The Mystery of Jessica Benson (11 page)

James was laughing when Kyle got to him. “Don’t I
always make you look good, white boy?”
“Can’t think of where I’d be without you, man!”
Coach Raymond approached the players in the end zone
and blew his whistle to hustle the rest of the players over. “Y’all
gonna go on the rest of the night giggling like little girlies?”
One of the players muttered “Fuck you,” and Raymond
glared in his direction. Kyle spoke up in an attempt to stop the
coach from flying into one of his all too frequent rages.
“Coach!” he laughed. “How much longer you think the
defense can hang on? We’ve beaten the shit out of them up and
down the field and they’re just flat out collapsing from
exhaustion. How about giving us a break here so they can go
soak their corns and get their beauty sleep?”
The Coach looked down and spit. “Shit — you pussies
have one good practice and you wanna be molly-coddled. But
because I’m such a great guy, and you
did
have a half-way
decent scrimmage by the by. I just might call it a day.”
Then looking in Kyle’s direction, “I was wondering if
you’d ever get back in sync. You did okay for a change.” He
stopped long enough to hack up a wad of his chewing tobacco,
then looked back to the team and continued. “But one day ain’t
enough, y’hear? You gotta take some of this chemistry you’re
feeling out here on the practice field and make sure it’s with you
during the games. You guys’d better be directing all your energy
to pulling it out on Sunday. We’re gonna take it one game at a
time here, so keep your noses clean and your minds on football.”
Again, to Kyle, who was still smiling, “You’re treading
some deep fucking water, boy — on and off the field.” He took a
deep breath and gave Kyle a big, nasty leer. He then blew his
whistle and motioned with his arms that practice was over.
The players took off before he could change his mind.
Except for Tyrell Utley, who stood off to the side with a sour
look on his face and hatred in his eyes. He stayed there on the
fifty yard line quietly watching the starting quarterback and
Lundy head for the locker room.
Unaware of Utley, James and Kyle continued their trek
inside. Lundy smacked the goal post as he walked by and said,
“Fuckin’ Coach, man. He always got something to say to you.
That prick knows what you’re going through and still he makes
sure to find a happy place up your ass every chance he gets.”
Kyle laughed. “Yep. You got that right. He can’t wait
for me to fuck up so he can put his boy Utley in my slot. He’ll
have to get over it though—I’m gonna finish this season and I’m
gonna finish it playing ball.”
James nodded. “The whole team’s behind you. You
know that, right? None of us wants to see Tyrell take over. He’s
a bigger dickhead on the field than he is off, if that’s possible.
He doesn’t know shit about being a team player, just knows how
to showboat and make himself the star.
I can run it! I can throw
it! All eyes on me
! That gets old real fast. Receivers start
dropping balls. O-Line breaks down a little here, a little there.
QB starts getting sacked more. Nothing a united group of players
can’t handle. The punk’ll get the message fast — or he won’t be
healthy enough to play the game too long.”
He looked at his best friend who was not looking back at
him. James stopped walking, and when Kyle halted as well
Lundy reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. “You gotta
know that no one takes you for having done Jessica, man. They
believe in you off the field as well as on the field. Everyone of us
would rather have a new coach than a new quarterback.”
Kyle gave James a brooding smile. “Too bad everyone
doesn’t feel that way. I got that crackhead cop looking to take
me down. He gets his way, the case is closed and my butt’s
sitting on death row.” After a long breath, Kyle asked, “So, boss,
where do we go from here?”
James was quiet for a minute and then said, “Well, I got
it in my head that it’s about time we paid Mr. Arnold a visit,
huh? I’m thinking there’s something there and we ought to make
damn good and sure he shares whatever he knows with us and
the cops.” The two resumed walking.
“Sounds good to me. Let’s get cleaned up.”

