Line of Scrimmage (28 page)

“Did you hear anything yet?” she asked Erin. “Did he even call you? What happened?”

“Easy, easy.” Scott rose from his chair, gave her a friendly hug, then eased her down next to Erin. “Let’s take this one thing at a time. Erin? How about telling us again what happened.”

“We need to start looking for him,” she insisted, a slightly hysterical edge to her voice. “Right now.”

“We will,” Scott promised her, “but first we need to know what happened here.”

Ivy accepted the coffee Erin handed her and took a sip from it. “Thanks. I needed this. Erin, what’s the deal?”

She told them everything she could, from the time she and Jake arrived home to the moment she woke up and found him gone.

“I left him alone in his room,” she told them, “because I knew he didn’t want anyone around just yet. He didn’t say anything, but it was obvious he was distraught over the news from Dr. Moline.” She looked at Scott. “You were there. What do you think?”

“I agree he was upset. Jake doesn’t rant and rave, he just gets deathly quiet, but it was obvious from the look on his face and the fact he didn’t speak to either of us. Okay, so we’re going to assume he’s out trying to blunt the shock with either alcohol or—” He paused and looked at Erin.

“It’s okay,” she told him. “Go ahead and say it. He could be with another woman.” She shrugged. “Maybe even many women, right now the important thing is finding him and getting him home and through all this.”

Ivy nodded. “We can kick his ass later.” She pulled her cell phone from her purse. “I don’t think he’d go out and get drunk. That’s not how he rolls. But we can’t overlook anything. Jake isn’t a big one for bar hopping, like I said, but he has a few he likes to go to when the urge hits him. I dictated what I remember into my phone on the way over here.”

“Would he go there this early? It’s barely five o’clock.”

“No. Maybe.” Ivy threw up her hands. “Of course not, but we have to start somewhere. He hasn’t reached out to anyone else while he’s been going through this, so I have no idea what he’s liable to do.” She looked from one to the other. “Scott, I’m sure you’re aware he hasn’t really formed any close friendships with his teammates. He’s certainly withdrawn from all of them while he’s been going through this.”

“You’re right,” Scott agreed. “He’s very social and sociable, but inside I think he’s pretty much isolated himself. I always thought that was why he never formed a relationship with a woman.”

“Out of the public eye he’s very private,” Ivy agreed. “Even when he goes to parties he circulates, chats, and then leaves. But maybe today he thought alcohol would be the answer.”

“Let’s have the names of the places,” Scott told her. “We can get the numbers and split up the calls.”

There were ten places on Ivy’s list, and they called all of them but with zero results.

“I knew this would be a bust,” Ivy said, “but at least we tried.”

“Now what?” Erin asked. She drummed her fingers on the table, but when she realized what she was doing, she clutched her hands together to stop herself.

“I’m going to call a couple of the guys on the team I know well enough. Most of them are also my clients.”

“I just don’t want to start the rumor mill,” Ivy told him. “Even if Jake can’t play again, we still want to protect his name as much as possible.”

“I don’t care about that,” Erin blurted. “I just want to find him and bring him home safe.”

Scott put one of his large hands over both of hers. “I agree. But let’s do it sensibly.”

It was hard for her, though, to sit quietly while Scott made his calls, his tone of voice casual, the conversation almost offhand. But in the end he still had nothing.

“Maybe he
is
with one of his Eye Candy Mandys,” Erin said bitterly, even as she realized she knew better.

“That’s never been his style,” Scott answered. “I’d think you’d know that by now.”

“People do weird things when they get dealt a life-changing blow like this.”

“Scott’s right,” Ivy protested. “Anyway, I wouldn’t know where to start to find out, if that’s what he’s done.”

“What about one of his former lady friends,” Scott interjected. “If you can give me their names, I can get their numbers.”

Ivy sighed. “You’d be surprised at how few of those there have been, none of them what you’d call really serious.”

Erin nibbled on a fingernail. She wanted so badly to believe Ivy, but she had such a painful history that stood in her way. She’d often wondered, since what she called the Trace disaster, if a man could be satisfied with just her. If he could be faithful, or maybe her flaw was just picking the wrong men. Or man.

