Impulsive (24 page)

"Scout's honor."

When she told him, Alan whooped. "It figures," he said,
"and it fits. I'd have hit on the right answer sooner or later."

"Maybe," Jess conceded. "You did come close a
couple of times."

Finished with their own practice, she and Alan stayed to watch the
rest of the team. After pacing the sidelines for several minutes, Alan loped back
to the bench, where Jess was seated.

"Can I borrow your car? They shorted us on our delivery of
Gatorade this week, and we're running low. Coach Danvers wants me to run down
to the warehouse distributor's and pick some up. Trouble is, I rode my motorcycle
today."

Jess dug into her pocket for her keys, handing them out to him.
"Don't speed," she warned.

Alan laughed. "In that tinker toy? You've got to be kidding.
I can peddle that fast!"

"Wisenheimer," she grumbled. Then she tossed him her red
WAGARA hat. "It's yours. Wear it in good health."

Forty-five minutes later, the rest of the team headed for the
lockers, and Danvers approached Jess. "Where's Crumrine?"

Jess shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine, Coach. How far
is that warehouse, anyway?"

"About six blocks away. He should have been back by now. I
hope he didn't get into an accident."

"Me, too," Jess added. "He borrowed my car."

"Well, there's your answer, then," Danvers replied.
"The danged heap probably conked out on him halfway there."

Jess scowled. "I wish you guys would all stop ragging on my
car."

By the time another quarter-hour had gone by, with no Alan, Jess
was really beginning to worry. "Did you give him explicit
directions?" she asked Danvers. "Maybe he got lost. Do you think we
ought to send someone to look for him?"

"He's been there before, Jess. He knows where it is. He's
probably just out joyriding."

"In
my
car?" Jess exclaimed incredulously.

Danvers just grinned. "Chances are, he's just stuck in
traffic. If he's not back soon, we'll send out a search party."

As it was, the search party came to them, in the form of two
uniformed patrolmen. Jess took one look at their grim faces and knew the news
was not good. She just hoped Alan hadn't gotten himself into anything too
serious.

"Anyone here know an Alan Crumrine?" the first officer
inquired.

Danvers stepped forward. "Yes, sir. He's our kicker. I'm
Coach Danvers. Has Alan been arrested or something?"

"No, sir. There's been an incident, and we need to notify his
family. Also, he was driving a car registered to a Jessica Myers. We need to
locate her, too."

"I'm right here," Jess said, approaching closer.
"If that's
what's wrong, Alan didn't steal my car. I loaned it to him a little
while ago."

"Ma'am." The policeman nodded toward her, tipping his
cap. "I'm afraid your car is being impounded, pending an investigation.
It'll be a few days, at least, before we can release it to you."

"But, why? What's this all about?" Jess questioned with a
frown. "Was there an accident? Was Alan cited?"

"Does he need bail? Or a lawyer?" Danvers asked.

By now, some of the players had emerged from the locker room and
were milling around curiously.

"Don't tell me he's not going to be able to play this
weekend," one groaned. "We're short-handed already."

"Yeah," another fellow added, "and Miller can punt,
but he can't kick worth a darn, and he's our only back-up kicker. No offense,
Miller, but it's the truth."

"I'd suggest your punter bone up real fast, then," the
officer told them gravely, "because Mr. Crumrine won't be playing for the
Knights again."

The color drained from Jess's face. Ty grabbed her from behind.
"Oh, God! How badly is he hurt?"

"He's dead, ma'am," the man replied. "I'm sorry to
be so blunt about it, but there's no easy way to say it."

"How?" Ty queried. "A traffic accident, I
suppose?"

"As far as we can tell, he was the victim of a drive-by
shooting."

Jess inhaled on a gasp, her color fading even more.

"We can't tell you any more at this point, but we'll be
investigating further. Meanwhile, we need to notify his next of kin. He had his
team membership on him, along with his driver's license, which led us here
after no one answered at his home address. But his I.D. didn't list any other
names or addresses for close family."

"Those would be listed on his personnel record," Danvers
said weakly, as shocked as the rest of the team. "I'll show you up to the
office."

The two officers followed Danvers, as others stood dumbly,
like
a small herd of mute cattle. Finally, the murmurs began, and built, as the
players voiced their stunned disbelief.

Ty led Jess to a bench and lowered her onto it. "Put your
head between your knees, hon," he urged. "It'll get the blood flowing
to your head again."

She fought the hand he pressed to the back of her head. Tears
choked her as she exclaimed softly, "Somebody please tell me this is all a
bad dream—that I'll wake up and none of this will be real. Oh, God, Ty! Not
Alan. Not sweet, gullible Alan, with all his wisecracks and practical
jokes."

"I know, sweetheart, I know. I'm having trouble believing it,
too. Lord, it's like this whole damned team is living under a jinx. Some sort
of weird witch's spell or something. It's just been one disaster on top of
another. And it scares the hell out of me to think you might have been driving
that car. That you could have been the one shot and killed."

"I should never have loaned it to him," she said.
"If I hadn't, he'd probably still be alive."

"If that's the case, then Danvers should never have sent him
on that errand to begin with," Ty injected. "No, Jess, there's just
no way to foresee these things, especially something as unpredictable as a
drive-by shooting. It's just that we feel so helpless at times like this, that
we can't help but wonder if it could have been avoided."

She gave a shuddering sob. "I suppose so."