A
guy growing up in a small town had to be a jock, part of a
sports team, to be accepted. At least that is what Luke Arnold
believed. Big and too slow to play ball, he made up his mind he
would do whatever he had to for that acceptance. He got his
chance when the football team’s water boy graduated.

He pretended the abuse from the players — the catcalls
of ‘bench-mopper’ and other delectable expletives — were in
good fun. He quietly suffered the smirks and wisecracks from
the rest of the student body—willing himself to believe they
were just jealous of him. He was a sullen kid who rarely smiled
in classes or outside of school, but grinned continuously when on
the football field. It never mattered to him that his job was rarely
acknowledged, save for an occasional player’s nod or an
occasional “Thanks, Arn.”

In his senior year he wrote to every pro team in the
league offering to work in any staff position available. Most of
the teams failed to respond; others sent him routine regrets that
he was either not qualified for any openings they had or
suggesting he try to find volunteer positions, perhaps with
college teams. Routine form letters from schools all over the
country informed him they used student interns for adjunct and
volunteer positions. Out of desperation he enrolled in a local
community college where he once again watered and cleaned up
after players.

He checked the bulletin boards in the gym daily, praying
his dream job would be posted. His frustration mounted as he
neared the end of his two year stint at the junior college. There
was no way he could get into a decent university with his grades.
In fact, it was through the benevolence of his history professor
that he was even getting his associate degree.

A week after graduation he got the call that changed his
life. One of the community college coaches called him to say
that the Demons in Miami were paying minimum wage for
assistants to the equipment manager. Luke immediately called
and was told to send his resume. It took nearly three weeks
before they contacted him and invited him down for an
interview. He used all his savings for the plane ticket. His
determination paid off. He got the job.

Within days of the interview he moved to South Florida
and found an apartment not far from the team complex in a
neighborhood that had yet to see signs of regentrification. That
was okay for Luke, though, because he had no intention of
spending time there for anything but sleep.

For the next five and a half years he washed jocks’ socks
and jock-straps. He never complained and every morning he
looked forward to the smell of stale sweat in the locker room. He
accepted whatever the players handed out and spent too many
lonely nights at home.

Eventually his loyalty was rewarded and he was
promoted to assistant manager of the equipment staff. The
promotion gave him the opportunity to travel with the team. He
was sure he had finally found his niche. Throughout the
remainder of that season Luke made himself indispensable to the
players and the coaches. Whenever the opportunity presented
itself, he was there to run an errand, take care of someone’s kids
or even wash cars. He befriended the trainers, hung with the
ticket staff and silently swooned over the cheerleaders. It was
another three years, though, before he realized his goal.

In Luke’s eighth season with the team, the head coach
asked to meet with him privately. He told him how highly the
team valued his service and what a huge asset he was to the
Demons’ staff. He waxed on about Luke’s dedication to the team
as well as his initiative and continuing efforts to run interference
for the players.

The bottom line of all the praise was that the Demons
needed a full-time security man. Luke would be the head coach’s
bodyguard and chief of player security. Every non-football
problem associated with the team — any kind of trouble,
including arrests — was now his responsibility. He would later
laugh when telling someone his job was basically
bailing players
out of jail in the middle of the night and keeping them out of the
news
. The irony of that, of course, was that was exactly what he
did.

After showering, dressing and bullshitting with some of
the other players, James and Kyle headed over to the staff
offices. Everyone knew Arnold stayed late every night, claiming
he needed the time to catch up with his paper work. The truth
was he had nowhere to go and no one to go there with. Everyone
knew that, too.

Lucas looked up from his computer after quickly trying
to click down the porn site he was watching, and gave the
players a big welcoming smile. “Hey, guys. What’s going on?”

