“Well, now that Arnie’s been attacked, that’s clearly not what happened,” said Steve, sticking up for his friend.
“Not necessarily. You said Arnie was a good guy. If he and Susan did kill her husband… maybe he wanted to confess. To come clean. So she tried to kill him.”
“I really hope that’s not the case,” Bruce said.
“I hope so too. It’s just my attempt to make sense of this all,” I said. “I’m open to other ideas.”
Steve and Bruce looked at each other. “I have to admit, we’ve talked about it,” Steve said. “Once we heard that Randall might have been murdered, I think everyone’s been wondering who could have done it.”
“And did you come up with any suspects?”
Bruce shrugged. “Plenty of people disliked him.”
“How about hated?”
He nodded. “Heck yes.”
“Did you hate him?”
“Some days. I’m sure Steve and Arnie would say the same thing. Anyone who’s coached under him would. That’s why you don’t see guys coaching with him for long. I’m one of the very few to follow him to his next stop. A guy like Randall Mossback doesn’t make friends. He wins football games. But along the way, he pissed a lot of people off.”
“Like Coach Hawes,” said Steve.
“The coach of Mound City,” I said.
Steve nodded. “He’s hated Coach Mossback with a white-hot passion for a long time. Only thing is, he was coaching two hours away on Friday night. So there’s no way he could have done it.”
That wasn’t entirely true. Dr. Bridges had established the time of death as being between noon and eight p.m. on Saturday. Not Friday night. Unless Mason Hawes had an alibi for that time period, he was still under consideration. But the time of death was one of the few details that was still under wraps. And Alex would want me to keep it that way.
“How about former players? I’ve heard a lot of the boys didn’t care for him either.”
Bruce laughed. “I hate to be a broken record, but again, the answer is lots of the kids hated him. He got on just about everyone’s case. Hard.”
“Just about everyone? Not everyone everyone?”
“Well, if you were great, he pretty much let you be. Like Elliot Sunderland. He gets a pass.”
“I heard he’s the best football player to come through Hopeless in a long time.”
“Oh yeah. He’s a big-time linebacker prospect.”
“That reminds me of something I heard from Mandy Broderick,” I said. “She told me about some crazy drill Coach Mossback ran his first year here when Elliot Sunderland was a sophomore. All the boys entered a circle, and it was an all-out brawl until there was only one man standing. Do you guys remember this?”
The two coaches exchanged a nervous look.
“Guys?”
Finally Steve nodded soberly. “Yeah, Hope, we remember.”
Chapter 22
“Coach Mossback called it ‘Tough Guy.’ He ran it at the end of training camp before school started,” Steve explained. “Your description of it was basically spot on. I’ve never seen anything like it. Kids just going at each other. It was like something out of Lord of the Flies.”
“It sounds barbaric.”
“It was,” Steve agreed.
“Then why didn’t you stop it?”
Steve shrugged. “It was happening before I knew it was happening, and by then it felt like it was too late. And at the end of it all, Elliot was the last man standing. He as ‘the Tough Guy,” the way Coach puts it. But then he did something Coach never ever expected.”
“He chose himself,” said Bruce.
“He sure as hell did,” said Steve. “Pretty impressive. The kid’s a born leader.”
I was confused. “I think I missed something. He chose himself? What are you talking about?”
“Mandy didn’t tell you?” said Steve.
Bruce turned to Steve. “Maybe she didn’t know.” He turned back to me. “Listen, you gotta understand, I’m not proud of this. Not at all. I just want you to know that. But… well, Steve at least has the excuse of not knowing what was coming. I did. Coach Mossback did the Tough Guy drill at Crete City, too. He was there for almost ten years, and I was there for five. So I’d seen it. Saw what it did to the kids. I should have said something. I know that. But he was the boss, you know? And he loved that drill.
