Dead Shot (A Cal Murphy Thriller Book 1)

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Mike Miller's office would have made Cal's favorite TV detective, Monk, go into shock.

Crusty half-eaten sandwiches were wedged next to mounds of paperwork on his desk, some that appeared classroom related, others that looked like football plays. Two pens with chewed off ends oozed ink onto his desk. Phys Ed text books were piled in the corner next to used mouth pieces and broken helmets. The white cinder block walls remained bare with the exception of a cheaply framed 1994 District Coach of the Year certificate hanging slightly off kilter. A wafting aroma of sweaty gym socks and tobacco juice hung in the air.

After a year of covering the Statenville Wildcats football program, Cal had never met Miller in his office. Now he knew why. He wondered if a hazmat suit was more appropriate attire for this unannounced visit.

Miller wasn't in his office.

"Can I help you?" came a voice from behind Cal and Kelly.

Cal spun around to see Buddy Walker, the head boys basketball coach and an assistant football coach.

Walker was new by Statenville standards, set to enter his third year at the school. Coaching jobs rarely opened up at Statenville High. It was so far off the beaten path that nobody considered it a stepping-stone for his coaching career-it was a final destination. You didn't go to Statenville High if you wanted to coach in Boise or Salt Lake. You went there because you were either from there or you wanted to live there until you died. Walker certainly wasn't the former, but many of the townspeople weren't convinced he was the latter either. Walker wasn't the smartest coach by Cal's estimation. But he possessed plenty of youthful energy, a valuable trait Walker needed when he was hired to replace his popular predecessor Nick Zentz, who died in a tragic hunting accident.

"Hi, Coach Walker. How are you?"

"Oh, hey there, Cal. We could be doing a lot better today."

"Yeah, I'm still in shock that those three boys are gone. I interviewed Cody last week for our football preview."

Walker looked down and dragged a used mouthpiece across the floor with his foot. His face silently agreed with Cal.

"How's Coach Miller holding up?" Kelly asked.

"He's doing all right under the circumstances. But he's pretty torn up. This team is like a family and right now we're all hurting."

"Is Coach Miller here?" Kelly asked.

"Yeah, you can find him in his own private sanctuary-the football field."

Up until this moment, the report of the three boys' death was just a sensational news story. Now, the human element of what happened struck Cal. He began to feel a little uncomfortable, even embarrassed that he hadn't thought of how Miller might be feeling. But he still had a job to do no matter how awkward it was.

"Thanks, Buddy," Cal said somberly.

Cal and Kelly quietly exited Miller's office and headed for the football field.

Statenville High may play eight-man football and have only 3,500 people living in the city limits, but Wildcat Stadium had a seat for every one of them.

Cal often wondered why. When it came to wins and losses, the whole athletic program was an embarrassment. But that didn't seem to matter to the people of Statenville. They supported their team no matter what. And if you didn't believe that, the fact that Miller had two winning seasons in 20 years - and about to begin his 21st - was proof enough.

Cal figured the death of three team members would be devastating to Miller under any circumstances. It was hard enough to find enough boys to suit up each season. In a tragic 24-hour period, his roster had been reduced to 14 players. But these three boys were supposed to lead Statenville to a district crown and maybe even a state title. That only added to an already difficult professional situation for Miller.