by Becky Harmon
“And Coach Sutton.”
Shea smiled, drinking the last of her wine. “He’s been wonderful,” she said as she stood to retrieve the bottle from the counter, pouring more into both their glasses.
“Carlton Hammer says Coach treats you like a princess,” Jamison said with an evil grin.
Shea laughed. “Well, I think that’s going a bit overboard but hey, I am the star of the team.”
Jamison laughed with her. She was surprised at how much they had both relaxed and she accounted for it with the wine. Taking another sip, she asked her first question hoping she wouldn’t be met with resistance. “So when did you first hear about the threats to the team?”
The smile on Shea’s face dropped and she shook her head. “When I learned they were focused on me. Coach didn’t want any of us to worry and I guess no one was really taking any of it seriously at first so he only told the other coaches. We were all a little shook up after the brakes went out on the bus but Coach didn’t want us to lose focus so they still didn’t tell the team.” She sighed, taking several sips of wine before setting her glass a little too hard on the table. “When I was locked in the closet I thought it was a horrible prank. There are a few guys on the team that I occasionally have issues with and I thought it was them. Coach pulled me in and showed me the note that was left the next day.”
Leaning forward in her chair Jamison nodded, and made a mental note to ask Carlton if the players had been looked at as suspects. She wanted Shea’s version of events even though she had already read most of what she was saying in the report Carlton had given her. Better if Shea talked without Jamison asking questions. But now there was silence. She studied Shea’s face. It held a worried look she hadn’t seen before. She didn’t want to push Shea too hard but she needed to know her perspective.
“Did you see anything out of the ordinary before you were locked in the closet? A person who shouldn’t have been around? Or maybe someone who shouldn’t have been near your locker room?”
“I answered those questions to the police already. Didn’t you get a copy of the report?”
Jamison nodded, trying to keep her voice gentle. “I did, but I want to hear your observations firsthand.”
Shea shrugged. “I didn’t notice anything. I was approached from behind and pushed into the closet. I never saw the guy.”
“Did you hear the locker room door open or close?”
Shea frowned. “You think he was hiding in the locker room with me?” She shuddered as she said the words. “That’s not a pleasant thought.”
Jamison touched her hand. “I’m here to keep that from happening.”
She watched the worry on Shea’s face fade into desire as she looked at Jamison’s hand. She quickly tried to pull her hand away but Shea grasped it, wrapping her long fingers gently around Jamison’s wrist. Her skin tingled where Shea touched, sending chills through her body.
She closed her eyes as Shea’s hand moved to caress her face. She was losing control fast and she struggled to maintain her composure. She took a deep breath and looked into Shea’s dark eyes. She was here to protect this woman not seduce her. Though at the moment she wasn’t sure who was doing the seducing. Jamison leaned back in her chair, moving out of Shea’s reach.
“This is not going to happen, Shea.”
Shea smiled. “What’s not going to happen?”
“You and me. It’s not going to happen. I’m here to do a job.”
She saw the quick flash of pain across Shea’s face before she jumped to her feet.
“Then just do it.”
Shea was gone before she could even think about responding.
* * *
Jamison’s words had cut through her. Jamison was here only because she had to be. To do her job. All of the friendliness between them had been a show to get her to be cooperative. Climbing the stairs, she remembered she had left her bag on the kitchen counter. She was certainly not going back to get it tonight. She fell into bed with her clothes on and buried herself in the covers.
It had been years since she had felt anything for a woman. Years since she had even craved the occasional fling. Football was her life and had been for as long as she could remember. She had discovered early on that boys were for playing football and nothing else. Girls were good for experimenting but she couldn’t see a relationship with any of them in the near future. She and Mel had talked about her living in the closet but she didn’t feel like that was what she was doing. She had her priorities and football was first. Nothing else mattered. Until now. Now that she had connected with Jamison, she finally felt what others talked about. The desire to be close to someone. She wanted to touch Jamison. To feel the softness of her skin beneath her fingertips.
She punched the pillow, taking out her anger. Jamison had rejected her and it hurt. She had seen something in Jamison’s eyes before the cutting words had come out of her mouth. Something she wouldn’t be able to easily forget. Something that made her palms sweat and her pulse race. But Jamison had slammed that door closed. If distance was what Jamison wanted, then fine. She would give her distance.
* * *
Jamison leaned her elbows on the table cradling her head. She had given Shea mixed messages and she couldn’t blame her for being angry. Maybe this was for the best and could help her keep the barrier between them. Her insides felt cold at the thought of not seeing Shea’s smile directed at her. Gathering herself, she got up and carried the plates to the sink. She was here to do a job and she would do it.
Opening the computer she logged into the camera and scanned the area around the house. She needed to find out the camera locations inside the stadium so she sent Carlton an email. She closed the computer and cleaned the kitchen. In the guest bathroom, she found some antibiotic ointment and bandages and doctored her blisters. In bed, at the last minute, she remembered Shea’s first class was at ten so she set her alarm for seven to make sure she was up and ready before Shea left the house.
