I draw in a shaky breath and clear the thoughts from my head. “It’s going to sound weird, but long story short, we tried to recruit him off an email you sent us almost six years ago. He never responded to us and then two weeks ago, we received a letter in the mail from him. A letter he mailed more than five years ago from a Forward Operating Base in the Helmand province of Afghanistan. Apparently, it’s been lost in the mail all this time and . . .”

“You expect me to believe that you’re coming to recruit a player from five, six years ago when he’s older now and there are new crops of athletes in your face every day?” He lifts his eyebrows. “C’mon now.”

“I never said I was going to recruit him. All I said was I was looking for him—”

“For what?” He raises his voice, and I shake my head to deny the accusation in his voice.

“To tell him we got it. To see where he is and what he’s doing and maybe highlight his plight somehow—”

“Come to think of it, I didn’t see you present anything proving you are who you say you are.”

“Oh. Yes.” I’m flustered—when I’m never flustered—as I reach into my purse and produce a business card. He takes it and stares at it for a beat. “You can call the number to verify I am who I say I am.”

He turns the card over and over in his hand. It appears he’s grappling with something unbeknownst to me. “Why do you want to find Ryan?”

“I don’t have a direct answer for you on that,” I fib. “But something is telling me I need to follow up with him.”

When Coach Bassett looks up to meet my eyes, his lips are pursed and his stare’s relentless. “So let me guess, you’re looking to recruit a ‘war hero’ and gain media attention for yourself in the meantime? The spotlight’s that irresistible? You agents are all the same. Every time I think it’d be different, one of you go and prove me wrong.”

“Excuse me?”

He emits a short laugh. “I know I’m not a big-shot agent or anything, but I’m astute enough to know you’re not telling me the whole story. Five, six years ago everyone wanted something from him but damn, it’s amazing how quick they forgot about him once they got what they wanted.”

My head spins with the information he’s providing but isn’t clarifying. He’s adding pieces to a puzzle I don’t even know the picture of to solve.

“I’m sorry, but again, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“And yet, you’re still looking for him?” Sarcasm laces his tone and I shake my head ever so slightly as I try to understand.