“You tell me, Logan. You’re the one with all the brilliant ideas. After all, our situation has improved so much since we crashed the party here.” She made no attempt to mask her sarcasm. “Here we are with only twenty-four hours left and your opponents are in jail, your coach is not interested, and may I remind you that you still have a man shackled up in his own barn?”

Cole had no grounds for argument. He stomped a foot in frustration. “Shit, we have to get to your dad. It’s the only way. If we can convince him to get behind this game, maybe he can convince Curtis. You think he went home from here?”

“My guess would be the school. He’s more comfortable in his office than at home.”

“We have to get over there.”

“Okay. But do you really want to let these guys out of your sight?”

“What choice do I have? I can’t kidnap them. At some point their parents are gonna have to take them away. At least they seem calm. Quiet, but calm. Hopefully their parents will just send them straight to bed. We’ll have to pray they don’t act weird.”

“I wouldn’t count on that, Logan.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, for one thing your tailback is shoveling fistfuls of meat into his mouth.”

“Yeah? So? They’re all doing that.”

Her eyes came up. “Cole, he’s eating it blood raw.”

Cole spun around. O’Dell Lamar’s face was caked with red juice, his jaws working hard on a mouthful of uncooked ground meat. The players on either side of him were digging fistfuls of crimson mush out of a plastic tube, clawing for their share. O’Dell was fending them off with angry grunts and elbow jabs.

“Shit!” Cole looked around in panic. The parents were still by the pool, and Farley Butler was hidden behind a cloud of smoke at the grill. Cole ripped the tube of meat from O’Dell’s hands and gave the tailback a hard whack on the head. “What the hell’s the matter with you?”

O’Dell just looked at him, grunted, and went back to eating the cooked burgers.

“I think it’s time to get them away from the food,” Savannah said.

“There’s that hotshot QB!”

Cole turned. Cleatus Musgrove stepped up to him, lit a Merit, and stuck out his hand.

Cole shook it. “Mr. Musgrove.”

“How goes it, son?” Cleatus pointed to the mess in Cole’s hands. “Gonna toss another couple patties on the fire there, eh?”

“Uh, yes, sir. Thought I would.” Cole introduced Savannah.

“Oh, I know who this little lady is. Say, we gonna get your daddy’s head turned around on this Elmwood Heights deal or what?”

Before Savannah could answer, Cole indicated the football tucked under Cleatus’s arm. “Where’d you get that, sir?”