Tell No One

by Jeff Vrolyks

  There was something else he really liked about Scotty. Theo had never been asked to be put on hold. A man that important and busy must have had other clients phone him during his long conversations with Theo, which meant those callers got Scotty’s voicemail. It meant he valued Theo over the others. Heck, Plaxico Burress won the Super Bowl MVP a few years ago! Had Plaxico called, would he have gotten the voicemail? Theo liked to think he would have. It all pointed to one thing: Scotty anticipated Theo making a ton of money in the NFL over his career.

  “What’s up, my brother?”

  “Theodore Allen Graham, how are you this glorious, beautiful day?”

  “Geez…” Theo laughed. “Chipper, are we?”

  “Yes, we are. We being the key word there. Are you ready to be elated?”

  “Hell yes.”

  “What do you want first, the good news or the great news?”

  “Both, at the same time.”

  “Sorry, I can’t walk and chew gum at the same time. Here’s the good news: Subway wants you for two commercials, and you’ll be in them with Derek Jeter, Apolo Ohno, and Dwayne Wade. Five-hundred-and-fifty-thousand for the two.”

  “Oh my God…” Theo titled his head back on the head-rest of the F-150 and smiled, pictured himself driving an Aston Martin convertible. “That’s awesome. How’d you do it? I thought they were hesitant to use me until I was drafted?”

  “They were. They are. They have a time-line for this marketing season, and they’re shooting the commercials before the draft. They wanted an NFL player, NBA, MLB, and Olympian. They were considering Matt Stafford. Matt wanted a million, and they might have paid it. Don’t take this the wrong way, but them getting you for almost half of what Stafford was asking sealed the deal. Stafford has been playing in the NFL for a few years, so we can’t expect to earn that kind of money yet.”

  “I’m more than happy with five-hundred-and-fifty. How’d you get them to take me before the draft?”

  “I called them this morning, just after getting off the phone with Jim Harbaugh. I told them a secret, a secret which I’ll share with you right now. The great news. San Francisco will be taking you, barring Tennessee or St. Louis doesn’t take you, which they won’t.”

  Theo said nothing. His eyes were welling up. He pictured himself wearing the Niner’s jersey, as he often did, but this time the fantasy was more clear, and finally it wasn’t wishful thinking, but based on reality.

  “Hello? Theo? Did you have a heart attack?” He laughed. “I take it we’re happy?”

  “I love you, Scotty. I mean that.”

  “Well I love you too, buddy. So did I assign those two tidbits of news correctly? I could have said the Subway commercials were the great news, because you’ll be getting a check in hand in three weeks. Your first payment for your talent.”

  “No, you did it right. When and where are the commercials being shot?”

  “Los Angeles, March twenty-seventh. I’ll book your flight and make all your arrangements. It’s on a Saturday. Now, about the Niner’s… Jim is a friend of mine, and we spoke of things we aren’t supposed to talk about; namely, contracts. His only concern, and I mean only concern, because San Francisco is thrilled at the idea of getting you, a local star, a guy who wore Niner’s jerseys as a kid and plans on wearing them for the rest of his life… his only concern is that they can’t afford you. Revenues aren’t what they once were for that club, since Steve Young retired. I impressed upon them that they’d be back up there this year with you as the team’s captain, not to mention their defense will be number one or two in the league, and they’ll be getting a stud wide-out with their second pick in the first round. Frisco will be playoff-bound this year, who could doubt that?”

  “I sure don’t doubt it.”

  “And teams that make the playoffs make big bucks in revenues; tickets, apparel, TV ratings. Jim wanted to know how much it would take to secure you, and I told him twenty to sign, twenty-five more over three years.”

  “Did he laugh and hang up the phone?”

  Scotty humored. “No, but there was silence on the other end. He said that number wasn’t possible for them. Nothing personal, they just can’t afford it. So we threw some numbers back and forth—this is just ballpark numbers, nothing contractual, Jim doesn’t own the team obviously—and I think we’re going to make it work. He said the owner was more in the neighborhood of ten million to sign, fifteen over three years.”

  “That would be just fine by me, Scotty.”

  “I’m sure it would, but it’s not enough. We spoke of a clause in the contract that would pay you an award if the team makes the playoffs. Between four and six million. And that would be for each of your three years in the contract. So if we get those numbers, you’ll have twenty-five million guaranteed for three years, with a possible twelve to eighteen million in bonuses. Do the math, that’s thirty-seven to forty-three million for three years of ball, assuming you make the playoffs. Twenty-five if you don’t. But you will, we both know that.”

  “Where do I sign?” Theo wiped his eyes. It might have been the best day of his life and he wasn’t even drafted yet.

  “You deserve every cent of it, bud. You work hard, and bore people with your efficiency.”

  Theo giggled. “Okay, Chris Berman.”

  “The greats often make it look easy. I don’t see how that’s boring, but whatever. How’s everything on your end? Heading home tomorrow?”

  “Things are good. Yeah, probably heading home tomorrow afternoon. Maybe not, but I think so.”

  “You never sent me a pic of your hottie.”

