Thread of Hope

SEVENTEEN

Kelly Rundles emerged from the gym in a hooded sweatshirt, a huge duffel bag on her shoulder. She convinced me that I was as hungry as she was and I followed her to a coffee shop over on Orange.

After we ordered, she looked at me over her Diet Coke. “So. I’m probably not supposed to be talking to you.”

I dropped a straw in my soda. “Don’t see why not. Your A.D. didn’t ban me from campus.”

“Yeah, but the man who matters probably wouldn’t be very happy.”

“Jon Jordan?”

Her mouth twisted up with irritation. “And probably most of the other parents, too.”

“I don’t want you to lose your job,” I said.

“Oh, I won’t,” she said. “The team is winning. Trust me. That supersedes just about everything around Coronado. They might tell me they aren’t happy about it, but they won’t do a damn thing as long as we’re winning games.”

“Wasn’t like that when I went there,” I told her. “People barely cared. May have had something to do with us not being very good.”

She smiled in a way that told me she’d experienced that, too. “That’ll make people not care in a hurry.

I felt like, maybe, I’d finally made a solid connection with someone who might be able to help. “The girls said Meredith’s taking a couple of days off?”

Kelly sat back in the booth, concern and anxiety filtering into her features. “Yeah. She’s been through a lot. She needs to get herself right before she comes back. But I’d expect that to be just another day or two.”

“Tough kid?”

“The toughest,” she said, stirring the straw in her soda. “Plays her ass off.”

“Meg told me she’s the best player on your team.”

Kelly nodded. “She is. Easily. She’s carried us the last two years. Being recruited by a lot of West Coast schools. Not that she needs a scholarship with her family’s money, but she’s that good.”

Our food came and as the waitress slipped the plates in front of us, I asked “Outside of basketball, what kind of kid is she?”

Kelly pulled her napkin down into her lap. “Smart, sharp, solid. One of the ones I don’t have to worry about.” She held her fork above her salad. “That’s why it all seemed so odd.”

“It all?”

She shoved a forkful of lettuce into her mouth, chewed and nodded. “When she filed the complaint against Winslow.”

“You didn’t buy it?” I asked.

“Wasn’t about buying it,” she said. “I was stunned that she’d be the kid in the middle of something like this.” She laid her fork down. “I don’t know what it was like when you went here, but I’ll bet it was different. These kids? They don’t act fifteen. They act like yuppies. A lot of the girls date college guys. Seems like they all drive cars that are worth what most people would like to put down on a home. Dress like they’re always going clubbing and that’s because, half the time, they are going clubbing.” She picked up the fork again. “So I’m not surprised that a girl at Coronado might get mixed up in something. I was just surprised that it was Meredith.”

“Did you believe her?” I picked up my sandwich but didn't take a bite.

She hesitated, pursed her lips, then nodded. “At first, yeah. Like I said, she’s a sharp kid. No bullshit in her, you know? I know her better than Winslow, so I immediately believed her.”

“Chuck wouldn’t hurt a kid,” I said, feeling the need to get it out there as to where I stood.

“After I talked to him, I believed that, too,” she said. “They both seemed like they were telling the truth. So I don’t have a clue as to what happened.”

“Were they close? Chuck and Meredith?”

She picked at the lettuce with her fork. “Yeah. But he was good with all of the girls. He’s this giant, good- looking guy who can play. He’s like a god to them. They immediately gravitated toward him.” She set her elbows on the table and jabbed at the air with the fork. “And he could coach. Didn’t matter the position. He knew how to teach.”

It again surprised me to hear that about him. I never saw him as a mentor. It made me want to see him doing that in action. And somewhere in those thoughts, I felt a twinge of guilt because maybe I had missed some change in Chuck’s life.

“And Meredith’s one of those kids who never wants to quit playing,” Kelly continued. “Always wants to shoot after practice, always wants to work out a little more. From day one, Winslow was willing to stick around and work with her. I stuck around, too, at first, to make sure things were cool.”

“What do you mean?”

“An older male in a gym with teenage girls,” she said, as if it was a no-brainer. “A guy I didn’t really know. I needed to be comfortable with that. After I watched him for a week or so, I was. No problem at all with it.” She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, thinking. “But they were spending a lot of time together.

My conversation with Jon Jordan flashed back through my head. “Stricker told me that he OK'd Chuck’s hiring after Jordan recommended him. Did Jordan know him?

“No. He did that as a favor,” she explained. “It kind of went roundabout. A friend of mine recommended Winslow to me. After I met him, I wanted him, but it’s hard to get someone who doesn’t teach here on the coaching staff. They like everyone to be on campus full-time. I knew I needed an extra push. So I went back to my friend and asked her to get Jordan to make a phone call.”

“Your friend knew both Chuck and Jordan?

“Yeah. She actually works for Jordan. Not sure how she and Chuck met.”

“Can I ask her name?”

Kelly took a drink and set the glass on the table. “She’s Jon Jordan’s bodyguard. Gina Coleman.”

EIGHTEEN

Gina intimated knowing Chuck when she’d laid me out in Jon Jordan’s driveway, but she hadn’t explained. I was officially confused.

“Gina and I have been friends for a long time,” Kelly explained. “She said she knew this guy, that he knew basketball and that he might be able to help. She knew I was looking for a volunteer assistant.”

“Any idea how they knew each other?” I said, thoroughly mystified at what I was hearing.

“Isn’t Winslow your buddy?”A confused grin spread across her face.

“Yes.” I didn't offer anything else.

She waited, then shrugged. “Gina said they went to school together. A long time ago.”

It would have been before high school, I thought. I’d met him freshman year.

None of that was making sense so I switched gears.

“How long have you known Gina?” I asked.

“Since high school, up in Orange County,” she said. “We played ball together. We both came down here for college and stuck around.”

“What did she do before she worked for Jordan?”

Kelly pressed her lips together and shook her head. “I’ll talk about Winslow. I’m not going to talk about Gina. She’s a friend and you can ask her yourself.”

I nodded. “Okay. Bottom line. You’ve spent time with both Chuck and Meredith. Who do you believe?”

“I told you. I don’t know.”

“Make a choice. Go with your gut. Who’s telling the truth?”

Kelly shifted in the booth, like she was trying to get comfortable and couldn’t find the right spot. “If I have to choose, I choose Meredith.”

My stomach sank. “Why?”

She thought about that for a long moment before she answered. “I’m not sure. Chuck looked me in the eye