Zach’s time ran out.
He checked out of the hotel and caught the first flight that could get him to Cross by morning. The way he had it figured, he’d make it back in plenty of time to assess the damage and stop Abby before her afternoon flight. Twenty minutes outside of Chicago, the Captain came over the intercom.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’ve just received word that we are the last flight being allowed into or out of Detroit tonight due to the freezing rain. For those of you with connecting flights, we will do everything we can to accommodate your travel plans. I’m very sorry for the inconvenience. We will be landing in Detroit within the hour.”
Zach hit his fist into the empty seat beside him. Goddam bitch, he said to himself and laid his head back on the seat. He needed time to think. Somehow he had to stop her.
It was after noon when Zach’s plane touched down in Cross. The woman at the ticket counter recognized the Coach and offered him a cheerful hello.
Zach didn’t return the cheer. He blurted, “My wife bought a ticket on the afternoon flight to New York. What I wanna know is, can I still catch it, and if I can’t, when does it connect to New Orleans and what’s the gate number?”
The woman was stunned. She looked at him with the expression of a child who has just learned there is no Santa Claus.
“Now! I want to know now!” Zach shouted and slammed his fist on the counter, making the young woman jump back from her computer terminal.
The people in line that had formed behind him stared and whispered among themselves. “Isn’t that the football coach?” one of them said and nodded in Zach’s direction.
“Some manners,” another said.
“I guess when you think you’re a star, you think you can treat regular folks like dirt,” the first one said.
The counter woman gathered all her strength and remembered her training. The customer is always right, but never accept personal abuse. Remain calm. Kill them with kindness. Remain calm. Remain calm.
“I’ll check for you, sir,” she said and leaned toward him, lowering her voice and pasting a smile on her face. “However, if you shout at me, you’ll find that it will take a great deal longer.” She stared into Zach’s cold grey eyes and did not flinch.
Zach backed off. He sensed the mumbling behind him and suddenly realized he had created a public scene. Goddam Abby. This is all her fault, he thought.
“Sorry, miss, I’m just tired that’s all, dead tired.”
“Well, sir, it says here that Mrs. Trudeau cancelled her afternoon flight and booked a seat on the earlier one to New York. So she’ll be connecting to Atlanta and then on to New Orleans, arriving there just before five if nothing is delayed. And I’m sorry, but I don’t have an arrival gate number just yet.”
“Goddam it!” Zach growled and hit his fist on the counter again. He pushed away from the counter as if it were contaminated, grabbed his bag and ran outside to catch a cab.
“Up the hill. To the stadium,” he told the driver.
When Zach got out of the cab and handed the driver the fare and tip, he noticed the Cross Courier sports writer, Randy Dealle, talking with one of his players in front of the football offices. When Zach approached, Matt Roman saw him and looked at his feet, broke off the conversation and walked away.
“Hey, Matt,” Zach hollered. “How’s my star quarterback?”
Matt turned quickly, waved and yelled, “Got a class, Coach, gotta go.” He jogged away toward the arts quad.
“Zach, I’ve been looking for you; got a minute?” Randy asked.
“Nope,” Zach said flatly as he watched the reporter’s hungry face. “I just got in. I’ve been on one goddam joy ride all over the country trying to get back, and I need to take a piss. I’ll call you later, man.”
“But, what about...”
“I said, later, Randy. Now beat it, or I won’t call.” Zach scowled and hurried up the stone steps to his office with the reporter in tow.
“Up to you, Zach. Don’t say I didn’t try to get your side.”
“Fuck off, Dealle!” Zach said as he closed the door in Randy’s face.
The hallway was empty. Not even the volunteers were hovering about like they always did. The phones were ringing, but no one was answering them.
Zach felt like he was in the twilight zone—nothing was real, everything was upside down. The light was on in his office. He walked in, threw his bag down on his favorite easy chair and shut the door.
“Hello, Zach,” said Ric Houston from the chair behind Zach’s desk.
“Jesus Christ, Ric! What the hell are you trying to do, scare the shit out of me? Jesus!”