  “That’s right. I will. I wish I could take her home and show you in person.”

  “Tell her the numbers we just discussed and I imagine she’ll follow you to the distant corners of the earth.”

  “She’d be more apt to follow me around if I converted to Mormonism. Money doesn’t do it for her, God does.”

  “Ah, one of those, huh? I thought they all lived in Utah?”

  “Nah, they’re everywhere. These here live in a community of three or four thousand. They’re fundamentalists, which means the guys can have more than one wife.”

  “Shit, sign me up. Susan would kill me if she just heard me say that.”

  “I bet.”

  “She doesn’t mind that you aren’t Mormon? I thought they only got with other Mormons.”

  “I don’t know, I guess. She’d probably be excommunicated from the church if she ran off with me.”

  “For forty million bucks it would be worth it.”

  “Yeah, that’s all she cares about, I’m sure. How much I’ll earn. I stand a better chance with her if I converted my religion.”

  “I don’t recommend that. People will be looking up to you; you’ll be a role model. I’m not sure how they’ll receive you if you’re a Mormon.”

  “Mormon’s are the nicest people on earth, seriously. They get a bad rap. And besides, I don’t think that’s true about football fans not looking up to a Mormon athlete. Look at Mitt Romney, he’s a Mormon.”

  “That’s right. I like Romney, he’s all about lower taxes. You’ll shit an egg when you see how much money you’ll be paying in taxes.”

  “Yeah, I’ll need a good accountant, to help me along there.”

  “I know a guy. He’ll hide a lot of your dough, legally. Well, mostly legally,” Scotty said and laughed.

  “I don’t mind paying my fair share.”

  “Your fair share will be about fifteen million dollars over three years. Still not interested in my guy’s services.”

  “My God… fifteen million? And they say rich people don’t pay enough taxes? Not our fair share?”

  “Yes, that’s poor people saying that, the ones who don’t pay anything in taxes and receive welfare checks that we foot the bill for.”

  “Fifteen million will write an awful lot of welfare checks.”

  “Yes it will, and yet the people cashing them will see you as the evil rich. Pretty
fair, huh?”

  “Yeah, no kidding. Well I got to get going, Scotty. You made my day, really. My year.”

  “I knew I would. Let me know when we can get together for a beer. I’ll fly up for the day.”

  “Sure thing. See ya, bro.”

  “Later, Theo.”

  * * *

  The only car fronting the medical office was a blue Honda hatchback. Theo parked beside it and entered. Carmen was using a feather-duster on the leaves of the camera-crew. She continued her business after greeting him. He asked her to put the duster down and have a seat, he needed to talk to her, then asked if the doc would be back soon. Yes, pretty soon, she estimated, and took her seat behind the desk, wary from Theo’s unnerved disposition.

  “What’s wrong?” she said.

  “I feel a little ill, and you’re about to.”

  “Why?”

  “I could show you on my laptop if you’d like. If you have decent Verizon 3G service here.”

  “Gary will be back soon, just tell me.”

  “I sat in the parking lot of The Merc and Googled Michael Reese Gibson. Of all the hits on the search engine, the one at the top was for a missing person.”

  “What did it say?”

  “It was the same guy. A resident of Helena. They guy was a writer, a ghost writer. He wrote books for other authors.”

  “I know what a ghost writer is.”

  “His family reported him missing after he went to buy a car private-party from someone here, a Cedar Hills resident. He had found the car for sale on Craigslist, a Mercedes Benz, was to pay nine-thousand bucks in cash to the man. He withdrew the cash from his bank, and nobody has seen him since.”

  Carmen was rubbing her glassy eyes. They killed a good man, she was surely thinking.

  “Police went to the Cedar Hills residence and the family living there knew nothing about a car for sale, had never owned a Mercedes, and were dumbfounded by the cop’s questioning. They were cleared of any wrong doing. It seems someone just used that address to lure Michael Gibson there, and then abducted him. Cops knocked on some doors here in town, but nothing ever came up. Michael has a wife and two kids. Had, I should say.”

  Carmen was now crying.

  “Feel bad for Michael, for his wife and kids, but don’t feel responsible, Carmen. We didn’t kill him.”

  “We didn’t?” she said in a small voice.

  “No. Do you think Michael was camping out in a mine after the abduction? No. Michael was murdered, and not by us.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yep. Michael went missing last year.”

  She exhaled, tension dissipated. “You should have started with that, dummy.”

  “Someone must have robbed him, brought him out to the mine and killed him. Dragged him deep enough that nobody would find him. If and when the cops conducted a search, even if they found the mine they wouldn’t go too far inside, there would be no reason to. I guess it beats digging a grave, especially if you don’t own a shovel, say, if you’re homeless and don’t own a shovel. Plus a search party might notice a freshly dug grave. I don’t know, I’m just speculating.”

  “You think the guy in the tent did it?”

  “It makes sense, don’t you think?”

  “It does. That means the man we killed is in the mine, too, farther down.”

  “Yep. We didn’t go far enough in.”

  They heard a vehicle pulling up.

