The Girl With Faraway Eyes

                Kicking off the 2013 season a little differently. So much analysis, predictions, prognostications, etc. are out there. This is a story, that will play out over the course of the season, with Nebraska football as the background. I'm not going to get into depth charts, recruiting and play calling so much. What I will do, is tell my tale with significant plot points being derived from the games. I Hope you enjoy it.

 

 

      I loved getting here before anyone else. The staff knows me. Ryan, specifically, knew how I liked my drinks. The cool and the dark is always as refreshing as long pull of ice cold pop after a night of too many ghosts.

            The stool was at the perfect level for me to keep an eye on the guy directly across from me. We were surrounded by hundreds of enemy soldiers in browns, greens and the occasional blue. Their cheerful labels and whimsical names did little to belie their menace or potential to initiate a banzai charge. I nodded at the other guy and raised my glass. He returned the salute and I knew we would go down together if the attack was launched. We couldn't win, but we'd take as many bastards with us as we could.

            Business is lousy. Divorce gigs aren't what they used to be. Back in the Cretaceous Period, you needed to have some sort of proof if you wanted to appear before a judge and dissolve. Now, it's usually a case of, "You wanna?"

"Yep."

"3K, a short wait, and we're outta here."

            There was still the occasional contested issue where one side would want dirt on the other and needed to find some muck-raking, garbage-diving low-life to provide the goods. That's what my cards read... on the back. Throw in a fidelity test and a background check or two for a blue blood and I managed to get the rent paid and the cat fed.

            I smelled her before I saw her. The scent of L'air de Temps pushed through the other smells like a bodyguard clearing a path for a starlet through the paparazzi. I nodded at Ryan, made the 'two' sign and indicated the seat to my right. Ryan poured two glasses of bourbon and placed one in front of me and the other in front of Tawna as she sat next to me.

            "Hey, there, Kitten," I said. "What's a girl like you doing in  place like this?" I always wanted to say that.

            "Can, the crap, Sam. I'm here on business." She tossed the bourbon back in one smooth motion.

One of the many things I dug about Tawna, she could drink with the big boys. "Something must be brewing," I said. "You wouldn't be saying hello to the only reason we keep Kentucky in the union before sundown unless it was important."

"It is." The bourbon was already beginning to work its magic. I could see the tension beginning to unwind. A bit. You had to know where to look and you couldn't look directly. I had the guy opposite look for me.

            She emptied her glass, took a deep breath and turned to me. "We have a situation." She had my attention, for real, now. "There have been some threats made to one of the football players. Not him, directly, but this girlfriend-slash-hookup-slash-possible baby mama that he is involved with."

            I smiled. I laughed a little bit. Mistake.

            "What?!", Tawna demanded.

            "Nothing. I'm just amused by you using the term, 'baby mama'." After shrugging off the daggers her eyes shot at me, I waited a beat and rejoined.  "Okey. Kid's got girl problems. How do you and the Security Detail get involved? And more importantly, why has it got your Vicky's Secret unmentionables bunched up like the old dudes at Grandmothers on free pudding night?"

            "We can't get involved, directly. The girl isn't a student, so we can't even go talk to her, really. The player is the only one suggesting there have been threats, and he won't go to the police, since it would be a 'distraction'. The coaches care, but they know they can't make him do anything not related to football or class. So I'm stuck, not able to do what I know needs to be done and my hiphuggers are right where they're supposed to be." She motioned at Ryan to bring two more.

            "Fine. Why tell me all this?", I asked.

            "Are you going to actually make me say it?"

            "Say what? You got a tough nut to crack and your hands are tied. Normally, you're not into that sort of thing, so you're doubly pissed off. I would be, too."

 

            She gripped her glass a little tighter. I was hitting all the points I knew I shouldn't. I was having fun, though.

            "What I need," she said. "Is someone I can...trust...to check this out and see if it's a legitimate threat. I need to get it resolved and kept out of the public view, too. I'm tap-dancing in a mine field here, Sam."

That did it. She used my name. This was serious. I tossed back the rest of my bourbon and looked at the guy across from me. He looked me in the eye and reminded me that I owed her. "All right", I said, pushing my hat back. Give me the particulars. Let me know the no-go zones, too."

            "Would that matter?"

            "I'm wounded by that crack. I only break the rules when absolutely necessary."

            "Necessary being as often as possible."

            "Hey. I'm helping you out, remember."

            "You're helping me out because you need the gig, and it involves football. If the kid were on the gymnastics team, you wouldn't care."

            "That's true," I nodded. "But neither would anyone else. And you wouldn't be all hot and bothered about keeping it under the rug."

            It was her turn to toss back the bourbon.

            "Let me have my tech guy, Lloyd to work the case, too," I said.

            She looked me over, thought a minute, "Agreed."

            "Good, because without him, my idea of a wire tap is adding an extra piece of string to the tin-can line." That actually got a hint of a smile. "So, what, exactly, do you want me to find out?"

            "You need to find out exactly what the nature of the relationship is. Determine if there is a threat, the nature of the threat and determine what the motivation is. You get all that, I can get your fees, plus expenses."

            "Where's that going to come from?"

            "I'm consulting with you," she said. Then she winked.

            With that, she spun off the stool and sauntered to the door. Her hiphuggers were in the right place. I caught the guy across from me looking.

            I took stock of my situation. I had to locate and deal with a threat to a football player, without knowing the exact origin or nature of the threat. The first game was only a week away. I started listing off all the characters that might have an interest in how well a player performs. Fans, business owners, the 'O' Street bookmakers, opposing fans, the Vegas bookies, local and national media, the students, the team, the coaches, the athletic department and the U in general.

            Easy, right?

            I had to get in touch with Lloyd and make a few calls. I needed Tawna to provide the name of the player and his girlfriend...or whatever.

            I pulled the schedule out of my wallet, along with a couple of bills for Ryan. Wyoming was the first game. In Lincoln. I didn't have a whole lot of time to dwell on it, but I do know they are called the Cowboys, and it was time to saddle up and ride.