Hog Heaven by Ben Rehder Read Free Book Online Page B

rest of these kids have heart like you wouldn’t believe, and I guarantee we’ll be right back here next year, and this time we’ll be taking the trophy home.”
    So far this season, that prediction did not look promising. The team had opened with two losses, followed by two narrow victories over teams they’d crushed last year. It was plain that the offense didn’t have anywhere near the same potency without Sammy in the backfield.
    That wasn’t good news for Milstead, and Marlin was about to make his Sunday afternoon even worse. The coach was washing his white Chevrolet truck when Marlin pulled into his driveway in Rancher’s Estates. Marlin didn’t beat around the bush, but instead got right to it and told Milstead the reason for his visit.
    The coach was visibly shaken. “You’re saying someone chased Sammy to his death?”
    Sometimes, during an investigation, it could prove useful to keep key details secret. But Marlin and Garza had agreed in the sheriff’s office that morning that it would likely be beneficial to publicly share what they had learned from the video on Sammy’s phone.
    “I’m afraid so,” Marlin said.
    “Who would do something like that?”
    “We don’t know.”
    “And why? That’s just so crazy.”
    “We’re working to find that out.”
    Milstead shook his head, obviously at a loss for words. Finally, he said, “It’s just... tragic.”
    Marlin said, “You mind if we go inside and talk for a few minutes?”

    “You are a smart young man,” Aleksandra said to the dumb young man across from her. His name was Colton Spillar. They were seated at a small dinette table in a kitchen that had last been updated in the early 1970s, judging from the wallpaper.
    She said, “You must weigh all options carefully. I understand that. But I am obligated to be honest with you. I believe the proper choice is transparent. OTU is the right place for yourself.”
    An hour and a half earlier, she had landed in Austin and driven the rental car—a black Cadillac DTS—west to Blanco County, to this boy’s home in the country. She knew that his father lived in California and that his mother worked on weekends at the Wal-Mart thirty minutes away. The mother had not taken time off to attend this informal meeting, which was not at all unusual. Aleksandra was no longer amazed by parents who did not participate in the recruitment process. To them, it was just football. But this boy’s future—his career—was at stake. And here he was, navigating these treacherous waters by himself, which was fortunate for Aleksandra, because it meant she would not have to create an excuse to meet with him again later, alone.
    Was this young man qualified to handle their upcoming conversation? Of course not. He was full of hormones that made it difficult for him to concentrate or even maintain a normal conversation. In many ways, he was still a boy, with braces and a face full of pimples, but he was in the process of becoming a man. He was as tall as Aleksandra, and he outweighed her by at least sixty kilograms. He was also sneaking looks at her cleavage at every opportunity.
    She said, “Seven times OTU wins the national championship. These other schools you are considering—can any of them assert the same success? Perhaps best of all, OTU needs a lineman such as yourself. I have seen the game tapes. You are enormously strong like ox. You have quick feet and accomplished hands. Also, you are gifted with intelligence. You have... instinct.”
    He was smiling self-consciously, enjoying the flattery and attention.
    Aleksandra said, “You will almost certainly start in your freshman season. You will be seen nationwide on the television. And what about your future, after college? The OTU staff is best in country. Surely this is acknowledged. You will learn and grow. By the time of your graduation, you will be prepared for a career in the National Football League.”
    Of course, she didn’t mention that his scholarship