The Murdered Football Player Ch. 02

"Me neither." said Coach Harlan, his voice a drawl. "Speedy, if something happens and this Jackson investigation goes against us or gets out of hand, I want you to make sure that Marshall takes the fall, understand? In fact, lay the groundwork with Ferrell now."

"Yes sir, Coach, yes sir. It'll be my pleasure..."

Part 8 - The Shadow Investigation

At 1:00pm I headed for Town Fitness Centers.

To my great fortune, an inquiry to my nephew Todd revealed that he was a friend of Teddy Franklin, who was a member of the unofficial SEX Fraternity. Todd had contacted Teddy on my behalf, and asked Teddy to meet us at the gym.

I went to the men's locker room and put on a swimsuit and headed into the sauna. It was not particularly hot. A few minutes later, Todd and another college age boy entered the sauna. Teddy Franklin had a full head of brown hair, was tall, slender and handsome. No wonder he had a hot blonde co-ed naked in his room, I thought to myself. He also had a quiet demeanor.

After introducing us, Todd got up and left.

"You sure nobody is going to come in and see us talking?" Teddy asked, nervous. "The coaches really drilled it into us not to talk to the police."

"We're not talking, this is totally unofficial and off the record." I said. "There won't be a note of it in existence, and nobody will know we even spoke. As to anyone coming in here? When Todd went out he secured the room, and no one else will be coming into here until we leave. One of the co-owners of this gym is my partner on the Police Force, the other is my former wife and we're on good terms."

"Yes, I've had the pleasure of meeting Melina. Okay, what can I help you with?" Teddy asked, relaxing.

"Jeff Jackson. What can you tell me about him?"

"Not a whole lot." Teddy said. "I didn't hang out with him very much. In fact, I often hang out with ROTC buddies or Todd and his friends more than other football players."

"Your unofficial fraternity has better parties, I take it?" I asked, smiling.

"The women are a whole lot classier than the football parties." Teddy said, grinning. "Which reminds me, I think Jeff may have gone to one of those unofficial alumni parties Friday night. None of the guys that went are saying a word. I'm guessing it was due to Jeff's death. The team is circling the wagons."

"I've heard a little about these parties, but tell me more." I said. "Fill me in on the inside scoop."

"Okay, usually a group of 10-20 players meet somewhere off campus. One of those big vans or small buses comes and picks us up."

"University buses?"

"I don't know, they're not marked."

"Who organizes the groups and arranges the meetings?'

"Usually a couple of Seniors on the team organize it. It's always players only. They try to make sure every player that wants to go gets at least one party a year, but some get extra of course. Nick Eastwood, the quarterback, he's on all the trips. Jeff liked them, also." Teddy said.

"And you went with Jeff to this party?"

"No, not this one, but I went on one with him last Spring, during Spring football practice." Teddy said. "What happens is we get on the buses and we can't see out and they tell us not to look out. We end up at some country club somewhere with a pool in warm weather, or some big house or chateau with an indoor pool in the winter. There are a lot of alumni at the party, and some of them bring their wives, who flirt with us."

"We talk football with the alumni, and players that want to can go with one of the wives, usually inside the club or into a bedroom somewhere, and we fuck the wives. I remember the first time I ever did it with a wife, she was hot but I was scared shitless that her husband would walk in. She told me that her husband knew, that he wanted me to fuck her, that he got off on it as much as she did, and that it was a perk for being a good football player for the school. I'm sure we're not the only school doing this shit."

"Not by a longshot." I agreed. "So players bang the wives and have a good time, maybe some booze, maybe some drugs?"

"No drugs, nobody plays that shit. These are pretty big-money alumni, so they're not going to risk that stuff. But there are beers and drinks, and the guys who want to fuck the wives do so while the rest socialize. At the end of the evening, the alumni tell us goodbye and we go inside the clubhouse or into another room in the chateau. The alumni throw money into the swimming pool, and then they all leave. We come out, get the money out of the pool. At all of the parties I've been to, we split the cash evenly, and any left over gets donated to a school charity."

"So you can't see where you're being taken to for these parties?" I asked.

"No, but we've figured it out." Teddy said. "Most of the summer ones are at the Lake Ocheekobee Country Club. I think it's south of here."

"In Coltrane County?"

"No idea."

