6. Amber #2
“The beer doesn’t bother you, does it?” Aaron asked and did his best to hide his glass from view. It was a futile but appreciated attempt.
“Today was a bit rough, so it’s hard, but nothing I can’t handle.”
“Wait. Hold up. You’re saying you don’t drink? I’ve seen you do a keg stand for a full minute wearing a dress, Amber,” Jeff said, further solidifying his impression of me. “I call bullshit on you not drinking.”
My face burned red and I did my best to look confident. I straightened my shoulders and looked him head-on. “I don’t drink anymore .”
“Yeah, dude. She stopped in the fall. She’s been over to our parties and sober…
you’re dense sometimes, man.” Aaron took a sip of beer and the reasons why Jeff and I weren’t friends were like flashing neon lights.
I needed to steer clear of people who made me feel bad about myself, not spend more time around them, and the thought of walking away from the investigation crossed my mind.
But what if he’s right? The injuries are suspicious.
I sipped the hot brew and tried to think of any comeback that would work. Anything to make him feel bad. But my brain didn’t work like that. I’d think of the perfect zinger in four hours when it didn’t matter. The embarrassment of that being the old me was enough to have my neck burn for an hour.
“Hm,” was all Jeff said.
Like the bright shining star she was, Laney waltzed into the bar and distracted me from the shame of Jeff’s intense stare. “Laney!” I shouted at her.
She grinned at my booth mates and took her time talking with people as she walked over. Then, she lifted a finger telling us to wait a minute and went to the bar. Damn it. Guess I had to suffer in the awkward silence longer.
“Ah, shit.” Aaron narrowed his eyes toward the bar and took off, mumbling something along the lines of his sister. Jeff met my eyes and jutted his chin toward the pretty blonde getting hit on by a group of dudes.
“That’s his sister, Kenzie.”
“Yeah, I’ve met her a couple of times. When she was living in your room last year, actually.”
He made a face and laughed. “My room still has lingering girl smell in there.”
“Good. Boys stink.”
He turned his torso all the way to face me so our faces were just a foot apart and an amused, playful expression crossed his face. “Oh, really?”
“Yes. I have two brothers. They are gross.”
The playfulness left and the line between his eyebrows returned. “Older or younger brothers?”
“Both older.”
“They didn’t go to school here?”
“Nope.” They got to go to the private college in our hometown and live in a beautiful rented house that they trashed. “They stay in our hometown about three hours away.”
“Hm.”
I chose the silence to take another sip of coffee, feeling Jeff’s stare on my face. This scrutiny was new—yeah, I liked the wrong kind of attention my first three years in college, but having Jeff study me was nerve-wracking. He’s probably finding something wrong with me.
“Listen, before they get back, our hitting coach didn’t remember any of them. This man is like a steel-tank of memories, so this is really fucking weird.”
“None of the three who were injured?”
“Correct,” he said, lowering his voice and moving even closer to me. “That means these three punks were on the team but were injured before ever meeting the hitting coach? That seems shady as hell.”
Definitely shady as hell. “When you first signed, what was your experience? Did you meet the hitting coach before the season started?”
He frowned and ran his large hand over his jaw, not distracting me whatsoever.
Then he said, “I came out and visited the school a handful of times to make sure it was the right fit. Met the head coach and admired the hell out of him. He introduced me to his coaching staff—yes, the hitting coach was there because he intimidated me.”
“Are you sure there’s no way he just forgot? He could’ve met the kid once, right? He wouldn’t remember a single name when he works with hundreds of players.”
He groaned. “I get what you’re saying, but three different guys that were on the team? That’s not a coincidence.”
“You’re probably right.” I blew out a breath and tried to figure out what the right steps were. “Damn.”
“I’ll ask him how involved he is with the recruitment process.”
“Would that raise the alarm? What if he’s in on it?”
“Christ, I hadn’t thought of that.” Jeff ran his fingers through his hair, messing up the style he had, and a part of me felt bad for him. These were men he admired, looked up to, and worked with…and they could be involved in something huge?
Woah, woah. He blames me and Martin. Don’t forget.
I chewed on the side of my lip and grabbed a pen from my purse to jot down notes on the back of a napkin. If I didn’t write my thoughts, I’d lose them and Jeff leaned his shoulder into mine to see what I was writing. His body heat was hard to ignore but I succeeded for a couple of minutes.
What is the sports recruitment process? Is there a guide or rulebook we could read?
Who is safe to talk to about it?
How can we talk to those three kids without suspicion?
Follow the money.
I tapped my pen on the table when it hit me. The quickest way to find trends. “Jeff.”
“What?”
“There’s a list of all freshmen who were recruited and received spots this past year for each sport.
Being a writer makes it perfect for me to reach out to them asking about their experience, their background.
That sorta thing. A profile of athletes.
I could even stalk online to see who signed for this fall and reach out to them for a showcase or something. ”
“Brilliant. Yes. I’ll schedule it, hype it up like it’s a big deal to get interviewed.”
“Cool,” I said, just as Laney and Aaron returned to the table. Laney sat across from me and wiggled her eyebrows, looking between Jeff and me.
“You two look awful cozy. Things…seem to be heating up, huh?”