Six of those points are mine, he exulted.
The Liberty offense had driven slowly down the field to the Dragons’ 34 yard line. It was third and eight. Emrick had lined up in the backfield at the halfback position, then run a pass route that swept across the middle before he suddenly broke downfield. The ball had reached his hands when he was at the 28 yard line, and he had just kept running. One quick juke and a wicked forearm later, he was in the end zone.
It might only be the first quarter, but Emrick had the feeling that today was his day.
4:05 p.m. PST
Riley, Khadi, Scott, and Hicks sat silently around the table deep in the heart of the Rose Bowl stadium; Skeeter guarded the door. Frustration was leading to desperation. Every muffled cheer from the crowd above sent a knife into Riley’s heart. He wondered how many people out there-and in here, for that matter-were going to die because of his failure. It didn’t make sense. Did I really hear Sal say what I thought I heard him say? Or was I so anxious to beat him at his own game that I read into his words?
Riley shook the doubts from his head. He had gone over his conversation with Hakeem word for word with Hicks, Scott, and Khadi, and they all agreed with him. Sal had made it very clear that his next target was the PFL Cup. But why? Why would he have been so forthright with his intentions? Did he actually intend to have me killed after al-’Aqran was released? And wouldn’t he have known that I would try to signal something to my team? He’s a smart guy. Could he have made that big of a blunder? Was it a blunder?
The silence in the room was so intense that when Riley’s cell phone rang, it caused Khadi to start, Scott to tip over in his already precariously positioned chair, and Skeeter to draw his weapon. Riley looked at the caller ID-Meg Ricci. He silenced the phone. “Sorry, guys.”
A few moments later, the phone began ringing again. Again the caller ID showed Meg Ricci. Again Riley silenced the ring.
A minute passed, and then the phone began to ring once more.
“Just answer it!” Scott and Khadi said simultaneously.
Riley picked up the phone and flipped it open. “Meg, now is not-”
“Riley, I have to talk to you.” Meg sounded frantic.
“Can it wait for a few-?”
“Riley, please!” There was fear in her voice, and she sounded like she was about to hyperventilate.
Riley got up from the table and walked to a corner of the small room. “Sure, Meg, of course. Take a breath, and then tell me what’s going on.”
Riley heard Meg take a couple of deep breaths, obviously trying to regain her composure. When she began to speak again, the frantic tone had come down a few notches, but the fear was still strong. “I… I was cleaning out some of Sal’s stuff. I know it’s probably too soon, but I just couldn’t handle looking at it day in and day out. Does that make me a bad person?”
“No, of course not. Everyone handles grief differently. But what’s got you all worked up?”
“Well, I was in our closet pulling out the shoes he never wore. He’d buy shoes, wear them once, and then just throw them back in the corner. Anyway, I pulled out a pair from the corner and noticed a bump in the carpet. I tried to smooth it out, because we’ve had trouble with this carpet ever since we put it in last year, remember?”
“Right, right. So what was it?” Riley asked, trying to move her along. He remembered Sal telling him once that Meg tended to ramble when she was upset.
“So, I try to smooth it out, but it won’t smooth. I feel the bump and realize there’s something under the carpet. It was a key, Riley. A key to a safe-deposit box. And along with the key were three small pieces of paper with what looks like Arabic writing on them.”
Riley felt the hair rise on the back of his neck. He rushed to the table. “Meg, I’m here with some friends. I think they need to hear what you might have to say. Do you mind if I put you on speakerphone?”
Meg hesitated for a moment. “Do you have to? I mean, this is personal stuff and…”
“Please, Meg. This could be very, very important.”
“Okay, okay. But first I need to know. Was Sal caught up in anything bad… you know, before he was… before he passed away?”
“I’ll tell you what. When I get back to Denver, I’ll come over and tell you everything I know. Right now, I need to hear what you’ve discovered. So, speakerphone?”
“Okay.”
Riley pressed the button that changed the mode of the cell phone. “Meg, I’m here with Jim Hicks, Scott Ross, and Khadi Faroughi.”
Scott said, “Hey, Meg.”
Khadi said, “Hi, Meg. I’m so sorry about your loss.”
Hicks said nothing.
“So, Meg, you were telling me about a key to a safe-deposit box that you found and some Arabic notes.”
The others turned to Riley, shock on their faces. He nodded to them and gestured with his hand for them to keep it cool.
“Hi, everyone. So… well, I took this key to our bank yesterday. I’ve been up all night with this, Riley. I was trying to decide whether I should call you or not.”
“You did the right thing. So you went to the bank…”
“Right, I went to the bank-I figured Sal wouldn’t have minded and all-and they took me back to the safe-deposit boxes. The key fit one of them, and they pulled it out and put me in a private room. I’m so glad they did, because… I mean, I couldn’t believe what I found.”
“What was it?” Riley asked.
“Money. More than $250,000 in cash. There was also some Mexican money-you know, pesos and stuff-and euros. There was also a… a…”
“Go on,” Khadi encouraged.
“There was a gun-a loaded gun. Why would he have a loaded gun and thousands of dollars in a safe-deposit box, Riley?” The pace of her words was steadily increasing.
“Keep calm, Meg. Was there anything else?” Riley asked.
“A couple of papers. They look like sketches or something. One of them was of Platte River Stadium.”
“Do you have the papers with you?” Scott called out. “Did they have any writing on them?”
“Riley, what’s going on?” Meg asked, her fear growing even greater.
“Please, Meg, I promise I’ll explain everything later. Do you have the papers with you?”
“They’re right here.”
“Are there any markings on the Platte River Stadium drawing?” Scott asked.
“Yeah, there are some Xs… Let me see… one, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Seven Xs. Wait a second! There were seven bombers-that’s what they said on the news about Platte River Stadium the night Sal was killed. I know because he was killed by the seventh bomber!” Franticness had returned and replaced the fear in Meg’s voice. “Riley, was Sal somehow involved in the bombings?”
“Calm down, Meg,” Riley said.
“Calm down? Don’t you tell me to calm down! How can I calm down? Was Sal some sort of suicide bomber who killed himself at Platte River Stadium? Is that what you’re saying?” Meg was shouting now.
“Meg! Stop!” Riley yelled. Meg stopped talking, but her shallow, rapid breathing could be heard clearly through the phone’s speaker. “First of all, promise me that when you hang up this phone you will gently pick up Alessandra and the two of you will go next door to Jill’s house. Do you promise me?”
Hicks was motioning for Riley to get on with it.
Riley waved him off. “Meg, promise me!”
“Okay, Riley,” Meg said softly. She was crying now, and her words came between sobs.
“Now, I’m sorry, but I need to know if there were any other papers in there.”
“Yes, I’m looking at one now. It’s got a circle in the middle, then lines going off the circle. They look like… I don’t know… like spokes or something.”
“Doesn’t sound like the Rose Bowl,” Scott said to Riley.