Running Home to You (The Running Series) (47 page)

“Of course.”

“So, the more money you make, the more money he makes, right?”

“Yes, Juliette, that’s how it works.  What’s your point?”

“I know we’ve had this discussion before, Evan, but I don’t think all of Adam’s advice is good for you on a personal level.  Yes, he’s helped your career tremendously.  But you’ve made it.  You’re at the pinnacle of your professional career, and I think you need to think about protecting your personal life more vigorously than ever.  Maybe that’s my job now.”

“Are you telling me you want a cut of my salary, too?  My agent gets three percent, Adam gets one, and how much do you want?”

“I don’t think you need to put me on salary.  I think we can come up with a more creative payment package.”  I run my foot up and down his leg, making sure he knows exactly what sort of terms I have in mind.

“If you’re willing to negotiate, I can think of a few incentives we could work into the agreement.”  Evan has the biggest, goofiest grin I’ve ever seen on his face.  I melt inside just looking at him.

“Only if I get to add a few clauses of my own.”

“Deal.  Let’s go home and do some market research first.”

“Not until you call Adam back and tell him you were right about our private lives being just that – private.”

“With pleasure.”

We finish our breakfast and return home.  I have a few hours before I have to be at the restaurant.  Evan goes up to his gym to get in a good workout while I get ready for work.  Just as I’m about ready get changed, I get a call from Emmy.

“Jette, I need a favor.  One of my contacts fell out and I can’t find it.  Can you please stop at my house and pick up my glasses on your way to work?”

“Um, sure Emmy.  Is Adam home to let me in?  Where are your glasses?” I ask.

“No, Adam’s not home.  You have to use the spare key to let yourself in.  My glasses should be right on the dresser in the bedroom.”

“I don’t have a spare key to Adam’s house, Emmy.”

“Of course you do, that’s why I’m calling.  Evan has a copy of Adam’s house key.  Just ask him, he’ll give it to you.”

“Okay, Emmy, I can do that for you.  Give me about an hour or so and I’ll be there.  Will you be alright until I get in?”

“I’ll be fine.  I can make drinks with my eyes closed.  It’s just hard for me to see the register to ring up the sales, that’s all.  It’s a little slow right now, so Clare is ringing for both of us.  No worries.  See you in a little while.  Thank you so much, Jette.  You really are a lifesaver.”

“No problem, Emmy.  I’m glad I can help.”

Once I’m ready, Evan gives me the key and I head straight to Adam’s house.  Just as Emmy said, Adam’s not home.  I turn the key to let myself in and the house is empty.  I’ve only been in his home a few times, and being here alone is odd.  I feel strangely out of place.

I walk down the hall towards the bedroom and I pass by an open room.  Curiosity gets the better of me and I peek my head in for a look.  It has bookshelves, a filing cabinet, and a large desk with a laptop sitting on top – it’s Adam’s home office. 

There is a wall filled with photographs of Adam’s life.  I can’t help but wonder what kind of life Adam lived to this point.  I really don’t know much about him, his family, or his childhood.  Looking at the pictures help me piece together the history of this young man.  He was crowned Prom King at his Senior Prom.  No surprises there.  There’s a charming picture of him in a football uniform pinning a flower on a woman I can only surmise is his mother.  I know that high school seniors do that on the last game of their senior year.

Now that I’m standing alone in Adam’s office, I get a visit from a pair of angels whispering in my ear.  One angel is telling me to turn myself around, find Emmy’s glasses, and drive straight to work.  But there’s a second, louder voice telling me that I will never again have a chance like this.  I have an opportunity to look around for proof of my suspicions. 

If I take a look and find nothing, no one ever has to know.  No harm done.  But if I do look and I find something damning, I’ll be glad I looked.  On the other hand, if I don’t even try, I’ll always wonder.  My mind is made up.  I give myself ten minutes and not a moment longer.

There’s a desk with a few drawers, and as I open each, it’s clear I’m not going to find anything here.  There are all kinds of things hidden, but nothing useful.  There are pens, pencils, a few flashlights, and more batteries than he could possibly need in a year.

