Rough Trade

Understood?”
    Chrissy and Jeff both nodded woodenly. Jeff especially seemed anxious and preoccupied, his thoughts elsewhere. It was as if he couldn’t quite get his mind around the fact that this was actually happening to him. But then, of course, neither could I.
    “Now that the story of the move is out,” I continued, “I don’t see any reason why we shouldn’t fill the police in on what’s going on with the team and the bank. Hopefully that’ll help take some of the heat off of you.”
    “Thank God,” interjected Chrissy, with feeling. “Then maybe they’ll stop harassing us and start looking for who really killed Beau.”
    Jeff said nothing, but instead shot Chrissy a peculiar, inquiring look. There seemed to be something off kilter with them today, a kind of edginess to their presence together that made me think that perhaps they’d had a quarrel. I couldn’t help but wonder whether everything that was going on wasn’t putting a terrible strain on their marriage. Of course, it would be a miracle if it weren’t.
    The phone rang. “Don’t answer that,” said Chrissy. “After what happened yesterday we don’t have any friends left, and there’s no one I want to talk to. Let the machine pick it up.”
    We listened as a woman’s voice came on the tape, identifying herself as a TV producer. She wanted Jeff to call her immediately. She wanted to send a crew right over to give him a chance to explain his side of the story. As soon as she hung up, there was another call, this time a radio announcer who explained that he’d slotted Jeff for a rush-hour interview and was just calling to let him know. When the phone rang a third time, Jeff stood up and carefully took the receiver off the hook. Even the mechanical throbbing noise that was meant to get you to return the phone to its cradle was less annoying than the incessant intrusions of the press. Besides, it turned itself off after a minute. Unfortunately, when it came to the media assault that had been launched against the Rendells there was no end in sight.
    “As long as we’re all agreed,” I continued, “I’ll get in contact with the detectives investigating your father’s death and fill them in on the team’s situation. In the meantime, we have to decide what to do about the team and the bank. Today is Friday. On Tuesday Gus Wallenberg and First Milwaukee are going to call the loan. That gives us five days. So I guess the big question is, what do you guys want to do?”
    “You mean, do I want to move the team to L.A.?” Jeff asked.
    “That’s one way of asking the question. Another way is to ask what’s most important to you both as a family? What do the two of you want? Do you want to continue owning a professional football team? Do you want to stay in Milwaukee? Would you be happy in L. A.? I’ll try to get you to wherever you want, but I need to know the outcome you’re looking for.”
    Jeff looked at Chrissy and then back at me. “I want things to be the way they were,” he said finally.
    “Meaning?” I prompted.
    “Meaning before my father sold his soul to First Milwaukee, before Jack McWhorter came waving this L.A. thing in my face... I want things to be back the way they were.”
    “So if I could figure out a way that would be financially feasible for you to keep the team in Milwaukee, that would be your first choice?” I asked.
    “How would you do that?”
    “First of all I’d try to twist Mayor Deutsch’s arm to get him to the table. I’d explain that unless certain conditions are met—like the stadium renovation, like renegotiating the lease on more favorable terms—then you’re moving, no ifs, ands, or buts. Then, in the meantime I’d try to find a white knight, a partner with deep pockets who’d be willing to come in as the minority owner of the team in exchange for paying off the note to First Milwaukee.”
    “Do you think that’s possible?” asked Jeff, brightening for the first time since his father’s death.
    “It’s possible, but it’s still a lot of ifs.”
    “I still can’t believe you’d want to stay after what they did to us yesterday,” declared Chrissy. From the level of grievance and exasperation in her voice I guessed this was what she and Jeff had been arguing about. “How can you possibly want to keep the team here after all those things that asshole Bob Deutsch said about you on TV this morning?”
    “Dad liked to always say that football is a rough sport,” replied