Officer Jones

Chapter 78

Friday night was idyllic for football. Heavy rains were predicted, but held off. Temperatures were October brisk, just a shade below fifty for the game between the undefeated Rockfield Mountain Lions and Newtown High.

The onslaught began immediately, with Rockfield returning the opening kickoff for a touchdown. Midway through the second quarter, Ethan’s troops had a twenty-one to nothing lead and were closing in on more.

I took in the sights and sounds. I noticed my father working the crowd like it were Election Day, in his first public appearance since Noah’s funeral. My mother was more subdued, huddled under a blanket in the bleachers, chatting with old friends. The band struck up a catchy fight song, drowning out the obnoxious shouts coming from the parents in the crowd. When my eyes got to the cheerleaders, I thought of Gwen, and how stunning she used to look in her cheerleader uniform back in the day.

The thought sobered me. I knew I had one shot to get her back. This had to work. The stakes were Gwen’s life, which meant it might as well have been my own life. The plan was based on Benson’s weakness-his heroic view of himself. You take my girl, I take your glory.

But I wasn’t naive enough to think that Benson didn’t have the upper hand. It no longer mattered if we were onto him-he held the ultimate equalizer in Gwen. He knew it, and I knew it. All I wanted to do was to level the playing field.

Halftime came with Rockfield being cheered off the field, owning a commanding four-touchdown lead. I made my way to the snack bar and shamelessly used my celebrity status to cut in line. It wasn’t that I was so desperately hungry, or on an ego trip-I was just strapped for time. The first step in the plan should be arriving in just moments.

On the way back to my position, I saw him. Working security detail for the game in his light gray police uniform was Grady Benson, or as he was known in these parts, Officer Jones. I held my stare on him, and could tell it made him feel momentarily uncomfortable. I was skilled at causing discomfort in others, which normally worked as an effective weapon in keeping people from sitting next to me on the subway. Benson turned and went on his way, diligently carrying out his police duties. I smiled at winning a small battle.

I returned to the meeting spot and waited. She showed up wearing a long black leather coat. It came down just above her high-heeled shoes, giving her a flasher look. Her big blonde hair shone so brightly it could have been used to light the field.

I cringed when I heard her voice, “Hello, John Peter.”