That leaves the filing cabinet.  I open the top drawer, and it has hanging files with names I’ve never heard of.  The second drawer contains files with familiar names.  I flick through them and spot files on Troy Duffy, Shaun Marise, Matt Ortiz, Xander Parish, Carlo Rivera, and Anthony Santos.  These are all Sentinels players.  There are others, too, and I’m fairly sure they are more teammates.

In the third drawer, my mouth falls open when I see what’s inside.  The very first file is labeled “Evan T. McGuire”.  The one behind it is labeled “Averee DeVeau”.  There’s even one marked “Laci Keilani”.  I’m afraid to look inside that one.

I steel myself and pull out Evan’s file.  It’s got lots of print outs, receipts, and copies of contracts.  As I sift through the papers, I find old CT scans, contracts with the Texans and Sentinels, and reports from Dr. Geiselman.  Right behind are several bills from a place called Script Source.  Just by scanning the header on the document, I can easily see it’s a mail-in prescription service.  The patient is listed as Evan T. McGuire and the medication is listed as Anadrol.  There are three invoices, one from May, one from June, and another from July.  All three are for the same drug from the same doctor, Dr. Jeffrey Katz.  Who the hell is that?  I grab the three invoices and stick them in my purse.

The glasses are exactly where Emmy said they would be.  I gather them quickly, and then get out as fast as I can.  While sitting in my car in the driveway, I pull out my phone and Google “Anadrol”.  The first return clearly states that, “Anadrol is a synthetic anabolic steroid.”  I scan down a few more returns and read, “Anadrol is one of the most powerful oral steroids on the market.”  Damn.  I wanted so badly to be wrong. 

Smoke and Mirrors

I
arrive at work and give Emmy her glasses.  I can’t look at her.  I can’t talk to her.  I feel too guilty for what I’ve done.  I hide in the kitchen until Derek comes in to relieve her and she leaves for the night. 

Reese knows something is wrong.  She can read it all over my face.  “Jette, you don’t look well.  Do you feel okay?”

“Actually, no, I don’t.  I have a terrible headache.  It feels like my head’s going to explode.”  It’s the truth.  The moment I found the invoices, I could feel a migraine beginning.  I don’t want to tell Evan what I’ve discovered, but I don’t know how to avoid it.

“Honey, you should go home.  We can handle this.  It’s slow tonight.”

I consider staying here and hiding in the kitchen all night until closing.  Maybe when I get home Evan will be asleep in bed, and then I won’t have to talk to him, either.  Yeah, right.  Who am I kidding?  He never goes to bed until I get home.  He waits up for me every time, no matter what.  “I can’t go home,” I notify Reese.  “Please don’t make me go.” 

“Did you have a fight?  Evan’s not acting weird again, is he?”  I shake my head.  “You could tell me, you know.  Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, Evan’s great.  That’s the problem.  When I get home, I have to tell him something that’s going to destroy him.  I don’t know what to do.  I wish I could say more, but I can’t.”

“Well, it’s hard to help without all the facts.  But I know you, Jette.  You’re not going to be able to keep this inside for too long.  Either you’re going to break down and tell him or he’s going to figure out pretty quickly that you’re hiding something from him.”

“You’re right. If he didn’t have a big game on Friday, I’d talk to him now without wasting any time.  I don’t know what to do.”  He needs a clear head for the game.  It’s his debut as starting quarterback and he could easily get bumped back down to back up if things don’t go well.

Reese walks across the room and grabs the August calendar off the wall.  I’ve written the dates of each of Evan’s preseason games on there.  “Look, he’s got a game every week this month.  Every single week.  Do you want to wait until the regular season begins to tell him?”

“No,” I reluctantly admit.

“Go home.  Tell him now.  It’s only Sunday.  He’s got nearly a week to deal with whatever is going on.  The longer you wait, the less time you’re giving him to work it out.  You know I’m right.”

“Damn it, Reese.  Why do you always have to be right?”

Reese assigns one of her sous chefs to take over and I show him how I want my desserts plated.  Most everything is prepared and just needs to be prepped.  There are a few sauces that need to be made on order, and I’m fairly certain he can handle it.