"Sort of a dingy clubhouse with a big meeting room, couple of small offices to the side, sort of like an American Legion?"

"Yeah, that's a pretty good description." Teddy said. "And yeah, it's sort of like the American Legion where I played Little League baseball."

"Cool. That's a lot of help." I said. "So, do you know if Jeff Jackson had a girlfriend?"

"He played the field, a lot." Teddy said. "I heard rumors that he liked seducing other guys' girlfriends."

"Just one more question: did he ever have any racial issues with the black players?"

"No, nothing like that. He was pretty cool, bantered with the black players, but then we all do that. I heard him use the n-word a couple of times, but not like he was some kind of Klansman or anything."

"Okay, Teddy, you've been a tremendous help." I said. "By the way, if the SBI talks to you: don't lie to them, but be very choosy in what you say."

"I hear you." Teddy said. "Word is out big-time that they don't want to find anything wrong so they can call it a heart attack and let this die out."

"What do you think?" I asked.

"Maybe it was, but too much cover-up for me. Coaches are nervous. Hey, Don, can I ask a favor in return for this information?"

"Sure, and I'll do it if I can."

"Look... I'm a good football player, but I didn't make first string because the guy ahead of me is using performance enhancing drugs, boosters. I was offered the stuff but I didn't take it; I was afraid it would fuck up my ROTC and Army career, and I don't take shit like that anyway."

"You're right, it would, and I'm glad you didn't fuck up that way." I said.

"Look, I love the University, and I love football. There are a lot of good players. I don't want to fuck up the program or embarrass the School, but if I say anything about the PEDs out loud, the NCAA will come down on us like a ton of bricks, and I'll probably end up with you investigating my murder. But if there is some way you can fuck up the guys doing the PEDs and the guy distributing them without hurting the football program, I'd appreciate that."

"Who's the distributor? One of the players?" I asked.

"No. The Wide Receivers Coach. His name is Gonzales and we call him 'Speedy Gonzales'. He's a bad cat."

"Does Coach Harlan know about it? The other coaches?"

"I don't think the others do, but they'd look the other way on purpose. The strength coach, 'Iron Man' Marshall, he doesn't know; he tells us never to use that stuff and he'd beat the shit out of anyone trying to distribute the drugs. Harlan? He probably knows, he's aware of all the dirty stuff going on with alumni and recruiting, but he makes sure to keep himself away from it all."

"I'll see what I can do, Teddy. Thanks for the info. You go ahead and leave first." I said. Teddy got up and left, and I followed several minutes later after sifting the information that I had through my mind.

As I walked through the main gym, I saw Melina showing Cindy something in a big notebook. They looked up as I approached.

"Hi Don." Melina said. "I heard about your case being taken away. Daniel told me, said the whole Department is demoralized."

"Hi Beautiful." I said. "Yes, it's all part of the job."

"Well, did our sauna make you feel better?" Melina asked.

"Much better." I said. Cindy couldn't hide a smile.

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"So much for my first case." Martin Nash said ruefully, meaning the first case in which he'd been named lead investigator. He was sitting in my office, and it was 3:00pm. I had wanted to visit Coach Harlan on a "side" issue, but he was involved in practices. I figured I'd ambush him the next morning.

"Yeah, but knowing the perps in this Town, you'll have another case, and soon." I said. "So what did you want to see me about?"

"Well, I did a routine check on Jeff Jackson's parents," said Nash, "to see if they had any enemies that might want to get to them through their son."

"And of course you started this before we had to drop the case." I said. "I'm sure that's what happened, isn't that right?" I was steering Nash into an ass-covering excuse, and he caught on.

"Yes sir, of course." Nash said, something resembling what was for him a smile crossing his face. "I came across something, so the FBI ran a check. Here is what they just sent me."

"Before I open this, let me see what the vibe says." I intoned, letting my fingers rub the dossier on my desk in a circle. "I see.... I see a white supremacy group... I see the Jackson's associated with it... and someone else, another couple..." I opened my eyes and grinned. "Am I right?"

Nash smiled but I didn't quite get a laugh out of him. "Yes sir. You heard their comments, too, I take it?"

"Yeah," I said, "and naming their kid after Jefferson Davis is a pretty big neon red light. I don't know if Jeff was as racist as them, but it's an angle."

"Yes sir," said Nash,"but it's the other couple mentioned that shocked me."

