Impulsive (39 page)

"Concerning what?" Jess hedged.

"The Knights. The stadium."

"Might as well," Jess relented. "Lay it on
me."

Ty grinned devilishly. "I can't. Not in front of your
mother."

"Stop fooling around, and tell us," Claudia directed
with a mock scowl.

"While we were lolling around in Miami, some person or
persons unknown took it upon themselves to revamp the stadium—and not for the
better. They thoroughly vandalized the office area, and most of the vendors'
stalls. Stole several rolls of preprinted admittance tickets and assorted
merchandise. They upset files, desks, cash registers—everything that wasn't
nailed down, and then some. Strew papers and food stuff and souvenirs all over
hell's half acre. Then they stopped up the drains and toilets and turned the
water on in all the rest rooms, including those in the locker rooms, overturned
about half of the lockers, broke out windows, and made off with a variety of
team equipment."

"Good grief!" Jess exclaimed. "All that?"

"Oh, that's not the sum of it," Ty proclaimed.
"After they finished with the trivial ransacking, they went on to the
field. Hacked up the sport turf and tried to set it on fire, broke some of the
seats, and shot about a dozen holes in the overhead dome. All in all, the place
resembles a war zone."

"So much for hoping to catch Tom in a good mood,"
Claudia muttered. "Even if the insurance covers most of the cost, I
imagine it's going to take a bundle to restore the stadium."

"Not to mention time and labor," Jess added. "How
could you even practice, with the field in such shambles?"

"Coach Danvers arranged for us to use the Ohio State field, for
practice only, and only when the Buckeyes aren't using it. Workers are already
trying to clean up the mess at the dome. They've been at it since Tuesday
morning. Hopefully, they'll get enough accomplished so we can play there on
Sunday. If not, we may have to forfeit the game."

"Where was our handy-dandy night watchman while all this was
happening?" Jess inquired curiously.

"As I understand it, he'd taken Sunday off to attend a family
reunion. His replacement didn't show up. Apparently, no one realized anything
was wrong until a motorist reported hearing gunshots Sunday evening. By the
time the police arrived, the vandals were long gone, having saved their
noisiest shenanigans 'til last."

"Wow!" Jess sat back on the couch and tried to imagine
the extent of the damage, and the immense task of reparation. "Those were
some very busy hooligans! Presumably not our best fans, either. Do the police
have any idea who is behind it?"

"Not as yet, but they're hopeful, as always. By the
way," Ty added nonchalantly, slanting a quick glance at Claudia before
pinning his sharp gaze on Jess, "Haggardy sends his regards. He'll try to
get by to see you around the first of the week."

Jess frowned, but caught on quickly enough to say lamely,
"That's nice."

"Who's Haggardy?" Claudia asked.

Beyond all expectations, the work crews had managed to whip the
stadium into reasonable shape in time for Sunday's game against the Kansas City
Chiefs. The mess on the field had been raked up, and new turf laid. They had
roped off the section of damaged seats, lashed tarps over the holes in the dome
as a temporary measure, and replaced the broken lighting. Though many of the
shops and refreshment stands were still closed, the locker rooms had been
restored enough to use. A local printer had run off a new batch of tickets for
this week's game and was working on printing up the remainder.

While disappointed that Jess would not be playing, Josh was
tickled to be able to sit with her at the game. He also got to meet Claudia and
John for the first time, and promptly set about charming the socks off his
prospective grandparents.

The Chiefs were in a slump, which should have given the Knights
quite an advantage, if not for the disruptions in their practice routines. As
it was, by the end of the third quarter, the Chiefs were leading by three
points. Even with Gabe back in action, their defense was effectively keeping Ty
and his offense from gaining much ground.

In the first series of the fourth quarter, the Knights made it as
far as the Chiefs' forty-five-yard line. It was fourth down, and there was no
way Sam Miller, the team punter who was subbing for Jess, could kick a field
goal from that range. It was a rare kicker who could do it.

With the clock stopped for an injured Chiefs' player, Sam was
gearing up to punt when Jess leapt from her seat. "I can't stand just
sitting here! It's driving me crazy!"

In seconds, she had climbed the railing separating the lower tier
of seats from the team area and, with a hand from one of the coaches, was down
on the ground. Already wearing her jersey, in support of her team, she marched
up to Sam and demanded, "Give me your helmet."

"What?"

"Just hand it over."

Danvers approached her at a lope. "Jess! What are you
doing?"

"I'm going to kick that sucker through those uprights,"
she declared determinedly. "I'm still on the roster, aren't I?"

"Yes, but Ty's going to have a cow."

"Then we'll have beef for the winter, won't we?"

To Ty's astonishment, since he had yet to realize that Jess was
now in the game, the coach signaled for a field goal. "He's out of his
ever-lovin' gourd," Ty grumbled to Gabe. "Set up for a fake."

That's exactly what the opposing team did as well, certain that's
what the Knights' strategy was, now that their star kicker wasn't playing.
Everyone was lining up in his slot when Ty looked back to find Jess in Sam's
place. If his teeth hadn't been firmly rooted, he would have swallowed all
thirty-two of them.

Jess merely grinned. "The ball, Ty. Set it," she
reminded him just in time.

Through sheer instinct and all their practice, Ty caught the pitch
and placed it properly. As her leg whizzed past his face, he got a glimpse of
her bare foot and five pink-enameled toenails. Needing distance versus so much
height, the ball skimmed over the fingertips of the Chiefs, who were leaping to
block the kick. Like a rocket, it soared into the end zone, clearing the bar by
a fraction of an inch.

The home crowd and the Knights went crazy. Jess had just tied the
score and accomplished the all-but-impossible—a sixty-two-yard field goal! A
mere yard shorter than the standing NFL record! Her teammates, Ty in the lead,
converged around her to heft her onto their shoulders and carry her off the
field.

