Chapter Three––––––––
The next morning, as he pulled into the stadium parking lot, Devon’s pulse kicked up. He began to sweat. Nail number two in my coffin. I hope they listen. His steps slowed as he neared Lyle Barker’s office.
Edie gave him a warm smile. “Coffee? Bagel?”
His stomach was churning so badly he knew better than to add more coffee. “No, thanks.”
“Go right in,” she said.
Adrenaline pumped through his veins at sixty miles an hour when he saw the lineup—Lyle Barker, team owner, Jo Parker, V.P. of Public Relations, and Coach Bass. Is this a meeting or an execution?
“Come in, Dev,” the coach said.
Wobbly legs carried him over to a chair facing the couch where the others sat.
“Did you see the paper?” Lyle asked.
Devon nodded.
“Well?”
“I didn’t do it.”
“Didn’t beat up th
