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“Who is it?”
“It’s a kid from Haver’s Creek High, wants to talk to you about football.” Kurt sounded confused. I needed to talk to him about how to get more information from his subjects.
I pinched the space between my eyes. After high school I had played college ball for a year before briefly going pro. A blow to my knee took me out of the game for good, so I started my second career as a cop after only three years in the NFL. It had always been my plan, but life made it happen a little sooner than I intended.
Every once in a while, someone recognized me and made a thing of it. Not the locals, of course. They knew me already. But from visitors or other kids as they moved to town.
“You know I don’t do autographs, Kurt. Over.”
“I don’t think he wants your autograph. It’s something about the school itself.” This made me sit up a little straighter. I plucked a ten-dollar bill from my wallet and set it on the table.
“I’m on my way.” I waved to Barb and mouthed a thank you, not wanting to interrupt the conversation she was having with another customer. Pulling out my cell phone, I scrolled through my messages to find the case notes Kurt sent over. Given the vague details, I just needed to interview the kid myself to understand what was going on.
“Steroids?” I looked at the freshman football player sitting across from me in my office. “You’re telling me the coach suggests you take steroids to become a better player?”
He nodded.
I tilted my head and heard a crack. I needed an Advil after this.
The young teen stared back at me with big bright eyes. His face looked like it never needed to be shaved and his wave of blond hair gave Shawn Mendes a run for his money.
Had I ever looked this young?
“Football season started months ago. When did Coach Ramstrom first suggest this to you?”
The boy’s eyes shifted all over the place and his leg hadn’t stopped bouncing since he arrived.
I leaned forward, forearms on my knees.
“You have nothing to be afraid of Jeremy. He won’t know you came and talked to me about this, I promise you. I just need to understand exactly what you are telling me, so I know what, if anything, I need to do. Understand?” I lifted my brow.
Jeremy swallowed, then gave a small tilt of his head.
“Okay, good.” I rounded my desk in search of my legal pad. When I found it, I sat back down, synthesizing everything I’d learned over the past half hour.
After making Jeremy repeat his statement to me a few more times, I shook his hand and sent him home promising to investigate it. His accusations were heartfelt, and my gut told me to trust the kid.
But coercing high-school players to take performance enhancements would rock this football loving town to the core. I needed to launch a full investigation, leaving no stone left unturned if I planned to bring the coach in on charges. But for now, he was innocent until I could prove otherwise. At least until I collected statements from other players and built a body of evidence to use in a case against Coach Ramstrom.
I planned to get to the bottom of this.
While typing my notes, I heard a woman’s raised voice from down the hall. Recognizing it, I made my way towards the front entrance of the station, crossing my arms at what I found.
“You can’t stop me from seeing her.”
“Ma’am, I can’t do that, I’m sorry.” Kurt tried to stick his ground against a worthy adversary.
Whitney flinched. “Please don’t call me ma’am. I’m twenty-eight for heaven’s sakes.” Whitney shook her head, the movement sending her line of vision in my direction.
I crossed my arms and leaned against the door jamb.
“What seems to be the problem?”
Whitney looked like a fire-breathing dragon with her hair wild and her eyes practically glowing.
“You might want to teach,” she said, looking over to find Kurt’s name tag, “Kurt here some manners.” She pointed her thumb at him.
I uncrossed my arms and walked towards her. “He’s just doing his job, Sprinkles.”