“Sorry. That wasn’t my intention. Sit down, Zach.”
“You’re in my chair.”
“Find another one.”
“So that’s how you think it is, huh? Well, I still call the plays in here.” Zach’s face had gone rigid. He stared at the Athletic Director as a tiger stares at its prey. His right eyebrow lifted halfway up his forehead and twitched.
“Not anymore, Zach. I am exercising my option to terminate your contract. There will be a press conference tomorrow morning, and you can either resign or be terminated.”
“You can’t get away with that, and you know it. Stuart will chew you up and spit you out like peanut shells, and besides, you got no grounds.”
“Don’t need any, but if it’s public grounds you want, it’s public grounds you’ll get. Shall we start with your recently departed secretary, or move on to your half-sister and dying son, or how about the cozy little orgy with Stuart in New York?”
Zach’s face turned a sick shade of pink putty and then had no color at all. But he didn’t wait to hear more. “Sister? Shit, I don’t have a sister. If my wife’s telling you this shit, she’s a liar! And crazy. She makes up stories to feed her fantasies. She’s a pitiful, whiny bitch. Since the accident, she’s been off the goddam wall, and you’ve been suckered in, big time, man. You’ve been after my ass for weeks for nothin’, goddam nothin’, and now you’re fallin’ for this shit! I can’t believe you, Houston. Ha! Wait ‘til Stuart hears this.” Zach leaned back in his chair and laughed like he’d just told the best dirty joke he’d ever heard.
“He already has.”
“Well, I bet he’s had a good laugh. Do you actually think anybody would believe any of this trumped up garbage? Jesus Christ, you gotta have a few marbles loose, man.” Zach was on a roll. He was almost believable.
“Nice try, Zach, but you lose. Stuart lost this round, and he knows it. I think maybe he wasn’t too interested in the fantasy about the orgy, but who knows, huh? Maybe, he just got busy with a new hobby. Back to the point, Zach, tomorrow it’s your choice; either resign or face the music. It won’t be pretty, but I guarantee you’ll suffer a lot more than I will. Take it or leave it. You’ve got until seven tomorrow morning to decide. Call me at home.”
Ric stood. “By the way, the staff won’t be back until after tomorrow noon. They’ve been told you’re leaving, and I gave them two days off. They’ve also been told not to talk to the press, or they’ll be fired on the spot. You’ve got less than twenty-four hours, Zach. Make it count.” Ric opened the door and indicated that Zach should leave.
“You’ll live to regret this, Houston. Until my dying day, I’ll be watching you, and you’ll pay,” Zach sneered as he brushed by him.
Ric Houston stopped and looked at Zach. For the first time, Zach seemed very small. “I already regret it, Zach. You were one hell of a coach.”
Zach slung his bag over his shoulder and walked to the local college bar, ordered a boilermaker and tossed it down. He ordered another and another. He reached into his pocket, dug out a quarter and called Stuart, collect.
“Zach, is that you, buddy boy?” Stuart asked.
“You know goddam well it’s me, and Houston just gave me an ultimatum. What the hell is going on?”
“I tried, Zach. I did everything I could, but Houston’s smart. He lined up everybody
but the pope on his side, and Gaston’s caved. But he’ll pay, I promise you that. He’ll rue the day he sold you down the river.”
“I can’t believe this! You mean you’re gonna let him just dump me, dump us, the program? Stu, what the hell?” Zach was pounding his fist into the brick wall behind the pay phone.
“Listen, man, go home and cool off. We’ll talk about it more tomorrow. I got a meeting I have to get to. I’ll call you. Listen, you make sure you resign. Don’t let the son-of-a-bitch fire you. We don’t need any of this to get nasty and in the press, now do we?”
“I don’t have a home, for chrissake! But you prob’ly know that, too. She emptied me out. Knowing her, I probably don’t even have a phone on the wall. Stu, can’t you send one of your pals to pick her up and bring her back? There’s still time. She can fix this. All she has to do is tell Houston she lied to get attention, or because she was mad or somethin’. Then I can talk sense into her and....”
