Chapter Eighteen
“I promise I’ll make it up to you,” Gabe pleaded. Rachel looked disappointed, and he couldn’t blame her. The first day of the camp had gone so well, and Rachel had stuck around the entire day talking to players, kids, and parents. And now, when he was supposed to be taking her out to dinner, he was bailing on her because he’d gotten a phone call that someone had gotten out of hand at the club after he’d had too much to drink.
When one of the bouncers had called a few minutes ago, he didn’t give Gabe much more information than that. But Gabe didn’t need to know who it was. The rules were the same as when Mike ran the place: You fuck up one time and you’re out. Unlike baseball, guys didn’t get three strikes. Whoever was currently being held at the club would remain there until Gabe could come over and talk to him himself. And though he was in no rush to deal with whatever mess awaited him, he wanted the guy out of his club as soon as possible. “Tomorrow?”
The look on Rachel’s face told him that might not be good.
“Don’t tell me you have plans,” he said. “Mine’ll be better.” He’d make sure of it. He wasn’t even sure if Rachel believed he had some sort of family emergency, which is what he’d told her because he couldn’t think of anything else that would necessitate him leaving suddenly when they already had plans. It had occurred to him after he’d said it that he didn’t even have family in the area. And though she maybe thought that, she didn’t know it for sure.
“Okay, I won’t tell you I have plans.”
Gabe visibly deflated. “Okay, let me go deal with this, and then I’ll meet you for a late dinner. I don’t need a shower first.”
Her expression told him otherwise.
“Fine, maybe I do need a shower.”
“I have some work to do tomorrow, but I’ll try to take care of everything earlier in the day so we can meet up tomorrow night.”
“Really?” Gabe breathed a sigh of relief and smiled warmly at her. “Thank you. I promise… anything you wanna do, we’ll do. You name it.”
“Okay, there’s that new sushi place on Front Street I’ve been wanting to try.”
“I meant almost anything,” he said. “You know I don’t eat sushi.”
The smile she gave him let him know that the dinner menu was her little punishment for bailing on her tonight. “You will tomorrow,” she said.
He couldn’t help but smile back.
***
Rachel had spent most of the next morning researching the Bank of American Fidelity’s customers who resided in the Philadelphia area, convinced there had to be one who would talk to her and give her some tiny nugget of information that would allow her to uncover the club in a way that wouldn’t make Gabe hate her.
Then she quickly realized that was wishful thinking.
Of all the people in the area, there were only twenty-seven who weren’t current athletes, and that included Gabe. And of those, only fourteen had never played a professional sport. She guessed that those were most likely club employees, especially since some of the names were women.
After a little digging around on social media, Rachel was able to narrow down the list to two possible women who may be willing to talk to her for a price. The first was Rebecca. She was a beautiful, single bartender who currently worked part-time at a local restaurant. And from the posts on her page, Rachel learned she had aspirations of becoming a model. Though as far as Rachel could tell that dream hadn’t panned out yet. But if Rebecca worked at the club at one point, she might still. From her Facebook, Rachel didn't see any evidence of a current full-time job, and speaking with her wasn’t a risk Rachel was willing to take if Rebecca was a current employee.
That left her with Jamie, a divorced mother of two who, from the looks of her page, had a few part-time jobs waiting tables around the city. Like Rebecca, she was beautiful. A few of her older posts mentioned not having much money around the holidays, and from the looks of her pictures, she appeared to live in a small apartment. Rachel hoped that meant that Jamie was no longer employed by the club because she figured an elite establishment such as that would pay its employees better than whatever Jamie seemed to be bringing home currently.
Left without any other options, Rachel chose to pursue the only lead she had. She entered the small diner right after the lunch rush and took a look around, hoping like hell Jamie would be there. Finally, luck seemed to be on her side, and she approached the counter where Jamie was working alone. There were only two other customers still seated, and Rachel chose a stool toward the end so she was as far away as she could get from them.
“I’ll be right with you,” Jamie said as she set down a burger and fries for someone.
Rachel said thank you and took a menu from between the napkin and sugar dispensers. A minute or so later, after Jamie had rung someone up, she found her way over to Rachel. “What can I get for ya?” Now that Jamie was closer to her, Rachel could tell she was older than she looked in her pictures online. The wrinkles around the corners of her eyes told Rachel the woman was probably in her forties, and the dark circles below them meant she probably didn’t get much sleep.
“Iced tea to start. Not sure what I want to eat yet. You have any suggestions?” Rachel asked.
“You ever been here before?”
“Nope, just moved to the city not that long ago.”
“Well, welcome to the City of Brotherly Love,” Jamie said. She gave Rachel what appeared to be a genuine smile, but it wasn’t as full as it could’ve been. “I’d go with the gyro and, if you have time for dessert, a cinnamon bun. People love ’em.”
Rachel smiled. “Sounds good. I’ll trust you.”
Jamie wrote down the order and said she’d be back in a moment with her drink. When she returned, Rachel asked her about the bracelet she was wearing. “Is that sand inside?” Rachel asked, looking at the thin clear plastic tube around the woman’s wrist.
“Yeah, my daughter gave it to me.”
Rachel liked that Jamie didn’t seem embarrassed by wearing something a child made. It made her endearing in a way Rachel hadn’t expected. “That’s sweet. How old is she?” From the pictures online, Jamie’s little girl looked to be about six.
“She’s seven, but she made this when she was in preschool. Me and my ex split custody, so I like to wear something from the kids the weeks he has them.” She pulled at a thin chain around her neck that had been tucked into her white shirt. “From my son. He’s eleven.” Then she shook her head and began wiping the counter again even though she just had. “I have no idea why I’m telling you all this. You must think I’m crazy,” she said. “Who tells some stranger she just met about her life?”
