QB1 by Pete Bowen Page A

both of us.
“I saw you on TV, Roger. You were great.” Even unflappable Roger
Goody was tongue tied. “Come this way, Paul is watching baseball.”
The house was right out of Architectural Digest. Every room was
perfect.
    “You have a beautiful house, Mrs.
Isackson”
    “Please call me Lydia and thank you, Tom.
Paul told me you were working with the team on the murder. It’s
such a shock,” she said, as we walked into the den where Paul
Isackson sat watching a baseball game on a huge LCD screen.
    “I’ll say it was a shock,” said Paul. “We
went to bed last night thinking we were going to Miami and woke up
this morning and found out we were staying here.” He stood and
shook hands with Roger and me. “So how’s it going, did you guys
solve it yet?”
    “At this point, the most important thing is
just making sure the team is secure,” I said. “That’s our first
priority.”
    “Well, with security outside and an arsenal
inside, we feel secure,” said Isackson. Lydia sat next to her
husband. They were an attractive couple. “I’ve been a hunter and a
gun collector all my life, so heaven help the jihad motherfucker
that tries coming in after me and my family, right Babe?” he asked
his wife. She smiled and put a hand on his leg and he looked back
at the baseball game on the huge LCD screen.
    “How is Elizabeth doing, Tom?” she asked. “I
feel so bad for her. I’d bet anything Tony and her were going to
get back together. I’ll bet that’s why he was there last
night.”
    “She has been very upset,” I said. “This has
been a big shock for her. She’s going through the grieving
process.”
    “We were very close. I just feel terrible
about all this,” Lydia said. “What are the plans for the
services?”
    “That’s really still up in the air. They
haven’t even released the body,” I said. “I wanted to ask you,
Paul, if you may have heard where Tony has been for the last
month?”
    “I really didn’t hear a thing,” he said. “I
have a private trainer so wasn’t around the offices much. We were
back in Utah before training camp started. I wasn’t talking to any
of the rest of the team. All I can do is my job. My job is to be in
shape and get ready to lead a team with my God given talents. We’ve
been praying a lot on this contract situation, and I can’t help but
see the hand of God in how this worked out.” I was stunned by the
last remark and couldn’t think of anything else to say.
    “Well, I hope it works out for you and the
Team and best of luck on the upcoming season,” I said and stood up
to go.
    He and his wife stood and he said, “Thank you
and I’ll pray you find the murderer quickly so we can all get back
to football.”
    “I’ll show you to the door,” said Lydia.
“Please give my condolences to Elizabeth if you see her. She’s in
our hearts and prayers.”
    “I will,” I said, “and thank you for your
time.”
    When we got to the car, Roger said, “She was
really beautiful.”
    “And he’s a fucking idiot,” I said.
    “Well that pretty much summarizes things,”
Elizabeth said.
    “He thinks it’s the hand of God that had a
part in Tony’s death. God didn’t want him to go to Miami,” I
said.
    “What did you think of her, Tom?” Liz
asked.
    “The beautiful, doting wife. She said you and
she were close and wanted me to pass on her condolences if I saw
you.”
    “We were close?” Liz said. Were is the
operative word here. We saw them socially a couple of times and I
sat with her during the games at the beginning of the season. We
went to a couple of charity functions together. As I got to know
her, I started to see what a back stabbing, nasty person she was.
She rarely had something good to say about anyone. She was just
mean. By the time of that fourth game, when Paul, then Jeff was
injured, I was dreading sitting by her at the games.” She sat
looking out the window as the car started to move. We had one more
stop tonight.
    “You okay