Cassandra joined us at the table. 'Safety Dance' by Men Without Hats was blaring from the speakers. I couldn't quite see the stage. Perhaps that was best.
"Ive been doing your homework for you, again," she said. Made the calls that needed to be made and collated what needed to be collated."
I was trying to think if there had been any legwork that I had outsourced to her. I couldn't think of any, but I reminded myself that her legs were more than capable. I was starting to sound like Preach, I thought. "What did I forget?"
"This week's picks," she said. "I made the calls to your assortment of hoods, con-men and hucksters and got their predictions for you."
"Hey. Those are my friends," I said. "You're right about them, but still..."
"Who does LeRoix say will win in his red-neck of the woods," Lloyd asked.
"He picks Auburn Tigres two-point-oh over 12. Clemson Tigers two-point-one; 8. South Carolina Gamey Cocks over Vandy; 6. Florida State over Murray State, duh; 5. Ugas of Georgia over Buffalo not the Bills; and 3. Les Tigres of LSU over North Texas, double-duh."
"LeRoix is always so busy this time of year. What about Bubba?"
"Your mobbed up buddy down in OKC only has two picks this week. He's taking 11. West Virginia over Marshall, and of course, his beloved 4. Oklahoma-Oklahoma-Oklahoma over The West Texas town of El Paso."
"Good, good," I said. "You were able to get a hold of Marcus, out on the Left Coast?"
"Yes, sirree, I did. He says 9. Oregon Quackers over Arkansas State, and 2. University of Spoiled Children over Hawaii, the prettiest place in the country to play bad football."
"Cool. That just leaves Granny's picks from the Leaders division and we have Lloyd right here for the Legends of the B1G."
"Yep, almost done," Cassandra sighed. "Granny is going with 11. Wisconsin's Stinking Badgers over Northern Iowa; The Ohio State Buckys to beat Miami of Ohio; Purdue Boilmakers will top Eastern Kentucky; Illness will prevail over Western Michigan; The Hosers of Indiana will beat Indiana State in the Hoo-gives-a-crap bowl; and Pederasty State will hold on to beat Ohio."
"Pederasty State? Nice," I nodded. I Looked over at Lloyd. "What have you got, in the good division?"
"The Golden Rodents of Minnesota will get off to a good start, beating UNLV. The Purple Pussies of Northwestern will squeak by Syracuse. The Iowa Hackneys will Beat Northern Illinois. The Michigan State Thpartans will fall in an early season upset to Boise State. And the Other half of Michigan will be sad when 7. Wolverhampton gets Rolled over by the Crimson Elephants of 1. Alabama."
"That just leaves me with my Husker prediction for tomorrow," I said. "It seems like business here is concluded."
Preach, Cassandra and Lloyd all left me alone at the table. I was trying to finish my bourbon and figure out my next move. I supposed I should meet the guys from the band, figure out what they knew and how they were set up for funds. The down side of missing persons cases was that it meant a lot of legwork. The other big question that came up with these kinds of cases, 'what if she didn't want to be found?'
Husk-husk and on the qb.
Friday, August 31, 2012
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Blackshirts to the Front
Preacherman came strolling in to "Our Lady" wearing an old black suit, white shirt, skinny black tie, shades and and a fedora, looking like Howlin' Wolf come back to life, looking for booze, women and good times he might have missed out on when he was alive.
As if.
Somehow he made his way to the table and sat down heavily without ever removing his focus from Candide, who was performing a routine to Living Color's 'Cult of Personality' in which she removed layer after layer of newspapers.
"Preacherman," I shouted as I stood and shook his hand. "What can I get for you? From the bar, anyway."
"Aw, man. You always one step ahead of me," he chuckled in his throaty baritone. "Johnny Walker, black, would be just the thing to get me going on the topic at hand."
"That sounds good," I said. I placed the order with the waitress who sauntered away. If Preacherman's eyes hadn't been stuck in his head, they would have locked on to the waitresses six o'clock like a flying ace. "Break the 'Shirts down for me, Preach. Who are we going to see out there on Saturday?"
