Chapter 3: Walk Like The Man

Thursday January 26
The gang was all together at lunch, every one of them wearing sunglasses. I looked around, perplexed. Then Phil’s girlfriend, Jill, fanned her face dramatically and exclaimed with a fake Southern drawl, “Ah do declare, we are in the presence of a movie star!”

Everybody started laughing and talking at once, but I had my own agenda.

“Can it, everyone. The odds are high that I won’t get an award. Instead, for the privilege of not getting an award, I’ll probably get to take redeye flights, dress up in an uncomfortable monkey suit, and eat rubber chicken. Could we pleeeeze talk about anything else?”

Gina just shrugged and started giving Phil grief about being whipped. Phil’s girlfriend, Jill, looked like she was in college because she’d developed early. And Lord, how she’d developed. I could totally see why Phil would be whipped. If I was dating her, I might be too. I decided to save my little brother since I’d sort of caused this.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and brought up Lila’s number, unable to avoid the fond memories I had of the older sister I’d hooked up with in Cincinnati.

“Are there rules for when you should text a girl?”

I vaguely remembered we’d discussed this at some point. I might have laid down the rules at the time.

“Three days unless it’s for a hookup, then any time after ten,” Wolf supplied.

Phil gave me a little smirk because he realized what I’d just done for him by grabbing the gang’s attention. Everyone at the table turned and looked at me. Cassidy giggled.

“Careful, Bad Girl,” I said, using Cassidy’s social-media handle. “Remember that what happens when you’re working security is like what happens in Vegas. You’re not allowed to talk about it.”

She crossed her arms and pouted. I pointed at Don.

“Distract your girlfriend before she does something rash, and I have to go see the trainers. Better yet, piss her off. I don’t think she’s reached her quota for hurting boys this week.”

Don leaned over and kissed her cheek. He was such an amateur. He needed to up his game if he was going to distract her. I turned back to Wolf.

“What if she’s both?” I asked.

“What do you mean?”

“If it’s been more than three days, and I want to hook up with her?” I asked.

“I think he’s back. Our David is working on being a slut again,” Gina chirped.

I saw Dare furiously smashing his thumbs on his phone’s screen. I’d warned him earlier this week that I would block him again if he kept sending me messages. Then the phones of every girl at the table chirped, almost at once.

“Why, you little shit,” Pam said and showed me her phone.

‘u so want 2b in d’s thot club u thk he tks bout u.’

Attached was a photo of a t-shirt I would have to buy. It was orange with blue lettering, like our school colors, so it had the whole school-spirit bit going for it. The text said ‘Food For Thot,’ with an arrow pointing down towards your package.

“What does ‘thot’ mean?” Gina asked.

I busted out laughing.

“Let’s just say it’s a woman who has many casual sexual encounters or relationships,” Wolf said, being surprisingly sensitive.

Little Dare was too smart for his own good. All the girls turned and glared at him like he might officially be a ‘stupid boy.’

Mom had sent me a message from the hospital. She’d taken Mayor Duke with her so he could do his service dog job with the cancer patients. She let me know everything was under control as far as my attending the Academy Awards. People were handling the arrangements for me so I wouldn’t have to worry about it until it was actually time to fly out there.

Mom then shared that Billy Felton, Lisa’s little brother, was back in the hospital. Mom said his cancer was back.

I hadn’t had time to make visits to the hospital in a while, so I used this as an excuse to go visit. I tried to devote my efforts toward the younger kids. Billy had been one of the first I’d visited. He’d been a little badass, throwing a tantrum because he thought his parents were treating him like a baby. It had taken some effort, but I helped him see it from his parents’ point of view. They were worried sick about him and trying to protect him.

Billy was the reason Lisa Felton and I had become friends. I’d taken her across the street to the diner to get her mind off her little brother. That started its own drama when everyone assumed she and I were seeing each other on the side. My friends were mad at me because Lisa had a bad reputation, and they believed it was true. There were rumors that she had done some things that good girls didn’t do.

