When the phone rang early Monday morning, they let the answering
machine catch it, thinking it was probably another reporter. Corey, her voice
shrill and anxious, came over the line. "Ty? Jess? Please pick up! I need
you!"
Ty grabbed for the receiver. "Corey? What is it?" A
second's pause, and he exclaimed, "What in the hell are they doing
there?" Then, "Okay. Hang tight. We're on the way."
He hung up, amid Jess clamoring to know what was going on.
"As we speak, the police are searching Gabe's house for God
knows what, and Corey's coming unglued."
Jess scrambled out of bed, making a beeline for the bathroom.
"Did they have a search warrant?"
"I assume so."
"And she has no idea what they're looking for?"
"She asked, but they wouldn't tell her. From the sound of it,
they're combing the entire house, and being none too timid about it."
Jess dragged a brush through her hair, gave her teeth and face the
once-over, and yanked on the first pair of jeans and T-shirt she touched. Her
shoes were still untied as she and Ty raced out the door. Fifteen minutes later
they screeched to a halt in Corey's driveway, parking behind half a dozen
police cruisers.
A distraught Corey greeted them at the door, flanked by a dour-looking
detective. "Ty, do something!" she wailed. "They're ransacking
my house!"
Indeed, the place looked as if a tornado had swept through it.
Cupboards, cabinets, bookshelves—literally every drawer and closet in the house
had been searched, without regard to neatness or replacing items which were
disturbed in the process.
Ty frowned, waving a hand at the resultant mess. "Is this
necessary?" he inquired of the man whose name tag read Detective Haggardy.
Rather than answering, the detective posed a question of his own.
"Who are you?" Obviously, he was not a football or Knights
aficionado.
"Ty James, a friend of the family. Corey called me, but it
looks like she should have called her insurance adjuster instead."
"And you?" Haggardy glowered at Jess.
"Jess Myers, also a friend. By the way, do you have a search
warrant, or did you simply barge in here illegally?"
The detective sneered and patted his pocket. "Right here. I
already showed it to Mrs. Rome."
At this point, another officer approached. "Nothing yet,
sir," he informed his superior. "We've looked in every nook and
cranny in the place. Garage, shed, basement, under the sink, in the pantry.
We've got a whole stack of stuff tagged and ready for transport to the lab, but
nothing looks promising."
"Go through it all again for anything you might have missed
the first time around," Haggardy directed grimly. "Did you search
both automobiles? What about the attic?"
"If you'd just tell me what it is you're looking for, I might
be able to help," Corey suggested tearfully. "At least tell me who
sent you."
"The judge did when he signed the search warrant,"
Haggardy said. He relented slightly. "I think this whole thing was started
by some doctor. That's all I can say."
Jess mulled the information over a moment, then asked, "Is
Mrs. Rome being charged with something? Should she contact her attorney?"
"That might not be a bad idea," Haggardy admitted.
"Does this have something to do with Gabe?" Ty inquired.
"Is it something he's supposed to have done? Or, since you mentioned a
doctor, is it connected with his illness in some way?"
Haggardy stood firm. "I'm not at liberty to divulge that
information."
"Who is?" Jess pressed.
"Mrs. Rome's attorney will be better able to determine
that," was all Haggardy would say.
Thirty minutes later, having all but demolished the interior of
the house, the police departed, taking with them several large boxes filled
with assorted confiscated items. Corey gazed around her in stunned dismay.
"My God, they even searched the chimney flue! There's soot all over, and
they tracked it onto the carpet!"
Jess shook her head. "Lord, what a mess! And I'll give you
ten to one they won't send in a cleaning crew, either."
"True, but on the bright side, they didn't haul Corey off in handcuffs,"
Ty pointed out.
"I expect that next," Corey added dismally. She sank to
the floor amid a pile of books tossed from the bookcase and started to cry.
"Why won't anyone tell me what's going on? What in heaven or hell is this
all about?"
