The next morning, I went straight to Dad’s office—Aunt Rachel’s office.
“May I help you, Ms. Hubbard?” Kandace Jessup, Rachel’s head assistant asked.
“I was wondering about Bre Stanton’s belongings. Are they still in her desk?” From where I stood, her desk looked bare.
“Security removed everything from her desk.”
“Do you know what they did with it?”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t.” She lifted a brow. “Is there something you’re looking for?”
“It’s okay. I’ll contact Maker’s Mark security.”
As I walked toward my office, using my cellphone, I called the security department. They answered on the first ring.
“Hello,” I said, “this is Maeve Hubbard. I’m calling regarding Bre Stanton’s personal belongings in her desk. Where can I see her things?”
“Ms. Hubbard, all of the items in her desk were turned over to the police.”
My stomach sank.
“I hadn’t thought of that.”
“If you have any questions about anything in particular, Marvin Phelps was present when the police took possession of everything. He’s in the office if you’d like to speak to him.”
“Thank you. I would like to speak to him.”
I waved at Jen and pointed at the phone at my ear as I went into my private office.
“Ms. Hubbard,” a new voice said.
I pictured Marvin, a serious older man with white hair and glasses. He’d been with the Coopers for as long as I could remember. “Marvin, Vee here. Were you present when the police cleaned out Bre Stanton’s desk?”
“Well, Ms. Vee, Mr. Grant told me to clean out her desk the night of Mr. Hubbard’s service. I did it, not the police.”
While I wasn’t a legal expert, that seemed to be a chain-of-evidence breach.
“Did you give her things to the police?” I asked.
“No, ma’am. I left them in Mr. Marsh’s office. He gave them to the police.”
Chapter 19
Fin
* * *
Staring up at the ceiling in my room at the Embassy Suites, I longed to be with Vee. It was one thing to be separated when the Coopers played out of town. It was hell when we were playing at home. While it wasn’t an NFL-mandated rule, having home teams spend the night before the game in the same hotel was common practice. The camaraderie was supposed to help the players focus and rest. The Embassy Suites had nice-enough beds and rooms, but nothing was as restful as having her sexy, soft, warm body next to me.
I sure as hell wasn’t getting rest.
Tomorrow we would play the Indianapolis Colts at Crystal Light Stadium. The Colts started their season as our biggest conference threat with a 7–0 record. Then, the football gods saw fit to throw their team into injury purgatory. First, their kicker was hurt. One game, they couldn’t attempt any extra-point kicks. After each touchdown, they had to go for two points. Next, it was their defensive line, and the crowning blow, their backup quarterback broke his leg. They were currently 7–2.
In the weeks since returning from IR, Dennison had been unstoppable. His first game back, I watched in street clothes, still focused on the job Vee defined as healing. While I hated not suiting up, Dennison didn’t need Simpson or me. The Coopers outscored the Titans, winning with a score of 31–13.
The Falcons were our next opponent. It was our first home game since Reid Hubbard’s passing. The nonconference game started with a moment of silence for the Coopers’ owner. Our jerseys were now adorned with patches with his initials: RH. While I longed to stand at Vee’s side during the tribute, she was as solid as a rock. The cameraman caught a tear glistening on her cheek. During the Falcons game, I was finally suited up and sitting the bench as Troy Dennison did his magic. The Coopers won that game by a touchdown.
Last week we traveled to Kansas City, Missouri. It was a conference game, and I got to play. The score was lopsided with us in the lead. Pratt chose to rest Dennison. I played most of the fourth quarter and scored one touchdown.