That night, after Ty had plied her with wine and a long soak in
the hot tub, and tucked her into bed, Jess's nerves finally began to unwind.
Unfortunately, her mind wouldn't follow suit. Her thoughts kept leaping back to
Alan. "Did I tell you he actually kicked ten goals in succession today,
for the first time? I was so proud of him, and he was on top of the world. Full
of
himself, and rightly so, and demanding his reward—to know what WAGARA
meant."

"Did you tell him?"

Jess smiled sadly. "Yes. Then I gave him my hat. That's how
I'll remember him, just as I last saw him, I suppose. Strutting off, wearing
that stupid cap like it was some kind of jeweled crown he'd won." She
started to cry again. "Damn! It's not fair, Ty! He was so young! He had
his whole life ahead of him!"

In the wake of Alan's death, Tom Nelson immediately apologized to
Jess for their earlier tiff. He showed up at Ty's house the next morning.
"Honey, when I think that could have been you in that car instead of Alan,
why it just sends chills up my spine," he told her, giving her a big hug.
"What's the matter with the world today? Is everyone going crazy? Why,
it's not even safe to walk out and get your mail anymore!"

Jess, her eyes still red and swollen from crying, hugged him back.
"I know, Tommy. It's awful. I feel just terrible about Alan. He was such a
good kid, with loads of potential."

"Uh... what about your car? I hear it's been impounded."

"So they tell me, but I'm not sure I'd ever be able to drive
it again when they do release it. Not after..."

"I understand, Jessie. So, what are you going to do for transportation?"

"That's where I come in, at least for the time being,"
Ty spoke up. "In a few days, when Jess is up to it, we can see if her
insurance company will cover some of the cost of a replacement. Then Jess can
shop around for a new car."

"Have you heard anything else from the police?" Tom
asked. "Have they caught the guys who did this?"

Ty shook his head. "Not a word, have you?"

"No, but Alan's parents have arrived from Pennsylvania. We're
trying to set up a team memorial service before they
take
his body home to Erie. Most likely, it will be some time tomorrow, probably
early afternoon. I'll let you know."

Tom turned to Jess. "I guess this just proves all over again
how suddenly those we love can be taken from us, and it made our little spat
the other day seem so ridiculous by comparison. I hope you'll forgive me, Jess.
I didn't mean half of what I said then. I've just been under a lot of stress
lately, with Anita and all."

Jess nodded. "It's all right, Tommy."

"When I told you I didn't want you coaching Alan anymore, I
certainly never meant for anything this horrible to happen," he went on.
"Sometimes you really do have to be careful what you ask for, I guess.
What a shame it all ended this way, but at least you won't be hanging around
the team and the stadium so much. With all the disasters that have taken place
lately, involving the Knights, I'll feel better knowing you're nowhere near,
should any other tragedy arise."

Almost happy to be consigned to the rank of spectator again, Jess
was supremely surprised when Coach Danvers and one of the team owners
approached her and Ty at the end of Alan's memorial service. "Jess, I
believe you've met Keith Forsyth."

Jess shook the man's hand. "Mr. Forsyth. It's good of you to
come today. Alan would have been honored, I'm sure."

"It's the least I could do," Forsyth commented gravely.

Danvers spoke up again. "Jess, I realize this isn't the time
or place, but what we have to propose won't wait. We'd like to offer you the
kicking position with the Knights."

Ty's jaw sagged in surprise. Jess felt as if she'd just had the
air punched out of her. As they stood, too stunned to speak, Danvers added
hastily, "It's what Alan would have wanted, I think."

"But... is that allowed?" Jess stammered. "For a
woman to play on a pro team?"

"It would undoubtedly be a first," Ty said, his mind
reeling. "Knowing Jess's skill, I certainly wouldn't object. It's for
certain we need a good kicker, and she's the best. But some of the other guys
might not cotton to the idea too well."

"We've considered all that, and we've gone over the rules
with a fine-tooth comb. There is nothing that states that a woman cannot join a
professional football team," Forsyth alleged. "In fact, the equal
rights people will probably dance in the streets over this. Also, we've already
asked some of the team members how they'd feel about it. The majority agree
with you, Ty. Acquainted with Jess and her kicking ability, most are in favor
of the idea."

"That's all well and good, but it's still so...
unconventional," Jess claimed, for lack of another word. "I'm just
not sure the world is ready for a female football player."

"As I said, I think Alan would approve heartily,"
Danvers repeated. "He idolized you, Jess."

Jess was all the more confused. "In some way, I do feel I owe
him. He was driving my car when he was killed, after all."

"Now, Jess, let's not go through all that again," Ty
told her. "You're not responsible for what happened to him."

"Suppose I did take the job," Jess suggested
thoughtfully. "Would I sign a contract, like anyone else?"

"Of course," Forsyth said. "If it meets with your
approval, we're prepared to offer you the same salary and bonuses Alan
had."

"Could we stipulate that half of the money be donated to set
up a college fund in Alan's name?" Jess proposed.

Forsyth's eyes widened in wonder. "Jess, that's more than
generous, but you don't have to do that. No one would expect you to give up
half your earnings."

"That's the only way I'll agree," she insisted.
"Otherwise, it's no deal."

"We accept," Danvers said hastily, "and thank
you." He grabbed her hand, pumping it up and down with grateful vigor.
"I don't know where we'd have found another kicker of your caliber on such
short notice. If you'll drop by my office this
afternoon,
I'll have that contract ready for you to sign, and we'll find a uniform to fit
you. You will be ready to play this Sunday, I hope."