Jack’s humor fled as he nodded. “Yeah. I’ll let you know what any of the boys say.”
His first stop at the school was to the principal’s office. Jacqueline Martine was a tall woman in her late fifties with short silver hair and sharp eyes that missed nothing. She stood when Jack entered, shaking his hand firmly.
“Detective Hudson. Sheriff Hudson called and briefed me. I want to be kept in the loop with whatever you find.”
“You will,” Jack assured her. “I promise.”
“Good.” Jacqueline's expression was fierce. “If someone on my staff is putting my students at risk, I want them out. Immediately.”
Jack nodded and left her office. He made his way through the familiar hallways… the same hallways he'd walked as a student a long time ago, and found Rachel's classroom. She was grading papers at her desk, but looked up when he knocked.
“Hey,” she said, surprise and relief crossing her face. “What are you doing here?”
He stepped inside and closed the door. “Thought I’d talk to the boys before practice.”
Rachel nodded, then stood and walked over, wrapping her arms around him. “How are you?”
“I have a lot to tell you, but no time right now.” Jack rested his chin on her head as he allowed the feel of her arms around him to settle the nerves that had been twitching inside since he’d talked to Carson. Then he leaned back, peered down into her eyes as his lips curved. “I'll call you later.”
“Yeah, that’d be good.”
He looked at her sweet smile and felt the world tilt back to where it should be. She’d always had that effect on him. Why the fuck did I ever walk away from her?
Down on the field, Carson found Jack first. “I talked to Robbie. He’s agreed to talk to you.”
Jack threw up a prayer of thanks. A few minutes later, he called Robbie, Ben, and Carson over before practice officially started. The other kids were still trickling onto the field, grabbing gloves from their bags and tossing balls back and forth to warm up. Jack kept his posture relaxed and casual, like he just wanted to check in with a few players before drills began.
“Hey, guys,” Jack said, gesturing toward the dugout. “Got a minute? Want to go over some stuff before we get started.”
The three boys exchanged glances. Robbie was immediately wary, his usual goofy grin not on his face. Ben walked behind him with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, his face pale and his jaw tight. Carson brought up the rear, his expression closed off and intense, his shoulders rigid with tension.
They settled onto the bench in the dugout, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the concrete floor. Jack sat across from them on the opposite bench, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, keeping his voice low and steady.
“Robbie, I know you saw something,” Jack said without preamble. “And you shared it with Ben and Carson. I know it's been bothering you, and I want to help, but I need to understand exactly what happened. Can you walk me through it?”
Robbie glanced at Ben, then at Carson. Carson gave him a small nod, and Robbie took a breath.
“It was during a freshman stunt.” Robbie’s voice tried to be casual, but there was an edge underneath it. “Well, mine was to hide in a locker in the boys’ locker room for fifteen minutes without getting caught.”
“Which locker were you in?” Jack asked.
“Third row from the door, about halfway down.” Robbie's hands fidgeted with the strap of his glove. “The one with the dent in the door. You can't miss it. Um… number 34.”
Jack made a mental note. “Okay. And what did you see?”
Robbie launched into the story, and despite his nervousness, his natural storytelling ability kicked in. He described squeezing into the locker, the smell of old gym socks and mildew, and the way the slats cut his view into narrow strips. He said he'd been counting down the minutes on his phone when he saw the varsity wrestler sit down on the bench.
“I couldn't see his face, but he had on the new wrestling shoes,” Robbie said, his words coming faster now. “The varsity all got those nice shoes in our school colors. All I cared about was him leaving before my time was up so that I could get out of there. And then this guy walked over. Had his hoodie up, back to me the whole time.”
“What did they say?” Jack kept his tone gentle, encouraging.
“The wrestler asked if they were supplements, and the guy said yeah. That they were better than what he’d been taking.” Robbie added, “Said they would help. The guy said they were legal. But he also said to keep quiet because not everyone would get them. Only the ones who could take them to state.”
Beside him, Ben shifted uncomfortably. His face had gone even paler, and he looked like he might throw up right there in the dugout. Carson sat perfectly still, his hands clenched into fists on his knees, his jaw so tight Jack could see the muscle jumping.
“Then what happened?” Jack asked.
Robbie's eyes widened slightly as the memory came back to him. “The student must have been nervous or something, because he dropped the pills. I heard them hit the floor… a bunch of them. The guy started cursing and called the kid clumsy. They both dropped down to pick them up, and the guy was like, really pissed.”
