Murder in the Shallows

by Arlene Mason

The ground was still damp from the storm the previous night; the fallen pine needles were slippery under Candace “Kit” Granger’s hiking boots. The morning air felt cool against her bare legs below the khaki shorts. The smell of wet mud and decaying evergreens permeated the air. She had always liked that smell. It calmed her, made her forget the world and took her back to her childhood. The backyard of her father’s estate, her refuge, smelled like this. She sighed.

“Hey,” said a female voice from a few feet away. “Kit, you’re going the wrong way. Professor Johnston said we are supposed to be looking in the field.”

“Callie,” Kit said, “how can we study the effects of erosion in a field?”

The girl shrugged.

“Don’t you think that we would have more luck over by the creek?”

“But,” Callie began, and then shut her mouth, knowing full well that Kit knew exactly what she was talking about. After all she was the oldest student in the class, and the pair had been sharing a room all semester. “I’ll never understand why she’s taking an undergrad course in Geology,” Callie muttered under her breath.

“Neither will I,” said the handsome young man standing next to her. “I hear she’s only in school because her family doesn’t want her.”

“I heard she doesn’t have enough credits in any one subject to get a degree,” said another young woman coming up from behind.

“You’re both right,” said Kit approaching the group, “but, I still think we would be better off by the creek. Don’t you Janice?” She glared at the second young woman, and then turned to the young man. “How about you David?”

The group, visibly embarrassed, nodded and followed Kit toward the creek.

The creek was usually small and clear, nestled between large stands of Douglas fir and pine trees. Today, however, it was wide and muddy. It raced through a tight rock canyon carved out over many years of swelling and receding with the weather.

The group emerged to see the torrent racing past them. Kit smiled broadly and held her hand out. “This is erosion, first hand,” she said.

The group stared at the water in wide eyed amazement.

“Pretty awesome, huh?”

Callie’s voice was not much more than a whisper. “Kit,” she hissed,“are you blind?”

Kit looked at her friend. “What are you talking about?”

Callie pointed upstream. A narrow bridge crossed the creek a few yards away, or at least it used to. A large chunk of the pavement was missing from one side of the bridge and there, just a few feet downstream Kit could see the top of a vehicle just under the surface of the water.

“Oh my God,” Kit said, her voice louder than normal. “I wonder if there is anyone inside.”

“Ewww,” said Callie, “I don’t want to get involved.”

Kit sighed, as she glared at her roommate. “Well, I do.”

“As always,” Callie groaned.

“Just call 911, in case there is someone inside.”

Callie shrugged and pulled the cell phone from its pocket on her purse.

Kit edged her way along the bank toward the vehicle. It was slow going, the creek was fast and cold and she didn’t want to fall in. The trees that overhung the bank now had their trunks slightly under water; Kit had to weave her way around them. Finally, she reached the vehicle. It was a dark blue pickup truck. The lights were still on, though the engine had long since quit. She could just make out that there was indeed someone inside, but, their skin was pale and they weren’t moving. She guessed she was too late.

“The police are on their way,” shouted Callie from her spot on the bank.

“Don’t worry,” said Kit, too quietly for anyone to hear.

“What?”

“I said, ‘Thanks’,” she lied as she looked more closely at the truck. She could barely make out, that it was a Chevy S-10. There was a skull and crossbones emblazoned upon the rear window. Kit gasped, she instantly recognized the truck. It belonged to Gunter Villarreal. “Gunny,” she sighed as she made her way back to drier land.

“Well,” said Callie as she approached, “was there someone inside?”

Kit looked at her feet and nodded slowly.

“Anyone we know?”

Kit nodded again.

“Do I have to wrench it out of you?”

Kit shook her head and looked up. Her eyes met those of her young roommate. “Callie is so full of life,” she thought, “this is going to kill her.” She paused. “It’s Gunny.”

Callie’s eyes widened in horror. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Tears welled up in her eyes. “No,” she said, her bottom lip quivering.

Kit held out her arms and Callie embraced her. “I know what he meant to you.”

“How could this have happened?”

“It rained last night. The bridge was out. I don’t know.”

