‘Marcus has a little play in Vegas. That’s not it.’ Kip tossed the black file folder onto the couch beside Angie.
She didn’t pick it up.
Kip said, ‘It’s Jo Figaroa.’
Angie’s heart did a weird shake. She had never heard anyone say Jo’s name aloud before. It had a kind of music to it.
Kip said, ‘Polaski?’
She worked to keep her expression neutral as she picked up the folder. The first page had a photograph of Jo. Her hair was shorter. She was holding a small boy in her arms. She was smiling. Angie had never seen her daughter smile before.
Harding brushed peanut dust off his tie. ‘She popping pills again?’
‘She’s an addict?’ Angie felt a razor blade pump through her heart. ‘How long?’
‘Got pulled over in high school for a DWI. They found a stack of scripts in her glove compartment. Valium, Percocet, codeine.’
Angie thumbed through Jo’s background check. She found a juvenile arrest record. There was no mention of illegal prescriptions.
Harding explained, ‘Her dad had some rhythm with the local force. He got it bumped. She did some community service. Everybody got paid.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Talked to the AO.’
The arresting officer. Angie checked the address on the report. Thomaston. A small-town cop would be able to hide evidence, but it would take more than one payout.
‘Whatever. Drugs aren’t her problem.’ Kip had traded his basketball for a BankShot. He twisted off the cap and tossed it into the trashcan. ‘It’s Marcus.’
‘Marcus?’ Angie looked up from the file. She tried to keep her tone conversational, but the thought of Marcus Rippy sniffing around her daughter made her want to rip his face off. ‘What’s he got to do with her?’
‘They grew up together. He’s the reason she met her husband.’ Kip said this as if everyone already knew. ‘Christ, Polaski, don’t you ever read anything?’
‘Not if it has to do with sports.’
Harding explained, ‘Rippy grew up in Griffin. He and Jo had some kind of summer-lovin’ bullshit at junior Bible camp. Fast-forward to his senior year. He was being heavily scouted. Some teams sent players down to woo him. Informal stuff, nothing that wouldn’t pass inspection. That’s when Jo got her head turned.’
Angie said, ‘Reuben Figaroa was one of the players who was sent to woo Marcus.’ She had always wondered how Jo had met her future husband. Now she understood. And she also understood that Harding knew a hell of a lot more about her daughter than she did. It made sense. Kip would’ve wanted Jo seriously vetted before he took on Reuben Figaroa as a client. Wives and girlfriends were always the weakest points.
She asked, ‘Have you asked Marcus if anything is going on between him and Jo?’
There was collective guffawing. No one questioned Marcus Rippy. 110 took a paternal relationship with all of their athletes, with the understanding that at any time, their bratty kids could take their toys and leave.
Angie said, ‘Let me wrap my head around this. Junior high, Marcus and Jo are sweet on each other. Summer’s over. They break up. A few years later, LaDonna hooks up with Marcus. She would’ve known about his previous girlfriends. I don’t see her not getting a full history, even as a teenager.’ She asked, ‘Why is it a problem now?’
‘Because Jo is here, right under her nose,’ Laslo answered. ‘La D seemed okay with it at first. Brought Jo into the group. Threw a party for her. Took her to lunch. But lately she’s been giving Jo the hairy eyeball.’
Angie knew that this would not turn out well for Jo. LaDonna was stone-cold crazy when it came to her husband. Office lore had it that she had taken a shot at a cheerleader who had gotten too close to Marcus at a party. ‘What about Reuben? Is he suspicious?’
‘Who the hell knows? The guy is a sphinx. He’s probably said ten words to me the whole time I’ve known him. None of them “good job” or “thank you”, by the way.’ Kip chugged the rest of his energy drink. His throat worked like a goose being fattened up for paté. Angie didn’t know which was worse, watching him play with his ball or listening to him gurgle cherry lime BankShot. Ninety percent of his day was spent doing one or the other. By quitting time, his upper lip was like the red on a beach ball.
‘Hey.’ Harding tapped Angie’s shoulder. ‘Nobody calls him Reuben. It’s Fig. Didn’t you read his bio?’
‘Why would I read his bio?’
Kip belched. ‘Because he’s Marcus’s go-to guy. Because he brings in millions of dollars to the firm. Because once his knee gets straightened out, he has the potential to bring in even more.’
Harding asked, ‘What’s wrong with his knee?’
Kip side-eyed Laslo. ‘Nothing’s wrong with his knee.’
Angie closed the file. ‘Okay, what’s the problem we’re all here to solve?’
‘The problem is that Marcus is getting close to Jo again, and LaDonna doesn’t like it, and when LaDonna isn’t happy, ain’t none of us happy.’
Angie couldn’t see it. Reuben struck her as possessive, and Jo seemed to like that just fine. ‘What makes you think they’re getting close?’
‘Because I’ve got eyes in my head.’ Kip opened another BankShot. The bright red liquid spilled onto the floor. ‘You can feel it when they’re together. Where were you tonight?’
‘Not trying to feel things between two adult people.’
‘I saw it too.’ Laslo started pacing. He was taking this seriously. ‘Marcus touched her elbow when he gave her a drink. Intimate-like.’
Harding asked, ‘We looking at a Tiger Woods situation?’
Angie asked, ‘What does that mean?’
Kip said, ‘Tell me you know Tiger Woods is a golfer.’
‘Yes, I know who he is,’ Angie said, though she had no idea how.
Laslo explained, ‘Tiger was at the top of his game, then his family life fell apart, and now he’s hit rock bottom. Can’t even swing a club anymore.’
‘Why did his family life fall apart?’
‘Doesn’t matter,’ Kip said. ‘What matters is that Marcus is the same way. If things are bad at home, they’re bad on the court. His game is tied to LaDonna.’
Angie still couldn’t see it. LaDonna was as erratic as a Ping-Pong ball, but Marcus was having his best season yet. ‘How so?’
Kip said, ‘Anytime she mentions divorce, you can count on at least five points being shaved from the board. More if she calls a lawyer.’
Angie wanted to laugh, but they were obviously dead serious.
‘Five points.’ Harding was nodding his head, probably planning how he was going to exploit this information with his bookie. ‘Marcus can’t play without her.’
Angie asked, ‘Does LaDonna know she’s got this power?’
‘What the hell do you think?’ Kip flashed Laslo an incredulous look. ‘Does LaDonna know?’ He grabbed the basketball. ‘She uses it like a God damm guillotine over our heads.’
Harding put down the empty peanut bowl. He clapped his hands clean. ‘You want us to plant some Oxy on Fig’s wife, call the cops, stick her in the pokey for the night?’
Angie’s heart banged into her throat. ‘That sounds extreme.’
Harding didn’t seem to think so. ‘Why use a hammer when you can use an ax?’
She struggled to come up with reasons not to. ‘Because Reuben—Fig—is married to this woman. Because she’s got a kid—his kid. Because she might not be screwing Marcus.’