Preach composed himself after a congratulatory 'Mm-mm-mmmh'. I wasn't sure who or what he was congratulating. "Let's start with the d-line. That was a banged up group in the spring, but Meredith, Ankrah, Steinkuhler and Rome seem to be the guys that will start. Expect to see Jason Ankrah and Eric Martin out there a lot, too. People don't realize how banged up this unit was last year, especially after Crick got hurt. I'm not saying that Rome is better than Crick, but what I am saying is that this year's unit is better from end to end than last year's. More experience and bettwr motivated with some young guys waiting in the wings to step up if given the chance."
"All right, Preach," I said. "How in the world are we ever going to replace Lavonte David? That guy single-handedly saved at least three games, last year."
The waitress came back with Preacherman's drink. He struggled to disengage his eyes from the depths of her shirt, barely managing to get a quick glance at her face as he thanked her, before locking on again as she left.
"Engage, Maverick, engage," Lloyd said, barely looking up from a collection of parts and wires that I think was the circulatory system of his iPad.
"Just chill, baby," Preach intoned as he sipped at his JW. "We got Compton back in the middle playing defensive quarterback. Fisher is finally starting to own it and in my humble opinion, Zaire Anderson will be this year's Lavonte. I mean, c'mon. You got to love a brother with an African country for a first name. Just as long as it isn't, you know, South Africa or Niger or Libya."
Lloyd looked up a little too quickly and gave Preach a look that was half accusatory, half interrogation.
"Tell me about the D-backs, Preach," I said.
"No 'Zo Dennard this year, but this year we've got seven quality guys battling for five spots if you include the nickle. We've got Seisay and Green on the corners, with Evans and hard-hitting Stafford at the safeties. Cooper, Smith, and Jean-Baptiste are all quality defenders. This unit grew up last year and will be even better this year."
"What do you think, overall? Is this year's squad an improvement over last year's," I asked.
"Let me put it to you this way. This year the Blackshirts are better in more positions than they're worse at. They lose Crick, David and Dennard, true enough, but they have improved in the other eight. If you want me to divine the future and pick who I think will getting the most highlight time on Sportscenter, I think it will be Meredith on the line, Anderson at linebacker and Stafford in the secondary."
I nodded as I absorb the info Preacherman had dropped on me.
"One more thing," he added. "Papuchis, the new d-coordinator is actually an improvement. Papuchis has been learning the Bo system of defense for years, now and is wholly committed to making this defense work. He isn't distracted by fresh, ineligible talent."
Lloyd looked up again. "Have you noticed how relaxed Bo is this year?" he asked. "Look at the post practice interviews and press conferences. He doesn't look like he wants to perform an endoscope with the TV camera on the nearest reporter."
"What do you that means?" I asked Lloyd.
"Dunno. Watch out? I feel good about this team and I'm about to let it off the leash. That's my theory, anyway."
Good theory, Lloyd.
Husk-husk and on the qb.
As if.
Somehow he made his way to the table and sat down heavily without ever removing his focus from Candide, who was performing a routine to Living Color's 'Cult of Personality' in which she removed layer after layer of newspapers.
"Preacherman," I shouted as I stood and shook his hand. "What can I get for you? From the bar, anyway."
"Aw, man. You always one step ahead of me," he chuckled in his throaty baritone. "Johnny Walker, black, would be just the thing to get me going on the topic at hand."
"That sounds good," I said. I placed the order with the waitress who sauntered away. If Preacherman's eyes hadn't been stuck in his head, they would have locked on to the waitresses six o'clock like a flying ace. "Break the 'Shirts down for me, Preach. Who are we going to see out there on Saturday?"
Preach composed himself after a congratulatory 'Mm-mm-mmmh'. I wasn't sure who or what he was congratulating. "Let's start with the d-line. That was a banged up group in the spring, but Meredith, Ankrah, Steinkuhler and Rome seem to be the guys that will start. Expect to see Jason Ankrah and Eric Martin out there a lot, too. People don't realize how banged up this unit was last year, especially after Crick got hurt. I'm not saying that Rome is better than Crick, but what I am saying is that this year's unit is better from end to end than last year's. More experience and bettwr motivated with some young guys waiting in the wings to step up if given the chance."