"I ought to beat your fanny for pulling a stunt like
this!" he bellowed over the cheers echoing throughout the stadium.

"Jess, you're a doll!" Gabe yelled.

"Can we have your foot bronzed?" Chili hollered.

When they finally put her down on the sidelines, Jess rounded on
them, her fists on her hips and her features drawn into a scowl. "Okay,
you guys, shape up and do the rest on your own! Don't make me come down here
again and bail your worthless butts out of trouble. And win, dammit!"

Abashed, but grinning, they saluted her like a troop of
well-trained soldiers. "Yes, ma'am!" they clamored as one—all but Ty,
who was still glowering at her with smoldering blue eyes that threatened
retribution.

Bright and early Monday morning, Haggardy was rapping on Ty's
door. Jess let him in, to find him standing there with a box of cinnamon rolls.
"What's that? A peace offering?"

"If you want to look at it that way," he said,
shouldering past her. "That was some field goal you kicked yesterday. You
must be feeling better."

"She was, before she jammed her toe executing that barefoot
kick," Ty said as he joined them in the living room. "Which is the
only reason I didn't throttle her. I figured she was suffering enough for her
stupidity."

Haggardy eyed Jess's bandaged toe and actually chuckled, a feat
Jess had thought he couldn't perform without having his face crack into a million
pieces. "Well, you won the game, by a single point, so I suppose it was
worth it."

He sobered again and announced, "We found out who vandalized
the stadium. It was a street gang. Some supposedly unknown party passed a note
and a hundred dollars to one of the members. Left it on the counter at a local
bakery run by the punk's family. I questioned him again earlier, and he still
insists he doesn't know who left the note. Only that it informed him that the
stadium would be empty and unguarded that particular night, and if his gang
would vandalize it, they would be paid five thousand dollars. They did, and
they were. The money was passed along in the same manner."

"So that's why you appeared bearing donuts," Jess
deduced. "Not out of any fondness or remorse."

Haggardy shrugged. "I thought of it as killing two birds with
one stone."

"So, are the gang members in jail?" Ty inquired.

"Out on bail," Haggardy replied. "Par for the
course." He accepted the cup of coffee Ty held out to him with a nod of
thanks. "I've been trying to unravel this mystery, but everytime I think
I've got a handle on it, something else pops up. Like that cheerleader being
strangled in Miami. It just doesn't fit with the rest of the puzzle, not if
we're going on the theory that someone is out to ruin the Knights. The stadium,
I can see. Even Jess's overdose could apply, whether this Shultz woman was our
culprit or not. But how would killing Bambi do any damage to the team? I mean,
she's not a major player, a backer, or even dating one of the players."

"An emotional hit?" Jess suggested. "Another means
of reinforcing fear, distrust, and dismal spirits among the Knights?"

"It's a thought," Haggardy conceded, "but my gut
tells me there's more to it. I just don't know what."

"You sound as if you're not sure Bambi is responsible for
spiking Jess's drink, either," Ty noted. "Any particular
reason?"

"Oh, she probably did it, but I have to wonder if the idea
was hers or somebody else's, or a combination of the two."

"You think Bambi could have been in on this whole situation
from the start?" Jess surmised.

"At this point, I'm not sure who's in and who's out. There
seem to be any number of people involved, and my suspects are getting bumped
off almost as fast as the victims. First Dr. Johnson is our primary suspect, a
person capable of hanging Ervin, tampering with the drug testing, poisoning
Rome— perhaps even of shooting Crumrine, and knocking Ty in the head and
attacking him at the hospital. But he can't be the one who sent you those last
couple of threats, Jess."

He took a breath, and went on. "Now, Miss Shultz could have
poisoned Rome. She had access to the locker room, and if she was in league with
Johnson, he could have supplied the arsenic. Poison and drugs rank high as
preferred methods of murder by females. They tend to shy away from anything
involving blood and guts. She may also have killed Johnson, or aided in his
demise—and sent you those threats, Jess, as well as dosing your punch. But Ty
and the nurse on duty at the hospital both claim
their
assailant was a
man. Moreover, Bambi was in the morgue in Miami when the payoff was made for
vandalizing the stadium. So, we still have at least one assassin, if not more,
on the loose, any way you cut it. It wouldn't surprise me to discover that one of
them did Bambi in, for whatever reason. Maybe to keep her from blabbing."

"This is getting awfully complicated," Jess declared,
trying to assimilate all of Haggardy's suppositions and mentally file them
away.

"Isn't it, just?" Ty agreed. "So, we may have had
two previous suspects—Johnson and Bambi—both out of the picture now, and
neither responsible for the latest dastardly deed."

Haggardy gave a curt nod. "That's the way it looks."

"Am I still on your most-wanted list?" Jess inquired
archly. "Could be I slipped myself a mickey, knowing Ty would save me,
just to throw you a curve."

Haggardy smirked. "Then you're not as smart as I'm giving you
credit for. As I hear it, you came within a hair of cashing in your chips for
good."

"Yes, but Bambi may have done it solely out of jealousy, and
had nothing to do with any of the other incidents. Her death may not even be
connected to your case—just your run-of-the-mill Miami murder," Jess
pointed out. "Which would put me back on the roster of possible criminals,
wouldn't it?"

"Holy crap, Jess!" Ty exclaimed, throwing up his hands
in exasperation. "Stop egging him on. Do you
want
Haggardy
suspecting you?"

Jess released a catty smile. "No, I was just hoping he'd
finally admit how asinine that presumption was from the start."

"Okay, so I jumped the gun a bit," the detective
conceded. "I was just trying to cover all the bases."

"If that's an apology, I've heard better," Jess groused.
"But I accept."