Helpless by Daniel Palmer

to prevent the coming disaster. He wasn’t worried about himself as much as about Jill.
    “You’re a minute away from making me an outcast in this town.”
    Powers gave Tom his best “come on, now” look, which Tom wanted to rub off with his knuckles. “Let’s not blow this out of proportion, Coach. We have every confidence that we’ll find the prankster within this group here.”
    “And if you don’t?”
    “If we don’t, then we’ll keep digging.”
    “And how do you expect me to coach these girls after this, Craig?”
    “The same way you always do,” Powers said. “You stand strong. Once we figure out who’s responsible, the whole incident will blow over. Trust me on this.”
    “And what about my daughter?” Tom lowered his voice and asked the question through clenched teeth.
    “We thought about that, too,” Powers replied, also in a low, secretive voice. “We know you two haven’t had the easiest time adjusting, what with her mother’s death, the circumstances, and you moving back to Shilo and all. I don’t want to imply anything here, Tom, but, well ...”
    A thick vein on Tom’s neck, usually visible only when he was working out, began to pulse for another reason. Every muscle in his body felt tense—on fire. “Say it,” he demanded.
    “It’s just one theory, but ...”
    “You think my daughter is behind this?”
    Powers looked around, worried that someone might have overheard. “Consider the timing.”
    The thought churned Tom’s stomach. His chest tightened while his mind explored the unfathomable. Could Jill have done it? No! That was impossible to believe, but ... but what if she had somebody do it for her? But why? Revenge for all his perceived wrongdoings?
    Is it possible she thinks I had something to do with her mother’s death? he wondered.
    Tom rubbed his hands back and forth through his hair. He glanced over at Jill, who stood in line, stone-faced and still. Unlike him, not a bead of sweat glistened.
    Powers called for the girls’ attention. Tom considered leaving the practice field altogether in protest but decided to stay. Murphy had it all figured out from the start—Tom Hawkins, stay or go, was about to be branded guilty of something.
    “Hello, girls,” Powers began. “So, I bet you’re wondering why the gathering.”
    There were murmurs. Some said, “Sure.” Most stayed silent.
    “Okay, so here’s the deal. Somebody sent me a link to a Web blog on Tumblr.com ,” Powers explained. “The page contains some very graphic content, with serious allegations pertaining to Coach Hawkins and one of you players. Now, we don’t believe these posts are authentic. If we did, Coach Hawkins would not be standing here with us while we confronted you all.”
    The girls weren’t ignorant. They knew “graphic content” meant sex.
    Tom looked up and down the line, studying his team carefully. He didn’t doubt that somebody had taken the trouble to create the salacious posts. The question on his mind—Powers’s and Murphy’s, too—was who and why.
    Tom’s ability to read body language wasn’t helping at all. The girls were openly and obviously nervous: fidgeting with their shorts, bouncing on their heels, looking at the grass. If they were in on it as a group, perhaps they feared they’d all been busted. More likely, they were feeling anxious because some plus-sized cop was parading in front of them, wearing mirrored shades and doing his best O.K. Corral strut.
    Tom caught Jill’s eye. She held her father’s gaze for a beat. A pained expression washed over her face seconds before she looked away, and that hurt Tom more than any prank ever could. The SEALs had taught him how to maintain control over his emotions. But it took every bit of his training to keep from shouting out to her, “Baby, don’t you believe it. Don’t you believe for one second I would ever do that!”
    He mouthed the words to her, though.
    “This is not a joke,” Powers continued. “Some of