The Black Knight Squash Fiction League Match

The Quill Shots CHAPTER TEN

Chapter 10

by Mick Joint

“Crazy” – Seal

If all were there when we first took the pill

Then maybe then maybe then maybe then maybe

Miracles will happen as we speak

But we're never gonna survive unless

We get a little crazy

No we're never gonna survive unless

We are a little

Crazy

BRUISES AND NOTES

“Chris! CHRISTIAN,” Julian yelled, waving from the parking lot, “Where’re you going? We have a lesson!”

“Oh, um, yeah. . .Sure. Let me grab my -- I need to borrow a racquet. I’ve, uh, misplaced mine,” Chris answered, feeling frustrated. Nick and Sadie would have to wait.

Wielding one of Julian’s spare sticks, Chris’s warm-up was less than stellar. He barely concealed his distraction, as he mishit more shots than what he could connect cleanly. After spraying a simple forehand drive for the umpteenth time, Julian too, was exasperated.

“Early racquet preparation,” Julian’s voice rose, “You’re not watching! When you’re on the ‘T’, you have to look behind you! Otherwise, you lose your reaction time.”

When five more minutes passed without improvement, Julian changed to a milder tactic, “Okay, this is getting us nowhere. Let’s just play some points, and sweat it out a little. Deal?”

Christian agreed. His heart rate was already racing, and not because of the drills. To Christian’s already overloaded-under-medicated brain, Julian’s coaching was like a knife in his head; he wanted to either rip his ears off, or tear Super Coach’s tongue out.

The two played as one would expect a squash professional to dominate a rookie club player. Julian controlled the rallies with ease; to Christian’s credit, he ran his lungs to bursting point, welcoming the mindless scampering, that helped clear his mind. He didn’t have to think about technique or footwork (with the pressure he was under, he couldn’t optimally perform anyway). As time wound down, Christian couldn’t resist taking one cheap shot. He reviled Julian; he was spending too much time with Bethany.

Purposely turning on a rain-making-crosscourt-lob, one that happened to bounce off the back wall just enough, Christian lined Julian up. Then, moments before hitting the ball with all the power his not-so-refined swing could muster, Christian looked Julian directly in the eyes, smirked, and drilled him.

“Sorry,” Chris sneered. It was the most insincere apology ever muttered.

“What the --” was all Julian could say, as he watched the skin on the back of his knee immediately turn into a purple ring around a white center. The stinging pain was nearly unbearable. After momentarily limping around, Julian snapped, “We’re done,” and stalked off.

As Julian exited the arena, Christian felt brighter, in better control of his mental faculties. Julian had made his shit-list, so Chris had made a statement. He headed for the locker room for a long, hot, well-deserved shower.

_______

Bethany winced, as Julian stomped into his office, flicking his racquet, fiercely, into the corner. “What a complete asshole!”

The ball mark was impossible to miss. “Christian did that?” Bethany gasped incredulously, as she jumped up to grab ice from the mini-fridge.

“You betcha, Bee. On purpose too! After I make time to give him a lesson? He smiled at me, as he hit it. Smiled. That guy is a psycho. What the Hell is his problem?”

“I wish I knew. You poor baby...” Bethany set a towel of ice on Julian’s bruise.

“Ow! Dammit!” Julian jerked away.

“Sorry, but you know you need to ice it. Suck it up,” Bethany said, replacing the ice, “Listen, Christian’s creeping me out, too. He may be stalking me; he calls and texts - a lot. You saw how territorial he was at my dinner party. He makes me nervous, even scared. I made excuses not to run with him this week.”

“Good! This escapade isn’t exactly a ringing endorsement. We’d better keep our heads up. We don’t need an unpredictable scumbag hanging out here, especially around Sadie. And, no way should you run with him.” Julian looked at his newly acquired war wound with disgust. “Damn, he still has my racquet...”

ญญ_______

Nick and Sadie returned from Starbucks, each sporting half-full Frappuccinos, and guilty leers, suggesting they’d been up to no good.

“I have to take a leak,” said Nick. “This stuff goes through you quicker than a Miguel Rodriguez court sprint.”

Sadie stopped Nick just outside the men’s locker room doorway, whispering, “Thanks for braving Starbucks for me. I know it’s not your favorite,” and she leaned in, kissing him, lightly, on the mouth.

Nick licked his lips, “Vanilla. Mmmm, it’s growing on me.”

Sadie’s face grew somber. Still half-whispering, she said, “We have to decide what to do with the gun. We can’t keep it here; we have to get rid of it. Now.”

“I know! Tonight. When everyone’s gone. You have a key. Besides, it’s not like I can’t let myself in,” Nick chuckled mischievously, “I’ve got some ideas where to dump it. Back in my Squad days, we ditched incriminating stuff all the time.”

“I don’t want to know. But, yeah, we’ll meet here at 11.” She quickly kissed him again, and went to find Julian.

_____

Lurking behind the door to the men’s locker room, Christian breathed silently. When he heard the kids outside, he didn’t want to witness their oh-so-precious raging hormones moment. But, their conversation promptly turned intriguing. Very intriguing. He had heard every single word.

_____

Detective Chen rapped his knuckles on the door frame of Julian’s office. Startled, Julian and Bethany looked up, simultaneously, visibly surprised at the presence of a police officer, flashing his badge.

“Mr. Allesandro? I’m Detective Chen. May I come in? I have a few questions regarding a current homicide.”

“Did you say homicide? Murder? What? Whoah, why are you... here?” Julian sounded perplexed, “What does a murder have to do with us?”

“Perhaps nothing. I’m investigating some loose ends,” Chen said, as he scanned the office. “Ma’am.” He nodded at Bethany.

Chen had never been inside of a squash club, or even heard of squash before today. He picked up the racquet that Julian had tossed in the corner. “So, this is a squash racquet, eh?” He examined it closely. “Lighter than I expected. Oh, it’s cracked.” He looked questioningly at Julian.

“It happens,” Julian snapped nervously, “Why are you here,” Julian repeated.

“We found a body on the beach, yesterday. Shot, point blank. Messy. No I.D. He didn’t have a wallet or keys.”

“O-kaaay.” Julian was even more confused, “So, to help your investigation, you wander into my squash club here to learn a new sport?”

“Julian,” Bethany gently placed a warning hand upon his arm.

“Hardly,” Chen continued, “ Since John Doe isn’t talking, due to the fact half his chest is missing, we had to rely on our investigative skills. We turned up some hand-written notes in his pocket. We presume its Mr. Doe’s hand-writing. Most of it disintegrated or was illegible; his day-long ocean swim made sure of that. However, from what we could decipher, it had several names on it. One was ‘Smash Courts,’” Detective Chen stared avidly at Julian, “Any idea why a murdered guy would have the name of your establishment on his person?”

“I have... no... idea,” Julian answered slowly, “Hey! Maybe he was a member here. Whats’ the other name on the note?”

Chen contemplated withholding that information. Experience told him to keep an Ace up his sleeve, but with all other leads growing cold, he decided he had nothing to lose.

He shrugged. “Just some women’s name: Bethany”.