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"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah, well I guess that doesn't much matter." He walked over to the file cabinet and turned on the television set. The black-and-white picture showed the commentators in their network blazers sitting in the broadcast booth.

"… the Stars played brilliantly in the first half. The offense mixed up their plays. They protected the ball well. The Sabers are going to have to be a lot more aggressive if they want to get back into this game." The display at the bottom of the screen showed the score: Stars 14, Sabers 3.

The guard gave a vile curse and turned down the volume. She looked at him more closely as he paced the narrow end of the office closest to the door, smoking furiously. Her eyes fell on his black plastic name tag.

HARDESTY

At that moment, it all came back. She remembered Dan's telling her about the man who had been stalking him, the father of one of the Stars' former players. His name was Hardesty.

A beer commercial blinked mutely on the television. She licked her dry lips. "My arms are hurting. The rope's too tight."

"I'm not untying you."

"Just loosen it."

"No."

She had to get him to talk. She would go crazy if she didn't find out what he had in mind. "This is about your son, isn't it?"

He pointed his cigarette at her. "I'll tell you something, lady. Ray Junior was the best defensive end to ever play for the Stars. There wasn't any reason for that bastard to cut him."

"Coach Calebow?"

"He had it in for Ray Junior. He didn't even give him a chance."

"Dan doesn't operate that way."

Clouds of gray smoke wreathed his head, and he barely seemed to have heard her. "I'll tell you what I think. I think he knew Ray Junior was a better player than he'd ever been. I think he was jealous. The press made a big thing about Calebow, but he was nothing, not compared to my Ray."

She realized that the man was insane. Maybe he'd been this way for a long time, or maybe his son's death had been the final blow. She tried to conceal her fear.

"Players get cut all the time. It's part of the game."

"You don't know what it's like! One day you're somebody special, and the next day nobody knows your name."

"Are you talking about your son or yourself?"

"Shut up!" His eyes bulged and his complexion took on a faint purplish hue.

She was afraid to push him any farther, and she fell silent.

He jabbed his finger at her. "Look, you don't mean anything to me. I don't want to hurt you, but I will if I have to. Because no matter what, I'm not going to let the Stars win this game."

Ron reached the tunnel just as the players were rushing back onto the field. He dreaded what he had to do. Dan had been a bear all week—temperamental, unreasonable, and impossible to pacify—and he had no idea how he'd react to this distressing piece of news.

Dan emerged from the locker room and Ron fell into step beside him. "I'm afraid we've got a problem."

"Handle it. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm trying to win a football game here, and—"

Ron pressed his folded handkerchief against his forehead. "Phoebe's missing."

Dan jerked to a stop, and his face went pale. "What are you talking about?"

"She left the skybox during the second quarter and never came back. Somebody found her purse in the hallway. I've called her house and her office. I've checked with first aid and sent someone to every skybox. She's gone, Dan, and at this point, I have to believe it's foul play."

Ron had seen Dan in pressure situations, but he'd never seen such raw panic in his eyes. "No! She can't be—Christ. Did you call the police?"

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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