"All right, Preach," I said. "How in the world are we ever going to replace Lavonte David? That guy single-handedly saved at least three games, last year."
The waitress came back with Preacherman's drink. He struggled to disengage his eyes from the depths of her shirt, barely managing to get a quick glance at her face as he thanked her, before locking on again as she left.
"Engage, Maverick, engage," Lloyd said, barely looking up from a collection of parts and wires that I think was the circulatory system of his iPad.
"Just chill, baby," Preach intoned as he sipped at his JW. "We got Compton back in the middle playing defensive quarterback. Fisher is finally starting to own it and in my humble opinion, Zaire Anderson will be this year's Lavonte. I mean, c'mon. You got to love a brother with an African country for a first name. Just as long as it isn't, you know, South Africa or Niger or Libya."
Lloyd looked up a little too quickly and gave Preach a look that was half accusatory, half interrogation.
"Tell me about the D-backs, Preach," I said.
"No 'Zo Dennard this year, but this year we've got seven quality guys battling for five spots if you include the nickle. We've got Seisay and Green on the corners, with Evans and hard-hitting Stafford at the safeties. Cooper, Smith, and Jean-Baptiste are all quality defenders. This unit grew up last year and will be even better this year."
"What do you think, overall? Is this year's squad an improvement over last year's," I asked.
"Let me put it to you this way. This year the Blackshirts are better in more positions than they're worse at. They lose Crick, David and Dennard, true enough, but they have improved in the other eight. If you want me to divine the future and pick who I think will getting the most highlight time on Sportscenter, I think it will be Meredith on the line, Anderson at linebacker and Stafford in the secondary."
I nodded as I absorb the info Preacherman had dropped on me.
"One more thing," he added. "Papuchis, the new d-coordinator is actually an improvement. Papuchis has been learning the Bo system of defense for years, now and is wholly committed to making this defense work. He isn't distracted by fresh, ineligible talent."
Lloyd looked up again. "Have you noticed how relaxed Bo is this year?" he asked. "Look at the post practice interviews and press conferences. He doesn't look like he wants to perform an endoscope with the TV camera on the nearest reporter."
"What do you that means?" I asked Lloyd.
"Dunno. Watch out? I feel good about this team and I'm about to let it off the leash. That's my theory, anyway."
Good theory, Lloyd.
Husk-husk and on the qb.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Lloyd on the Offense, 2012
When Lloyd finally showed up, Mr. Beam and I had gone a few rounds together and the theme at 'Our Lady' had shifted to '80's retro. One of the performers was down to leg warmers and a pair of 'Hello Kitty' underwear.
"How appropriate," I thought.
Lloyd hurried into the bar and plunked his man-purse--I mean satchel, Indiana Jones carries one, you know, onto the table and sat down.
"Lloyd, my man, what's this 'project' I keep hearing about?" I asked.
"For one thing, it's not ready for the big unveiling. For another, there are a couple of components that aren't behaving in their designed manner. For a third thing, I have a thirst as powerful as my power supply, and that needs to be taken care of first."
I waved at the Space Oddity, who took and delivered Lloyd's Carling lager as fast as a Mercury mission.
"If you aren't ready to unveil the 'Project', what else do you have for me?"
Lloyd opened up his satchel and pulled out an iPad with a bright, red, Huskers cover. "I wanted to go over the offense with you, today," he said, matter-of-factly. ""Preacherman said he'd be over later to talk about the Blackshirts, as long as you were still here."
"Right," I said. ""Might as well get our mutual obsession satisfied instead of actually doing the stuff we get paid for."
Lloyd gave me a brief look, weighing whether or not I was serious, before deciding to proceed.
Lloyd made a few taps at the Pad, some with a little flourish that I couldn't decide was a security method or if he had succumbed to the prevailing iPad user showiness that made them look like concert pianists playing a toy piano. "The biggest question mark I have is on offensive line."
"How so?" I asked, leaning back in my seat.
"Barney has to replace three starters from last year, including the center. They are all big enough, but strength has been a question for years, now. The knock on Barney is that he gets big guys that get pushed around. I have a feeling that this has to be his best unit, show signs of improvement or even his +3 Osborne shield may not be enough to save him."