Callie frowned in the direction of the truck. “Kit, why are there tire tracks leading through the trees to Gunny’s truck?”

“What?” She said turning around. “I don’t understand.” She shook her head. “It looks like he backed into the creek.”

“Why would he do that? He didn’t even like to drive around here. He said that he kept thinking he’d hit a cow or something.” She sobbed. “He just wasn’t a farm boy.”

Kit gently kissed Callie’s forehead and turned to make her way back to the truck. She looked into the water. There was no visible damage to the vehicle, and or to the driver. She looked back along the trail that led away from the truck; there was nothing, just two tire tracks. Kit followed the tracks backward, up the bank, through the trees, through the field for a few yards and then to the road. She walked along the road for almost two hundred feet, but she didn’t see any skid marks, or any indication that Gunny tried to prevent his truck from going off the road. She shook her head.

Suddenly, a car whizzed by her, horn blaring. “Mind your own business, geek,” shouted a young man wearing a letterman’s jacket.

“Bite me, Crabtree,” she said, stepping off the road.

“Don’t let them bother you, ma’am,” said a deep voice from behind her.

Kit turned around to find a tall handsome police officer smiling down at her. “Hello, Charles,” she said.

He smiled broadly. “Why do you always seem to find trouble, Kit?”

“I don’t know,” she said smiling back at him. “Why are you always the one that comes when I call 911?”

“I guess I’m just a glutton for punishment.”

She nodded.

“You’re still mad at me aren’t you?”

“Why should I be mad at you? All you did was sleep with my best friend.”

“I said I was sorry.”

“Two weeks before our wedding?”

He opened his mouth and then closed it. “It’s useless to argue with you. Let’s just get this over with and go on about our lives. Okay?”

“Why are you taking this so lightly? Gunny is dead! Have you no heart?”

The officer stood still for a moment. “I thought I recognized the truck,” he said quietly. “How is she taking it?”

“How do you think?”

“Kit, I am trying here, okay.”

“Okay,” she said looking down at the mud clinging to her hiking boots. “I’m sorry. Callie is pretty torn up about it. She doesn’t believe it, of course.”

“Of course,” he nodded. “But, accidents do happen, especially on this road.”

“What do you mean?”

“The cattle out there,” he pointed to a clump of black in the distance. “They don’t have a fence to keep them off the road. We get three or four accidents involving cows and cars every week.”

“You would think someone would do something about it then.”

“You would think, but no one’s been hurt.”

“Until now.”

He nodded. “Until now. Maybe this will cause something to change.”

Kit nodded. “So, it was an accident?”

He nodded.

“Are you sure?”

“Kit, you’re doing it again. Just leave the investigating to the professionals. Stay out of this, it’s a police matter.”

She sighed. “Will you let me know what you find out?”

“No. As I said, it’s a police matter.”

“So, you don’t think it’s an accident either?”

He closed his eyes and snorted. “Kit, put a lid on it,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Okay, okay. I’ll just go back and console my roommate.”

“Yeah, why don’t you do that?”

“Yeah, why don’t you do that,” she muttered as she made her way toward Callie, who was now sitting on a fallen tree stump. “Come on,” Kit said, putting an arm around her friend and helping her to her feet. “Let’s go home.”

“What about our assignment?”

“I’m sure Professor Johnston will understand.”

Callie nodded.

Kit supported her by the elbow as they made their way to the 1992 Toyota that belonged to Callie.

“You drive,” she said, handing Kit the keys.

“Okay.”

The two got into the car and sped along the road toward their dormitory.

***

“I can’t believe he’s dead,” Callie sobbed. “Gunny was the best thing that ever happened to me. Who could have done this to him?”

“Callie,” said Kit, “the police say that it was an accident. The car ran off the road in the storm.”

“I know you don’t believe that. I know you better than that, no matter what Charles thinks.”

Kit looked at the floor. “You’ve got me. I don’t believe it was an accident, but I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Follow your gut.”

“I will.” She sighed. “Did Gunny have anyone who didn’t like him?”

“No, not really. He was a good guy.”

“True, what about another girl friend?”

