Love Inspired Suspense April 2021--Box Set 2 of 2 by Laura Scott (free e reader .TXT) 📕

for a glass of water to hydrate his parched throat. Instead, he cleared it and pointed to baskets of apples available for purchase. Apple butter. Pies. Jams. Pecans. Candied apples. “We could skip picking and go straight to buying. We’re technically here to talk to Alma Thompson anyway.”

“No. I mean, yeah, I’d much rather buy apples and text Alma Thompson instead of being here. But I need to push through. Keep taking one step then another. So let’s pick apples. Be...be in the world.”

Georgia had been through the wringer. Facing the world—the place she feared most—was amazing to him. She was a fighter, not taking the easy way out. He’d keep his eyes peeled and make sure no harm came to her.

The manager led them to the employee lounge, where Alma Thompson sat picking at a salad. With hair grayer than he expected for her forty-two years and eyes revealing even more layers of exhaustion, she laid down her fork.

He made introductions. She tensed and followed up with the need for her lawyer.

That didn’t surprise him. “No problem. But if you’re afraid of getting in trouble for accepting gifts and a proposal to see your boy go to college for free, don’t be. You can’t get in trouble for that.”

Georgia sat down, straightened her purse that was hanging across her middle and scooted her chair closer to Miss Thompson. “My friend Jared played ball like your Moore. He had a family. A mom who doted on him and bragged about his athletic ability. She would love to know who stole him away before his time. Wouldn’t you want to know if the tables were turned? By talking to us, you could help us find out.”

Miss Thompson shed a tear. “I have to live in this county. Work here. I can’t...I can’t help you.”

“But someone did approach you about using the Pine Road address so Moore could play at Courage High. Maybe even helped you out a little financially?” Colt asked.

She gave one almost invisible nod.

“How did you get away with the proof of residence?” Georgia asked.

She ran her hands through her hair. “I was told it would all be taken care of. Moore would be in a state championship district and molded into a player who would get a full ride, barring injury that would keep him from playing.”

“Please give us a name. Please,” Georgia begged. “One name and we’ll leave.”

She chewed her lip, clearly torn about doing the right thing. Finally she spoke. “It was Coach Benard. He came to my house two months before Moore’s freshman year. He offered me four thousand dollars and a promise he could go to college for free, and six months of my mortgage was paid. He’ll graduate next year, and he’s going to Ole Magnolia. First in my family to ever go to college.”

Harry Benard. He wouldn’t be telling them anything. “Did he come to you in the last week or two about anything?”

“Yes. He stopped by Sunday night. Told me if anyone came calling to say I wanted a lawyer. I told him I couldn’t pay for a lawyer, but he said not to worry. One would be provided for free. Then he gave me a card.” She reached into her purse and handed Colt the business card.

Reggie Leeway.

Chance Leeway’s dad. Well, that was interesting.

“Is my boy going to have to return to Southern High? Will he lose his free ride? That was the deal. He had to play for the Cougars—even when Coach Benard transferred. I asked...but the deal was the deal.”

Again. Interesting.

“I don’t know about college.” Colt stood. “But my guess is he’ll have to transfer back to Southern High. They have a good program. He still might be able to get an athletic scholarship.” But not guaranteed. He refrained from sharing that Coach Benard had been killed. He sympathized with the single mom, and she had enough to deal with at the moment. They left her and strode through the store into a designated kid area full of games and rides.

“Coach Flanigan had to know. Why else couldn’t Moore transfer with Benard?” Colt asked.

“Maybe the deal wasn’t with Flanigan but Coach Jackson and Benard, or a booster and Benard. He might have known, though—or turned a blind eye. Flanigan was good at that.”

“True.” He surveyed their surroundings, an eerie feeling creeping into his chest. “And Reggie Leeway? Why would he be on retainer for an illegal recruiting ring that didn’t even help out his own son?”

“I don’t know. Maybe the money was worth it. His son didn’t need a scholarship like those other boys.” Georgia frowned. “Reggie Leeway might simply be an opportunist.”

Or the plot was thickening. There was entirely too much connection. Mae should know by now who that property belonged to on Pine Road. He whipped out his cell and called her. She answered on the third ring.

“Let me guess, you want to know who owns the property on Pine Road.”

“Mind reader.”

“It was purchased by a James Kreger, but here’s the dealio. I can’t find a legit James Kreger who owns the property. Nothing.”

Colt relayed their conversation with Miss Thompson, then he hung up. “This thing gets deeper every second.”

“I feel like we’re already drowning in it.” Georgia inhaled and closed her eyes. “I love fall, and all this is ruining it.”

“I know,” he murmured.

She opened her eyes and held his gaze. Man, she was beautiful. He searched her eyes, almost as blue as the Los Angeles Chargers’ new jerseys. What thoughts was she holding behind them? Were they anywhere near on the level of his?

All he wanted to do was lean down and kiss her, taste those soft lips and melt into her, but that would be detrimental. Instead, he tousled the sloppy bun on her head. Strands of blond hair spilled out, and little pieces framed her face and brushed her neck. Way more appealing than she probably intended it to be. He could envision her in one of his flannels—all oversize with the