"Why does his Osborne shield get a +3?"
"If Barney goes, so do three other Cottons."
"Make it +2, Ben's gone after this season, anyway."
"Fine, +2. I think we'll be fine at tackle, even with Moore leaving. Qvale has come into his own, Sirles is getting better and better. Choi and Long could be really good guards, with Rodriguez in the mix. Throw in one of the Cotton boys to add depth and we have six guys that can rotate the four positions. Center is the big question. Justin Jackson, Cole Pensick and Mark Pelini are duking it out. We may not know who gets it until Saturday."
"Very nice, what else have you got?"
"We are pretty much loaded at the skill positions. At receivers, Enunwa, Bell, Turner and Marlowe all offer speed, Enunwa is a dump truck when it comes to blocking and the others have upped their game on blocking, too. There is a lot of call to bring Westercamp in, but I think he should redshirt. Throw Ben Cotten and Reed in at Tight End and Martinez will have lots of quality targets to throw to,"
"Speaking of Martinez, is he getting ahead of the curve, or is he regressing?"
"I'll get to him in a minute. I want to hit the running backs. Burkhead (I-backasaurus Rex), is the official Heisman candidate for Nebraska. Hopefully he wont have to carry the ball 30+ times a game. Abdullah, Heard and even Imani Cross could get into it to spell Burkhead with Marrow leading the way at fullback."
"Finally, the big question, is Martinez finally ready for the Big Time?"
"Dunno," Lloyd sighed. We haven't really seen him for eight months. We keep hearing that he has improved his mechanics. We hear that his leadership and demeanor are better. We hear that he is healthy. Let me put it to you this way, for the first time in his career, high school included, he hasn't had to learn a completely new playbook. With the skill position players at his disposal, there is no reason for him not to have a very successful season. Huskerfan will be happy as long as he doesn't turn the ball over and as long as the Huskers win. Any stumbles will have the wolves howling for his backup, whether it is Kellogg, Carnes or Armstrong."
With that, Lloyd shut down his iPad, relaxed and nodded to the Preacherman, who had just walked in.
Husk-husk and on the qb.
"How appropriate," I thought.
Lloyd hurried into the bar and plunked his man-purse--I mean satchel, Indiana Jones carries one, you know, onto the table and sat down.
"Lloyd, my man, what's this 'project' I keep hearing about?" I asked.
"For one thing, it's not ready for the big unveiling. For another, there are a couple of components that aren't behaving in their designed manner. For a third thing, I have a thirst as powerful as my power supply, and that needs to be taken care of first."
I waved at the Space Oddity, who took and delivered Lloyd's Carling lager as fast as a Mercury mission.
"If you aren't ready to unveil the 'Project', what else do you have for me?"
Lloyd opened up his satchel and pulled out an iPad with a bright, red, Huskers cover. "I wanted to go over the offense with you, today," he said, matter-of-factly. ""Preacherman said he'd be over later to talk about the Blackshirts, as long as you were still here."
"Right," I said. ""Might as well get our mutual obsession satisfied instead of actually doing the stuff we get paid for."
Lloyd gave me a brief look, weighing whether or not I was serious, before deciding to proceed.
Lloyd made a few taps at the Pad, some with a little flourish that I couldn't decide was a security method or if he had succumbed to the prevailing iPad user showiness that made them look like concert pianists playing a toy piano. "The biggest question mark I have is on offensive line."
"How so?" I asked, leaning back in my seat.
"Barney has to replace three starters from last year, including the center. They are all big enough, but strength has been a question for years, now. The knock on Barney is that he gets big guys that get pushed around. I have a feeling that this has to be his best unit, show signs of improvement or even his +3 Osborne shield may not be enough to save him."
"Why does his Osborne shield get a +3?"
"If Barney goes, so do three other Cottons."
"Make it +2, Ben's gone after this season, anyway."
"Fine, +2. I think we'll be fine at tackle, even with Moore leaving. Qvale has come into his own, Sirles is getting better and better. Choi and Long could be really good guards, with Rodriguez in the mix. Throw in one of the Cotton boys to add depth and we have six guys that can rotate the four positions. Center is the big question. Justin Jackson, Cole Pensick and Mark Pelini are duking it out. We may not know who gets it until Saturday."
