“Coach, this jersey has been stored in your—”
“Because the family allowed us to store it.”
Silence.
Brennan extended one hand.
“Give it to me.”
Mercer hesitated.
A terrible mistake.
Not legally.
Humanly.
Coach Brennan’s face hardened.
“Officer Mercer.”
Mercer handed it over.
Brennan immediately turned to Jordan.
“You okay?”
Jordan looked away.
“Yes.”
“No.”
The coach sighed.
“Right.”
Mercer cleared his throat.
“I was responding to a report of someone around the equipment entrance.”
Coach Brennan looked toward the stadium.
“Who reported it?”
“Anonymous caller.”
“Description?”
Mercer stopped.
Brennan waited.
“Male.”
Jordan laughed again.
The coach looked toward the officer.
“Anything else?”
“Dark clothing.”
Jordan looked down at his white-sleeved varsity jacket.
Brennan’s jaw tightened.
Mercer said:
“We've had equipment stolen recently.”
“Yes.”
The coach nodded.
“Two helmets.”
“Three practice jerseys.”
“Both incidents happened after evening workouts.”
“The suspects were caught on camera.”
Mercer looked at him.
“You know that?”
“I run the football program.”
“What did they look like?”
Mercer’s face changed.
Brennan answered his own question.
“Two white men in their twenties.”
Jordan stared at the officer.
Mercer looked toward his body camera.
Then back to Brennan.
“Dispatch didn’t give me that.”
“Then you ask.”
“I did.”
“You asked Jordan.”
“Yes.”
“And when he told you I gave him the jersey?”
“I needed verification.”
Brennan nodded.
“That part I understand.”
Jordan looked at him.
The coach continued:
“What I do not understand is why verification became you holding his dead brother’s jersey and talking about a twelve-year-old rumor.”
Officer Mercer’s face reddened.
“I didn't know the full circumstances.”
“No.”
Brennan looked at the jersey.
“That is becoming a theme around number 32.”
Jordan looked at him.
Mercer stiffened.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Coach Brennan took a breath.
“Tonight the school is correcting the record on Malik Shepard.”
The officer went still.
Jordan had known.
Hearing it aloud still hit differently.
Mercer stared.
“What?”
“The school board concluded the theft allegation against Malik was unsupported.”
“That’s not what people said.”
Brennan’s eyes hardened.
“What people said is precisely the problem.”
Silence.
Mercer looked toward Jordan.
For the first time, the officer seemed to see somebody younger than the story.
“How old are you?”
“Seventeen.”
“You were…”
“Five.”
Jordan answered.
“When Malik played.”
Mercer looked toward the jersey.
“I didn't know.”
Jordan stared.
“You still took it.”
The officer opened his mouth.
No answer.