  “We need to tell the police about Michael,” Theo said. “For his family. It’s not right that he rots in there while his family holds on to hope that he’s still alive.”

  “The same could be said for the guy deeper in the mine. If we report this, the other guy will be found, too.”

  “Maybe we should. We won’t be connected to it.”

  “You don’t think the cops will question this guy and he’ll tell them what he heard us talking about? Hell, they’ll blame him for both dead men. Of course he’ll tell them he didn’t do it, and then blame us.”

  The door opened, Gary didn’t enter but asked if they were ready to go.

  Chapter Seventeen

  They drove in Gary’s borrowed Jeep Wrangler, a four wheel drive vehicle suitable for the mission. Carmen sat in the cramped back seat, Theo up front. It was drizzling from the onset, progressing into a sprinkle before the Jeep’s tires touched the dirt succeeding the paved residential road. The road, York Court, was the road farthest east in town, and almost perfectly lateral to the mine. There was a gap in the cloud cover miles ahead, with a shaft of sunbeams fanning out, looking like something in one of Theo’s father’s paintings. The wiper blades were squealing loudly in the noisy cabin of the Jeep. They traversed the verdant landscape teeming with trees and underbrush carefully, unable to see the terrain under the two-foot high heather grass. The Jeep would cant from invisible dips and rocks.

  Theo was telling Gary what he learned about Michael Reese Gibson, and his theory of what happened. Gary didn’t take his eyes off the path, but hummed at some of the details.

  “I remember that,” Gary said, regarding the police inquisition. “They stuck around town for about a week, questioning us and snooping around. That’s why that name sounded familiar.”

  Us, Theo thought. Not people, but us. He sees the individuals of town collectively. Much as Theo saw the individuals of Stanford football as a team, a unit. To attack verbally or otherwise a member of his organization was to attack them all. Calling his free-safety a scumbag was to say Stanford Football was nothing but scumbags. He could relate to Gary on his sentiment of Cedar Hills.

  “How come I don’t remember that?” Carmen said from the back seat.

  “I don’t know. I guess they mostly stuck around the north end of town, where the residence was believed to be the abduction point. You wouldn’t see their cruisers from where we live.”

  “So much for John Whitmeier, if that’s who it is, being non-violent,” Theo said, disheartened at the idea of confronting a murderer.

  “I guess I was wrong. That asshole,” Gary said through clenched teeth, “killing a man. What was he thinking! That he was once one of us breaks my heart. If it weren’t a sin, I’d have half a mind to put a bullet in him.”

  “What are your thoughts on reporting this to the Helena Police Department?” Theo asked.

  “No way. It would make the news; bad publicity for our community. That you would probably be attached to the story, if John opens his big mouth, it would make national headlines. And as if Mormons don’t have a tough enough time with the media already, we’ll get slaughtered in this story.” He risked a brief glance at Theo. “We try to expand our community, bring new souls to God, but when people think we’re doing stuff like John Whitmeier is doing, that won’t happen. And can you blame them?”

  “I guess not,” Theo said, eyes following their path.

  “So Mike Gibson has been missing for a year? Didn’t you say that you found his body when you were kids?”

  Theo said nothing. Let Carmen explain that one, he thought.

  “Yes,” she said after a long enough silence that Gary had already judged the answer.

  “Are you kidding me? Another body in the mine?”

  “Yes,” she said in just above a whisper.

  He shot Theo a look and said, “Yeah, forget reporting this. Two bodies?” He shook his head in disbelief. “Two people killed? I just can’t believe it! I’m telling you right now, Georgette, Theo, it is going to take a heck of a lot of restraint to keep me for shooting this monster. An eye for an eye. He doesn’t deserve to live.”

  Theo looked back at Carmen. She was expressionless. “Maybe he didn’t kill the other man,” Theo said.

  “I sure hope he did. If not, that would mean we have two murderers in town. It had to have been him.”

  Carmen leaned forward in her seat, put her mouth against Theo’s ear and whispered, “That man is going to tell Gary that we killed the other man, don’t you think?”

  Her voice tickl
ed his ear, bristled the hair on his neck. He turned and spoke into her ear, “Who’s Gary going to believe, him or us? We’ll be okay.”

  She nodded and returned back to her uncomfortable seat. The Jeep jarred on the rough terrain. It was no longer sprinkling but raining, and coming down pretty good. Dusk was an hour or so away. Theo asked if Gary had flashlights. Gary pointed to the glove box. Theo opened it and found a Maglite and a Glock handgun on top of insurance and registration paperwork.

  “I brought a couple flashlights, too,” Carmen said. “In my purse.”

  “You remembered my dad’s gun, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “Did you bring a shotgun?” Theo asked Gary.

  “You bet. It’s under my seat.”

  Carmen looked to the foot-well of the other seat, saw six inches of the barrel protruding out past Gary’s seat.

  “Here’s what we’re going to do,” Gary said, loudly to compete with the cabin noise. “Georgette, will it be possible to pull the Jeep up to the tent, or are there any obstacles preventing that?”