Turned out, Bill Rogers and his group of Neanderthals had started those rumors. This was the same Bill Rogers who’d messed up Tracy Dole. He and I’d had some memorable run-ins because he couldn’t get it through his thick head that Tracy wasn’t his personal punching bag to abuse and misuse. To this day, Tracy still had bouts of depression, and it all pointed back to the summer he’d bullied and brutalized her. If there was one guy in this world I actually wanted to kill, it was him.

Long story short, Lisa and I had flirted with getting together for a while. There are a handful of girls that just do it for you, and Lisa was one of those for me. She wasn’t the best-looking girl at school, but she might have been the sexiest. That was until Brook Davis showed up. I’ll just say that Lisa made me want to be a naughty boy.

The scary part was that when it did finally happen, the actual sex was better than the fantasy I’d built up in my mind. Lisa Felton and I clicked between the sheets so well that it frankly scared me a little. If I’d been more mature when it happened, we might have ended up being a couple. Everyone, and I mean everyone, actively told me that Lisa and I were a mistake, and I folded under the pressure like a house of cards in a stiff wind.

Looking back, that might be one of my greatest regrets.

Billy’s cancer had gotten me out of my head long enough to look at Lisa as more than the girl that got my motor running. Volunteering to spend time with cancer patients has a way of changing the focus of your thoughts from yourself to others. It allowed Lisa and me to take a step back and decide to be friends.

So, when I got my mom’s message that Billy was back in the hospital, a lot of old feelings rushed back. I liked the kid and wanted to go see him. I bailed on my instrument flight training class with Cassidy and talked Paul into going with me. Of course, we had to take the Demon, and I had to drive. I worried that Cassidy would kill me later when she found out that I’d taken it. I’d told her that there was probably salt on the road, and I didn’t want to worry about it rusting my baby’s undercarriage.

When I got to his room, I found Billy watching TV.

“David! I wondered if you’d come to see me. Your mother stopped by with Mayor Duke this morning, and I asked about you. She wanted me to remind you that you haven’t been to church,” Billy said.

Billy went to my church and was involved in the youth group there.

“I was away shooting a Japanese drama series. I planned to be back this Sunday.”

“Maybe I’ll get to see you there.”

“Does that mean you’re getting out?” I asked.

“Let’s hope. I came in for a follow-up, and they found the cancer was back. They caught it early, so they started me back up on the treatment that worked last time. They want me to stay for a couple of days to make sure there aren’t any complications. If my test results are good in the morning, I’m outta here,” Billy said.

I was relieved when I heard the news. We chatted for a while, and I invited him to a baseball game in the spring, after he got out.

I was starved, so I headed to the diner for some of their fried chicken and pie. From the restaurant’s entrance, through the window, I saw Joey Marshall sliding into a booth and getting a menu. I stood there like a stalker, watching her.

“We going in?” Paul asked.

“Go and grab a seat at the counter. Order what you want,” I told him.

Paul followed my gaze and shook his head. He went in, and Kim Sun, a former cheerleader at Lincoln High, waited on him.

Joey was my strength and conditioning coach and technically off-limits. In my head, I played the ‘what if’ game. What if I just walked away and did the right thing? What if I went in and sat down just to talk to her? The problem was, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. When I first met Joey, I didn’t know she worked for the high school. I admit I’d had impure thoughts. But I’d tried to push those aside because I wanted her help in getting me in shape to play ball this spring. I didn’t want my desire to get in the way of my success.

Playing the ‘what if’ game helped me feel like I could walk away if I needed to. I could just be friendly and stop by and say ‘Hi.’ What would be the harm in that? I watched her intently read the menu. She looked on edge. I wondered if she was always like that. When we worked out, she was utterly focused. I wondered if she ever had any fun.

I couldn’t just stand there and stare at her. Nor did I need to add anything that wasn’t professional to our relationship. I shifted and started to dig for the keys in my pocket, turning away. Then she did it. Joey reached up and ran her fingers through her hair.

That simple act reminded me that she was sexy as hell. Crud! I chuckled because she was my older version of Lisa Felton. I had a moment of clarity and realized I would burn in Hell for this.

I pushed through the door of the diner and found it filled with hospital staff. It was a weekday evening, so there were mostly nurses and doctors. Some glanced my way and smiled, but I ignored their looks and focused on my goal. I stopped behind her booth, but she was so engrossed in her menu that she didn’t notice me. But I knew it was just an act. I’d seen her glance up when I came in.

