OVERTIME

Chapter 13
   
   I had just taken a sip of my frozen lime margarita when my cell phone rang. The salt rimmed glass stung my chapped and cracking lips. I really didn’t want to answer my phone. I really liked margaritas, and Pappasitos made one of the best in Austin.
   I had arranged to leave school early and meet my wife for ‘dinner and drinks.’ It had been a challenging week at Reagan High School, and I wanted a little relaxation. I didn’t have an eighth period class and I didn’t have any papers to finish grading. I grabbed my bag and headed for the parking lot. It was a Friday, and it was hot. The steering wheel burned my fingers as I started the engine.
   My cell phone continued to vibrate as it moved ever so slightly on the table. ‘Incoming call, incoming call,’ echoed my cell phone.
   “Are you going to get it,” asked my wife.
   “What?” I said.
   “Your phone,” she said. “Are you going to answer it?”
   I really did not want to answer my phone, I just wanted to relax and enjoy a good meal. I better get it, I thought, it might be one of my players. I always prided myself in being available to my players. Hesitating, I flipped the phone open and answered.
   An excited voice immediately started talking.
   “Do you have any idea what just happened here?”
   “No,” I said.
   “You’re not going to believe this shit,” linebackers coach Brian Mattingly said. “Marcus (McTear) just killed his girlfriend.”
   “Oh my God,” I replied. “Where?”
   “At school man! You need to get down here.”
   Apparently, just after 4pm, Eve Daniels had been standing upstairs in the main walkway of Reagan’s New Mall. The New Mall was the newer of two school buildings that sported outdoor courtyards.  It was there that McTear approached her, allegedly armed with two large knives. He brutally stabbed her to death.
Autopsy report.
Eve was stabbed six times: once through the chest; piercing her heart, once through the back, piercing her left lung; once through the top of her skull, penetrating her brain; and once on either side of the head, each thrust entering her brain through the temporal lobe.

   I slid my glass away from me and towards my wife.
   “We have to go,” I quietly said.
   “What’s wrong?” Mandy said.
   “One of our players just killed somebody,” I said. “You’re going to need to get the check. I need to go.”
   I wandered out to my car and started the engine. The Mustang’s engine started with a loud purr, I immediately turned the air conditioner on. The cold air hit me like a ton of bricks. I paused and looked at my watch, it was 4:44. I turned off the engine and headed back to the restaurant.
   I quickened my step; Mandy had just paid the bill when we almost ran into each other as I entered the restaurant. The smell of refried beans and grilled chicken fajitas filled the air, but I had no appetite.
   “I need you to drive,” I said. “We’re going to leave my car here.”
   Quickly we piled into my wife’s 2000 Jeep Grand Cherokee. We were only about a mile away from Reagan. We were there in no time. As she parked her car, we both had noticed the small fleet of police cars that were in the parking lot.
   “Do you think it’s safe?” She asked.
   I didn’t respond.
   I thought to myself, is it ever?
   I turned and looked out the window, local news stations were setting up their cameras.