“He would tell the boys football comes down to toughness, pure and simple. That football is sixty minutes of pure Darwinism. Winners and losers on every play. And then he’d prove it by making the kids beat the crap out of each other. Last man standing is the Tough Guy.
“Coach then tells the Tough Guy to choose the weakest link. And then…” Bruce looked to the ground and shook his head. Then he looked back up at me, his face twisting in pain. “And then the team grabs the weakest link and tapes him to the goalpost.”
“You’re kidding me.”
The anguish on Bruce’s face intensified. “Sadly, I’m not. I watched it go on for five years, and then again that first year here at Hopeless. I never had enough courage to challenge it. I never stopped it. But Elliot… a kid, a mere sophomore… he did.”
“How?” I asked.
“By choosing himself to be taped to the goalposts,” Bruce said. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Everyone was stunned. Even Coach Mossback didn’t know what to do. Elliot stood there screaming at the rest of the players to tape him up—and no one would. And one by one, everyone just walked away.”
“We haven’t done the drill again,” said Steve. “And thank God for that.”
“It took a fifteen-year-old kid to do what I never had the guts to do,” Bruce said.
“Elliot Sunderland must be a very special kid.”
“He is. No doubt about it.”
A thought struck me. “Who was the weakest link that year? If Elliot had done what Coach Mossback expected him to, who would he have picked?”
“Oh, that’s easy,” said Bruce. “Really nice kid, but unfortunately one of the weakest links I have ever seen. A kid named Martin Gellman.”
Word spread about what had happened to Coach Duncan, and throughout the day people from around town came by the hospital to ask if he was going to be okay. It seemed that everyone, in one way or another, thought that Arnie was one of the good guys. And everyone looked spooked.
One high school football coach had been murdered.
And now a second one’s life hung in the balance.
It was pretty horrific.
And the people of Hopeless wanted answers.
Bev Hamilton, the high school art teacher, was one of those who visited. I’d met Bev earlier in the fall when I was working on the Thorndale case.
“Did you know Arnie well?” I asked her.
She shrugged. “Most of us teachers are friendly. We laugh in the teachers’ lounge, eat the occasional lunch together, that kind of thing. Arnie always had a kind word.”
Bev had helped me before, and I wondered if she could help me again. She struck me as the kind of person who often heard things.
“I’ve got kind of a strange question, Bev. I heard Arnie went through a divorce a few years ago.”
“That’s true. I didn’t really know his wife. What’s the question?”
“Do you know if he’s dated anyone since?”
“Not that I know of, but I don’t know him that well.”
“No problem,” I said.
“But I think Mandy knows him pretty well.”
“Mandy Broderick?”
She nodded. “She’s a little better talking with guys than me… if you know what I mean.”
“I’m not sure I do know what you mean.”
She leaned in. “You didn’t hear this from me, but Mandy can be a bit of a flirt.”
“Are you saying you think there was something going on between her and Arnie?”
“No… just that she talked freely with guys. I think they found her easy to talk to.”
I recalled my conversation at the bar when Mandy told me how Arnie had confided in her about his feelings for Susan Mossback.
“Did Mandy just flirt, or did she ever date anyone?” I asked.
Bev hesitated. “Yeah, she dated. Plenty of guys.”
“Is she dating anyone now?”
“I don’t know for sure…” She hesitated again, then shook her head. “I really wouldn’t know.”
As the hours passed, the crowd in the waiting room continued to swell. I didn’t know most of them, but I could tell they were football fans. And they just wanted to help. And it seemed like every teacher from the high school was there. All of them said the same thing. Arnie was a good guy. He didn’t deserve this.
I agreed. Unless, of course, he was the one who killed Coach Mossback.
Then maybe he did deserve it.
I was most pleased when Stank stopped by with a couple of boxes of cupcakes from Cup. Although as I polished off a pink champagne cupcake, I began to regret the three candy bars I’d already eaten.
Principal Booth showed up too. He told me the whole school community was pulling for Coach Duncan—as if that wasn’t already obvious by their presence.