I slid into the seat across from her. She looked up, and I saw a flash of irritation touch her blue eyes.

“You need to leave. This doesn’t look right.”

“It’s just dinner, Joey. No big deal,” I said.

“David!”

Why did her saying my name make me think of her calling it out in passion? This was wrong. She was right, I shouldn’t be here with her.

“I should go,” I said, admitting defeat.

I started to slide out of the booth.

“David, wait.”

Joey reached over and touched my hand, and I froze. Mr. Happy picked that moment to come awake. If I got up right now, everyone would see what she did to me. Why did I have this desire for Joey? I had a feeling that she would be trouble, the kind I wasn’t really ready to tackle. I made a move to swallow my pride and run.

“Stop. Just stay,” Joey finally said.

I grinned and slid back into the booth. Kim appeared with her order pad.

“David Dawson, long time no see. Who’s your cute friend? Is she Brook Davis’s replacement?” she asked.

I rolled my eyes at her, which gave her a satisfied grin. She was busting my chops.

“This is Joey Marshall. Joey, this is a friend of mine, Kim Sun,” I said by way of introduction.

“Joey, this one is trouble,” Kim said.

“Who, me?” I asked innocently.

Joey shot Kim an exasperated look that said she agreed but considered me harmless. I hated to tell her, but I was anything but harmless. Kim took our order. Actually, she took Joey’s order and just assumed I was having the fried chicken. For a brief moment, I wondered if anything else on the menu was better. No way could that be true, so I let it go.

It had been ages since I’d been on a first date. I was counting this as a date because there was food and conversation that didn’t center on Joey torturing me. She had a degree in kinesiology, the study of human movement, from State. Her minor was dietetics, with an emphasis on sports and wellness nutrition. She’d interned with Coach Fletcher, and her job at Lincoln High was her first.

Joey had been in a long-term relationship with a tennis player at State. He’d gone pro after college and decided he didn’t want to keep it going long-distance. From the way she described it, I would bet she thought it was leading to more. I could see she wasn’t over him.

After hearing her story, I knew that she was in the same spot in her life as Scarlet and Ashley. Joey wasn’t looking for a no-strings romp. She wanted the happily ever after. In a lot of ways, that made her even more attractive to me. The problem was that I was just a couple of months away from leaving to film my movies. While I wasn’t opposed to having a little fun, or even a lot of fun, with Joey, I wasn’t going to push it. That didn’t mean I wasn’t interested in being her friend. I found I liked her.

“You should come over for dinner some night. I bet you could use a home-cooked meal.”

“I don’t think that would be a very good idea.”

“Why not? Coach Hope has been to my house several times for dinner. How would this be any different?” I asked and then waggled my eyebrows. “Unless you have inappropriate plans for me.”

“That’s not it,” she said quickly.

“If you ever do, just let me know,” I teased.

“I think we need to keep this professional,” she said firmly.

“No, I disagree,” I said, and could see her eyes flash again. “I think we can be more than professional. I think we can be friends.”

Joey blinked a couple of times as her brain caught up, and then she smiled.

“I’d like that,” she finally admitted.

“Great. We’ll talk next week and find a night you can come over,” I said and grabbed the check.

“I’ve got my dinner,” she protested at me buying hers.

“Leave the tip,” I suggested. “I enjoyed this.”

“It was unexpected. I think I’ll like you being my friend.”

“I’ll explain what that entails later,” I said, giving her a wicked grin.

“That’s what I’m afraid of. Thanks for dinner,” Joey said.

While I went to the cash register, she left. Paul was suddenly at my side and handed me his check. I was willing to pay since he gave me my space to talk to Joey. That, and I’d sort of already said I would.

When I got home, we loaded the car and drove to Indianapolis. The plan was to meet first thing in the morning with my team and then tackle the NCAA.

Friday January 27
“Mr. Morris, Ms. Addison, glad you could make it,” Dad said.

