Touchdown Tony Crowne and the Mystery of the Missing Cheerleader (13 page)

With Lake Haerr getting closer with every step, Bouguereau slowed his pace and crossed to the other side of the street in case she should turn around for one more look. As she walked down the driveway, she did, indeed, turn and quickly check to see if anyone was following her. Instead of heading into the lakefront house, she followed the brick pathway around it and down to the boathouse. Craning his head around the side of the house, he watched as she climbed the exterior stairs to the front door, felt around the top of the carved-wood sign which read, “Welcome to Whittaker’s Wigwam,” found the front door key, unlocked it and went inside.

As soon as she shut the door, Bouguereau moved stealthily down to the boathouse using the trees and bushes in the backyard as cover. When he reached the boathouse, he went to the boat-level door and finding it locked, felt the top of the door for a key and muttered to himself, “Come on, come on. If you leave a key at the other door, surely you will leave a key at this door, hmm? Aha! Found you!” Gently unlocking the door and slowly opening it to prevent any noisy creaks, Bouguereau entered the boat slip area. Natural daylight filtered through the windows and under the boat door providing him with enough light to move around without knocking anything over.

With their boat in storage for the fall and winter, the waves lazily lapped the empty slip area creating an echo that was soothing to Bouguereau, but made it difficult for him to hear what was going on upstairs. He stood at the bottom of the interior staircase and listened for a few moments. Hearing faint voices, he gingerly climbed up the stairs to listen better.

Now at the top of the stairs, Bouguereau lightly tried turning the doorknob, but found it locked. He thought: Ah! Shall the third door also have a key nearby? Running his hand along the ledge, he found the key and whispered, "
Que oui
! You betcha!"

Little by little, Bouguereau slid the door open without making a sound and eased into the kitchen area. He could no longer hear any voices nor any movement whatsoever within the boathouse. He noticed the food from Tiny’s restaurant was sitting on the counter and not yet unpacked. His stomach did little flip-flops of hunger when he smelled the aroma of two barbeque rib dinners wafting from the carry out bag. Sniffing the air once more, not only could he smell the rib dinners, but he could also clearly distinguish another distinctive aroma: perfume.

Peering down the short hallway and into the small living room, Bouguereau saw a figure, with her back to him, sitting in a lounge chair, drinking a beverage and gazing out at the balcony of the boathouse. Ash was standing outside next to the water slide that extended from the balcony down to the lake water.

Bouguereau entered the living room, not bothering to conceal his presence any longer and said, “
Bonjour, Mademoiselle
Brady. The jig, as they say, is up. I am arresting you on the charge of kidnapping Miss Ashley Richardson. Please, Miss Brady, stand up so I may read you your rights and handcuff you.”

Tisha Brady sipped her drink, sighed loudly and remaining seated said, “No, Boogs, I don’t think so.”

Chapter 22- The Fourth Quarter

“Tony?” Judd said as they were jogging off the field after the two-point conversion.

“Yeah, Judd. What is it?”

“Why isn’t Ash cheerleadin’? I haven’t seen her for the whole game.”

“She isn’t here.”

“She ain’t here? Where is she? She ain’t sick, is she?”

“Nobody can find her. She’s disappeared. The police are out looking for her now.”

“What!” roared Judd as he stopped in midfield, spreading his arms open and looking at Tony in disbelief.

“We have to go look for her right now!”

Tony came to a halt and walked back to Judd explaining, “I’ve already talked to Detective Bouguereau about what I think happened. He should find her before the end of the game, if I’m right.”

Judd’s eyes grew larger and he got a faraway look as he argued, “Yeah, but what if he doesn’t find her? What if she’s in danger and we coulda helped? We gotta go now!”

Tony felt like slapping Judd’s helmet to snap him out of his emotional hysteria, but instead he grabbed Judd’s face mask, pulled it down to his level and barked, “We gotta let the police do their job! If we go out there running around and getting in their way, we may make things worse. You don’t want to make things worse for Ash, do you? Huh?”

Judd thought for a moment and answered, “No, I wouldn’t want that. But, we gotta do somethin’. I can’t play knowin’ my friend might not be okay!”

“Look, I know her well, if there is one thing Ash would want right now, that would be for us to beat the living tar out of the Lakeside Lions. We can’t beat them unless you play and play well.” Tony stared into Judd’s face to see if he was connecting with him.