“He was popular, but, I was his only girl friend.”

Kit tilted her head toward her friend and stared at her.

“I wish you wouldn’t look at me that way,” Callie said. “Your green eyes burn into my soul and make me want to tell you everything.”

“So?”

“Okay, he told me last Tuesday that a man asked him to throw the football game last Saturday.”

“But, we won.”

“Yeah, he couldn’t do something like that.”

Kit nodded. “I’ll get to the bottom of this. You lie down and try to get some sleep.”

“Okay, you’re a good friend,” Callie said as she closed her eyes.

“Yeah,” said Kit reaching for a sweat jacket as she hurried out the door.

***

Kit sighed deeply as she turned her 1997 Jeep Wrangler into the long driveway that lead to her father’s estate. “If anyone would know about this he would,” she thought as she passed the wrought iron gate and pulled around back to the “servants” entrance. She rang the buzzer and the gate opened immediately. She parked her car at the back door and got out. Two men in blue suits raced toward her. “John,” she said, “what’s the matter?”

“Miss Granger,” said one of the men, “it’s your father, he’s been taken ill.”

“What?”

“John,” said the other man, “said that your father is sick. We’ve been trying to get a hold of you, but all we got was voicemail on your cell phone.”

She reached for the phone that hung in a holster on her hip. “I’ve had it with me all day.” She looked at it. The display was blank. “Umm, I guess it’s not turned on.” She pressed the power button and nothing happened. “Dead battery, figures.” She returned the phone to its holster. “Tell me what’s wrong with Daddy.”

“He’s been having chest pains and trouble breathing,” said John. “The doctor is with him now.”

Kit pushed past the men. “I’m going to see him.” She ran into the kitchen and up the back stairs to her father’s room. She stood before the door and took a deep breath. “Here we go,” she thought as she opened the door.

The room was large, heavy drapes hung across the windows. Her father lay in the middle of the large bed that graced one wall. He looked small and frail, though he was always a large strong man.

“Daddy? It’s me Kit.”

He looked at her and waved her closer.

“What happened, Daddy?”

“It seems I’ve had a heart attack, Kitten,” he said. “Did that worry-wart John call you? He’s just like an old woman.”

“Daddy, John is a good man.”

“I know that, but he shouldn’t worry you.”

“Daddy, I wanted to come. Actually, John didn’t call me. I have to ask you something.”

“Okay,” he said, visibly bracing himself.

“Do you know of anyone who would want to see Grand University loose a football game?”

He sighed slightly. “Most alumni from other schools, I would assume.”

She glared down her nose at him. “Daddy, I’m serious. Callie’s boyfriend, Gunther, was approached about that very thing last Tuesday.”

“Did this Gunther say who approached him?”

“No, he couldn’t. He’s dead.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. What did Callie say about it?”

“Just that it happened. I thought you might know something.”

“There are some unsavory elements in this city that might be behind this.”

She sighed. “You’re right. I shouldn’t bother you about this. Forget I came.” She turned to leave.

“Kit, come here,” he said quietly.

She moved closer to her father.

“Closer.”

She obeyed.

He kissed her cheek, and then moved close to her ear. He spoke so softly that she could barely hear him. “Ask John Zhou, he runs all the gambling around here. He’ll know who would have an interest in throwing a football game.”

She smiled and kissed his cheek. “Thank you Daddy, and take it easy.”

“I’ll take it anyway I can get it.”

She smiled and left the room.

***

Kit walked into the ornately decorated Chinese Restaurant. It was fairly crowded for a weekday afternoon. She figured the lunch rush was in full swing.

A small woman of slight build approached her. “Will this be for here or to go?”

Kit looked at the woman and blinked. “Ah, no, I mean, neither,” she said. “I’m looking for Mr. Zhou.”

The woman nodded. “Follow me,” she said as she led Kit through the double doors to the kitchen. They went past the large stoves and deep fryers. Cooks were tossing broccoli and beef, and cabbage mixtures in large woks. Flames rose here and there. The smell of ginger and soy sauce permeated the air.

The two women left the kitchen through a narrow door in the back behind the large refrigerator. They entered a long narrow hall that opened up into a large office. Three men sat against one wall of the office.