"Very nice, what else have you got?"
"We are pretty much loaded at the skill positions. At receivers, Enunwa, Bell, Turner and Marlowe all offer speed, Enunwa is a dump truck when it comes to blocking and the others have upped their game on blocking, too. There is a lot of call to bring Westercamp in, but I think he should redshirt. Throw Ben Cotten and Reed in at Tight End and Martinez will have lots of quality targets to throw to,"
"Speaking of Martinez, is he getting ahead of the curve, or is he regressing?"
"I'll get to him in a minute. I want to hit the running backs. Burkhead (I-backasaurus Rex), is the official Heisman candidate for Nebraska. Hopefully he wont have to carry the ball 30+ times a game. Abdullah, Heard and even Imani Cross could get into it to spell Burkhead with Marrow leading the way at fullback."
"Finally, the big question, is Martinez finally ready for the Big Time?"
"Dunno," Lloyd sighed. We haven't really seen him for eight months. We keep hearing that he has improved his mechanics. We hear that his leadership and demeanor are better. We hear that he is healthy. Let me put it to you this way, for the first time in his career, high school included, he hasn't had to learn a completely new playbook. With the skill position players at his disposal, there is no reason for him not to have a very successful season. Huskerfan will be happy as long as he doesn't turn the ball over and as long as the Huskers win. Any stumbles will have the wolves howling for his backup, whether it is Kellogg, Carnes or Armstrong."
With that, Lloyd shut down his iPad, relaxed and nodded to the Preacherman, who had just walked in.
Husk-husk and on the qb.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Week One Run-up
The rain beading up on the window was a welcome sight. The summer had been as long, hot and uncomfortable as a made-for-tv drama with Don Johnson. I had been working on several cases that kept me busy, but at the moment I was performing an evidence review on the case of bourbon vs. rye. Bourbon had presented some excellent prima facie evidence, but rye was getting doing a good enough job on raising counter points that were creating a decent sense of reasonable doubt.
A sharp rap on my office door caused me to twisted awkwardly as Effie, my secretary, client screener and emergency operative walked in.
"You've got a visitor, Sam," she said, somewhat tentatively.
"A client?"
"No. Not a client. Not exactly." She chewed on her lip as she closed the door, pushing it closed with her back. She stared at the floor.
I decided that now would be a good time to take my feet off the piles of manila envelopes sitting on the filing cabinet and swivel around to face her before I lost my balance and fell off the chair, which would result in a grievous case of alcohol abuse. I granted a continuance and stashed the bottles.
Effie looked downcast, and the way she kept her hands behind herself told me she really didn't want me to know something, "C'mon, Effie, spill it. What's going on?" I asked using my concerned big brother voice. She's one of the few people in the world I trust, and I was hoping that she could trust me with whatever was bothering her.
"I have a problem, and I need a favor," she finally explained to the floor. "I invested some money in a project, and, well..."
"What kind of investment are we talking about?" I asked uneasily.
"Well, I have this...friend...who wanted to manage a band."
I leaned back in my chair and rolled my eyes. She hates when I do that, but I couldn't help it. "How much did you give this...'friend'," I asked, barely keeping my tone civil.
"10,000 dollars," she whispered.
"10 grand?" I nearly shouted. "A: where did you get 10 G's? I know how much I don't pay you. B: 'Starting a Band' is one of the oldest scams in the book. And 3: I don't even know were I'll start to look."
Her head snapped up. I winked at her. A faint smile was struggling to gain ground on her face. "You're going to take it?"
I slumped back in my chair, "Yeah, I'll take it. I hate to see a good friend get jacked like that. How did it happen?"
She bounded across the office and wrapped me up in a huge hug. "Oh, thank you. I know you'll be able to get my money back."
"Ah, yeah. About that. The money is probably long gone, Sweetheart. I might be able to find the guy..."
"Girl," she corrected.
I tilted my head, "Girl?"
"Yes. A friend of mine from school. She manages a band. I gave her the money to finance a tour, and then she disappeared."
"This band is where, now?"
