“The problem was that all the woman went to their parties willingly. They’d wake up to find they’d had sex. A few agreed to have rape kits taken. Different detectives were handling the different cases. Each case wasn’t pursued for its own reasons. The bottom line was that none of the kits were processed.
“I had help from Bev Mass, a friend and the State’s Attorney for Cook County, who contacted the local DA in Massachusetts. They agreed to expedite the investigation if I would pay to have the rape kits analyzed,” I said.
“And you have no DNA to compare it to.”
“They just finished getting his fraternity brothers to voluntarily give DNA samples to eliminate themselves. I’ve been told that they may need to find a way to get his DNA without him offering to provide it. It was made clear to me that the chain of custody is important. And the best way to do that was to have people who know what they’re doing collect it,” I said.
Detective Kitchens saw our problem but wanted to make sure he had all the facts. He had me go through my story again but drilled down. I was glad that Ms. Dixon was on the phone because I refused to explain how I’d gotten police records.
Bev Mass was called, and soon we had the Middlesex DA on the phone. At that point, Dad and I were kicked out of the room so the others could talk about the status of the case. When they were done, we were invited back in.
“I’ve offered to help them,” was all Detective Kitchens said.
“Thank you.”
I knew better than to ask what he planned to do. Now I would have to wait and see what happened.
◊◊◊ Tuesday March 1
During school, I received a text from Ms. Dixon to call her. I made a quick call between classes.
“Did Detective Kitchens find anything?” I asked when she came onto the line.
“Not yet. I just got a call from Duane Morris, though. He got a heads-up that you’ll receive a letter from the NCAA today and wanted you not to freak out. They’ve determined that you are ‘Under Investigation’ for your amateur status.”
It had been explained to me that there were three possible outcomes from my application. The best would be that I would be ‘Certified,’ which meant I was good to go. Mr. Morris hadn’t felt that one was likely. Next best was ‘Preliminarily Certified with Conditions.’ The worst of the three was ‘Under Investigation.’ Mr. Morris had explained the meaning of ‘Under Investigation.’ It only meant that the first investigator found enough potential problems to pass it on to a committee. That committee would dig deeper into those issues to determine my eligibility. Still, hearing the verdict made my stomach queasy.
“Should I be worried?” I asked.
“Mr. Morris had said this was a distinct possibility, but he is confident he can work through any issues. When you get the official letter, scan it, and send it over. He wants to see what they actually say before he decides whether we should get nervous.”
“Fu … udge,” I said in place of what I wanted to say.
“I have other news,” she said.
“Please tell me this is good. I don’t think I can handle any more bad news right now,” I admitted.
“This is good. I hired Tom Dole, and he’s managed to get his old firm’s Entertainment Division clients to come with him. I heard you were worried about that,” she said.
“How did you hear that?”
“His daughter told him. Speaking of which, she’ll be moving in with you.”
“What the hell?!”
I heard peals of laughter. I’d no idea that Ms. Dixon had a sense of humor. She got me good.
“We set him up in an apartment in the Gold Coast area, just north of the Loop. He plans to spend weekends at home for now.”
“What about Angel Hargrove? Is she part of the deal?” I asked.
She was the manager of both Eve Holliday and Birthrite.
“Yes, she agreed to come with him. We also picked up the contracts with Ford and AT Modeling. I think Tom wants to talk to you about managing your photo portfolio and their secondary sales. He used big words like synergy with the other models and the ability to package deals.”
“Thanks for dumbing it down for me,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Have him talk to Caryn. From what I hear, he might want to let Kendal do all that for him.
“She’s good. I’ve not seen any drop-off in net income since we hired her. I’m not sure Tom would add anything to my bottom line for that,” I said.
“Would you be upset if I tried to hire her?” Ms. Dixon asked.
“I want what’s best for her, but I don’t want to get hurt in the process,” I said and then sighed. “You need to talk to Caryn. She runs the day-to-day and answers to my dad. They would have to make that kind of decision.”
“I promise to get their blessing before I talk to her.”
“Fair enough.”
◊◊◊
Today in baseball practice, Coach Haskins included a base runner and the infield. He’d call out different scenarios, and then they would hit the ball into center field where I had to make the right play. Did I just return the ball to second base, try to throw out a lagging base runner, hit a cutoff man … and it went on from there.
Baseball can be like a game of chess. There’s a lot more strategy than it at first seems. Coach Haskins was teaching me to think ahead and make the play. It wasn’t as complicated as reading a defense in football, but I found it challenging to learn the subtleties of a new position.
After practice, I stopped Moose and Coach Haskins to talk to them.
“Why are you spending so much time with me? I don’t want to short the other guys their chance to get ready for the season,” I worried.
“The whole infield got work today, and we practiced base-running,” Moose pointed out.
I could see his point, but I’d never seen Moose focus regular practices on just one player. Like football, baseball was a team sport.
“I understand, but you know what I mean.”
Moose looked at Coach Haskins, who just scratched his head. It looked like Moose would have to answer me.
“I’ve received several calls about you. Lucas Kite, from the Cubs, has been checking up on you. I had a long talk with him and your hitting coach. They feel you have the tools to make it to the big leagues, and both agreed you need a crash course on playing center field. They want you ready for when you go to the Under-18 tryouts.
“Coach Haskins and I agree that you can help this team …”
“But …”
“No buts, David. I’ve never had a player with your potential. When you go to the tryouts, you’re also representing Lincoln High. You may not know this, but Coach Hope was on cloud nine when you excelled at all those football camps last summer. He knew that your achievements would rub off on everyone back home. Several of your teammates will get scholarships because of you. Coach Diamond was given a head-coaching job because he coached you.
“I’ve never had a player drafted in baseball. I know that if you turn into the player we think you can become, you could be the first. If it looks like that’s going to happen, that means scouts and college recruiters will come to our games to watch you. And if that happens, it gives everyone else a chance.
“I also know you worry about everyone not getting equal coaching. You need to trust us. I’ve been doing this for twenty-seven years, and Coach Haskins longer than that. Let us deal with how we divvy up our time. You also needn’t worry about your teammates feeling slighted. They know the score and are on board,” Moose explained.
“You’re the boss.”
“You finally got that right,” Moose said with an amused grin. “Now go hit the showers!”
◊◊◊
I skipped the dojo again so I could work on the play. Our Town was about the everyday lives of people in Grover’s Corner circa 1901 to 1913. Mr. Dutton described it as a metatheatre three-act play. I wasn’t sure what metatheatre meant, so I asked Halle. She told me it was called metatheatre because the main character, the stage manager, directly addressed the audience; brought in guest lecturers; fielded questions from the audience; and filled in and played some of the roles.