Another man, in a dark green suit sat behind the desk, typing slowly on a laptop computer. “Suzie,” he said looking up, “don’t you knock?”

“I’m sorry Mr. Zhou, but she wants to see you.”

Zhou looked at Kit. “Candace Granger, it’s nice to see you again. How is your father, the Mayor?”

“It’s Kit, and Daddy is just fine.”

He nodded slightly. “What is it that brings you here?”

“I have some questions to ask you, for a friend.”

“I am an open book, Miss Granger.”

Kit sighed. “Gunther Villarreal is dead.”

Zhou gasped. “How did it happen?”

“Car accident.”

“Too bad, he was a great football player, I’m shocked.”

Kit ignored the false sincerity. “His girlfriend said that he may have been asked to throw the game last Saturday.”

“Again, I’m shocked. Who would ask such a thing? Betting on College Football is illegal.”

“Daddy said you might know who would be into that sort of illegality.”

“Mind you, I don’t do that sort of thing myself, but if I did, I wouldn’t drown someone for not doing my bidding.”

She sighed. “Okay, I’m sorry to bother you Mr. Zhou. Thank you anyway.”

“Anytime, Miss Granger, give my regards to your father.”

Kit nodded and left the way she had come.

***

Kit sat at a table in the small diner across from her old boyfriend Charles. Both sipped at the hot coffee they had ordered. “Thank you for coming,” she said.

“I never could resist you.”

She smiled. “I think I know who killed Gunny.”

“Okay.”

“John Zhou.”

“Nope.”

“What?”

“He has an alibi. In fact, he was the first one that we looked at, since Gunny was a star football player and everyone knows that Zhou is into gambling.”

“So, what was he doing when Gunny was killed?”

“First off, Gunny wasn’t killed. His car slid off the road. It was an accident. But, if he were killed, Zhou is not the killer.”

Kit glared at the man across the table from her.

“Zhou was dining at his restaurant all night. It was a family party, there were twenty guests and they all saw him. His picture was in the paper, with his 102-year-old grandmother. It was her birthday party.”

“But, how did he know Gunny was drowned?”

“Kit, you really should read the paper more. Gunny’s accident was front page news for two days.”

She sighed. “I’m back where I started.”

“Let it go.”

“I can’t, Callie’s my friend. I owe it to her.”

He shook his head. “Whatever. Just go home, go back to school and try to finish a degree.”

“That really bothers you doesn’t it?”

“Not anymore. I used to care about everything that happened to you, now, I don’t. I’m just numb.”

“What happened to us?”

“I don’t want to get into that again. I can’t.”

She looked deeply into his eyes. “It still hurts doesn’t it?”

He looked away.

“Well, I hurt too. But, I’m ready to move on. That’s the other reason I wanted to see you,” she said.

“What, you’re breaking up with me again?”

She sighed. “Yes, sort of, I just want to be friends. I want us to be civil to one another. I don’t want us to fight anymore. I’m tired.”

He looked at the table. “I’m sorry; I guess I’ve been acting like a jerk. I don’t deal with women very well.”

She smiled in agreement.

“That’s why Chrissy left me. She won’t even call me. I can’t help it. Loosing you was the worst thing to ever happen to me. Kit, I’m still in love with you. I can’t be just your friend.”

“Can you try?”

“If it will help ease the pain,” he sighed.

“I don’t know, but it’s a start.”

He nodded. “I’m really sorry, you know.”

She smiled. “I didn’t until now.”

He leaned close to her. “I can’t work on a closed case. But, if you find out something, let me know. I can get it reopened.”

She kissed his forehead. “Thank you, Pooky.”

He smiled. “It’s been a long time since you’ve called me that.” He sighed. “It feels good.”

She smiled. “Let’s take it slow.”

He nodded. “I have to get back to the station. I’ll call you.”

She nodded. “Bye Pooky,” she said quietly as she watched him leave the diner. She sat there for more than an hour sipping her coffee and reflecting upon what the police officer had told her. “If it wasn’t Zhou,” she said quietly into her cup, “then who was it?” She watched as one small bubble swirled around the top of the cup. She sighed. “I might as well just go home. Maybe something will come to me in the morning.” She paid her bill and left the diner.

