Chapter 42
Luke
Yeah, it might seem odd that I’d get back at my sister by getting myself arrested and putting my career in jeopardy. But the more I thought it out, the more sense it made.
When Trinity showed me the security video, when I realized what Allison had done, the idea came to me.
Yes, I was furious with her. Yes, part of the plan was to get back at my sister.
That part would be easy. Trinity had the video of Allison planting the pills, and her DNA and fingerprints would be all over the contraband. Allison would be caught dead to rights.
But someone had to drive that car when the police pulled it over. Who would be crazy enough to do that?
Well, how about someone who was ready to leave Mortimer, who didn’t want to preside over a baseball factory, who wanted to move on to the next reclamation project—but who didn’t know how to hand the program off to his trusted assistant, Alan McIntyre?
See, that had been my problem. I had planned to leave Mortimer after last season, but I knew the chancellor would name his buddy as the next coach, not Alan.
That was unacceptable to me. Alan deserved the chance, and the team deserved Alan.
I couldn’t leave the program knowing that they’d toss Alan aside.
I could bring Alan with me, but he’d moved around so much while in the minor leagues; he and his wife had finally planted roots here.
So suddenly, I had an opportunity. If I got caught with the pills in the car, just before the season was to begin, the chancellor would have his excuse to get rid of me, but it would be too close to the start of the season for him to name anyone but Alan as the interim coach.
Alan would have this year to prove himself, with probably the best Division III team in the country.
And me? Well, sure, I’d have a few weeks of bad publicity.
But then it would all come out—the video of Allison, the DNA and fingerprint results.
And I knew that Allison had somehow tipped off the police to be looking for Trinity’s car—I figured that would eventually come out, too.
It would be clear for all to see that Allison had tried to set up Trinity.
Meaning I would not merely be acquitted—I would be publicly exonerated, a victim, not a criminal.
I’d lose a season of coaching, but I’d catch on somewhere the next year, I had no doubt.
I didn’t see a hole in the plan. Still, we tested things out first. We removed the drugs from the car right away, of course.
Trinity drove the car around for a couple weeks, as she normally would, waiting for the local cops to pull her over.
They never did. That confirmed for me what I’d thought all along—the car would be stopped on the highway on the way to Olivet Nazarene.
Allison herself had said that weekday highway driving was the m.o.
of drug traffickers. So then I just had to pick a Monday, close to the start of the season, to drive on the interstate.
Presidents’ Day was two weeks before the start of the season.
I put the Oxy in one of Allison’s bags, tossed in a tube of her lipstick, threw the bag in the trunk, and drove to Olivet Nazarene.
Audacious, I realize. But it worked. Alan is the coach. I will be exonerated soon.
And Allison? She’ll pay a heavy price for fucking with other people’s lives.