Smacking Tony’s hand away from his face mask, Judd straightened up, looked Tony in the eye and said, “All right, there’s another quarter left to play. We’ll beat the pants off this team for Ash! But if the police ain’t found her by the end of the game, we’re gonna help them! Deal?” Judd held out his hand to Tony in a high five.

“Deal!” Tony slapped Judd’s hand in agreement and they jogged over to the sideline where they awaited Coach Tiny’s instructions for the kickoff to begin the fourth quarter of play.

“What do think? Onside kick or let it fly?” Smilin’ Bob asked Dunwoody as they watched the two head coaches huddle with their teams.

“Hah, Tiny has got to go for an onside kick. He’s been pulling rabbits out of his hat since he got down 21 to zip.” Dunwoody had put a fresh toothpick into the corner of his mouth and it was bobbing up and down the whole time he was talking.

“Methinks he’ll let it fly. Buy me a soda if I’m right?”

Dunwoody glanced at Smilin’ Bob and grunted, “Hah, I’ll buy you a soda and a hot dog. That coach is desperate to get the ball back. Let’s make this more interesting. If it’s an onside, you buy me a soda, a dog and a bag of chips and I’ll do the same if they kick it deep.”

Smilin’ Bob did what he does best, he smiled at Dunwoody and said, “You’re on!” He then flicked the “on” switch to his microphone and announced in his radio voice, “Tim Crossman to kickoff for the Bobcats to start the fourth quarter. Matt Bishop deep to receive. Lions in the lead, 21 to 16.”

“Listen up! We’re gonna do an onside kick—”

Tony pulled on Coach Tiny’s arm interrupting him and whispering into his ear, “Coach, Judd’s really fired up. I think he’ll cover a deep kick much better than a short one.” Coach Tiny pondered on that for a moment and shouted, “Forget what I just said. Deep kick. Tim kick that ball high and deep, you hear?”

“Yes, sir!”

Once again, the Lions put two blockers on Judd and when Tim Crossman’s kick sailed high and deep to the twenty-five yard line, the two blockers moved in unison toward Judd. Lowering his shoulders and raising his forearms up to his chest, Judd plowed into them, knocking them out of the way like bowling pins. He sprinted down the field, ahead of all the other Bobcats by two strides. Matt Bishop caught the ball, saw Judd in front of him, tried to juke, but Judd stuck his right arm out and caught the top of Matt’s shoulder pads. As his energy propelled him past Matt, Judd held on to Matt’s jersey, spun him around like a top and Matt was downed on his twenty-three yard line.

“I want mustard, ridges and a cola. Make it quick, the concession stand is about to close!”

“What?”

“I want mustard on my hot dog, ridges on my chips and a cola.”

Dunwoody put his hands up to his forehead and whimpered, “Aw, no. I completely forgot about that lousy bet.” Pounding both hands on the table, Dunwoody looked out at the field and groused, “Hah! Any other coach would have gone for the onside kick. What’s the matter with him?”

Smilin’ Bob laughed and said, “You’re not as smart as you think. Now, go! I’m hungry!” Turning back to the field and feeling that the tide was turning for the Bobcats, Smilin’ Bob put some extra oomph into his announcement to the fans, “Tackle made by Judd Judson-n-n-n!”

Judd’s tackle also brought the crowd back into the game. The short intermission between the third and fourth quarters had quieted them down somewhat, but a few of the parents began chanting the “We ain’t giving up” cheer and it spread throughout the Bobcats’ crowd and the noise level rose in intensity.

Coach Chuck, reluctant to make a mistake this deep in his territory and with a five point lead, decided to play conservative in an attempt to chew up the clock. Three times Matt Bishop ran the ball up the gut of the Bobcats’ defense and three times Judd plugged the hole and stopped him with no gain in yardage. With less than four minutes left in the game and in a fourth down and ten situation on their own twenty-three yard line, Coach Chuck called a time out to settle his team down and go over their punt-team blocking schemes.

The Bobcats’ fans sensing what Coach Tiny is about to do, stop chanting the “We ain’t giving up!” cheer, stand up and segue into the “Block that kick! Block that kick!” chant.