“I’ve never heard of something like this,” he said. “Two football coaches in one week.” He shook his head like he was living a bad dream. Then rather abruptly, he refocused. “The state athletic commission has been in touch. In light of everything going on, they’re in the process of moving the state championship from Boise to here. The game will be played in our stadium.”
“Why? And won’t the kids miss going to Boise for the game? I thought that was part of the reward of making it this far.”
“That’s true, but giving these kids a home game seemed like the least they could do. It’ll allow the kids to spend more time with their families and community. At least that’s what the athletic commission said.” He shrugged. “I do think it could be a good thing. Rally around Coach Duncan. Come together as a community.”
I wasn’t sure whether to feel surprise when Mandy Broderick showed up that afternoon with another group of teachers. I knew how she felt about football… but I wasn’t sure how she felt about Arnie. Apparently he was more than a mere acquaintance, judging by her eyes, which were red as though she’d been crying.
“You okay, Mandy?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Not really. Not really at all. I just can’t believe this is happening.”
“A lot of people are taking this hard. Arnie seems to be well-liked.”
“He is. I can’t understand why anyone would do this. It’s not like Randy at all. That one made sense. But Arnie…” She shook her head again.
“Were you and Arnie close?” I asked.
“Close enough. He was a good guy. Easy to talk to.”
“If he was such a good guy, why did you hypothesize that he killed Coach Mossback?”
“Because I think things through logically. It makes sense to me. But it’s not like I want Arnie to be a killer. If we’re being honest, I think that Susan Mossback’s the one pulling the strings.”
“Why do you say that?”
“She’s the one who married the scumbag, isn’t she? More importantly, she’s the one who stayed married to him. Which means maybe she’s kind of a scumbag too. I mean, it’s not like she’s the warmest bun in the oven. And then she saw Arnie, good guy and lonely as he was, and maybe she saw him as the perfect stooge. She seduces him. Gets him to kill her husband. And then…” She frowned. “Maybe she tries to kill him to cover it up.”
I paused, working the idea through in my head.
Mandy eyed me suspiciously. “You don’t buy it.”
“No, I actually do sort of buy it. I’m just not sure. I’ll think about it. But there was one other thing I wanted to ask you about.”
“Anything,” she said.
“I asked the assistant coaches about that horrible football drill you described. Did you know about the choice that the winner was supposed to make at the end?”
“A choice? No. What choice?”
“The winner was supposed to choose the weakest kid on the team. And then everyone would tape that weak kid to the goalposts.”
Mandy’s eyes filled with rage.
“Only, that never happened,” I said. “After Elliot Sunderland won the drill, he chose himself. And I guess that kind of… took the wind out of everyone’s sails. They haven’t done that drill again since.”
Mandy covered her mouth. “Wow. Elliot is some kind of kid.”
“That’s what I’ve heard. I’ve also heard that Martin Gellman is easily the kid who would have been chosen as the weakest link by any other player on the team. If not for Elliot, he would have been the kid who got taped to the goalposts.”
Mandy’s eyes darkened. “Thank God that never happened.”
“Yes. But it made me wonder about what you said about Martin the other day. About how he might hold a grudge against Coach Mossback.”
Mandy shook her head. “You’re barking up the wrong tree, Hope. If Martin was the weakest link on the team, it’s because he’s the sweetest and gentlest kid you’ll ever meet. If you think he killed Randy and then tried to kill Arnie… forget it. No chance whatsoever.”
“Then how about his dad? If that were my son, I’d be awfully angry. An angry parent could do something like this.”
Mandy nodded. “A parent could. But Martin’s dad died when he was little, and his mom is too busy to even breathe, let alone pull off something like this. Plus, like you said, Martin never got taped to those goalposts, so his mom never had reason to be angry.”
“All because of Elliot Sunderland,” I said.