We’d booked a conference room at the hotel to use before we met with the NCAA later this morning. Mr. Morris, at first, wasn’t able to get us a meeting. I’d mentioned my talk with Coach Haber from Michigan, which led to Mr. Morris calling him and getting in contact with Jim Phelps, their athletic director. It just so happened that he was also a member of the NCAA Governance Committee. Through him, we finally got our meeting with Mark Ellison, the NCAA president.

“I see Ms. Dixon sent you with Mr. Morris. Did she worry about the FBI getting involved today?” I asked Maddie Addison.

“She wanted me in the room to prevent any trouble with them,” Ms. Addison explained.

“We don’t have much time. Do you mind if we get down to business?” Mr. Morris asked.

I smiled because you never saw a lawyer in a hurry. They billed by the hour.

“Please,” I said to turn the floor over to him.

“I just want to go over everything so we’re on the same page.”

“I agree. Please keep in mind that this is my life we’re talking about. If I say something in there, don’t take it the wrong way or try to talk over me,” I said.

We’d had an issue with Mr. Morris wanting to jump in when I didn’t need his help. I think he thought of me as a kid with zero experience. If it were about anyone else, I would agree with him.

“I’m sure we’re all on the same page,” Dad said to head off a confrontation before we even got started.

Mr. Morris gave me a slight nod and continued.

“What Stewart Chadwick is doing is extortion, using the legal definition. It is a crime in which one person forces another person to do something against their will. Extortion involves the victim’s consent to the crime, but that consent is obtained illegally.

“We have to be careful not to do the same when we bring this up to the NCAA leadership. If we demand that they agree to your eligibility and/or request for waivers, our actions could be viewed similarly. The line between negotiation from a position of strength and extortion might be a fine one,” Mr. Morris said.

“Can we even ask for what we want, then?” Dad asked.

I wanted three things out of this meeting: my eligibility restored, a waiver that allowed me to act in and promote my movies, and to protect my image. Oh, yeah, and a fourth: I also wanted to protect my friends.

“We can, but we can’t tie them together. We encourage the NCAA to do the right thing without conditions,” Mr. Morris explained.

“There is also the issue of consent when you recorded the conversations. California is one of the states where you must obtain permission from all participants. If you ever were to decide to sue the NCAA, you’ll have problems using some of the recordings,” Ms. Addison added.

“I would just release them to the press and let the court of public opinion deal with it,” I shot back.

“And you might never play ball in college,” Mr. Morris reminded me.

“To be honest, that might help me. I would either go into acting full-time or play baseball professionally.”

“Let’s get back on track,” Dad said.

“The last untethered balloon we have floating out there is the FBI. I know we don’t plan to tell the NCAA that they’re looking at this, but we need to be careful. Let’s be frank, the FBI only cares about its own interests. Individuals within the organization may feel some compassion, but they won’t buck their superiors if those superiors want certain things done, or want them done a certain way. They’re worse than Stewart in that they don’t care about you if you should get in the way of their investigation.

“If their actions end up causing collateral damage to your career, they might regret it for a millisecond, but no longer than that. The only limitation I can see is if the FBI feels its treatment of David would carry with it a significant possibility of bad publicity for the FBI. In that case, it might curb or alter its tactics,” Ms. Addison explained.

There was a knock at the door. Ms. Addison was closest, so she answered.

“Were your ears burning? We were just talking about the evils of the FBI,” she said to the man at the door. “This is Special Agent Bryn out of the Chicago FBI office. To what do we owe this pleasure?”

“A little birdie told me that you planned to storm the walls of the NCAA today. I was sent to ask that you cancel the meeting. Mind if I sit down and we discuss my concerns?” he asked while taking a seat without permission.

“Please, join us,” Dad said with raised eyebrows.

“Sorry, that was a little presumptuous. I know that you plan to talk to the NCAA higher-ups about the connection with Southwest Central State and Springbok. With an investigation ongoing, the FBI doesn’t want anything elevated to that level,” Special Agent Bryn shared.

“That means you found the connection?” I asked.

“I can’t discuss an ongoing investigation.”

I think everyone rolled their eyes at that one.

“I guess I’m not clear as to why you don’t want us to meet with the NCAA. To our knowledge, we’ve never made the connection as to where the money that David and his teammates received came from. We’re meeting with the NCAA because one of their investigators threatened David. He said that if David didn’t help with their investigation to entrap Southwest Central State, they would pull his eligibility,” Mr. Morris said.