***

A loud banging on her dorm room door awakened Kit.

Callie stumbled to the door and peered out the peephole. “It’s the cops,” she said through clenched teeth.

Kit sat up in bed and pulled the blanket around her shoulders. “Let them in.”

Callie opened the door and three police officers stood in the hallway, one of them was Charles. “Thank you, Callie,” he said, looking past her to Kit. “Candace Marie Granger, you are under arrest for the murder of Gunther David Villarreal.”

Kit blinked, and stared at the man in her doorway. “What do you mean?”

He approached her and sat on the edge of the bed. He placed his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, but you will have to get out of bed and get dressed. You will have to go downtown with us.”

She nodded and stood up. A female officer followed her into the bathroom and watched as she dressed.

Charles stood quietly.

Callie stared at him. “How could you?”

He looked at the floor and sighed deeply. When Kit reappeared he began the familiar speech. “You have the right to remain silent. The right to speak with an attorney and to have an attorney present during questioning.” He swallowed hard. “Do you understand these rights?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Do you wish to waive your right to remain silent?”

“No, but please allow me to call my attorney.”

He nodded. “Very well, you may make a phone call when we get downtown.”

“Thank you.” She allowed him to place the handcuffs around her wrists.

“I’m sorry, I have to.” He said very quietly into her ear as he tightened the cuffs.

“I know.”

He indicated the female officer with his chin. “You’d better go with Officer Johnson.”

Kit nodded and followed her out of the building.

“Go on,” he said as the others left the room, “I’ll be with you soon.” He turned to Callie. “Has she told you anything?”

“I don’t think I should tell you. Didn’t she just ask for a lawyer?”

He nodded.

“Then, I will speak with you later. I need to call her father to find out who her lawyer is.”

“Dan Cheatum.”

“That’s a joke isn’t it?”

Charles scowled. “No, he’s her family lawyer.” He lowered his voice. “Tell her I’m really sorry, will you.”

Callie snorted as she pointed to the door.

He nodded and left the room.

“Dan Cheatum,” she snickered.

***

The interrogation room was cold; the stark gray walls loomed around Kit. She sat in a dark gray metal chair, at a darker gray metal table. All she could do was wait. “I know why they arrested me,” she thought. “My foot prints are all over the site. I should have been more careful.” She shook her head. “I know better.”

Suddenly, the door opened and a tall man with curly black hair walked in. “Hello, Kit,” he said.

She stood and ran too him. She threw her arms around his neck and whispered into his ear. “Uncle Dan, I didn’t do it. But, I think I know who did.”

“Kit,” he said ever so quietly, “you shouldn’t have gotten involved. They arrested you because you were the only one on the scene. Your footprints are all over the place.”

She pulled away and sat in the chair. “Are my footprints all they have?”

He looked up at the two-way mirror and winked. “They’re still listening you know.”

She sighed. “They are a bunch of turkeys and wouldn’t know Yugoslavian from Ancient Egyptian,” she said in perfect Yugoslavian.

The attorney snickered and replied also in perfect Yugoslavian. “You are so right. They have other circumstantial evidence.”

She shrugged.

“Poor old Gunny was heart broken.”

“Heart broken?”

He placed his hands over his chest and pressed. “Heart broken.”

She nodded. “They think I did that?”

“They don’t know.”

“Okay,” he said in English, “your father has posted your bail, so you are free to go. But, I want you to come with me to my office. We need to discuss your case.”

“Okay,” she said in English, “I just wish I knew what was going on.”

“Me, too. Me, too.”

****

Kit and her attorney walked along the sidewalk beside the park. The birds twittered in the trees, the leaves rustled.

“Uncle Dan,” she said looking down at the sidewalk, “what couldn’t you say in there?”

“Kit,” he said with his hands over his own chest. “Gunny’s chest was crushed. They think you did it.”

“How can I crush a man’s chest?”

“Excessive pressure, bruised his sternum, and broke several ribs.”

