Brock laughs. “Oh, so now you think Braden killed him?”
“No!” I shove his arm like I’m just kidding around. “I’m just doing like those crime shows do and coming up with ideas of why someone would want him dead. In those shows, they’d have at least one of the football players be a suspect. And then probably the guy’s girlfriend, and maybe someone from his past.”
“Have you considered writing for TV?” He smiles. “You might have a future in it.”
I look out at the field. “I was just trying to come up with something to talk about.” I pause. “So Jason and Braden weren’t friends. But Braden was friends with Jackson?”
Brock’s eyes are on me, but I keep mine on the field. “You’re good at remembering names. First Jason, then Jackson. Even I can’t remember them, and they both used to hang out at my house.”
“They did?” I turn to him. “So Jasonusedto be friends with Braden?”
“When he first started at Twisted Pine. But you know how it is at your age. You’re friends with someone one day and the next day you’re not.”
“Was it because of football? Is that why they weren’t friends anymore? Because Braden didn’t think Jason should be quarterback?”
“I’m sure that was part of it. I wasn’t around much back then. I was filming a TV show in Atlanta. Didn’t even air six episodes and they pulled it.”
He can’t stop talking about his acting career. He’s completely self-centered. All he wants to do is talk about himself. Most parents could talk for hours about their kids, but Brock can’t even talk about them for a few minutes before bringing the conversation back to himself.
“Maybe Jackson killed him,” I say in a joking tone.
Brock sighs. “Nobody killed Jason. He had a heart condition.”
“But if he didn’t, Jackson could be another suspect, right? I mean, if he’d stayed at Twisted Pine, he would’ve been competing with Jason to be the top player, unless he got rid of him.”
“Jackson isn’t a quarterback. He wouldn’t have seen Jason as competition. If anything, he would’ve wanted Jason there to help the team win. He would’ve pickedhimover Braden.”
“But Braden and Jackson were friends back then.”
“Yes, but Jason was better on the field. Jackson wants to win for the team. Braden wants to win for himself. There’s a difference.”
“I heard something else last week.” I pause, not sure if I should bring this up, but as long as we’re talking about murder, I might as well. “Something about Braden.”
“What now?” Brock asks, sounding exasperated. Braden must get in trouble a lot.
“It’s not anything recent. It happened last year, I think. Something about a girl falling over one of those plexiglass railings like you have at your house?”
Brock clears his throat. “The girl was drunk. She was being careless. The very idea that people would eventhinkto accuse Braden sickens me.” He lowers his voice. “Half of the people sitting behind us right now were bringing up Braden’s name after it happened. And they wonder why I don’t participate in parent activities. How would they feel if I accusedtheirchild of a violent crime?”
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. I was just saying what I heard.”
“Stop listening to it,” he says, his jaw clenched. “If they bring it up, just walk away.”
I nod and look back at the field as the announcer comes on.
“I think it’s starting,” I say.
Brock isn’t paying attention. He’s back on his phone.
The players run out on the field, and the crowd, which isn’t much of a crowd, gets up and cheers.
“There’s Braden,” I say, nudging Brock.
He glances up. “I need to go make a call.”
“Right now? The game’s about to start.”
“Like Harris said, it’ll be a dull game. I doubt the opposing team will even score.” He gets up and goes past me. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
