Read Online Trial by Fury by J. A. Jance - Free Book Online

inside in a minute."
    "Was he?"
    "No. He didn't come in for a long time. In fact, he got to the dressing room just before we had to go out and warm up. He didn't even have time to give us our pep talk."
     
    "That was unusual?"
    "You'd better believe it."
    "He was a good coach?"
    "The best."
    "So what happened during the game?"
    "We were leading by two points at halftime. He talked to us then, told us we were doing great." Payson paused.
    "And then?" I prompted.
    He frowned. "Just before time to go back on court, someone came to the door and talked to him."
    "Did you see who it was?"
    "No. They knocked. He opened the door and talked through the crack to whoever it was. After they left, he went over and sat down on one of the benches. He told us to go on, that he'd be out in a minute. He looked real upset."
    "There wasn't anyone in the hallway when you went out?"
    "No. At least I didn't see anybody."
    "And did he come right out?"
    "I don't know exactly when, but it was after the half started."
    "That was unusual?"
    "I told you. Coach Ridley was a good coach. He never missed part of a game before that, as far as I know."
    "What about after the game?"
    "We were pissed."
     
    "Why?"
    "The ref made a bad call in the last two seconds. They won by two points. On free throws."
    Payson was suddenly quiet. He sat there fingering the intertwined M and I emblazoned in white felt on his maroon letterman's jacket. He seemed close to tears.
    "What is it?" I asked.
    "He just walked off. I couldn't believe it. He never said anything to us. Not good game. Not nice try. Nothing. Not even a word about the bad call. It was like he couldn't wait for the game to be over so he could be rid of us."
    Payson was quiet again. There was more to his silence than just grief over the death of someone close to him. It wasn't an end of innocence, because I'm not so sure innocence exists anymore. But it was the end of something else--of youthful hero-worship, maybe--and the beginning of a realization of betrayal. It's hell growing up.
    "He didn't even leave us the damn cookies," Payson managed.
    "Cookies?" I almost choked on the word. "Did you say cookies?"
    Payson grinned sheepishly and swiped at his eyes. "Girl Scout cookies. Pretty stupid, huh? But it was a tradition. Every member of the team got his own personal box of cookies after the first game in the tournament--win or lose, it didn't matter."
    I hadn't expected an answer to the Girl Scout cookie question this early in the investigation. "Why Girl Scout cookies?" I asked.
    "Coach Altman, our first coach. His wife was a Girl Scout leader, and he always brought cookies. Coach Ridley said he was going to do the same thing. And he did, last year. I guess this time he just forgot."
    "He didn't forget," I said.
    Bob Payson's eyes lit up. "He didn't?"
    "The trunk of his car was full of Girl Scout cookies. Something kept him from giving them to you, but he didn't forget." It was small enough comfort, but Payson seemed to appreciate it.
    Embarrassed, he mopped a tear from his face. "Knowing that makes me feel better and worse, both. How come?"
    I shook my head. "Beats me," I said. "Can you think of anything else, Bob?"
    "No. Can I go now?"
    "Sure," I said, "you've been a big help. Thanks."
    As Payson got up, I glanced across the room to where Peters was talking to one of the cheerleaders. She had broken down completely. She had buried her face in her arms and was sobbing uncontrollably. Candace Wynn patted her shoulder and gently straightened the girl's hair.
    All other eyes in the room turned warily toward the weeping girl. Raw emotion can be pretty tough to take, especially when everyone is feeling much the same thing, but only one or two have nerve enough to express those feelings.
    The counselor leaned down and spoke into the girl's ear. She quieted some, and I went on to the next boy on the team. Peters finished with the cheerleading squad long before I had worked my way through the team. In the course of