She winced.

“To top it off, there was a brick found on the floorboard of the truck.”

“Were there any brick shaped bruises on him?”

“That’s the funny part, the brick didn’t touch him. And it didn’t break the window, it was just there.”

“How strange, so the pressure bruises killed him?”

“No. He drowned. The coroner said that he could have survived his injuries if he were treated in time. But, as it was, he drove into the water, instead of the hospital.”

“How do you know he drove into the water?”

“Because, he was alive when he went in. He had creek water in his lungs.”

“Did he have anything else in his system?”

“Like what?”

“Like drugs or alcohol?”

“From what I’ve found out, they didn’t even check. He was drowned and they just stopped looking.”

She sighed deeply. “Can you get them to do those tests?”

“Sure, but it won’t do any good. The kid killed himself.”

“But, the police say I killed him.”

“They’re wrong, and I’ll prove it.”

“Thanks Uncle Dan.” She looked around. “This is my building. Would you like to come in?”

“No, thank you,” he said, “I have to get back to the office. I have work to do.”

“On my case?”

“That too.”

“What else?”

“I have something I need to do for your father.”

Kit nodded. “Yeah, I forgot you’re his attorney.”

The lawyer nodded and took his leave of the young woman.

She stood outside her dormitory for several minutes, staring at the side of the building. “A brick on the floor board? Why?” She shrugged and climbed the stairs. A brick lay outside the door. “Some people just don’t understand security.” She picked up the brick and stared at it. “Oh my God, I know why there was a brick on the floorboard.” She ran up the stairs and into her room, still holding the brick.

“Kit,” said Callie, rising up on one elbow from her bed, “what are you doing here?”

“Daddy bailed me out. But, I have to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“I know how Gunny got into the creek.”

Callie sat straight up in bed. “How?”

“There was a brick, found inside the truck.”

Callie nodded.

“I think it was used to hold down the gas pedal while the truck ran off the road and into the creek.”

“That sounds about right.”

Kit raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Well, some of Gunny’s football friends were talking about how easy it was for them to drive home, while they were passed out.”

“How?” Kit tilted her head toward Callie.

“They put a brick on the gas pedal and the car goes almost straight to their dorm. The brick falls off when the car hits the curb. Then it rolls to a stop in the yard. They all have bricks in their cars.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

“No, there’s never anyone out on the road that late at night, except for a cow or two.”

“What happened to Gunny? Why was his car backwards in the creek?”

Callie shook her head and fell back onto the bed.

“I’m going to talk to some of his football buddies, as much as I don’t want to.”

Callie sobbed into her pillow. “Do you want me to go with you?”

“No, I can handle them.”

“Okay,” Callie’s voice was little more than a squeak.

“Sure,” Kit said, as she walked out the door. “Take care.”

***

Kit stood on the sideline, watching the football team practice. The players ran up and down the field and rammed one another with such force that even she from half the field away could hear shoulder pads crashing together. Every time two of the men collided, she cringed. One man, Chester Crabtree, was especially violent in his collisions. She watched as he barreled over one man after another. Crabtree hit one teammate so hard he was knocked unconscious.

“Coach,” Kit asked, “is Jason going to be all right?”

“Miss Granger is it,” said Coach Davenport, an older man in gray sweats.

Kit nodded.

“Carlson is one of our best players. He’s tough. Crabtree couldn’t hurt him.”

She nodded. “What about Gunny? Who would have wanted to hurt him?”

The man stroked his chin thoughtfully. “No one that I know of. All the guys liked him.” He snorted. “He would have led us to a bowl game.”

“Would have?”

“Yes, he was the best. We are all going to miss him. I only wish this were finished.”

“I can understand that. This sort of thing is very stressful.”

“True, but besides that, we can’t go to any bowl games until the incident is resolved.” He shook his head. “Unfortunately, we will forfeit Saturday’s game if this isn’t cleared up by then.”

“But, the police are calling it suicide. Isn’t it taken care of?”

“Well, no. It seems that someone,” he glared at Kit, “has raised questions about what happened. So, the case is still open.” He sighed. “Gunny would have wanted us to go to a bowl game.”