“I hadn’t heard anything about that,” Special Agent Bryn admitted.

“Play him the recordings,” Ms. Addison directed me.

After they’d been played, Special Agent Bryn contemplated his position.

“I’m still inclined to order you to not have the meeting.”

“You were right. They don’t care about what happens to me,” I said without thinking.

“I take it from your comments that you still plan to meet with them, no matter what I say?” Special Agent Bryn asked.

“You’re damned right,” I said, not backing down.

“I would suggest that you advise your client what it means if we decide to level obstruction of justice charges against him,” he directed Ms. Addison.

The agent and I stared each other down across the table. Special Agent Bryn blinked first.

“We can’t have you sharing the videos with the NCAA and possibly the public. If that happens, I guarantee you will do jail time.”

“Instead of us tossing threats back and forth, why don’t you go with us to the NCAA meeting? We play the tape of Stewart’s threat, and you look menacing. If they reinstate our eligibility, I won’t have any reason to go public with what I have,” I said to show I wasn’t backing down.

“Is he serious? He’d risk jail time?” Special Agent Bryn asked Ms. Addison.

Dad jumped right in.

“First, I doubt you could get it to stick. My son has been forthcoming with the FBI throughout all this, and we have not mentioned the FBI to the NCAA at all, so the NCAA has no knowledge of the FBI’s involvement to this point. Nor, to our knowledge, does the NCAA have plans to disclose its investigation to Southwest Central State or to the shoe company, so I have no idea how the NCAA’s having knowledge of their minion’s attempted extortion would obstruct or jeopardize the FBI.”

“If anything, the FBI’s presence would make the NCAA more cautious regarding how it goes about its own investigation. Unless, of course, the FBI is also investigating the NCAA...” Dad said.

As he said that, Dad got a surprised look on his face. Now I knew where I got my acting gene from.

Special Agent Bryn’s look of disgust and the negative shake of his head were enough for me. I realized the FBI investigators didn’t wish to take on the NCAA if they didn’t have to. But they also didn’t want internal misconduct within the NCAA to screw their investigation up for them, either. The existence of the tapes made a big difference, I realized.

“All David is asking for is your help to make this right. If you do the right thing, and if the NCAA is convinced to do that as well, then you have nothing to worry about. But let’s say David gets pushed into a corner, and someone tries to force him to wreck his career and go somewhere that makes zero sense to anybody. In that case, what does he have to lose?” Dad asked.

“I agree, there’s no need for this pissing match,” Ms. Addison added. “You’re here anyway, why not make sure we don’t say anything we shouldn’t when we meet with them, and why not make sure they don’t do anything rash?”

He didn’t look happy, but eventually, he nodded and left to make a phone call.

“Maddie, would you happen to be the ‘little birdie’?” I asked once the door had closed.

“I’m so sorry. As it happens, I had a meeting at the FBI offices about another case and ran into Special Agent Bryn, and I mentioned that we had this meeting today. I had no idea he would show up. It was a total rookie mistake on my part,” she said, falling on her sword.

“I don’t know what to say. You potentially have put our client in a position where he could be facing obstruction charges. If this goes south on us...” Mr. Morris said.

“As the client,” I said to remind Mr. Morris that I was in the room, “I think it might have been a lucky break.”

“How can you say that? Personally, I think we may want to cancel the meeting,” Mr. Morris said, showing his worry.

I had a moment of clarity. If the FBI agent scared my sports attorney this bad, what would he do to the NCAA guys?

“He came in here to shut us down, but why? Think about the evidence. As far as we know, the FBI can’t show a direct link between the shoe company, the university, and/or me. It’s all just smoke and mirrors until they can prove it.”

“You heard him. He said that he couldn’t comment on an ongoing investigation. For all we know, they’ve uncovered the link,” Mr. Morris said.

Ms. Addison disagreed.

“They haven’t followed up with any inquiries to us at all. Usually, if they’re after someone, they do the initial interview, and then there are a bunch of follow-ups. At the very least, you would expect them to have pulled Wolf Tams and Tim Foresee in to make statements, especially if they’re that close to making their case.”

