Chapter Thirty-One
“I’m not convinced it’s Karl,” Gill said to Shauna when she met him beside the pole vaulters.
“Me either. He’s a bit of a douche, but I’m not sure he’s Mr. Sociopath.”
“Why a douche?”
Shauna hid behind her sunglasses, her eyes following the kid pushing off the pole and hitting the bar as he went up.
“Anyone who can’t muster up some excitement for his kid at a state meet is an ass.”
“It’s not his kid.”
“Yeah, well . . . he may know that, his wife certainly knows it, but the kid doesn’t. If you’re going to pretend, do it all the way. Don’t screw up a kid because of your wife’s sins. If Karl knows or doesn’t know, he’s still a douche.”
Shauna was going to be a great mom someday, Gill decided. “Your take on Karl?”
“Hard to put my finger on. He’s jealous of Jo’s relationship with Drew . . . or he’s mad they’re close. Which actually should make him a suspect. But every time my head goes there, I think it’s too damn convenient. Too neat.”
“I hate when you think the way I do.”
She clapped when the kid on the pole boomeranged over thirteen and a half feet without knocking off the bar. “What about the wife? What’s your take?”
“She’s a serial cheater.”
Shauna glanced over the rim of her sunglasses. “Really?”
“Yep.”
“Who’s the other dude?”
“Don’t know.”
“Hmm . . . another player. Do you think she’s capable of murder?”
“I think everyone is capable.”
The starting gun went off on the field to announce another race.
Gill’s back shot straight up.
Where was Jo?
The coaches from the individual schools were not allowed on the field during championships. Official refs were dressed in traditional red jackets, red hats, and holstered starting guns while they lumbered around the field qualifying and disqualifying athletes.
Jo liked this part. The excitement before the race when the athletes were stretched out, warmed up, and a medal was within their reach.
Kids were running around everywhere from dozens of different schools. But her eyes were on the colors of River Bend High. As she watched Drew warming up that morning, it was hard not to stare.
She had a brother.
Considering all of her immediate family was gone, the revelation of a new member in her life was sobering. No wonder the kid reminded her of when she was younger. They were cut from the same patriarchal cloth. Like her, Drew didn’t like the label of being the kid of the town cop. Like her, Drew didn’t want to follow the traditional school path. Like her, he managed to get into enough trouble to show his rebellion but not enough to end up in any serious trouble. Of course, she’d come much closer than he had. Maybe that was the influence of growing up with a mother, someone to temper and guide him when he started to waver off the straight path. Jo didn’t have that luxury.
Drew and Tim were ushered onto the field along with the other three-thousand-meter runners.
“You have this, River Bend!” she shouted from across the track. The noise from the field and stands made it impossible to hear anything. Across the field Wyatt was positioned to yell out times and instructions, not that the boys didn’t know what they had to do.
Jo held her stopwatch with her right hand and listened for the gun.
With eyes glued to the starting line, she studied the body language of the ref, who stood on a stepladder on the inside of the field. “C’mon, boys. Make me proud.”
She heard her name from behind and ignored it. The race was about to start, and she wasn’t about to take her eyes off the track.
The ref removed the .38 from his holster . . . a gun filled with blanks, but just as loud as the real thing . . . and lifted it in the air.
“Jo!”
She kept staring . . . waiting.
The sound of the gun went off and Jo flew back.
Gill channeled his inner linebacker as he rushed through the slow-moving crowd.
Jo stood by the fence separating the athletes from the bystanders. Her frame exposed to the world. She ignored his calls of her name.
When the gun went off, he was standing two feet behind her as she flew back from the fence.
He caught her before she hit the ground. His heart screamed.
“Jo?”
She was moaning.
The people around them stared, confused. Some by the fence glanced at them, then back to the race.
Gill shielded her with his frame in case the shooter had another round. But the crowd moved in enough to keep them hidden.
He ran his hand down her zippered sweatshirt, opened it to see her torso.
“Damn it, that hurt,” Jo cussed.
“Where are you hit?” Gill yelled.
“Just damn.”
“Stop talking. Point.”
Someone near his side knelt down. “Hey, are you okay?”
“No. She’s not. Call 911.”
Jo shook her head, her eyes closed. “I’m okay.”
“Jesus, Jo. You’ve been shot.”
With his words, more heads swiveled toward them.
“I’m okay,” was her breathy reply.
Gill moved to her side and lifted her bloodless T-shirt.
Jo tapped her vest with her right hand. “Still hurts like a bitch.”
Gill buried his head in her good shoulder and let himself breathe. “You’re killing me, JoAnne.”
A frame pushed through the crowd, Gill hovered over Jo until he saw his partner. “Shauna.”
“I saw her go down.”
Jo tried to sit up.
Gill didn’t let her. “She’s wearing a vest.”
“Thank God.”
“We need to get you out of here.”
The crowd in the stands started to cheer, announcing the end of the race. He used the noise and commotion around them to hook Jo’s good arm over his shoulders and bring her to her feet.
“When they said it hurts when you’re hit, they weren’t kidding.”
Shauna flanked them, her eyes alert. They limped through the crowd until they rounded the corner of the gym and found an open door. Only once he had Jo’s shirt off and removed her vest was he convinced she wasn’t full of holes.
“Our killer just changed the rules,” Gill said.
Drew’s fifth place finish followed Tim’s third. The two of them nearly knocked each other to the ground as they hugged.
They shook the hands of the winners and those of the kids that came in behind them.
“We made the podium!” Drew pumped his fist in the air.
“What a year, man. What a year.” Tim patted him on the back.
Drew looked up in the stands and found his mom. She stood with a hand in the air, waving with a thumbs-up. He searched for his dad and didn’t see him.
On the other side of the field, he scanned the crowd for Coach Ward. When he came up short, he assumed she’d be at the gate as they exited the field.
She wasn’t.
Tina, however, was. She ran to his arms, congratulating him on his finish. “That was amazing.”
“Not bad.”
“What about me?” Tim asked as if Tina was going to kiss and hug him.
“Dude, I thought you had second. That Portland kid was fast.”
Tim rested his hands on his knees in an attempt to capture his breath. “Goals for next year.”
“In college they’re going to be that much faster,” Tina said.
“Good thing I’m not going to college,” Drew exclaimed.
“Really, dude?”
“It’s not for me.”
Tim shook Drew’s hand. “Then thanks for letting me beat you one last time.”
Tim won fair and square. “I want a rematch.”
“Name the place.”
“River Bend High on our ten-year class reunion.”
Tim pointed at him. “You’re on.”
Tina laughed. “That’s one way to make sure you don’t get fat before you’re thirty.”
Drew scanned the crowd again. “Anyone see Coach Ward?”
Tim and Tina looked around. “No.”