Chapter Six
Jamison slapped the nightstand beside the bed, trying to make the annoying crickets stop chirping. She vaguely remembered setting the alarm tone and at the time the crickets had seemed really cute. Now she only wanted to stomp them. She moaned as she rolled over and cursed the wine she had drunk the night before. It hadn’t seemed like much last night but this morning her head was throbbing and her mouth felt fuzzy.
She stumbled to the bathroom and took two aspirin. She was brushing her teeth when she heard Shea descending the stairs. Jamison moved to the bedroom door and listened to her movements in the kitchen. When the front door slammed, she threw her toothbrush in the sink and bolted for the front door.
Shea jogged down the street and disappeared around the corner. Jamison grabbed her pistol and her keys. The weather would probably reach the low eighties today but right now the ground felt freezing on her bare feet. She jumped in her truck and its tires squealed as she gunned the engine. She caught a glimpse of Shea as soon as she turned the corner and eased her foot off the accelerator.
* * *
Shea concentrated on her breathing and the sounds of her footsteps on the pavement. Out of the corner of her eye, she had seen Jamison come out of the house and she knew she would be behind her somewhere. Her mind was still reeling from the words Jamison had said the night before. She had decided this morning if Jamison was only here to do a job then she wouldn’t stand in her way nor would she assist her in doing it. Jamison could follow behind her and stay out of her way.
Shea’s thoughts drifted to the upcoming game as her lungs sucked in the cool air. Thoughts of the game led to thoughts about the unknown man who was out to get her. Her teammates had teased her and she had laughed it off but who was this guy and how far would he go? She shivered as she realized how vulnerable she was at this very moment. She glanced over her shoulder, scanning the sidewalk behind her for Jamison. She didn’t want to admit it but having Jamison around made her feel safer. Her pulse quickened as she discovered there
was no sign of Jamison then she caught a glimpse of the dark blue truck moving slowly behind her. She should have known Jamison wouldn’t be far behind.
* * *
Jamison saw Shea turn and look behind her. She wanted to believe Shea was looking for her. Apparently she was still upset from her comments the previous night. She wanted to apologize and get back the easy camaraderie that had started to develop between them. She only had to make it until Mel returned and then maybe she could make things right with Shea—if she would let her.
She was relieved when Shea slowed to a walk and returned to the house. She crossed the street and caught the door before Shea could slam it shut. Afraid to take the time for a shower, she quickly pulled on socks and shoes. Shea appeared in time to walk to her class and she left the house without a word. Jamison pulled on the Tigers Windbreaker that she was now beginning to call her own, followed Shea across campus and waited until class started. Returning to the duplex, she showered and dressed in jeans, T-shirt and the Windbreaker. She grabbed her laptop and returned to wait outside Shea’s class.
She sat on the floor in the hallway with her computer in her lap. Carlton had sent her a diagram of the inside of the stadium and she tried to memorize the location of the cameras. She was reading through the case file again when she heard the exterior door at the end of the hall slam shut. She looked up making eye contact with a blonde about her own age and height. Her blue eyes were like lasers. Jamison had no doubt that this was TPD Officer Cannon and she quickly rose to her feet. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt with an open deep green button-down shirt covering a pistol holster either under her arm or in the small of her back. There was no hesitancy in her steps and she scanned the area around her as only a law enforcement officer would.
Jamison moved toward her. “Jamison Krews.”
“Heather Cannon.”
“Can I get you a drink, Officer Cannon?” Jamison stepped into the alcove leading to the stairs and fed coins into a machine.
“Heather is fine.” She nodded toward the machine. “Really?”
Jamison laughed, handing her a small cup, and then fed more coins in for a second cup. “What? It’s the best TU has to offer.”
Heather took a sip and frowned. “It’s more disgusting than I remembered.” She looked around her.
Jamison pointed down the hall to the metal trash can.
Heather toasted her with the cup. “Thanks but no thanks.”
She covered the distance to the can in three strides and dropped the small cup inside. She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms over her chest. “What can I do for you…and Flagler?”
Jamison took a sip of her coffee giving herself a minute to choose her words carefully. She didn’t want to alienate this woman. She needed her cooperation but clearly she was following orders to cooperate with the agent from Flagler. “I’ve read the reports but I wanted to get your observations in person.”
Heather shrugged. “I wasn’t called in until the quarterback was targeted so I haven’t had the case very long. Initially patrol officers handled it and unfortunately it was whoever happened to be on duty at the time.”
Jamison nodded. “Do you know if there were any cameras in the area where the bus was parked at the hotel?”
“That’s the first thing I checked. I tracked the bus from the garage until the team boarded Saturday morning and there was nothing. Though I’m told based on the cut it wouldn’t have made it to the hotel so it had to have been done while it was in the hotel parking lot.”
“And no cameras?”
“One side of the bus is in view and there was no one hanging around.”
Jamison downed the rest of her coffee. “Second cup is better.”
Heather grimaced.
“So any leads?”
“Nothing. I’ve been told the FBI has analyzed the notes but the paper and magazines could have come from any convenience store.”