I send Evan a text to tell him I’m on my way home.  I make up some lame excuse about it being slow at the restaurant.  It’s a little before seven, so he asks me to bring home something for dinner.  He’s probably had his nose buried in his playbook all day.  That’s how he’s been spending his free time lately.

When I get home, I’m first greeted by Maddy.  Evan is waiting for me in the living room.  His entire face lights up when he sees me.  I take a moment to appreciate the sparkle in his eye as a broad smile curves his mouth.  Once I show him what I’ve found, I won’t be seeing either one again for a while.

I clear the table and pass out the sandwiches and salads I brought home.  Evan slaps his binder closed and joins me.  While we eat, we chat about our day.  I was right, he did spend the whole day reading his playbook and watching tapes of the last game the Sentinels played against Detroit.  He’s making sure that he’s completely prepared and that he knows his opponent’s strengths and weaknesses, as well as his team’s. 

Finally, as we finish our meals, he turns the conversation back on me.  “And how was your day? Did you find what you were looking for this morning?”

“How did you know?  I didn’t realize ...” Evan cuts me off.

“I gave you the house keys, remember?  What did Emmy forget?  Her wallet?  Her phone?”

Oh, thank goodness.  I thought he knew.  “Glasses.  She forgot her glasses.  And yes, I found them.  They were right where she said they were.”  I reach into my purse to retrieve Adam’s spare key.  “Here, you can have this back now.”

Evan tosses the key onto the counter.  While I clean up from dinner, Evan feeds Maddy.  “You’ve been really quiet tonight, baby.  Is something bothering you?”  His tone is laced with concern. 

Knowing I can’t put it off for much longer, I decide it is time to confess it all.  “Yes, there is something on my mind.  Do you think we could talk?”  The thought of what I am about to tell him hangs over me like a black cloud.  I’m certain he can read the unease all over my face.

His voice hesitant, he replies, “Of course.  Did something happen?”  Evan walks over and wraps his arms around me, nuzzling my neck.  “You know you can tell me anything.”

Inhaling deeply, I nod, breathing slowly in through my nose and out through my mouth.  “I know.  Let’s go sit down.”  I lead him over to the couch.  He follows, reluctantly.

“What’s this all about?” Evan asks, the worry on his face clear as day to me.

“I found something today at Adam’s house,” I confess, “I know it’s wrong, but I did a little snooping.”  I grab my bag and retrieve the papers I found.  “Here.  Read it.”

Evan looks at the papers quizzically.  “I don’t understand.”

“What does it say?” I ask, trying to get Evan to focus on the content of the form in his hand.  “Read it to me.  You’ll see.”

“Well, it’s an invoice from Script Source.  That’s our mail-in medication supplier.  It’s got my name, but Adam’s address.”  Evan hesitates, trying to process the meaning of that detail.  “It must be a mistake,” he theorizes, looking up at me for confirmation.

“Keep going,” I tell him.

“Okay.”  Evan returns his gaze to the paper in his hand.  “It says the drug name is Anadrol.  The drug strength is fifty milligrams.  The physician is Dr. Jeffrey Katz.”  He puts the invoice down and looks up at me, confused.  “Who the fuck is Dr. Katz?” he asks aloud.  I don’t think he fully understands.  Not yet.

“What about the dates?”

“The what?”  He’s in some sort of a fog, a daze of sorts.

“When were they prescribed Evan?  Read me the dates the prescriptions were filled,” I demand.

“The first one is from May first.”  He flips through the papers.  “Then there’s one for June first and July first.  What the hell is this?  Where did you find these?  And what the fuck is Anadrol?”

“The only thing I know for sure is that Anadrol is an oral steroid.  And a pretty powerful one, too.”  I have to let him figure this all out.  As much as I may want to tell him all my theories and hypotheses, it’s important that I not accidentally lead him towards my conclusions.

“You said you found these?”  I nod.  “Where?”  Evan’s mouth is now in a straight line and anger is burning in his expression.