“Huh? Oh, I was just inside the house, shaking the dew off the vine; saw this ball in the game room there and thought I’d bring it out for the boys. Thought maybe if we cranked up the flood lights, the boys could shake out the cobwebs with a little pickup game.”

Savannah gripped Cole’s arm hard. “Maybe it would be a good time to take a break from the meal, wouldn’t you say, Logan?”

Picking up on her meaning, Cole looked back at the players. Dale Kelsey, tight end, had licked his plate clean and was now gnawing on one of his shoes. Two seats down, Shane Butler was biting into a plastic pepper shaker. “Uh, yeah. Maybe a little football is just what they need. May I, Mr. Musgrove?”

Cleatus handed over the ball. “Be my guest.”

Cole held it high overhead. “Hey, fellas . . .” The players’ heads came up at the sound of their master’s voice. “Fumble!”

The Jackrabbits peered at the ball with fiery eyes. Cole stepped back and heaved it through the air. It sailed some thirty yards over the pool area before landing in the middle of the leaf-strewn lawn beyond.

The Jackrabbits pounced immediately.

Chairs and tables flew in the mad stampede. The crowd parted to make way as several players tried to run across the pool cover, only to find themselves churning through frigid, shoulder-deep water to get to the other side. Food tables were trampled in an explosion of chips and spreads. Beans rained down like hailstones on the pool deck. Snapped tiki torches sent sparks flying.

It wasn’t clear who fell on the ball first, given the darkness and how quickly the bodies stacked on top of it, but the impressive display was met with rousing applause from the crowd.

Cleatus Musgrove wrapped an arm around Cole’s shoulder. “Looks like we’ve got our boys back, Logan. I’d say they’re gonna be just fine.”

CHAPTER 33

GO ahead and say it.”

“Say what, Logan?”

“That you have a problem with what we just did.”

Savannah started the car and headed up the Blunts’ driveway toward the property exit. “I don’t have a problem with it. It just seems a little … inhumane.”

“Inhumane?” Cole waved her off. “Don’t worry. Long as Willard doesn’t wander off, he’ll be fine.”

“Cole, he’s your teammate. You just left him propped up on a porch swing in the cold.”

“Well, the view’s nice.”

“You think this is funny?”