“Everything I did, I was perfect,” she said, slowly. “Everything. School. Basketball. Everything. And I got sick of it. Because God knows if I wasn't perfect, I would've heard about it.”
I didn't say anything.
“So I decided to take the pressure off. Myself. Screw up badly enough and then I would't have to worry about being perfect. No one would expect a thing from me. For sure, not perfection.”
“And you thought this was the best way to do that?”
A sneer crossed her face. “Or maybe the apple just doesn't fall far from the tree…”
I thought that was closer to a more honest assessment, that all of this was somehow tied to her relationship with her own mother. It didn't make perfect sense, but you could draw a line from her actions to what she'd learned about Olivia.
“You weren't worried about putting yourself in danger?” I asked.
“No.” Meredith threw up her hands. “I don’t know anymore, okay. It all made sense then. It doesn’t now. I get it. And I didn’t think it would end up like this.” She closed her eyes and her body shook as she sobbed quietly.
I doubted there was anything she could say to me that would make me understand and forcing her to explain herself wasn’t my responsibility. That was something she would have to work out with her parents.
“I’ll ask one more time,” I said after a minute. “Will you tell me who beat you up? Tell me who you were freelancing for?”
“It’s okay, Meredith,” Megan said. “I think you can trust him.”
Meredith thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No. I can’t. I’m sorry. I’m afraid.”
I took a deep breath. “Okay. Then we’ve got two choices. I can take you to the police or I can take you to your dad. You don’t have to tell me, but you’ll have to tell one of them eventually. I will take you to either place you want to go and I will get you there safely. But you aren’t staying here. I’m sorry. I promised your father I would find you. I have. So those are your two options. The police or your father.”
She looked at her friend.
“He’s right, Meredith,” Megan said. “You can’t stay here. It’s not safe. You have to trust him. It’s why I brought him here. I know you told me not to bring anyone, but I believe him. He’ll keep you safe.”
Meredith was staring at her lap now. “Okay. I wanna go home.”
I stood before she could put up any more of a fight. “Let’s go then.”
When she stood from the sofa, she seemed smaller, younger than when I’d seen her on the basketball court. There was no confidence, no command, like it had been ripped out of her. I didn’t know what all she was hiding, but that didn’t prevent me from feeling sorry for her.
She walked over to the kitchen and grabbed her backpack from the counter. Megan went to her and put her arm around her.
“It’s alright,” Megan said, squeezing her around the shoulders. “It’ll be alright.”
“Anything else you need?” I asked.
Meredith shook her head and we headed for the front door, the two of them in front of me, Megan still with her arm around her friend.
Megan looked back at me. “We’ll go straight to her house, right?”
“Yes. I promise.”
Megan nodded and smiled at her friend. “Good.”
I reached around them and opened the door.
And ran right into some familiar faces.
SEVENTY-SEVEN
Kelly Rundles and Robert Stricker were blocking our path.
Kelly reached her hand out. “Meredith? Are you alright?”
Meredith shrank from her coach’s reach and backed into me. I guided her around to my side and she pressed into me, a shy toddler clinging to a parent.
I put an arm around her shoulders. “She’s fine.”
Megan took several steps back and was now on my other side. She wasn’t radiating the same fear that Meredith was, but her demeanor had changed and it wasn’t for the better.
Kelly’s eyes were fixed on Meredith. “Where have you been? Do your parents know you’re here?” She glanced at me. “Do they know?”
I was taken aback by Kelly’s concern because it was genuine. She seemed shocked to see Meredith and there was no anger, no animosity, no aggressiveness on Kelly’s part. After our half-time confrontation, I had pegged her as somehow being involved in the downward spiral that had become Meredith’s life. Now, looking at her face, I was fairly certain I was wrong.
“I’m taking Meredith home,” I said, my arm tightening around her shoulders. “We’re going to her home right now. Her parents know we’re on the way.”
To the girls’ credit, they didn’t blanch at my bluff.
Kelly hesitated, then stepped out of the way.
Robert Stricker did not move.
We locked eyes.
The situation crystallized for me.
And he produced a gun.
SEVENTY-EIGHT
Stricker herded us back into the house.
Kelly Rundles’ face was the epitome of confusion. “What the hell is going on?”
He had the gun firmly aimed in my direction. By the way Meredith was clinging to me and the way Megan had taken up residence behind me, I had a pretty good idea.
“You follow us here?” I asked.
Stricker nodded.
Kelly looked from him to me. “He said you wanted us to follow you.” She looked back to him. “You said he wanted us to follow him, but that he didn’t want Megan to know.” She blinked and it seemed to dawn on her how strange that sounded. “What the hell are you doing with a gun?”
“You saw Megan and me in the hall,” I said. “Before the game.”
Stricker held the gun steady and nodded again.
“And when I wasn’t on the bench in the second half, you knew something was up,” I said.
The corner of his mouth flared up into something that on anyone else would’ve resembled the beginning of a smile. It was nothing more than an admission on him.
“What the fuck is going on?” Kelly asked, completely exasperated.
I nodded at Stricker. “Meet Meredith’s pimp.”
Kelly stared at me for a long moment then rotated her head toward Stricker. “What?”
“Vegas,” I said, as I processed the connection that I’d missed from the beginning. “You went to UNLV.”
The corner of his mouth flared again.
“You knew Olivia,” I said. “Before Jordan did, right?”
He didn’t say anything.
“You were the one who told Meredith about her mother,” I said.
Meredith’s hands clenched tighter to my midsection. I took that as confirmation that I was right.
“And I’m guessing you knew what Derek was running,” I continued. “Maybe you heard whispers in the hall, maybe Derek shot off his mouth, I don’t know. But you already knew she was in the game.”
Kelly was staring solely at Stricker now.
“She was pissed off at Derek and you pounced,” I said. “Offered her more money, made it sound better. Then when she wanted out you beat the crap out of her. And you told her to blame it on Chuck.”
There was no flare now on his mouth. Just a blank expression.
“There are details I can’t fill in but I don’t need ‘em,” I said. I shook my head. “I don’t need ‘em. Because I’m right, aren’t I?”
Stricker didn’t say anything.
But Meredith whispered “Yes.”
“He’s an asshole,” Megan said from behind me.
“Been called worse,” Stricker said, his voice low and unfamiliar as he spoke for the first time. “Been called a lot worse.”
“I’ll bet,” I said. I glanced at Kelly and recited the cell number Jon Jordan and I discovered in the phone records. “That number mean anything to you?”
She looked confused for a moment. “I think it's my old school phone.”
“School phone?”
“The school gave me a phone and I think that was the number. I lost it a couple months ago.”
I looked at Stricker. “You didn't lose it, Kelly.”
Stricker's mouth twitched again.
“I don't know what the hell you're talking about and none of this is making sense,” Kelly said. She moved her attention to Stricker. “Robert. Put the gun down.”