“It’s too late, man. Just keep your mouth shut about it and resign. I’ll take care of you. Trust me. Gotta go. Call me tomorrow.” Click.
Zach held the phone in his hand. He looked at it like he had never seen such a thing before. His mouth fell open, and he leaned against the wall to keep from falling down.
Stuart had sold out.
He found another quarter and dialed again. “Can you pick me up?” he asked Bobbie Jansen. “Sure, honey, where are you?”
“The Circuit. I gotta talk to you, and we gotta go up to the house.”
“The house? Your house?”
“Yeah, she’s left town.”
“For how long?”
“For good, I think.”
“Well, well, now you’re talkin’, big boy! What shall I bring?”
“How ‘bout you bring some booze, a few blankets and some glasses, and hurry.”
“I’ll be right there, honey. Hang on to your knickers for just a few. Bye.”
Bobbie hung up and shrieked with glee. She’d been waiting a long time for this, three years to be exact. She’d given up her puppy-dog husband, her job and her track house for him. But it was worth it. Now, she’d have the big man all to herself, she’d have her mansion on the mountain, and she’d be the one everyone adored. Good riddance to Abigail Trudeau. She lost, too bad, ha! And Zoe was already in her grasp, cake in her hands. Bobbie Jansen was ready to hang her trophy. She’d paid her dues, and now she’d won first prize.
What a fine day, she said to herself as she looked out the window of her apartment.
Bobbie pulled up to the curb, and Zach flew out of The Circuit Tavern. He jumped in beside her and threw his bag in the back seat. She leaned over to kiss him, but he seemed absorbed.
“What’s wrong, honey? You don’t miss her, do you?”
“I don’t wanna talk just yet, baby; let’s just get up the mountain.”
“Whatever you say. I brought scotch and wine and some munchies. I thought you might be hungry, for food I mean,” she giggled. And...I brought the big ol’ sheepskin you bought. How’s that?” Bobbie drove on.
“Fine, yeah, perfect, Bob.” Zach looked out the window as they ascended the mountain road to his house, the house he and Abby built, the house he was still paying for, the empty house.
They pulled into the driveway. Zach noticed that the Jeep was gone. “Goddam it! She prob’ly left the car at the airport.”
“We’ll get it later, honey. Relax,” Bobbie said as she stroked his leg.
“Yeah, okay.”
He pulled out his house key and opened the front door. He hadn’t been prepared for this. His jaw dropped open, and he spun around, looking up and down the walls, the halls. He ran upstairs, leaving Bobbie alone in the foyer and saw his bed, still made, sitting like an island in the ocean, all peach and cold and oddly out of place in the barren house. Zach shivered. It was then that he realized there was no heat. He turned on the light switch. Nothing. He flushed the toilet, and it only half filled.
“Well, you’ve really done it haven’t you, Abby?” he said to the bare walls. “I bet you had quite a good laugh. Well, this isn’t even close to over. For starters, I’m gonna do her in your precious house. Ha!”
Bobbie walked into the bedroom.
“Who are you talking to, honey? A ghost?”
“Yeah, you could say that. Do you believe this shit?”
“Well, look at it this way. She left the most important piece of furniture, and we can start all over and do it the way we want it.” Bobbie Jansen wiggled over to Zach and hugged him. “It’s all ours now, honey, just yours and mine.”
“Let’s start a fire. It’s colder than a witch’s tit in here.”
“Oh, what a nice idea! You do that, and I’ll go get the blankets and sheepskin out of the car.” She started to go.
Zach grabbed Bobbie’s arm and pulled her back. “I’ve been wantin’ to take you in front of the fire for years.” He kissed her hard.
“Oh, Zachy, I can’t wait. Let’s go!” Bobbie grabbed his hand and pulled him down the stairs.
He got the fire blazing, and it warmed the immediate area enough to take off the chill. Zach laid down while Bobbie poured them each a drink.
“To us,” she said, clinking her glass to his. Zach joined her and swallowed his tall Scotch in three gulps. “Hey, slow down, honey, we got all the time in the world,” Bobbie said.