"They're here, in town. They came to see me last night, wondering if my friend had come back here. They are running short on funds. They barely have enough for gas or food."
"Slow down, Sweetheart. One thing at a time. Does this friend have a name?"
"Susan Sulley."
"Last seen in?"
"Here, in Lincoln, two weeks ago. She told the lads that she was getting transportation arranged and that she would meet up with them to kick off the tour. They were supposed to leave yesterday, but Susan didn't show. Now they're stuck. They have the gear, but no place to stay and no way to get to their next gig."
"Here's what I'll do. I'll start nosing around, see what I can turn up. Somebody has to have seen something that will give me a lead. In the meantime, get the band together and have them meet me at 'Our Lady', tonight at 7, before it gets too crazy. I need to find Lloyd and Cassandra, anyway, for completely unrelated issues, but they might be able to help, too."
Effie was essentially bouncing with excitement. "Thank you, oh, thank you, I knew I could count on you."
"By the way, what is the name of this band?" I asked as I popped my hat on to my head.
"Groping in the Dark. They are a retro-80's synth/punk fusion band. They cover all the classics, and some of their own stuff, too."
I ushered Effie out of my office and headed downtown. My mind was filling with synthesizer sounds as the earworms gathered.
I made my way over to 'Our Lady', once inside the sounds of 'Im Sexy and I Know it" by LMFAO, were shaking the speakers. Several suits were sipping at beers and trying really hard not to imagine hamsters in thongs.
I grabbed a spot at my usual table near the back, saved a seat for Mr. Beam, and waited for Cassandra. I didn't have long to wait. Cassandra sat at the table. She was wearing her light grey Armani suit with the garnet tank. She looked so out of place, but it was completely by design. It was her goal to not appear untouchable as much as unobtainable.
"So, tell me, my dear, are you ready for the season to begin?"
"Not nearly as much as I'd like to be," she sighed. "All these new conference alignments have me a bit behind the curve. Just the other day I was trying to think about who would win the Big 12 North when I realized that there are only 10 teams in the Big 12 and they aren't even in divisions."
"Tell me about it," I said after sipping at my bourbon. "I pretty much decided that there was the Southeastern Conference of the NFL and the rest of college football trying to play catch-up."
"You're not too far wrong. As I look at it, there are six teams in the SEC that would win the ACC, ten that could win if they were in the Big East."
"All right, let's get this out of the way. Hit me with your traditional Top 13 as Cassandra Sees it."
"I have Nebraska at 13. Call me a homer, but I think that the offense is ready to break out, the defense doesn't have many big names, but they are better in more positions than they are worse in than last year. You can have Lloyd break down the roster for you."
"Interesting, good enough position to sneak up on opponents."
"Clemson is 12th. Lots of offensive firepower but not a great defense. Tough schedule, too, but to start the year, I have them here. Wisconsin, the Stinking Badgers are 11th. They need a new qb, and you don't get a Russell Wilson to transfer in every year. It will be the Monte Ball show as he runs for the Heisman behind a bunch of mastodons. West Virginia is 10th, as they try to make inroads with their traditional Midwest rivals."
I looked up and noticed she had her sly little grin. She was trying to mess with me. "Fine, we get to look forward to the annual showdown between the Mountaineers and Cowboys for tooth gap supremacy. What are your next three?"
"Oregon, need to fill some skill positions, but have a good defense and o-line in good shape. South Carolina is getting better and better in a tough conference. Michigan has a shot at the Rose Bowl, Hoke has those kids playing so much better than under Rodriguez and Shoelaces has learned how to be a true multi-role quarterback, which is scary."
"Let me have the next set," I said as I took another sip.
"Florid State has the defense, and is gearing up on offense. Georgia has an outstanding defense and just needs to get a little bit more efficient on offense and they could be right in the mix. Oklahoma has one of the best quarterbacks in the game, but really, really needs to stay healthy, and could get into the big show because they are the best team in an otherwise weak conference."
"Countdown to 3-2-1 for me, my dear."
