Veronica Mars (2): An Original Mystery by Rob Thomas: Mr. Kiss and Tell by Rob Thomas & Jennifer Graham

Author:Rob Thomas & Jennifer Graham [Thomas, Rob && Graham, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Media Tie-In, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths, Thrillers, Crime, Mystery, Adult, Contemporary
ISBN: 9780804170727
Google: PITJoAEACAAJ
Amazon: 080417072X
Goodreads: 21437200
Publisher: Vintage
Published: 2015-01-19T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

That night, Dwayne took the Neptune visitors, along with three players they’d met earlier, for steak and seafood at a waterfront restaurant. The decor was mahogany and green carpet. A jazz quartet played in the bar. Lights from passing yachts twinkled in the bay. Otis sat between Josh Randall, a forward from some hog-farming burg in Missouri, and Isaiah Dempsey, a fast-talking guard from L.A. Across the table sat Art Templeton, a center from Juneau who looked like a six-ten Kurt Cobain. Between mouthfuls of rib eye and prawns, they engaged in a scholarly project of rating Nicki Minaj, Miley Cyrus, and Azealia Banks on a Mostly Hot to Mostly Crazy continuum. Veronica picked at her green beans and sipped Nebbiolo. During a lull in the conversation, she broke in.

“So, do you guys like Coach Bellamy?”

Art’s eyes lit up. He swallowed the mashed potatoes he’d just shoveled into his mouth. “Oh, man, Coach is great. I mean, all the coaches are—Coach Zabka is one of the smartest guys I know. He pushes us really hard, doesn’t let us slack. But Coach Bellamy’s more about encouraging us. Building us up.”

Veronica had met Coach Zabka that afternoon, a wiry man in his mid-sixties who wore a trim-cut suit. He’d greeted Otis without fawning—he was businesslike and polite, asking questions about Otis’s game and his goals, all of which were answered in mono- and duo-syllables.

“So Coach Bellamy’s the good cop?” Veronica asked.

“Yeah, I guess.” Art shrugged. “I mean, I want to get better, you know? You gotta have the bad cop around too. But we hear about every little thing we do wrong, so you learn to appreciate someone like Coach B.”

“He ain’t always good cop,” Josh said, eyebrows raised significantly. “Remember Tucson?”

“What happened in Tucson?” Veronica asked, putting her fork down.

The boys exchanged glances. It was Josh who spoke.

“Two years back, we went to a Thanksgiving tournament in Tucson and played Northern Arizona in the championship game. Well, when we all went back to the hotel, Coach B was just fine—but the next morning, he came down to the bus beat all to hell. Black eye, broken nose, the works. We were all ready to go find who’d jumped him but he told us he’d been out getting a beer the night before, and on his way home he saw a guy beating up his girl in an alley. He said he just kind of…snapped. Went berserk on the dude. He kept saying, ‘Guys, it wasn’t heroic, it was stupid, I should have just called the cops,’ but we were like, Coach B’s the man, you know?”

Veronica mentally filed Northern Arizona game; 2013; Thanksgiving tournament final. She took a sip of water, struggling to keep a neutral expression. It could be nothing, of course—a drunken brawl with a stranger, just like Bellamy said. But she pulled out her phone and texted Mac. Maybe she can check the game date on the 2013 schedule, pull up the Tucson hospital admits and police statements from that night, see if there’s another side to the story.

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