Zach leaned over her and forced her down on the rug. He pulled her shirt open and groped at her breasts. Bobbie responded immediately. He pulled down his pants as she undressed. Zach was panting and groping and trying to enter her the way he always did.
“What’s wrong, honey?” she said.
“Big boy’s shy today, I guess.” Zach was hovering above her, looking down at his body and dismayed by what he saw. “Jesus, this has never, ever, happened before.”
“Well, it’s just all the excitement and being here in the cold, that’s all. Don’t worry, I’ll fix it.” Bobbie rolled over and urged him down on the rug. She moved her head lower and lower, knowing that her ability to send him to nirvana had never failed—until now.
“You’re just tired, honey,” she said. “We’ll try again later.”
Zach pulled on his pants and poured himself another drink. He looked at the fire and said, “Houston’s gonna fire me tomorrow if I don’t resign.”
“What!”
“You heard me. It’s got to do with us and some cockamamie stories my conveniently departed wife told him.”
“Us? I don’t even work there anymore. They can’t prove anything anyway, unless Sam, you don’t think he? Oh, my God!” Bobbie covered her mouth with her hand and cocooned inside a blanket.
“So, no job, no house, no nothin’. And Stuart’s gone turncoat on me. Looks to me like all we got is each other and my daddy’s inheritance to live on ‘til I get another job coachin’.”
Bobbie Jansen became very quiet. She looked at the fire and at Zach looking at the fire. She put her clothes on and said, “I’m going for a ride. I’ll come back in a little while and pick you up to get the Jeep. I need some time. See ya later.” Bobbie stood up and put on her coat.
“Hey, wait a minute! Don’t leave me alone. Stay with me, baby; I feel like shit.”
“I’ll be back. Just relax.”
Zach grabbed her hand, and she pulled it loose. “See ya,” she said.
He stared after his mistress, and then he hissed at his wife as if she could hear him. “I s’pose you’re laughin’ your ass off right now, huh? I can’t even get it up. Bet you’d like that. Goddam frigid bitch. What you gonna do next, huh? Chop it off? I can’t believe you did this to me. Shit!” Zach spit on the quarry tile.
Bobbie Jansen got in her car and headed down Shay Mountain.
CHAPTER 44
Mesmerized by the fire and weary from the hours of turmoil, Zach fell into a deep sleep. He woke from the cold. The fire had gone out, and it was nearly dark. His feet were numb, as were his hands and cheeks. The house echoed fro
m the lack of warmth, and Zach’s bones ached. He looked at his watch and wondered why Bobbie had been gone so long. Like a homeless wanderer, he wrapped himself in a blanket and shuffled out to the garage, hoping that Abby had left his kerosene heater. He squinted in the failing light and felt around with his hands. He remembered it had been near the back door.
At first, he thought it was just the wind; then he thought it was Bobbie coming back to get him and he was relieved. Zach looked up, trying to make out the shadow that stood in the pale light that seeped through the dusty garage windows.
“Bob? Is that you? What took you so long? Jesus, I’m cold. Let’s go.”
“It’s me, Zach,” the shadow said.
“You? What are you doin’ here?” Zach stopped moving forward.
“I want to talk, Zach. Let’s talk about your life, shall we?” The voice was low and steady.
“What for? I got nothin’ to say. What’s done is done.”
“Not quite. You see, I want to know you’re done messin’ up other people’s lives. I want some justice, Zach. Understand?”
“Understand? Ha. Understand this. You’re on my property. Get off and get out.”
“Looks like you’re all alone up here, Zach. You don’t like being all alone, do you? Well, I’ll keep you company for a while.” The shadow moved closer. First it only had a voice. Now it had a hand and the hand held a gun.
Zach saw the gun as the last remnant of daylight reflected off the shiny shaft. “Now, don’t do somethin’ you’ll regret. We can talk about this, reasonable like.”
“Too late, Zach. I want you to pay for what you’ve done to me.”
“Okay, okay. Look, put that thing down. You might hurt somebody, and you’re not the type to do that.”
“No? Would you bet your life on it, Zach?”
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