The Big Time

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

BOB M c DONOUGH STOOD TALL and slender, with close-cropped, graying hair and pale blue eyes that meant business. He stood talking to Troy's mom on the front porch. When they noticed Troy, they stopped talking. His mom gave Troy a look of concern and said they'd better go inside. Troy sat opposite Bob McDonough at the kitchen table while his mom flipped the tops off of three sodas, setting them out like pieces on a board.

"Bob," Troy's mom said, "would you please tell Troy what you learned."

Bob McDonough took a swig, and his eyes flickered from Troy's mom to Troy before he set down the bottle, licked his lips, and sucked in some air.

"Troy," he said, "you're an employee of the team, and it's my job to look into these kinds of things, whether someone is working a con game on one of our players or someone's trying to get inside information on the team for gambling. I admit that this is quite different, but you're an asset to the team."

"Only for the rest of this season," Troy said, jutting out his chin. "I'm going to the Jets next year."

"Yes, your mom told me about that," Bob McDonough said, casting a worried glance at Troy's mom, "but what I have to say may change all that."

"Because you want me to stay!" Troy said, pushing back his chair with a screech and jumping up.

"Troy!" his mother said. "Sit down. You don't talk to Mr. McDonough that way. You know better."

"I don't know what I know anymore," Troy said, then lowered his voice. "But I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it, Mr. McDonough; it's just that all this is so crazy."

"It'd be a lot for anyone," Bob McDonough said, "let alone a twelve-year-old boy. But that doesn't mean I can keep the truth from you, Troy."

"What truth?" Troy asked. "Why are you two looking like that?"

"Troy," Bob McDonough said, "your father, Drew Edinger, he's in very serious trouble with the law."

"What?" Troy asked, frightened by the look on Bob McDonough's face. "What trouble?"