"Your attorney will get to the bottom of it, Corey,"
Jess assured her, kneeling down beside her. "It may just take a while to
weave through all the red tape. Look, why don't you go visit Gabe, and get away
from all this for a while? Ty can go with you, and I'll stay and start cleaning
up if you'd like."
"I... I can't," Corey sobbed. "Gabe's got enough to
worry about without me adding this to his plate. He'll only get upset, and that
can't be good for him."
"On the other hand, maybe Gabe knows more at this point than we
do," Ty proposed thoughtfully. "Why don't we go find out? Jess, are
you sure you don't want to come along?"
"No. I've got my own agenda. First, I'm going to run back to
my place and grab the video camera and some film. Then I'm going to photograph
every room in this house, so Corey's lawyer can see what a shambles the police
made of it. That way, she might at least get reimbursed for any expense
incurred to set things to rights again, like shampooing the carpets for
instance. Then I'm going to attempt to forge a path, so she can get to the
bedroom and bathroom without breaking her neck. You could be a sweetheart and
bring back some sandwiches for lunch. I think I'm going to work up quite a
hunger."
Three hours later, and no sandwiches in sight, Jess was foraging
through Corey's refrigerator when Ty called. "I've got good news and bad
news," he began. "The good news is that we finally figured out, via
Gabe and the lawyer, why the police searched the house. The bad news is
they—the doctors and police, not Gabe—suspect Corey of poisoning Gabe."
"Corey? Oh, that's asinine!" Jess exploded. "She
worships the ground he walks on!"
"That's what Gabe told them, but they insist he's being
poisoned. They just don't know how, or if it's deliberate or by chance, so
they're covering all their bases, so to speak."
Jess eyed the lettuce she'd pulled from the fridge, and promptly
replaced it. "Did they say what kind of poison?"
"They're pretty sure it's arsenic."
"Arsenic?" she repeated stupidly. "I didn't think
that stuff was around anymore. At least not in the common household, like it
was in the old days."
"As I understand it, it's not as prevalent, or as easy to
come by. But it is still around, predominantly in pesticides and the like,
though not in any large quantities."
"And they think he's been consuming it?"
"That, or absorbing it through his skin somehow. They fairly
much ruled out breathing it in, or Corey would likely be sick as well. As a
matter of fact, they're running some tests on her, too. She and her attorney are
down in the hospital lab right now."
"Is that wise?" Jess asked. "I mean, it's one thing
to cooperate with the authorities when you're the victim, but when you stand to
be accused of a crime, even if you're one hundred percent innocent, isn't that
sticking your neck out? Our court system is not infallible, after all, and
innocent people are sometimes convicted, while real criminals walk free."
"You don't have to convince me," Ty told her. "But
after consulting with Corey and Gabe, her lawyer advised her to go ahead with
it. It's just one small step toward eliminating Corey as the perpetrator."
"So that's why they took all those cleaners and odd bottles
and cans from the house and garage," Jess mused. "They're looking for
anything containing traces of arsenic. Anything from bug spray to baking
soda."
"Yeah, talk about shades of
Arsenic and Old Lace,
huh?"
he said, alluding to the movie starring Cary Grant and Boris Karloff.
"So what's the prognosis for Gabe's recovery?" Jess
inquired. "Is there an antidote or something? Is he going to fully
recuperate?"
"They think so. He'll be hospitalized for a week or so, while
they flush out his system, but after that their main concern is that he not
ingest any more of it once he's home again. You don't necessarily have to get
it in one large dose. It can build up in your body bit by bit and kill
you."
Jess grimaced. "A lovely thought. Okay, so for now Gabe is
out of danger?"
"Yes."
"And they're allowing Corey in to see him?"
"Only at Gabe's insistence."
"Good for him. And her. Tell them I'm rooting for them, and
I'll be up to visit with him soon, if that's permitted."