“You mean his first reaction wouldn’t be to find some female to hook up with? Or go somewhere to get drunk? I thought that’s what football players did.”

“As much as you’ve been around Jake these past couple of months, are you saying you haven’t gotten a different picture, at least of him?” Ivy frowned at her. “I haven’t said much about this, but I’d really like to know why you have such a low opinion of football players. Especially Jake, who in no way fits the image you’ve got.”

“Me, too,” Scott put in. “We need to get past this so we can concentrate on Jake.”

Erin sighed, picked up her mug, and took a sip of her coffee. At the moment, she wished they hadn’t ditched the bourbon. Then she looked from one to the other.

“You know—or know of—Trace McKay, right?”

Scott frowned. “Not one of mine, that’s for sure. How do you know Trace?”

God, this was so painful. “Seven years ago when I was working at a resort and spa in Houston I met Trace. A friend introduced us. I usually didn’t give the teams the time of day. Mostly their behavior turned me off. They were loud, arrogant, and obnoxious.”

“Welcome to my world,” Scott muttered. “Or at least part of it.”

“I guess my hormones overrode my common sense. How trite is it to say he swept me off my feet?”

“Excuse me,” Scott interrupted, “but I wouldn’t think he’s quite your style.”

Erin snorted. “I should have had you advising me then. But what did I know? I was young, impressionable, and excited that a big star like Trace even wanted to date me.” She raked a hand through her hair. “We were hot and heavy for most of the season. It was hard carving time out, what with his playing schedule and my work schedule. We worked it out, though. I managed a lot of Sundays off so I could see him play and then we’d have until Tuesday together.”

“Building a relationship during the season is difficult,” Scott agreed.

“Anyway, moving right along. We agreed to be exclusive, and he gave me every indication that after the season we’d be taking a big step. I assumed he was going to ask me to marry him, idiot that I was.”

“So what happened?” Ivy wanted to know.

“I wasn’t able to get to Dallas for the game they were playing that weekend, but I figured I’d get there that night and surprise him. It was the middle of the evening before I got to the hotel and checked in. By that time the team was back at the hotel and celebrating their win.”

Ivy frowned. “I think I’m not liking where this is going.”

“I was standing at the front desk finishing my registration, just in time to see Trace walk out of the hotel bar with two very busty, scantily clad blondes, one under each arm. Before I could move or even say anything, the reservations clerk helping me laughed. ‘There he goes again,’ she said. ‘We call him Trace Twofer.’”

Erin curled her fingers into her palms. “Want to know why? Because he was known for always celebrating with two women, not just one. Even breaking team curfew when he could get away with it. So while I was dreaming of wedding bells, he was busy with sexual gymnastics.”

“Oh, Erin.” Ivy reached across the table to touch her arm. “I am so very, very sorry. That must have been so painful.”

“Yeah, well, the breakup is legendary. After I got past the pain, they heard me screaming at him all over the hotel.” She looked from one to the other. “So you can see why I’m allergic to football players.”

“They aren’t all like that,” Scott told her. “Jake is the total opposite, as a matter of fact. A lot of my clients are, and I say that with pride.”

“And maybe I’m learning that. In the meantime, enough with the weepy stories. What do we do next? I worry that if we’re not actively looking, he’s out there doing himself some damage.”

“Well, running around looking in every bar in Austin won’t be very productive,” Scott pointed out. “We need to figure out another option.”

“Ivy, while we’re playing true confessions,” Erin said, “can you tell me why Jake is so obsessed with football being the only thing that identifies him? Validates him? That without it he’s nothing?”

For a long moment, no one said anything. Then Ivy cleared her throat.

“Only if you promise not to let Jake know I told you.” She waited while they both nodded their agreement. “Jake and I grew up with a very abusive father, and I mean completely vicious and sadistic.”

The pictures.

“Jake stood up for my mother and me all the time. He took the brunt of everything. Our father denigrated him all the time, told him he was useless and worthless. Beat him into the ground physically and verbally. Made him feel he was nothing.”

Lines of anger deepened in Scott’s face. “How did you get away from him?”

