thirty minutes later, we found Jack Murphy dead.”
Now all eyes were back on Max. And then from the corner of the room, someone said, “Max Henry didn’t follow Jack to the place he was found killed. Those two guys did. I saw them stop behind Jack’s car and get out.” It was Willy, and he’d just pointed to Alex and Mike. “My wife, Rose, was with me, too.” Then Willy said, “So don’t add to the corruption in your police department by accusing an innocent man, Terry.”
As Terry sat back down, Max saw Coach Patterson pull out a cell phone and make a call.
He hated to do it, but Max looked at Bill Jackson, who was trying to sink down in his seat as far as he could, but he just couldn’t sink far enough. “Are you going to say anything, Bill?” Max said. He’d given Bill a chance to do the right thing in his office. It was too late now.
“I didn’t want anything to do with this,” Bill said. “Jack had gotten himself in too far and came to me for help. He said Donnie wanted to scare Dante, but things had gotten out of hand.”
Donnie was now taking the attorney’s advice and not saying a word, but if looks could kill, Max knew he’d already be dead.
Coach Patterson surveyed the room. Max knew he had to feel devastated by what he’d heard over the last fifteen minutes. “I’m going to suggest we all remain here,” Coach said. “I know some of you have to get back to work or to other meeti
ngs, but I think you’ll agree it would be best to stay.” And after a moment, he added, “I called a friend, Steve Kessinger, he’s a captain with the Arkansas State Police. He’s on his way with some of his men.”
The truth was out now. Max looked across the room. Life in Lakeside had been forever altered. The fallout would change the lives and fortunes of a lot of people in town and at the university.
