Bake Sale Murder by Leslie Meier Read Free Book Online Page A

college?”
    “Boston University. A great sports school. I mean, I always loved football but when I got to BU I learned to love football.”
    “Did you play?”
    “Sadly, no. Just pick-up games with guys from the dorm.”
    “I’m not clear on this. Don’t coaches need some sort of certification?”
    “Not really. It’s the kind of thing you learn to do by doing. I started out helping out…oh, that was years ago. I’ve been coaching football for twenty years or more.” He looked at his watch. “Oops, sorry, but I’ve got a meeting with the principal and I’m late.”
    Lucy got to her feet. “I don’t want you to get in trouble, not when you’re just starting a new job.” She extended her hand. “Thanks for your time.”
    “No problem,” he said. “It was a pleasure. Let me see you out.”
    Lucy still had a million questions to ask, but there was no opportunity in the short walk from the guidance office to the front hall. All she really had time for was a quick request that he remember her to Bonnie before they parted at the main office. She hurried back to the Pennysaver office, wondering if Ted was still mellow from the brownies.
    He wasn’t. “Lucy, I’ve got a hole on page one and I need that story.”
    “I’m right on it,” said Lucy, tapping her head. “It’s all up here. I just have to type it up.”
    Lucy sat at her desk and booted up her computer, taking a moment to organize her thoughts. Then she was off and running, flipping through her notes and writing up Coach Buck’s ambitious plans. But when she looked for information about his previous experience all she was able to find was the fact that he’d attended Boston University. She was trying to make a follow-up phone call when Ted spoke up.
    “Are you done yet?”
    “It’s coming, it’s coming,” said Lucy, who was getting a busy signal. She put the phone down and dashed off the final paragraph of the story.
    “Great. Now I just need the Fin Com story.”
    “Nothing much happened. They just went through the Highway Department budget and didn’t change a thing.”
    “Make it short and sweet then.”
    Lucy smiled. “Aye, aye, sir.”

    Deadline was noon, which meant that Lucy got out of work earlier than usual on Wednesdays. She ran some errands and picked up some groceries, but she was still a half hour early when she drove over to the high school. She was surprised to discover practice was already over and Sara and Sassie were sitting on the ground, passing a water bottle between them, waiting for her.
    “So, girls, what do the players think about Coach Burkhart?” she asked, once they were buckled in and on the road. “I just interviewed him for the paper.”
    “He’s okay,” said Sassie.
    “Is he tough on the boys?”
    “What do you mean?” asked Sara.
    “Well, he seems to put a lot of emphasis on conditioning. That means drills and stuff, doesn’t it?”
    “I guess.”
    “They haven’t complained?”
    “Nah.”
    This was going nowhere, thought Lucy, and she knew from experience that it wasn’t going to get better. When teenagers didn’t want to talk, they didn’t. You could ask questions until you were red in the face but it didn’t do any good. They’d only open up when they were ready. She snorted. Good luck to Coach Buck with his open forums. She’d be amazed if he got anywhere with them. And even if they did seem to open up, chances were they’d just be putting him on, telling him what he wanted to hear.
    “So, what do you think of Brad and Angelina?” she asked. “Will their relationship last?”
    “I bet he really misses Jen,” said Sara.
    “Yeah. Angelina drags him all around Africa and makes him visit all those slums and refugee camps.” Sassie sighed. “That couldn’t be much fun.”
    Now this was a subject they had opinions about, thought Lucy, listening to the girls hash over the latest Hollywood gossip. They were still at it when she turned onto Prudence Path and into the