"I can guess that, too." I said. "Captain Harold Malone had no sooner told us that the parents of the dead man were his close personal friends than I realized that we would find hardcore racists. And I'll bet this file says that Malone and his wife are friends of the Jacksons in association with the White Supremacists."

"You already knew?" Nash said, peering at me.

"Yeah, but he keeps it pretty well hidden around the clubhouse here." I said. "Let's keep this quiet and this file well-hidden for now, okay? It's not against the law to be a racist, only to act upon it, and Malone hasn't done anything. The less he knows what we know, the better. We'll stir that pot when the time comes, but it's not that time now."

"Yes sir." Nash said. "What do you want me to do now?"

"We're prohibited from investigating the Jackson case directly," I said, "but there are myriad side issues that can be looked into while we have some quiet time. Seems the criminals of our fair Town are staying quiet, perhaps anticipating the beginning of football season Saturday. If you're willing, we're going to start looking into some things. I want you to get with Myron Milton and try to get anything you can on these two people." I gave him a list with two names on it. "If the Chief or the SBI asks why you were looking into these guys, you tell them to come and ask me, and that it's about my dear nephew Ned."

"On my way."

Part 9 - Playing The Game

The sun had just set and Coach Erskine "Iron Man" Marshall was walking off the practice fields towards the coaches' offices for the post-practice review.

It had been a disturbing day. SBI Agents had talked to all of the coaches, but one of the Agents talking to him had been very harsh. That agent's name was Ferrell, he was really arrogant, rude and condescending, and he'd asked Marshall repeatedly if Marshall had distributed drugs or PEDs to players, or knew anyone that did. The questions weren't disturbing so much as Agent Ferrell's attitude towards Marshall, as if he, Marshall were lying in his answers. And Marshall had come to find out that none of the other coaches had been asked about drugs at all, and that their interviews had been five minutes max while Ferrell had grilled Marshall for almost 30 minutes.

On top of that, the other coaches, especially Head Coach Harlan and receivers Coach Gonzales had really given Marshall the cold shoulder treatment, and he'd seen those coaches talking and glancing his, Marshall's, way several times.

The coach's sense of foreboding mixed with his general unhappiness with this job. It had been a mistake to leave his old job for this one, despite making more money and the potential to be upgraded to a position coach. In addition--

Perhaps it was paranoia, but Coach Marshall felt as if someone was coming up behind him. Regular students as well as football players used this walkway, so when he turned around he was not surprised to see the shadow of a tall, black haired young man coming up behind him.

"Hi Coach." the kid said. All of a sudden, the kid stumbled. Coach Marshall grabbed him just as he grasped the coach's shoulders to avoid fall, and together they got the student upright again.

"Sorry about that, Coach." the young man said as he moved along, walking at a fast pace.

"Quite all right..." the Coach said. It had been dark, but there had been something familiar about that tall, slender, black-haired student. Then the coach realized that something was amiss, the kid's hand had gone into the coaches pants pocket for a second. He reached down into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.

Once he got to the coaches' offices, he went into his own tiny office and read the note. It was typed, and it read: "You are being watched by the SBI on campus and at your house. Fifteen minutes after going to your house, turn out all lights, go out the backdoor and through your back neighbor's yard to Cone Street. An old green car driven by a woman will be waiting for you. Go with her and she will explain everything."

This was crazy, Coach Marshall thought, but then he saw the signature. It said "Trigon Rules The Night."

A flash of a memory flooded the coach's mind as he recalled that "Trigon" was an ROTC squad at his old school that played the Opposing Force in field exercises... and that Don had been a part of it. No one on this campus could possibly know that, and would not know if they saw the message... this was from Don.

The post-practice session was mostly talking about the aftermath of Jeff Jackson's passing, and not one word was addressed his way. Coach Harlan let everyone go at 11:00pm. Driving to his modest residence, he noticed a car that seemed to be mimicking his route at a distance behind him.

Part 10 - Sloppy Seconds

"Oh yeah! Fuck me Pete!" Tanya gasped. She was sitting on the edge of her desk in her tiny Headquarters office, and Pete Feeley was standing in front of her, jamming his five inch cock up into her oozing wet twat. It was 9:30pm, and she had called him into the office just minutes before with the full intent of fucking him on her desk.

