Page 46 of Legends Luke

“Thanks.” Twisting off the lid, Luke tilted the plastic bottle up and gulped the icy liquid until he felt a prickling in his scalp signaling the beginning of brain freeze. He swiped the cold bottle across his sweaty brow.

Jackson had already finished off his water and pulled a second from the cooler. He dropped the tailgate and sat on the end with his feet resting against the ground. Luke joined him, and they stared across the quiet parking lot for several minutes. Luke had the sensation of being off the grid with no contact with the outside world and no one knowing where he was. The heady feeling of being invisible made him want to linger.

But they couldn’t. Jackson had the bar, his wife, and his son to get back to. Luke had his own mess of a life calling his name. As he was about to suggest they leave, Jackson stood, tossed his empty bottle into the truck bed, and pulled a football from the toolbox.

“Come on.”

Jackson didn’t wait for Luke to answer. He tossed the football up in the air as he walked onto the football field. They learned the trick of opening the lock on the fence when they were in high school. Luke was surprised the coaches who had come along since their graduation had not forked over the money for a new lock.

Once they were a reasonable distance apart, they started tossing the football back and forth. It transported Luke back to when he first met his brother. They were both on the football team, and Luke hadshown up to practice sporting a black eye courtesy of his father. His classmates already kept their distance from him, which he couldn’t blame them considering how angry and sullen he’d been. Jackson sat across from him at lunch that day. He never introduced himself. He didn’t have to. Jackson was an athletic legend at school.

They spent the lunch period talking about plays and upcoming games. Luke appreciated that Jackson never asked about the black eye. He suspected Jackson already knew. It’s not like his rough home life was a big secret, but it wasn’t something he talked about with many people, especially his teammates. He’d heard rumors that Jackson also lived in an abusive home at one time, so Jackson probably knew the signs.

Jackson had started inviting Luke to stay after practice. They had tossed the football back and forth, not really saying much. Neither had wanted to go home, so they gave each other a reason not to.

The only sounds surrounding them now were the occasional vehicle passing by the school, a random woodpecker attacking a nearby tree, and the slap of pigskin against their palms. After the third pass, Jackson lifted his chin in his brother’s direction as if to nudge him.

“Spill.”

Luke didn’t miss a beat in returning the pass to Jackson. “About what?”

“You’ve got a bug up your ass. That’s why you’ve been hiding in your office at the garage. You won’t get over it until you spit it out.”

Luke shook his head as he released the ball. “Don’t do this.”

“Do what?” Jackson demanded.

“Act like my shrink or something. I’m not going to stand here and talk through my feelings. I don’t do that shit, and you know it.”

Jackson caught the ball and held it for a moment. “This is exactly what we do. When there’s something about a case that bugs us, we talk it through. When we’re on a mission, we brainstorm for every contingency until we’ve come up with Plan A, B, C, and D. So, if it’s Melody, or Easton, or Ben, or me, or something else, get it out. Talk it through.”

Luke scowled. “If you must know, part of it is a case.”

“You’re talking about the robbery crew.”

Jackson didn’t voice it as a question, but Luke nodded anyway. “Yeah.”

“Have there been any developments?”

Luke released something that sounded like a cross between a sigh and a growl. “Not unless you count them escalating. They struck again last night, and this time they added murder to their rap sheet. They’re getting bolder and more dangerous, and we’re no closer to catching them than when this all started.”

“This isn’t the first time we’ve helped with a case which took us a while to solve. You sure it’s the case you’re worked up over?”

Luke glared. “Kiss my ass, Jackson. I’m worked up because we’re dealing with a bunch of kids. Delinquents. They’re probably high school dropouts, but they have somehow managed to evade law enforcement. They’ve gone all this time without anyone findingout who they are or what their next target is. Their victims are random. Nothing connects them. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Know what bugs me?” Jackson put a perfect spin to the football, and it sailed straight into his brother’s hands.

“Does it matter? You’re going to tell me whether I want to know or not, aren’t you?”

“If we are dealing with kids, they didn’t just wake up one day and become expert criminals.”

Luke stopped mid-throw, contemplating his brother’s words. “So, you think…”

“They had to learn how to pull it off from someone. It makes sense that the person would be older and probably have a record. Hell, these delinquents you’re talking about probably have a record.”

“We already knew that, but it’s not gotten us any closer to finding them.”

“We knew some of them had more experience than the others. We knew the more experienced were using petty crimes to train the others. But who trained the pros?”

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