Rachel shrugged. “I’m used to it. I’m a reporter. I hear all kinds of things.”
“What’da you write for the paper or something?”
“A sports magazine. It’s actually why I’m here,” Rachel admitted.
“In Philly?”
Rachel swallowed her iced tea. “In this diner, actually.”
Jamie stopped cleaning and looked up at her curiously.
“I had a couple of questions for you if you have the time to answer them.”
Looking guarded and skeptical, Jamie crossed her arms in front of her chest. “You have questions for me? What’s this about?”
Rachel looked around to see if the one customer still remaining was paying attention, but thankfully he was on his phone. “I’m guessing you know the answer to that.”
“I don’t. And if you’re not gonna tell me, this conversation’s over. I actually think it’s over anyway.”
Sighing, Rachel thought carefully about what to say. “It’s about Mike Tarino. I think you used to work for him.”
“I don’t know who that is,” Jamie said simply, but the way she averted her eyes and played with her fingernails told Rachel that Jamie knew exactly who Mike was.
“Is fifteen hundred enough?”
“What?” Jamie narrowed her eyes.
“Fifteen hundred dollars. To answer a few questions about when you worked for Tarino. Truthfully, of course,” Rachel added.
Jamie scoffed. “So I worked for a guy I don’t even know? Doing what exactly?”
Rachel knew Jamie was testing her to find out what she already knew, and she couldn’t blame her. Though the money was probably tempting, Jamie’s fear of what might happen if she talked probably overshadowed it. “You worked at his club, right?”
Jamie pursed her lips but didn’t respond.
“For high profile athletes,” Rachel said. “I already know it exists. I just need to know who’s running it.”
Jamie picked at some crumbs on her black apron before putting her hands into its pockets. “If a place like that existed,” Jamie said, her voice hushed, “anyone who worked there would’ve probably signed an NDA to make sure they didn’t talk about it.”
Rachel wasn’t surprised that Jamie brought up a nondisclosure agreement. She was prepared for Jamie to. “Well, Mike Tarino’s been dead for months. I doubt a dead guy will sue for violating such an agreement.” She stared into Jamie’s eyes empathetically. “Look, you could use the money, and I could use the information. We’d be helping each other out.”
Jamie thought for a few moments, shaking her leg nervously. “You won’t reveal your source?”
Rachel put her right hand up and shook her head no. “Promise.”
A minute or so of silence passed between them, and Rachel knew Jamie was using the time to decide what to do. The fact that she was even considering it was a good sign, so Rachel wouldn’t pressure her any more than she already had.
“Two grand,” Jamie finally said. “I have bills due next week.”
Rachel gave her a quick nod. “Two grand. Fifteen hundred now and I’ll come back with the other five. I don’t have it with me.” Rick had only approved fifteen hundred, but Rachel would pay the other five hundred herself.
“Okay,” Jamie said. “What is it you want to know?”
Everything. She wanted to know everything. But there was one thing she cared about more than any other. “Who’s running the club now?”
“No idea,” Jamie replied. “That’s the truth. I haven’t worked there in two years. That was long before Mike died, obviously.”
“Why’d you leave?”
Jamie rubbed her forehead in what seemed to be frustration. “I was going through a divorce, and I needed to give the court financial statements and info about where I worked. I didn’t want to risk this all coming out. Mike was… he was a real sweet guy. I didn’t want to cause him any trouble. And I wasn’t as strapped for cash at that time, either.” Jamie looked down and wrung the towel between her hands, looking almost sick as she told Rachel all of this.
Rachel felt awful for putting her in this position, but she’d already started this. She had to finish it. “You weren’t worried your husband would tell the courts?”
“He didn’t know. I told him it was something I couldn’t talk about. As long as the money was coming in, he didn’t care where it came from.”
The guy sounded like a real winner. But Rachel kept that thought to herself and instead focused on the task at hand. “The money was good then?” Rachel figured it would have been, but she still wanted confirmation, which she got when Jamie nodded. “But you said you don’t know who’s running the place now?”
“Nope. Once I cut ties with the place, I didn’t look back. No one would’ve told me anything about it anyway.”
“Right,” Rachel said. “That makes sense.” She dropped her head into her hands and let out a frustrated sigh.
When Rachel lifted her head, Jamie was studying her face like there was something she couldn’t quite figure out. “Why are you so interested in who’s in charge now? You said you already know the place exists. Isn’t that the story?”
It was. But Rachel didn’t exactly have proof of the club, other than her conversation with Jamie. One anonymous source wouldn’t be enough to write a story like this one. “Yeah,” she answered. “It is. But I need to know. If for no other reason than to satisfy my own curiosity.”
Jamie nodded silently but didn’t ask anything further. Whether she believed Rachel or not, Rachel couldn’t tell. “I’m surprised you didn’t ask how Mike recruited people.”
“Recruited people?”
“Yeah. Members, employees… there’s no way to join a place that doesn’t exist, right?” she asked.
The corner of Rachel’s mouth turned up in excitement as she sat up straighter. “How did Mike recruit people?” she asked, her eyes never leaving Jamie’s.
“Business cards,” she said. “If I wanted to know who was head of the place now, I’d go to a high-profile sporting event and see who’s handing them out.” And with that, Jamie walked away from her to brew a new pot of coffee. “Leave the money on the counter before you go,” she said simply.
And that’s exactly what Rachel did.