“Okay. The fans are right. We are going to block that kick! Here’s how we’re gonna do it.” Coach Tiny held up his dry-erase board, diagrammed the formation and said, “Judd, I want you to the left of the center, Tony right behind Judd, everybody else on the line of scrimmage, except for Nick. Judd, they are no doubt gonna double or triple-team you again. Tony, that should open a gap for you to slip through. Everybody else, you gotta go hard and get through your blocks. Everyone has a chance to block this kick! Let’s do it! Let’s go!”

“What’s this?” Smilin’ Bob looked down at the food Dunwoody threw in front of him.

“Whaddya mean?” Dunwoody pointed at each item. “That’s a dog, that’s a bag of chips and that’s a soda. You’re welcome.”

“Wait a minute, there’s ketchup on this dog, I
hate
ketchup! And these chips!” Smilin’ Bob glanced into the opened, crinkled bag. “Half of these chips are gone! Plus, they’re the regular, run-of-the-mill chips, not ridged! These are awful.” He took a sip of his soda and nearly spit it out of his mouth. “Ugh! This is root beer!”

Dunwoody put his hand over his heart and in a voice dripping with sarcasm said, “Gosh, Bob, did I mess that order up or what? I am really, really,
really
sorry. Lemme go get you the right stuff.” Dunwoody snapped his fingers, slapped his forehead and said, “Oh, I just remembered. They closed down after that order. What rotten luck. What dirty, rotten luck.” Dunwoody grabbed the food from in front of Smilin’ Bob, slid it in front of him, chomped on the hot dog, grinned and said, “My momma always told me never to let food go to waste. Mmm, mmm. That’s a tasty dog!”

“You are a certified, grade-a, number-one knucklehead. You know that, Dunwoody?”

Not being able to talk with so much food in his mouth, Dunwoody pointed to the field and grunted. Surprised that the teams had taken the field and the referee was about to signal the start of play, Smilin’ Bob grabbed his microphone and announced in a not-so-smooth voice, “Nathan Marley set to punt for the Lions with Nick Miller of the Bobcats to receive.”

Coach Tiny was right, Judd was double-teamed and that opened a gap for Tony to come through. Coach Chuck, however, was ready for this and collapsed another blocker on that gap stuffing Tony at the line. David Scott broke through the line and had the Lions’ punter in his sights but was pushed out of the way at the last second. Nathan Marley, the punter, probably from adrenaline or blind luck, punted the ball thirty yards through the air. Nick Miller, with no blockers holding up the Lions’ punt team, decided not to attempt a fair catch and let the ball go. The football took a Lions bounce and trickled down to the Bobcat’s forty- yard line with two minutes and forty-five seconds left in the game.

To conserve their last timeout, Tony ran over to the sideline and Coach Tiny whispered into his ear. Back in the huddle, he explained to the rest of the Bobcats, “Coach thinks the Lions will be looking for the pass, so we’re gonna run instead. Remember, we are almost out of time, so step out of bounds if you can’t get easy yardage. Here we go, power sweep to the right.” Tony bent down and drew the play in the grass. “Judd you line up here, I’ll turn and toss the ball to you. Wait for your blocks to develop, then go! Hike on two. Hike on two. Break!”

As Tony came up to the line of scrimmage, he saw the Lions’ cornerbacks lined up deep to shut down the pass. Good, he thought, we should get a first down or more.

He crouched behind his center and barked out the signals, “Ready! Set! Hut! Hut!”

Tony reverse pivoted and tossed the ball to Judd. He ran laterally and at half-speed to let the left guard and Nick create a blocking wall for him. As soon they pulled in front of him, he cut up the field and fell in back of them, waiting for the right time to go full speed. The Lion’s middle linebacker blitzed on the play, rushing the gap left behind by the pulling left guard, pursued down the line of scrimmage, quickly caught up with Judd and tripped him up from behind for a gain of five yards.

Two minutes and five seconds left in the game and the clock is running.

“Huddle up! Huddle up! Let’s go! We don’t have much time!” Tony yelled and waved his arms frantically to the other Bobcats. “Okay, next play is also a run, a left sweep in a way. Judd, you line up at tight end on the right side and run a post pattern to end zone. Nick, I’m gonna fake a pass to Judd, hand it off to you and run to the left for as much as you can get, then get out of bounds. Everybody else block like it’s a pass play. Got it? Hike on one! Hike on one! Break!”