Some pieces of the puzzle came together for me.

“From what you’ve said, and from the way he’s acting, I don’t think we’re the main focus of whatever investigation the FBI is involved in. His primary focus is keeping this from going public and keeping it quiet. Still, the FBI doesn’t seem to be focused on going hard after Southwest Central State. There has to be something else going on that the FBI doesn’t want anyone to twig to. But at the same time, the FBI’s worried about either me or the NCAA going public with what we know.

“If that’s the case, he’ll want to do everything he can to keep a lid on this. All we have to do is convince him that the best way to keep it quiet is to attend the meeting with us. He can let the NCAA know that messing with my eligibility would be really bad for them, in the FBI’s view,” I said, looking Mr. Morris in the eye.

I glanced over at my dad, and he nodded his encouragement.

“How much do you trust Special Agent Bryn?” Dad asked Maddie.

“I trust him to do his job. I don’t trust him to be an advocate for David.”

“We need to convince him that our approach is the easiest way for him to do his job and accomplish his goals, then,” Dad said.

“I still think this is a mistake,” Mr. Morris said.

“Isn’t Indiana one of the states that requires only single-party consent for recordings?” I asked.

“You aren’t thinking of recording this meeting, are you?” Mr. Morris asked.

“I don’t think David should answer that,” Dad said.

There was a knock on the door, and Special Agent Bryn came back into the room. He sat down and looked around at each of us.

“I’ve just been on the phone with my superiors and have walked them through the situation. Given that you’re insistent on going through with this meeting, we’re going to go along with your suggestion. It seems to be the most straightforward way to keep everything out of the public eye.”

Then he looked straight at me.

“I hope for your sake, young man, that the FBI does not have cause to regret this.”

I tried hard not to breathe a big sigh of relief. I also fought hard not to smile over at Mr. Morris. Things were looking up!

From this little meeting, something became crystal clear to me: if you ever got into a serious fight, you didn’t bring only your sports attorney. I would have to remember that he was only there for navigating the NCAA and other sports-related matters, not fighting battles with the FBI.

My other thought was that what I’d always suspected was true. The FBI was way scarier than the NCAA. I just hoped that the NCAA believed that too.

Dad had privately volunteered to wear the bodycam for the meeting, and we hadn’t actually told our lawyers about it. He reasoned that the focus would be on me. I wanted the recording because I wasn’t in a very trusting mood. I was wary of both the NCAA and the FBI, and I didn’t want to be put in a situation where something wound up being forgotten or twisted.

When we were finally invited into the meeting to see the NCAA, you could tell that the tenor in the room was completely different from when I’d first visited them almost a year ago. I spotted the reason why when I saw that Stewart Chadwick was there, smiling grimly at me. I was willing to bet my Dodge Demon that he’d been in their ears, relating his side of the story.

In addition to Stewart, there were four others I’d met previously. Those four were Mark Ellison, NCAA President; Jim Phelps, Member of the Governance Committee and AD, University of Michigan; Jackie Davis, Chairman of the Initial Eligibility Waiver Committee; and Steve Anchorage, Chairman of the Amateurism Fact-Finding Committee. There was another man that I later learned was Mr. Chadwick’s boss, and who I’d not met before.

Mr. Ellison introduced everyone on his side.

“Normally, we let our investigative group handle something like this. It is out of courtesy to Mr. Morris that we are meeting with you. If he didn’t have such an outstanding reputation, and if he had not told us of the seriousness of the situation, we wouldn’t be here today,” he said.

“Thank you for seeing me. Before we get started, I want to introduce you to everyone on my side of the table. At the end is Rob Dawson, my father. Next to him is Mr. Morris, who helped arrange this meeting. Then there is Ms. Addison, my criminal attorney,” I said and glanced over at Stewart.

I was happy to see the little smirk on his face falter, just a touch. I paused for dramatic effect.

“Finally, I would like you to meet Special Agent Bryn of the FBI.”

From the looks across the table, I could see I’d just set a fox loose in the henhouse. The only one who didn’t seem intimidated, although he’d apparently been surprised, was Mr. Ellison. Then again, as NCAA president, he was well-connected and had taken the government on a number of times—and won.