"Will do. We'll see you soon. I'd guess about another hour
should do it. Do you still want that sandwich?"
"Forget it. I've lost my appetite."
By the time Ty and Corey got back, Jess had made decent headway
through the house. Everything was off the floor and approximately where it had
been before the police had rifled through it. Corey could readjust things to
their proper places later, but for now she wouldn't have to trip over anything.
Corey was appreciative, but still very distracted and distraught,
which was to be expected. "At least Gabe is on my side," she sighed.
"He knows I'd never do anything to harm him. Doesn't anyone understand
that I'd give my life for that man?"
"We do," Jess told her sincerely. "And anyone who
really knows you surely feels the same."
"Which brings us back to square one," Ty concluded.
"Where in blue blazes has Gabe come into contact with arsenic? Since Corey
tested negative, it probably isn't in anything around here, unless it's
something Gabe has sprayed for weeds or bugs."
"And then the police will automatically assume I've been
slipping it into his taco sauce," Corey added on a bitter note.
"More than ever, I feel like a jinx," Jess confessed.
"Ever since I've come on the scene, awful things have been happening to
people I know. First Ervin, then Allen, and now poor Gabe. Even Dino broke his
collarbone. I'm beginning to think someone is deliberately targeting anyone I come
into contact with, and if that's the case, I ought to stop hanging around Ty
and Josh so much, before some disaster strikes either of them."
"Now you're being silly, Jess," Ty told her with a
frown. "And your theory has a few holes in it, too. If—and I stress the
word 'if—someone was trying to hurt you in some way by causing calamities to
befall people you know, what's the deal with Ervin? You hadn't said three words
to the guy before you suspected him of giving away our signals. You barely know
Brice, and he got tagged for DWI. You and the Tanners are cordial enough, but
not bosom buddies, and it's not as if Sir Loin is your best pal. Furthermore,
nothing has happened to me or anyone connected with you outside the team."
Here he paused, as another possibility occurred to him. It hit
Jess at the same time. "The team!" they cried in tandem.
"Of course," Corey concurred, her eyes wide. "Why
didn't we think of it sooner?"
"Because we weren't looking at the whole picture," Ty
figured. "Most likely, we're still not seeing it all. For instance, why
would anyone target members of the team? For what purpose?"
Jess shrugged. "To make us lose games?"
Ty shook his head. "It's got to be more than that. We're just
starting out, for pity sake. It's not all that likely that in our first season
we'd end up knocking anyone out of the running for the Super Bowl. So where's
the big threat?"
"Bookies?" Jess hazarded. "Point spreads?"
"Maybe, but I've got a feeling it's more than that," Ty
concluded.
"Well, whatever the reason, and whoever is at fault, one
thing is clear. All these 'accidents' and 'incidents' haven't been accidents
after all. Someone is out for blood."
Ty nodded. "And completely without conscience, it seems. He
doesn't just wound, he kills, too."
"Let's back up a bit," Jess suggested, "and put
things into better perspective. Suppose someone is out to destroy the team and/or
its members. We don't know who or what his motive might be." She began
listing the incidents on her fingers. "One, Dino's mishap could be your
run-of-the-mill football injury, but Alan's sure as heck wasn't, and neither is
Gabe's. In that light, perhaps Ervin didn't hang himself out of remorse or fear
of incarceration. Maybe someone did the deed for him."
She'd ticked off four digits and went on to count three more.
"Now we have Sir Loin and Rick Tanner, and those dubious test results.
Plus, I have to wonder if Brice's DWI doesn't fall in there somewhere. Perhaps
something to do with his allergy medication?"
"Doc Johnson," Corey deduced immediately, her eyes
narrowing in righteous wrath. "He could have rigged those drug tests, and
he probably prescribed Brice's medication. Moreover, he was the one who
diagnosed Gabe's problem as the flu and kept tuning us out when we tried to
tell him otherwise."