“It feels like we’re waiting for him to make the next move and I don’t like that.”
“’Cause you’re the one walking around with the bait?” Heather smiled. “No, I guess that doesn’t feel very good. Is she cooperative?”
It was Jamison’s turn to shrug. “She has her moments.”
Heather handed Jamison her card. “My personal cell number is on it. Use it if you need to reach me and avoid the TPD switchboard.”
Jamison pulled a card from her wallet and handed it to Heather. “Please keep me updated.”
Heather nodded, giving her a mock salute as she walked away.
Jamison shut down her laptop and placed it back in her bag. She glanced at her watch and realized there would be no lunch again today. Tossing her empty coffee cup in the trash she returned to the vending machine and purchased two granola bars. She consumed one while she waited for Shea to finish her class.
Shea was the first one out of the classroom and her long legs carried her quickly down the hall. Jamison caught up with her as she exited the building. Shea glanced at her but didn’t slow down.
“Eat this.” Jamison passed her the granola bar.
Shea shook her head. “I don’t want that.”
“I didn’t ask if you wanted it. I just said to eat it.” When Shea didn’t make any move to take the bar, Jamison continued. “I haven’t seen you eat anything all day. You can’t keep going at this pace without food.”
Shea grabbed the bar, ripped it open and took two quick bites. “Happy now?”
When she nodded, Shea threw the remaining bar in a trash can as they passed.
Jamison shrugged. “Better than nothing.”
She saw a hint of a smile cross Shea’s face.
They entered the stadium and headed for the locker room. Jamison hung back letting Shea go straight to her locker to prepare for practice. After their talk last night, she wanted to make sure they were alone before she relaxed. Pulling out her pistol, she held it along her leg and out of Shea’s view. Slowly she walked around every corner of the locker room and into the showers also checking the supply closet Shea had been locked in. Then she holstered her pistol and returned to her seat in the corner. Shea wore white football pants with a full set of padding but only a black bra. Jamison was surprised to find Shea’s dark eyes watching her.
“Are we alone?” Shea asked.
Jamison nodded and her mouth went instantly dry as Shea unhooked her bra, tossing it in her locker and pulling a sports bra over her head. Jamison wrenched her eyes away from the small breasts but not before they were imprinted on her retinas. With a full smile Shea pulled on a skintight sports shirt, tucking it into her pants. She carried her cleats, shoulder pads with jersey and helmet in both hands and headed for the door.
Still stunned by the striptease she had to hurry to catch Shea in the hallway. Inside the men’s locker room, Jamison remained near the door with a clear view of Shea but not of the half-dressed men at their lockers. Shea took a seat in front of the whiteboard as she had the previous day and pulled off her socks. Within minutes Lynnette appeared and wrapped both ankles and one of her knees. At exactly two p.m. Coach Sutton stepped out of his office. There was no pep talk today, just straight to business. After a while, the players huddled for a prayer and then moved to the field.
Carlton was sitting in his same spot but before she could join him Coach Sutton sent the offensive line back to the locker room and Jamison followed. She watched Coach Sutton and one of his assistants draw lots of x’s and o’s all over the board but none of it made sense to her so she watched Shea instead. Shea never lost her concentration or took her eyes off the board. Finally Coach Sutton gestured them to the field and Jamison followed behind the players.
She easily located Carlton again and trotted up the stairs to join him. He acknowledged her arrival with a nod, his attention already focused on the players. She watched the offensive line walk through several of the new plays before lining up opposite the defense.
“Any developments?” Carlton asked.
J
amison shook her head. “Is there ever any security inside the stadium during the week?”
“Not enough manpower. Only the team is allowed in here and we do have cameras at all the entrances.”
“And none of the cameras caught anything when the notes were being left?”
Carlton turned to look at her. “Nothing. And I can’t figure out how they got in.”
Jamison was silent for a while. “Is there a delivery entrance for food and stuff?”
Carlton nodded. “Checked that one too.”
“And there is no other entrance?”
Carlton hesitated. “There’s a coach’s entrance but it has a punch code lock on the door.”
“Did you review that camera?”
“I didn’t. I just ruled it out since they couldn’t get past the locked door.”
She frowned. “But maybe he did.”
“I’ll review them after practice tonight.”
“Call me if you see anything, okay?”
He nodded.
Jamison returned her focus to the field as Shea took the ball from center and handed off to her running back. Seconds after the running back was tackled and several of the coaches had blown their whistles, a figure blew past the offensive line and tackled Shea. Jamison could hear the collision from where she was sitting and immediately jumped to her feet. Carlton placed a hand on her arm and pulled her back down but she didn’t take her eyes off the field. Several offensive linemen picked up the tackler, tossed him aside and pulled Shea to her feet. Jamison watched her closely and though she was standing on her own she seemed unable to catch her breath.
“That was a hard hit,” Jamison said under her breath.
“Yes, it was,” Carlton agreed. “And a late one too.”
Shea bent over at the waist and placed her hands on her knees. Then she stood straight up and looked at the player who had tackled her.