Cassandra settled in and gave me that look like here cobalt eyes were seeing the future. "LSU is number 3, the loss of Mathieu will hurt more than most people realize. Brent Mussburger is still sobbing and crying little, tiny tears into his pillow each night. USC is number 2. The have a Heisman contender in Barkley, will have an improved ground game and is living proof that LA has enough talent to weather any NCAA storm short of the 'Death Penalty'. Alabama and the Red Elephants are number 1. Get used to it. They have two tough games of their first three, and if they survive those, they just need to get by LSU, again, for a shot at the whole enchilada."
"One last thing before I go to find Lloyd, give a quick snapshot of how you see the B10."
She sat back and closed her eyes, tenting her fingers on the table. "In the Leaders division, it is Wisconsin by far, then Ohio State, Penn State, Illinois, Purdue and Indiana. On our side of town, in the Legends, right now, I think it is Michigan, Nebraska, Michigan State, Iowa, Northwestern, and Minnesota."
I got up to leave, the girl on stage was dancing to 'Starman' by David Bowie while wearing a silver spacesuit with strategically placed re-entry shields.
Time to go find Lloyd and get the low-down on the Huskers and his 'project'.
Husk-husk and on the QB.
A sharp rap on my office door caused me to twisted awkwardly as Effie, my secretary, client screener and emergency operative walked in.
"You've got a visitor, Sam," she said, somewhat tentatively.
"A client?"
"No. Not a client. Not exactly." She chewed on her lip as she closed the door, pushing it closed with her back. She stared at the floor.
I decided that now would be a good time to take my feet off the piles of manila envelopes sitting on the filing cabinet and swivel around to face her before I lost my balance and fell off the chair, which would result in a grievous case of alcohol abuse. I granted a continuance and stashed the bottles.
Effie looked downcast, and the way she kept her hands behind herself told me she really didn't want me to know something, "C'mon, Effie, spill it. What's going on?" I asked using my concerned big brother voice. She's one of the few people in the world I trust, and I was hoping that she could trust me with whatever was bothering her.
"I have a problem, and I need a favor," she finally explained to the floor. "I invested some money in a project, and, well..."
"What kind of investment are we talking about?" I asked uneasily.
"Well, I have this...friend...who wanted to manage a band."
I leaned back in my chair and rolled my eyes. She hates when I do that, but I couldn't help it. "How much did you give this...'friend'," I asked, barely keeping my tone civil.
"10,000 dollars," she whispered.
"10 grand?" I nearly shouted. "A: where did you get 10 G's? I know how much I don't pay you. B: 'Starting a Band' is one of the oldest scams in the book. And 3: I don't even know were I'll start to look."
Her head snapped up. I winked at her. A faint smile was struggling to gain ground on her face. "You're going to take it?"
I slumped back in my chair, "Yeah, I'll take it. I hate to see a good friend get jacked like that. How did it happen?"
She bounded across the office and wrapped me up in a huge hug. "Oh, thank you. I know you'll be able to get my money back."
"Ah, yeah. About that. The money is probably long gone, Sweetheart. I might be able to find the guy..."
"Girl," she corrected.
I tilted my head, "Girl?"
"Yes. A friend of mine from school. She manages a band. I gave her the money to finance a tour, and then she disappeared."
"This band is where, now?"
"They're here, in town. They came to see me last night, wondering if my friend had come back here. They are running short on funds. They barely have enough for gas or food."
"Slow down, Sweetheart. One thing at a time. Does this friend have a name?"
"Susan Sulley."
"Last seen in?"
"Here, in Lincoln, two weeks ago. She told the lads that she was getting transportation arranged and that she would meet up with them to kick off the tour. They were supposed to leave yesterday, but Susan didn't show. Now they're stuck. They have the gear, but no place to stay and no way to get to their next gig."
"Here's what I'll do. I'll start nosing around, see what I can turn up. Somebody has to have seen something that will give me a lead. In the meantime, get the band together and have them meet me at 'Our Lady', tonight at 7, before it gets too crazy. I need to find Lloyd and Cassandra, anyway, for completely unrelated issues, but they might be able to help, too."
Effie was essentially bouncing with excitement. "Thank you, oh, thank you, I knew I could count on you."
"By the way, what is the name of this band?" I asked as I popped my hat on to my head.
