Be Mine (Jackson Boys 2)

I make a show of checking my watch. “I don’t know.” I can’t appear too eager.

“Come on. One beer. Off the record, if you like,” he presses, glee and desperation dancing a salsa below the surface.

One puzzle piece shoved into place. I hide my satisfaction behind a frown. “How about three? Over at the pub on El Segundo?”

If Williams wonders why I suggest a place so far from the training facility, he doesn’t show it. His professional mask is now firmly in place. “I’ll see you there.”

William’s speculative gaze follows me down the hall as I make my way to the training rooms to push the second piece into place. Coach Zupp is bent over a table, his head close to Doc Vishwanath as they look over some player’s chart. I clear my throat.

Coach looks up in irritation. “What is it, Jackson?”

“Need a minute.”

He waits for me to tell me what it is. I tip my head toward the doc, indicating I’d like the meeting to be alone.

Coach sighs and straightens. “Let me know if anything changes.”

Dr. V gathers up the files, gives me a warm smile, and leaves.

“So this all right here or do we need to go to my office?”

“We can use Dr. V’s office,” I reply and walk over to hold the door of the office open for Coach.

He ambles over reluctantly and takes a seat. “You unhappy with the set plays for Sunday?”

“Nope. They’re all good for me.” I sit down across from him, slim file in my lap.

Zupp’s shoulders relax. “Then what’d you want to see me about?”

“It’s about Chip Peters.”

Zupp’s eyebrows gather together. “What about him?”

“He needs to go.” I toss the folder into Coach’s lap. He catches it in surprise. “Go on,” I encourage. “Take a look.”

The investigative report that Tom prepared has no names, merely ages, dates, times, locations, and genders. The pictures included all have the faces pixelated with the exception of Chip’s.

Coach’s face goes from blustery red to chalk white. “What the hell is this?”

“This is the tip of the iceberg that our expensive, state-of-the-art ship is heading toward. We either get rid of the iceberg or suffer a fatal crash,” I say bluntly.

“How’d you get this?”

“I paid an investigator to look into it.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to win.” I don’t specify what I want to win at. Let Coach draw his own conclusions. “And this is going to keep us from winning. I thought I’d bring it to you before I go to the front office.” In other words, if Coach doesn’t immediately fire Chip, then I’m taking it up the ladder, and the front office guys are not going to like it.

“So I fire him? Right in the middle of the season?” Coach Zupp starts sweating.

“You fire him,” I confirm.

“When?”

“Today.”

“Today?” He balks. “We have our first game in two days. The distraction will be…”

“I’m meeting with Garrett Williams today at three. If I don’t hear that Chip’s been fired by that time, this entire file—” I tap the folder on his knees. “This entire file will be given to Williams.”

“Our team could suffer. Let’s get with PR to see how we should best handle this,” Coach suggests.

I get to my feet. “You have until three.”

And then I walk out.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Lainey

“They told him that if he wants to spend the entire time drawing with one crayon then that’s what we should let him do. He’s ten, for crying out loud! What happened to math and science?” The second Mrs. Ledet, Emily, rants on about the first Mrs. Ledet’s choice of schooling. The Ledets are new clients of Charlotte’s, and since she’s with her new husband, I’m taking point.

I adjust the volume in my headset. “That doesn’t sound productive.”

Despite wife number two’s relatively young age, twenty-one, she does have a point. The Meditative New School for Youth sounds ridiculously unfocused, but since the ten-year-old isn’t hers, she doesn’t have much of a say in where he goes to school. While counselor isn’t an official part of my job description, being good listeners is part of why we get repeat business.

Emily rants for a few more minutes. As she winds down, I jump in with a suggestion. “Why don’t I set up some science camps for next summer? Maybe a father/son one so the two guys can spend some time together before Simon has to go off to training camp.”

“That’s a great idea,” Emily pauses, and then in a small voice says, “I’ll never remember, though.”

I scribble a note. “Not to worry. That’s why you have Forget Me Not. We’ll take care of everything.”

The doorbell rings, saving me from any more discussion with Emily. “There’s someone at the door, Emily. I’ve got to run, but I promise that I’ll set up the summer camps.”

“Oh, wait, we didn’t get to the last item on my list,” she protests. “I want to have holiday lights for the house. All white, large bulbs. One of the ladies at the club told me everyone in the homeowners association does them. They use a company called Lights On. This will be our first Christmas here and if we don’t participate, I know they’ll talk about us!”