James returned the smile, but his was not pleasant.
“That’s just what we’ve come to talk to you about, Arnold.”
Luke chuckled and squirmed just a little, but when he
spoke, his words reflected little amusement. “Whatever you
need, you know that ’ol Luke’s your man, right?”
James got right up in the big man’s space and he
immediately slumped down in his chair. “I’m gonna say it to you
one time, you fat tub of shit. Fuck with us and you’ll see a side
of me that’ll rattle your goddamned soul. Answer our questions
honestly and you’re home free. Are you clear on that?”
Lucas was actually trembling and nodded feebly.
“What’s this about, guys? I mean, what, uh, is there a problem
— you know —”
James jumped over Luke’s words, “Shut up and you’ll
find out what the problem is.”
Arnold slumped in his seat and looked at the two
players expectantly. Lundy shot Kyle a self-satisfied grin and
continued. “Now what’s this I’m hearing about you and the late
Jessica Benson? You and she had a little thing going, or what?”
Arnold’s jaw dropped. He was not feigning his shock.
“Jessica and me? Ha! That’s a laugh-and-a-half. You guys’re
goofing on me, right?” He punctuated his sentence with a fart,
and the rancid odor immediately permeated the room.
Kyle’s face registered pure disgust. He rested his hands
on Luke’s desk and leaned right into his face.
“Here’s the way it is. James and I heard you had some
kind of a disagreement with Jess shortly before she was killed.
Don’t try to deny it, Luke. Gloria spotted you arguing with her in
the parking lot of the complex and told us about it.
“We’re not accusing you of anything — but understand
this — I don’t plan to be taking the needle for whoever
did
murder Jessica. So see if you can’t remember exactly what
happened with you two.”
“The truth. All of it,” Lundy growled.
Luke seemed to relax a little. He nodded. “Yeah, sure.
Whatever you need to know, bro.”
James brought his hand up as though he might hit
Arnold, then suddenly jerked it away. “Who the fuck you ‘
bro
’ing to, sorryass?”
“Hey man, I’m cool. Just saying I’m ‘
down
’ with this.”
He looked from James to Kyle. James rolled his eyes and turned
to Kyle who shook his head and nodded to Luke as if to say,
talk
or die
!
“Well, this is kind of difficult for me, but, well,
whatever,” Lucas drawled. “You guys know I’d do anything for
the players, right? It’s not just a job to me...”
James made a crude motion with his fist. “Stop jerking
us off, Arnold. You fought with her, we know that. What the
fuck was it about?”
Luke’s face reddened and his hair gel leaked gooey
globs onto his forehead. “It was... okay, it was about the way
she’d been acting, you know? Okay. Okay. You know how she
was, always flaunting herself at all the guys around here like she
was really the shit? Well, I saw something I shouldn’t have.
Jessica was...” He hesitated, wringing his chubby hands and
moving his head from side to side. “I’m sweating bullets here,
huh guys?” He farted again.
James wrinkled his face. “You need to use the
facilities?”
Arnold giggled self-consciously and shook his head.
“Uh, excuse me... I have a little stomach condition, okay? I
forgot to take my Nexium today. I think I need some fresh air.”
“Yeah, don’t we all about now,” Kyle was disgusted.
The mood was thick and the tension palpable. James told
the disintegrating security man he was losing his patience.
Luke nodded to no one in particular and continued,
“What I saw — it really fucked with my head, guys. Okay.
Okay. Let me tell you this. Uh, a coupla weeks ago I was, you
know, making my night rounds, okay? Checking to make sure
doors were closed and locked, lights out, that kind of stuff. The
usual. Okay?”
“Stop already with the Joe Pesci imitation and move on,”
James said.
“Uh, Okay. I, well, um I’m thinking I hear something in
the training room. As I got nearer I heard what I first thought
was folks arguing. So real careful like, I crack the door a little,
just so’s I could get inside, maybe make out what they’re
fighting about, you know? Maybe it was something I ought to
break up or something, you know?” He spoke as though he were
reliving the moment. “I almost lost my lunch when I saw it.
Gross
!” He took a breath. “There’s Jessica and Gloria going at