Mandy nodded again. “All because of Elliot. He really is some kind of kid.”
Chapter 23
At ten minutes after three, a parade of football players arrived, all wearing their football jerseys. Leading the pack was a tall, broad-shouldered boy wearing the number 44. He was a good-looking kid with short brown hair and a confident air.
Elliot Sunderland.
He walked right up to one of the teachers and asked how Coach was doing.
The teacher shrugged. “Still no word, Elliot.”
Elliot somberly gathered the team around him, then led them in a couple of prayers. It was actually very sweet. When they finished, several went in search of the remaining cupcakes while others lined up at the vending machine. But Elliot just stayed where he was and scanned the room. When he spotted me, he walked up to me like a soldier on a mission.
“Elliott Sunderland.” He held out his hand.
I shook it. “Hope Walker.”
“You’re the newspaper reporter, right?”
“How’d you know?”
“Small town. Plus, my dad mentioned it. He said you solved the murders earlier this fall.”
“Not just me.”
Elliot smiled. “He said it was mostly you. I wondered if you had any leads?”
“I can’t really discuss the case with you.”
He made a face like he hadn’t considered that. Then he nodded. “I can understand that. But is there anything I can do to help? I’m the captain of our team, and these are my coaches. I’d like to help, if I can.”
“How old are you, Elliot?”
“Seventeen, ma’am. Why?”
“I would feel more comfortable speaking with you if you had your dad’s permission.”
“Easy enough.” He turned and hollered to the other side of the waiting room. “Dad!”
Kevin Sunderland immediately got up and joined us.
“Dad, I asked Miss Walker if I might be able to help her figure out who did this, but she said she wouldn’t talk to me without asking your permission first.”
Kevin gave a tip of his chin. “I appreciate that, Hope. By all means, ask Elliot anything you’d like. We all just want to know what’s going on around here.”
“Okay,” I said, “let’s start with the obvious question. Do you h
ave any idea who might have wanted to hurt Coach Mossback and Coach Duncan?”
They looked at each other for a moment. “Go ahead, son,” said Kevin.
Elliot looked down at me. “It’s weird. In most ways, Coach Mossback and Coach Duncan couldn’t be more different. Coach Mossback could be pretty scary, and he was always tough like a drill sergeant. And Coach Duncan is more of a fatherly figure. He doesn’t have to kick your face in, if you know what I mean. So I guess what I’m thinking is… I’m not sure the two attacks are related. I mean, if I was someone who hated Coach Mossback, I would probably love Coach Duncan. And the same goes for the other way around. I just can’t figure who would want to hurt them both.”
“Maybe someone who hated your team and wanted to see you lose,” I offered.
Elliot looked doubtful. “You really think someone would kill a coach over a stupid game?”
“I’ve been told you’re going to play big-time college football. I would think you’d be the last person to call a state championship a ‘stupid game.’”
“Compared to someone’s life it is. I enjoy football, don’t get me wrong, but mostly it’s a way of getting my school paid for. I want to be an architectural engineer. I want to design buildings. Own my own company someday. Football is fun. But it isn’t life.”
“Sounds like you have your head screwed on pretty good,” I observed.
He smiled.
“You must be really proud,” I said to Kevin.
“Couldn’t be prouder,” he replied. “Elliot works hard, does everything right.”
“He must have a good father.”
Elliot slapped his dad on the back. “I do.”
Kevin shook his head. “No, not me. What Elliot’s done, he’s done on his own. He deserves everything he gets.”
I smiled. “I’m sure it’s a little of both.” I turned back to Elliot. “Elliot, there is something else I wanted to ask you about. Coach Williams and Coach Edwards were telling me about a drill that Coach Mossback ran his first year here. Sounded pretty barbaric. They called it Tough Guy. Do you remember it?”
Elliot and his dad exchanged another look.
“I remember it,” said Elliot with some hesitation. “Why?”
A Hopeless Game Page 14