"Yeah, you love those sloppy seconds, don't you baby?" Tanya asked. Pete knew she would fuck another man then have him come and fuck her while full of the other man's come. He didn't like it that she was fucking other men, but she'd found a hot button of his in that he got off like gangbusters when fucking her cream-filled cunt.

Pete was stroking in hard then trying to scrape the other man's semen out of Tanya's vagina as he pulled his cockhead out of her. The sensations made Tanya's pussy burn with hot fire; she absolutely loved fucking Pete like this.

"Wanna know who's cum you're squishing into my pussy?" Tanya asked, her voice playful but filled with deep lust. "Wanna know who's sloppy seconds you're fucking?


"No." Pete said, "I just want to fuck you, baby."

"It's Hicks's sperm, baby... Patrolman Hicks fucked me just minutes before I called you in here." Tanya whispered conspiratorially. Pete had seen him walking down the hall looking satisfied. "Now fuck his sperm into a hot creamy lather and add your own big load to his, baby..." she said.

"It's... hard getting into you at this angle." Pete said. Tanya laid back onto her back on the desk. As Pete pulled her to the very edge of the desk and slammed his meat into her again, she groaned in pleasure.

The couple fucked hard and fast for another minute, Pete finally getting deep into Tanya and getting the stimulation he needed to get his rocks off. With a loud groan, he finally shot his load, which was not as big as Patrolman Hicks' had been, Tanya realized. Still, she loved the look on Pete's face when he came inside her.

"Mmm, baby, that was fantastic." Tanya said, sitting back up and kissing Pete's mouth. Just then her phone rang. "Pull your pants up." Pete did so as Tanya picked up the telephone receiver.

"Perlman.... oh, hi.... yes... you do?... positive results?... yeah, great! No, I'll come by and get our copies right now, okay?... Be there in a few. Bye."

"That was the University's Crime Lab." she said. "They have their reports ready for pickup. Let's go get them now; I don't want to wait until morning."

"I'll take you in the black patrol car." Pete said. The black patrol car was a nearly unmarked police car with no lights on top but imbedded into the car's frame. It was used for speed traps, but was useful at night for not being easily detected as a cop car.

They went to the University's Crime Lab, which was in the University Hospital's morgue in the basement. The lab technician gave them copies of the reports, having Tanya sign for them for chain-of-custody reasons that would hold up in Court.

On the way back, Pete Feeley said "I think we're being followed."

Tanya looked into her rear-view mirror on the passenger side. "You're right. Good catch. Want to lose them or interdict them?"

"You good for a shootout?" Pete said.

"Yep, I've got my vest on." Tanya said.

"Me too." Pete said. Just before getting to the road in front of the Police Station, Pete suddenly wheeled the car around in a 180 degree turn, as he had learned at police "defensive driving" school. Turning on his blue lights and bright flashing strobe lights, he revved the engine and hurtled right at the car that had been following them.

But the other car was quick to catch on. It was black, and the driver sped up and passed right by Feeley's car, forcing him to turn around again. By the time he was able to follow, the other car was gone.

"Damn!" Pete said.

"Let's go to Headquarters." Tanya said. "We've got to get these reports into the computers ASAP."

Part 11 - Trigon Rules The Night

Coach Erskine Marshall decided to follow the instructions in the note. He went out the backdoor and to the fence between his and his backyard neighbor's house. It was nearly midnight.

The neighbor's dog came up, barking once, but calmed down after recognizing its neighbor, the coach. The dog did not impede Marshall's progress as the coach easily scaled the fence and quietly slipped through the yard to Cone Street. Down the road to his right, about 20 yards away, was an old green car, it's lights off. A platinum blonde woman was in the driver's seat.

As he came up to the car, the woman said, "Coach Marshall, let's go. Quickly, please." He got in and the woman immediately started the car off and drove down the road, making sure not to go anywhere near Pine Street, the street the coach's house was on.

---------------------

"Did you hear a dog bark?" Dick Ferrell said, peering into the darkness. He was sitting in the driver's seat of the car and watching Coach Marshall's house. One front bedroom light was still on.

"Yeah, probably at some cat." Steven Ikea said. He was sitting in the passenger seat of the car. In clear violation of the Town & County Police Chief's orders, Ikea was helping Ferrell with the case, but for his own reasons.