each other! Whoa! I kid you not!”
Kyle asked what they were fighting about.
Luke rolled his eyes. “
Fighting
! Uh, uh, they were
definitely
not
fighting. They were, oh man, they were all over
each other, buck naked! They were
doing it
.” He looked at the
players’ emotionless masks, and then continued. “Gloria’s head
was buried between Jessica’s legs and vice versa. They were,
you know,
sixty-nining
. And Jessica, shoot! Jessica sounded like
she was in pain, she was moaning so loud. She’s screaming and
jerking her hips like she’s a regular bronco horse, trying to push
Gloria’s head further up her pussy, and...”
“Stop for Christ’s sake. We got the picture!” James
swallowed, looking to Kyle as though he needed a lead on where
to go from there.
Arnold took the silence as a sign to continue and went
on. “I’m telling you, they didn’t know I was there. My feet were,
uh, they were like glued to the floor. I popped some wood. I was
trying to get outta there, but oh man! I couldn’t move! It took me
a couple minutes to process everything and then I flew out of the
room and down the hall to my office. Man! I even locked my
door. I mean, I was really spooked. Hey! How often do you get
to watch two girls going at it like that up close and personal? A
live porn show. Man, they were so hot, I was hard for the rest of
the night!”
Kyle dropped into a chair, saying nothing. Then a
humorless laugh tore from his throat. “Fuck. Gloria and Jess.
Fuck
!”
James started for Arnold again. Luke shrank back and
yelled for him to stop. “I swear on my mother... I’m telling you
guys exactly what happened. That’s how the fight started
between Jessica and me.” He covered his head with his arms.
James held still long enough to get the fat man talking
again.
“So what was I supposed to do? I couldn’t talk to Gloria
about it, the way she’s always mocking me and all. You guys
know how she’s always trying to make me look bad, right? But I
couldn’t let it go, either. I mean I heard all about how Jessica ran
around on you, Kyle — uh, excuse me for saying so. But I never
knew she was a lezzie! Man, I had to check it out and, well,
Jessica had always been so nice to me, I figured I’d have at her,
you know what I’m saying? Like counsel her like a big brother’s
all, I mean, you know, talk to her about it. Get her back on track
with you, give her some guidance, like I do for the players all the
time, you know?”
Kyle was furious! “She was
my
problem and none of
your business. I never asked for your help. Besides, if you were
so concerned about me, then you should have come to me. Your
job has nothing to do with counseling anybody.”
“Fuckin’ A!” James stormed.
“I told you, I mean, I can’t help but stick my nose in
everyone’s business. It’s my job!” Luke screamed.
James punched the wall. “It’s
not
your fuckin’ job, Ace.
Players’ personal lives got nothing at all to do with you, except
for you to make sure no one else knows anything about them.
How’re you walking with them brass balls, fat boy?” He made a
face. “Damn! Did you fart again?”
Arnold mumbled another apology. His clothes were
drenched in sweat and he was quivering like an old beagle.
“What do you think I shoulda done, huh? Don’t you even want
to know what she said?”
“If she was smart, she told you to mind your own
fucking business,” James responded.
“Yeah, she did. But she also threatened me. She actually
threatened me! She told me to forget I ever saw anything and I
better keep my mouth shut. Best looking chicks in town and
they’re both dykes!” He belched.
Kyle and James eyed one another with frustration. When
it came down to it, Luke’s brain had failed to thrive past the
teen-age boy mentality. He’d just never left high school.
Kyle moved toward the door, stopped and turned back to
look at the quaking mass that was the team’s security go-to guy.
Revolted by Arnold and everything that happened in the past
hour — hell, in the past few days — he spoke in carefully
measured words. “Luke. Stay away from me. And when the
cops come around again, tell them the truth —
all
of it. We’ll be
watching you.”
James looked hard at Arnold and snarled, “Make damn
sure they know Kyle didn’t know shit about any of this! I ever
get pissed off enough to punch something in your office again, it
gonna be
you
, fat man!”