"Groping in the Dark. They are a retro-80's synth/punk fusion band. They cover all the classics, and some of their own stuff, too."
I ushered Effie out of my office and headed downtown. My mind was filling with synthesizer sounds as the earworms gathered.
I made my way over to 'Our Lady', once inside the sounds of 'Im Sexy and I Know it" by LMFAO, were shaking the speakers. Several suits were sipping at beers and trying really hard not to imagine hamsters in thongs.
I grabbed a spot at my usual table near the back, saved a seat for Mr. Beam, and waited for Cassandra. I didn't have long to wait. Cassandra sat at the table. She was wearing her light grey Armani suit with the garnet tank. She looked so out of place, but it was completely by design. It was her goal to not appear untouchable as much as unobtainable.
"So, tell me, my dear, are you ready for the season to begin?"
"Not nearly as much as I'd like to be," she sighed. "All these new conference alignments have me a bit behind the curve. Just the other day I was trying to think about who would win the Big 12 North when I realized that there are only 10 teams in the Big 12 and they aren't even in divisions."
"Tell me about it," I said after sipping at my bourbon. "I pretty much decided that there was the Southeastern Conference of the NFL and the rest of college football trying to play catch-up."
"You're not too far wrong. As I look at it, there are six teams in the SEC that would win the ACC, ten that could win if they were in the Big East."
"All right, let's get this out of the way. Hit me with your traditional Top 13 as Cassandra Sees it."
"I have Nebraska at 13. Call me a homer, but I think that the offense is ready to break out, the defense doesn't have many big names, but they are better in more positions than they are worse in than last year. You can have Lloyd break down the roster for you."
"Interesting, good enough position to sneak up on opponents."
"Clemson is 12th. Lots of offensive firepower but not a great defense. Tough schedule, too, but to start the year, I have them here. Wisconsin, the Stinking Badgers are 11th. They need a new qb, and you don't get a Russell Wilson to transfer in every year. It will be the Monte Ball show as he runs for the Heisman behind a bunch of mastodons. West Virginia is 10th, as they try to make inroads with their traditional Midwest rivals."
I looked up and noticed she had her sly little grin. She was trying to mess with me. "Fine, we get to look forward to the annual showdown between the Mountaineers and Cowboys for tooth gap supremacy. What are your next three?"
"Oregon, need to fill some skill positions, but have a good defense and o-line in good shape. South Carolina is getting better and better in a tough conference. Michigan has a shot at the Rose Bowl, Hoke has those kids playing so much better than under Rodriguez and Shoelaces has learned how to be a true multi-role quarterback, which is scary."
"Let me have the next set," I said as I took another sip.
"Florid State has the defense, and is gearing up on offense. Georgia has an outstanding defense and just needs to get a little bit more efficient on offense and they could be right in the mix. Oklahoma has one of the best quarterbacks in the game, but really, really needs to stay healthy, and could get into the big show because they are the best team in an otherwise weak conference."
"Countdown to 3-2-1 for me, my dear."
Cassandra settled in and gave me that look like here cobalt eyes were seeing the future. "LSU is number 3, the loss of Mathieu will hurt more than most people realize. Brent Mussburger is still sobbing and crying little, tiny tears into his pillow each night. USC is number 2. The have a Heisman contender in Barkley, will have an improved ground game and is living proof that LA has enough talent to weather any NCAA storm short of the 'Death Penalty'. Alabama and the Red Elephants are number 1. Get used to it. They have two tough games of their first three, and if they survive those, they just need to get by LSU, again, for a shot at the whole enchilada."
"One last thing before I go to find Lloyd, give a quick snapshot of how you see the B10."
She sat back and closed her eyes, tenting her fingers on the table. "In the Leaders division, it is Wisconsin by far, then Ohio State, Penn State, Illinois, Purdue and Indiana. On our side of town, in the Legends, right now, I think it is Michigan, Nebraska, Michigan State, Iowa, Northwestern, and Minnesota."
I got up to leave, the girl on stage was dancing to 'Starman' by David Bowie while wearing a silver spacesuit with strategically placed re-entry shields.
Time to go find Lloyd and get the low-down on the Huskers and his 'project'.
Husk-husk and on the QB.
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