She nodded slowly. “I hope it gets taken care of soon.”

He shook his head. “It’s too late. We’ve lost. Even if the matter is taken care of today, I turned in the paperwork last night.”

“Do your players know?”

“No. I was going to tell them after practice.”

“Well,” she sighed. “Thank you, Coach.”

“Tell your father hello for me.”

She nodded and moved away from the field. As she walked toward the exit, she could hear the coach’s whistle. Then she heard the team, cheer. “They took it well,” she thought.

The last thing she heard as she left the stadium was silence. She turned to see the team dragging their pads toward the locker room. A sullen tone colored their movements.

“It’s Granger’s fault,” shouted one of the players.

“Kit Granger!” Crabtree shouted running toward her. “Don’t leave until I have a talk with you.”

Several of his teammates followed suit. “Kit! Kit! Kit!” They shouted as they raced toward her.

She stood frozen in her tracks, not sure whether to run or to stand her ground. “No,” she thought, “I’ll never out run them. They’ll kill me.” She inhaled sharply, and stood to meet the coming onslaught.

Suddenly, the Coach appeared out of nowhere. “It’s not her fault,” he said, “leave her alone.”

“What do you know, old man,” said Crabtree. “She started this, and I’m going to finish it.”

“Chester,” the Coach said, taking the boy by the arm. “I can’t let you do this. It’s too late. Just turn yourself in and everything will be alright.”

The boy frowned. “What are you talking about,” he said. “I didn’t do anything.” He looked at Kit and sneered. “At least not yet.”

“Its okay, Chet, I know it’s been tough, with your mother ill and all that. The stress must be unbearable. No one will blame you for what you did.”

“Coach, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The Coach looked at Kit and smiled softly. “The boy is distraught. These things happen after a traumatic event. He’s in denial.” He snorted. “He’s trying to blame everyone else for what he did. Classic denial.”

Kit frowned. “Chester?”

The boy shrugged, his mood softened. “I don’t like you, Granger, but I truly have no idea what the Coach is talking about.”

“Chet, my boy,” the Coach said, “just admit that you killed Gunther and all this will be over.” He looked around. “Tell the nice officers that Chester Crabtree killed Gunther Villarreal.”

Kit looked around. “Who are you talking to?”

“The police, they’re all over. Look for yourself.”

Kit looked at Crabtree and shrugged.

He shrugged back.

She sighed, as she pulled her cell phone from her purse and dialed the all too familiar number that was Charles’ cell phone. “Hello, Charles,” she said, “I’m at the stadium. I think there are some men here that need to speak to you.”

“Kit,” said the man on the other end of the line, “I’ve been watching you all day. I’m right outside.” He paused. “In fact, I’m standing about 5 feet behind you.”

“Did you hear what Coach Davenport said?”

Charles sighed. “Yes,” he said approaching the group. “David Davenport,” he moved behind the Coach, “you’re under arrest for the murder of Gunther Villarreal.”

“Charles,” the Coach said, “my boy, you know me better than that. I could never hurt a player. Why would I kill my star player?”

“Your gambling debts for one,” said Kit. “It’s a well known fact that you gamble and that you are good friends with John Zhou. Zhou wanted the game thrown, and would release you from your debt if you did that for him.”

“That’s totally wrong. John didn’t want the game thrown.” The old man smiled. “I did.”

Crabtree clenched his fists. “What!”

“I didn’t think you boys were up to going to a bowl game. You’re weak. Hell, Chester, you couldn’t even do a simple murder without running scared. I had to take care of the whole thing myself. It was easy, especially after you knocked him unconscious with your brute strength. All I had to do was put him into his truck and give it one good push.” He pantomimed a push with his shoulder. “There you are,” he wiped his hands together, “all nice and finished.” He looked around. “Don’t you think was brilliant, mother?”

Crabtree looked around. “Now, who is he talking to?”

Kit sighed. “I think he’s finally gone off the deep end, Chet.”

Crabtree nodded, and gently assisted the police in taking the old man to the patrol car.

Kit sighed and made her way back to her room to tell Callie the news.

The end.