A Straw Man (The Clay Lion Series Book 3) by Amalie Jahn

Author:Amalie Jahn [Jahn, Amalie]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub, mobi
Publisher: BERMLORD
Published: 2015-06-09T04:00:00+00:00

C HAPTER TWENTY

FALL SEMESTER - THIRD YEAR

Lesley jabbed me on the back of my arm. “Mel, you’re totally distracted. What the heck?”

“Huh?” I mumbled, looking up from the notebook on my lap.

“Groceries! I was asking about groceries for the tenth time. I’m going to the store after class. Do you need anything?”

I quickly mulled over a mental inventory of my stash in the fridge. “Nah. I think I’m good. Thanks for asking though.”

She threw her backpack over her shoulders, stepping out of the galley kitchen into the den where I was sprawled out on the sofa. “What in the world has you so preoccupied these days? And don’t tell me school because we’ve barely even started.”

“It’s nothing important,” I said, closing the notebook with a loud slap.

“You’re a bad liar, Melody Johnson, but it’s fine. Have your secrets.” She winked at me. “I’ll be back before dinner,” she called over her shoulder as the door closed behind her.

I was relieved to finally have the apartment to myself because she was right - I wasn’t working on homework, although I’d already finished the handful of projects my professors assigned the week before. Instead, I was making a detailed list of the events leading up to Sam and Nate’s fight. I’d already spoken with most of their friends, including each of the players who witnessed their confrontation in the locker room on the day of the accident. There was only one other person I still needed to hunt down.

As soon as Lesley’s car was safely out of the parking lot, I grabbed my bike and headed across Grounds. It was going to take a little luck with the traffic lights and some fast pedaling if I was going to make it to the gym before football practice was over so I could ambush the coach before he left. It was time to grill him for information.

“Who did you say you were again?” he asked as he hurried across the pavement.

I raced behind him, towing my bike along beside me. “I’m Melody Johnson, Nate Johansen’s girlfriend. Or ex-girlfriend I guess.”

He turned sharply on his heel, stopping in the middle of the road. “I banked on that kid, you know that?” He was angry now, irritated to irate in just under a second. “When I recruited him I expected he would play all four years.”

I wanted to tell him that he didn’t hold the monopoly on people Nate let down, but I thought better of it as I psyched myself up to deliver the speech I’d prepared.

“I know he disappointed a lot of people with his behavior over the past year, but I’m trying now to get to the root of his problems. I just wondered if you wouldn’t mind telling me exactly what happened during practice in the days before Sam’s death.”

“Stupid kid,” he mumbled under his breath as he fumbled for his keys and continued walking toward his truck. I didn’t know to which kid he was referring – Sam or Nate or me.

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