Chapter 17 - The Anonymous Email
Jordan’s first fear was simple.
The scholarship was gone.
Coach Reed shut the office door.
“Sit.”
Jordan remained standing.
“Did they pull interest?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“They asked whether there were eligibility concerns.”
Jordan frowned.
“What does my dad’s money have to do with eligibility?”
“Probably nothing.”
“Probably?”
Coach Reed sighed.
“If somebody claims a recruit received improper financial benefits, schools sometimes ask questions.”
Jordan laughed bitterly.
“The benefit was my own money getting stolen.”
“I know.”
Jordan paced.
“What exactly did the email say?”
Coach Reed hesitated.
Jordan looked at him.
“Coach.”
Reed handed him a printed copy.
The message was short.
You should examine Jordan Walker’s financial background before recruiting him. His family has hidden money and irregular accounts tied to investments. North Ridge may not know everything.
Jordan stared.
No specific allegation.
Just suspicion.
Designed to contaminate.
“Who sent it?”
“Anonymous account.”
Jordan’s jaw tightened.
“Could Andre?”
“The account existed months before his recent appearance.”
Jordan thought.
Keisha?
Impossible.
Marcus?
Absurd.
The Ridgeway investor?
Possible.
He called Denise Harper.
She reviewed the email that afternoon.
“The wording is intentionally vague,” she said.
“Can we trace it?”
“Possibly, but not easily without legal process.”
“Could Ridgeway people know my name?”
“Yes.”
Jordan leaned back.
Denise continued.
“The document listing you as contingent beneficiary may have circulated among investors.”
“Why was I listed anyway?”
“That is still unclear.”
Jordan frowned.
“Dad said he didn’t put my name there.”
Denise nodded.
“I reviewed his signed investment documents. Your name appears in an appendix prepared by the organizer.”
“Why?”
“Because the funding transfer came from an account titled in your name.”
Jordan stared.
“So whoever took the money knew.”
“Yes.”
“Who organized Ridgeway?”
Denise looked at her notes.
“Terrence Cole.”
Jordan recognized the name.
“My dad’s friend.”
“The same man who received the investment.”
Jordan called Marcus.
“Who’s Terrence Cole?”
Marcus became quiet.
“Why?”
“Did he know the ten thousand came from my account?”
Marcus hesitated.
“I told him it was family money.”
Jordan’s anger rose.
“That’s not an answer.”
“Yes.”
Jordan closed his eyes.
“Did he know it belonged to me?”
“I think so.”
“You think?”
Marcus sighed.
“He knew the account title.”
Jordan stood.
“Where is he?”
“I haven’t spoken to him in months.”
“Why?”
“Because Ridgeway collapsed and everyone started blaming everyone.”
Jordan heard something in Marcus’s tone.
“What happened exactly?”
Marcus paused.
“Terrence collected money from six investors to buy and renovate two duplexes.”
“And?”
“One property had undisclosed liens. The other needed far more repairs than he represented.”
“Fraud?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did police get involved?”
“No.”
“Lawyers?”
“Yes.”
Jordan frowned.
“Is that why some attorney emailed me?”
“Probably.”
Jordan stared toward the school parking lot.
“Dad.”
“Yeah?”
“Could Terrence be trying to scare me because you owe him?”
Marcus’s voice sharpened.
“I don’t owe him.”
“Could he think you do?”
“Yes.”
Jordan closed his eyes.
“Great.”
That evening Marcus pulled out every Ridgeway document.
For once, Jordan did not have to discover them.
Marcus spread them across the table himself.
Terrence Cole had been Marcus’s friend since high school.
He had sold the investment as a safe real-estate flip.
Marcus contributed twelve thousand of his own money and ten thousand from Jordan’s custodial account.
Other investors contributed more.
The venture failed.
Then something stranger happened.
Terrence claimed Marcus had personally guaranteed part of another investor’s contribution.
Marcus denied it.
A signature existed.
Marcus said it was not his.
Denise studied the scanned document.
“This should have been investigated earlier.”
Marcus looked ashamed.
“I wanted it to disappear.”
Jordan laughed softly.
“Of course you did.”
Marcus accepted the comment.
Denise continued.
“If the signature was forged, that changes the dispute.”
Jordan pointed to the footer.
An email address appeared.
TColeProperties.
“I know how to find out if he sent Carolina State.”
Denise frowned.
“Do not contact him pretending to be somebody else.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
Jordan looked at Marcus.
“Ask him.”
Marcus stared.
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Why would he admit it?”
“He might admit enough.”
Marcus rubbed his jaw.
Jordan leaned forward.
“You keep avoiding conflict until it becomes somebody else’s problem.”
Marcus looked at him.
“Call him.”
For a moment the roles felt reversed.
Then Marcus picked up his phone.
Terrence answered on the fourth ring.
“Well, look who finally remembered my number.”
Marcus put the call on speaker.
“Did you contact Carolina State about Jordan?”
Silence.
Then Terrence laughed.
“Your kid got recruiters now?”
Marcus’s voice stayed level.
“Did you contact them?”
“Why would I?”
“Because his name was on Ridgeway documents.”
Terrence paused.
Jordan watched Marcus.
Marcus continued.
“If you have an issue with me, deal with me.”
“You should’ve thought about that before sending lawyers after everybody.”
“I didn’t send lawyers.”
“Your ex-wife’s friend is asking questions.”
Denise raised an eyebrow.
Marcus looked at Jordan.
Terrence continued.
“You people drag my business into daylight, daylight goes everywhere.”
Jordan’s stomach tightened.
Marcus asked, “What did you send?”
Terrence laughed.
“I don’t remember.”
“Did you contact Carolina State?”
Another pause.
“Maybe they deserved to know who they were dealing with.”
Jordan closed his eyes.
Marcus’s expression changed.
Not fear.
Anger.
Controlled.
“You contacted a college recruiting my seventeen-year-old son because you’re mad at me.”
Terrence replied, “Your son’s money funded the deal. He’s part of it.”
Marcus’s voice became cold.
“No.”
He looked directly at Jordan.
“He never was.”
Terrence laughed.
“You don’t get to decide that now.”
Marcus answered:
“You’re right.”
Jordan looked at him.
Marcus continued.
“I decided it when I took his money.”
Silence.
“That was mine.”
Jordan’s throat tightened.
Marcus finished:
“You want somebody to punish, punish me.”
Terrence hung up.
Denise quietly said, “We recorded that with everyone’s consent on this end. Depending on jurisdiction and applicable law, we’ll discuss how it may be used.”
Jordan barely heard her.
He was looking at Marcus.
His father had finally stepped between him and a consequence instead of allowing Jordan to absorb it.
The next morning, Carolina State received a written explanation from Denise Harper.
Coach Collins called Jordan personally.
“This doesn’t change our evaluation of you.”
Jordan closed his eyes.
“Thank you.”
“There’s one condition.”
His heart jumped.
“What?”
“Stop reading anonymous emails about yourself before games.”
Jordan laughed.
“Yes, ma’am.”
When the call ended, Jordan walked into the living room.
Marcus was rehanging a loose corner of the old family photograph.
Jordan watched him.
“Carolina State’s still interested.”
Marcus smiled.
“Good.”
Jordan nodded.
Then he opened the hallway closet.
He removed the championship trophy.
This time, he carried it to the living room.
He placed it beneath the family photo.
Marcus looked at him.
Jordan said nothing.
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Neither did Marcus.
But the trophy stayed.