“One night things got so bad my mother actually took Jake and me and fled from the house. A friend took us to a shelter and they helped us relocate. Got our mom some counseling and relocated us to Granite Falls with a job for her.” She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “When Jake tried out for the football team, that became who he was. He was admired and respected, and Coach Fenelli became a real father to him.”

“Which is why football defines him,” Erin said. “It brought him relationships and respect and an identity in the community. It’s why he thinks without it he’s nothing.”

“What about his father?” Scott asked. “Didn’t he try to find you?”

“The shelter where we were taken took pictures of us,” Ivy answered. “They called the police who took my statement and that of our neighbors. They talked to the people at the shelter, too. Then they arrested our dad.” She looked down at the table. “He couldn’t make bail, and while he was awaiting trial he got into a fight in prison and was killed. I-I don’t think I can talk about this anymore. Jake and I have both buried it pretty deep.”

“That’s why he’s so focused on Jake Russell, running back,” Scott explained. “It’s a self-esteem issue. It blots out everything that was bad in his life and makes him feel valued.”

“And why he finances the Good Shepard House,” Erin guessed.

Ivy nodded. “And a lot of other things no one knows about.”

Erin wanted to cry. “But he is a person of value. Football is only part of it. He’s bright and funny, and smart and sharp and—”

Ivy actually gave a small laugh. “Spoken like a woman in love.”

Erin blinked back tears. “You’re right. I fought it for so long. Now he might not ever want to hear it from me.”

“Why?” Ivy asked. “If I know my brother, I’d say he’s in love with you.”

Scott gave her a little smile. “You heard it here first.”

“But I don’t—we haven’t…”

“We can discuss that later.” Ivy drained her coffee mug. “Right now none of this helps us find Jake.”

Love. Exactly what happened when she wasn’t looking. Maybe if she’d had the courage to tell him, she could have provided the emotional support he needed with this devastating news and he wouldn’t have run off God knows where on his own.

Scott opened his mouth to say something when the landline rang, startling all three of them.

Erin jumped up from the table and grabbed the receiver. “Jake Russell’s house.” Maybe, maybe, maybe this would be someone who had some news of Jake.

“Is this Erin Bass?” a woman asked.

“It is.” Please, please, please let this be some information.

“This is Lynne Corday. With the Good Shepard House? We met when I came to see Jake.”

“Yes, yes, I remember you. If you’re looking, he’s, ah, not here at the moment.”

“I know that. That’s why I’m calling. Jake is here with me, at Good Shepard. He has been for the past couple of hours.”

“He is? He’s safe?” Erin felt as if a ton of bricks had been lifted from her. “Can I speak to him?”

“Actually, he asked me to call you to pick him up.”

“Oh, thank God.” Tears ran down her cheeks as an enormous feeling of relief coursed through her. He was okay. More importantly, he had asked for her. Just her.

“I believe he’s ready to go home, but I’m not sure he should be driving.”

A thread of fear wiggled through her. “Is he drunk?” She asked in a hesitant tone of voice.

“Not at all,” Lynne assured her. “He’s just emotionally wrung out and physically exhausted.”

“Tell him I’m on my way. We’ll worry about his car tomorrow.” She turned to face the others. “He’s okay. He’s at Good Shepard and he wants to come home.”

“He went to the environment where he felt safest,” Scott commented. “Where he felt worthwhile.”

“Lynne Corday is a wonderful woman,” Ivy told them. “If anyone can help Jake get his head on straight, it’s her.” She stood up. “I’m going with you.”

Erin shook her head. “I know you want to but he asked for me. Only me. This is my chance to show him I care. Let me do this.”

“Okay, but I’m going to wait here.” Ivy looked from one to the other. “Just so I can see for myself that he’s okay. Then I’ll take off.”

Scott pushed away from the table. “I’m going back to the hotel. Erin, please let me know that he’s okay, will you?”

“Of course. But right now I really need to get going.”

* * * *

When Erin walked into Lynne Corday’s office, she was so relieved to see Jake sitting in a chair in one piece that she drew a breath for the first time in hours. He appeared slightly the worse for wear, but he managed a smile for her. And then he shocked her by pushing himself to his feet and then wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug.

“I’m sorry,” he told her. “I’m so sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” She rubbed her hands up and down his back, feeling his tension. “I’m just glad you’re in one piece.”