Double Play (10 page)

“
I
don’t get it. If you heart Buffalo so much, why didn’t you sign an
extension?”

She’d asked him
that question several times over the season and the answer had
always been “We’ll see at the end of the season,” which was usually
player/agent code for holding out to get more money and a longer
contract. Cat didn’t blame them. She’d hold out for a bigger
paycheck and job security, too; that is, if sportswriters were ever
in the position to demand that.

“
Carmen hates it here. We met at a fashion show in Milan, got
married and moved here. Soon after that, her agent dropped her. Now
the only runway she sees is the one at the airport. I think she
blames her career dwindling on living here.”

“
Is
that the reason?”

“
No.”
He looked out
into the empty hallway. “She’s twenty-six. If models were horses,
she’d be on her way to the glue factory.”

Cat winced,
taking a second to shake off that horrible image. “Why don’t you
just get a penthouse in Manhattan, then? You could at least live
there in the offseason.”

He tugged at the
robe to display the tattoo again. “Our offseason is the Bills’
season.” He shook his head. “It’s not just that. I believe she
thinks that if I was on a more high-profile team, it would put her
back in the spotlight.”

“
I
guess.”

“
She
knows I love it here and I know she hates it here, but as long as I
was under contract, there was nothing that could be
done.”

“
Until
now.”

“
Five
days after the end of the season, to be correct. She’s got the day
I’ll hit the market as a free agent circled on our refrigerator
calendar.”

“
So
what now?”

“
My
agent was here earlier. He explained to Carmen that it might be
wise to at least meet with the Soldiers and discuss an extension,
just in case my arm scares other teams off. If they come through
with a good offer, I might be able to talk her into staying.” A
smile crept across his face.

“
Either that’s the painkillers kicking in or you’ve found the
bright side of this accident.”

“
Little bit of both.” He settled back onto the pillow. “How’s
the team holding up?”

The
team!? How about me?

“
Well
enough.” She spotted Detective Kahn’s card on his nightstand.
“There’s a cop asking all these questions though.”

“
Yeah,
he’s been here, too.”

“
What’s he want with you?”

“
I
don’t know. I told him I fell but I think he was looking for
something else. Must be a slow week at work.”

“
Wish
I could say that for me.”

Ryan pointed at
the television. “I caught part of your press conference on Buffalo
Breaktime. How’s it feel to be behind the microphone for a
change?”

“
Awful.”

Ryan chuckled.
“Every reporter should have to do it once. It might give them some
perspective, like how shrinks have to get shrunk before they can
put anybody on their couch.”

Cat peered at the
signatures on his cast. “I see Adam’s been here.” The cursive AA
took up a fourth of his arm. Even the mohawked pitcher’s autograph
had to be the center of attention.

“
You
want to sign? There’s a Sharpie around here somewhere.”

“
Sure.” Cat grabbed it off the nightstand and drew a kitten
with a dialogue balloon saying “Get Well Soon!”

Ryan smiled in
appreciation.

She capped the
marker. “So, how’d it happen anyway? Off the record.”

“
Off
the record? Okay.” He lowered his voice
,
“I fell.”

“
Very
helpful, thank you.” She grimaced. “I just mean it’s a concrete
ledge on my balcony. I know you’re tall, but the ledge is at least
three feet tall. Were you sitting on it or wrestling
around?”

“
I
don’t really want to talk about it. We’d been drinking; I was
acting like an idiot. Let’s just forget it.”

Easy for you
to say, you’re not the one with an angry mob poking you with
pitchforks
.

“
How
much did you have to drink?”

He sighed. “You
sound like that cop.”

“
Cut
me some slack. I’m just curious, it being my place and
all.”

“
I
know.” He yawned. “I think the meds are starting to kick in,
though.”

Cat frowned. He’d
been fine just a few seconds earlier. “Okay, I’ll get out of here.
Looks like you’re ready to be released. Will I see you in the
dugout at tomorrow’s game?”

“
I
don’t know. Hudson came by earlier and brought those.” He pointed
to a bouquet of daisies in a smiley face bucket.

“
That
was nice.”

“
He
said they were gonna leave it up to me, but Carmen wants to go down
to St. Barts. The Caribbean weather is a lot better for rehabbing
than Buffalo.”

“
Oh.”
She’d never encountered a player on the DL who didn’t want to root
for his teammates from the dugout. George Hudson and Roger Aiken
were notorious for being player-friendly management, but this went
beyond good will. “I’m sure your teammates would like to have you
here.”

After all, if the
Soldiers made it to the championship and won, Ryan Brokaw would
still get a ring and go down in history as being a member of the
roster, even if he only watched the series on TV from the
beach.

“
Yeah,
well, not a lot of good I can do anyway, sitting there like a
lump.”

“
Maybe
I’ll see you at the Soldiers Summit in January?”

“
I
doubt it.”

If he loved
Buffalo, he had a funny way of showing it. Ryan was a fan favorite
but he wasn’t worthy of a single jersey in the stands. He’d been a
Soldier for the last four years and hadn’t attended the annual fan
convention once. Fans paid a hundred bucks for a ticket to the
Summit, hoping to get a glimpse of their favorite players and, year
after year, the Brokaw fans were let down.

“
Well
… take care.”

“
You
too, Cat.”

His
blue-green
eyes closed with that.
Cat watched him for a second before turning on her heel and walking
out the door.

Benji opened the
door for her before she had even dug her keys out of her purse.
“You’re late.”

She ignored him
and rushed inside.

“
Quinn!”

She charged into
the living room, saw
that
it was empty and spun around.
Then she
came back down the hallway
and went into her office.

Benji followed
her in. “What’s wrong?”

“
It’s time for a family
meeting.”

She flipped on
the light and looked around.
The futon was unmade and Quinn’s clothes were strewn all
over the floor.

"Look at this pig sty."

She reached for a beer bottle carelessly
s
et atop her printer,
but a shiny gleam caught her eye instead. It came from a
gold ring
nestled
inside
a wadded-up t-shirt
. S
he
picked it up to inspect.

“
Quinn
doesn’t strike me as a ring wearer,” Benji said. “Maybe brass
knuckles.”

Cat sighed. “This
isn’t Quinn’s ring.” She handed it to him.

He studied the
emblem. “It’s a coat of arms. The McDaniel Family’s?”

“
No.
At least, I don’t think so … I don’t know. I’ve never seen a
McDaniel crest. If that’s what it was, it would have handcuffs in
place of the
fleur-de-lis
.” She pulled her cellphone out of
her purse, Googled the McDaniel coat of arms, and showed him the
image on the screen. “Nope.”

“
You
don’t think it’s like, hot, do you?”

“
Stolen?” She smiled. That’s exactly what she thought. She’d
even go a step further and bet that t-shirt it had been sitting in
was stolen. But Benji was better off not knowing everything. “He
could’ve got it at a pawn shop.”

Benji set the
ring back down on the desk and frowned. “Guess you should ask
Quinn. Of course, then he’ll know you were snooping in his
room.”

“
His
room? Uh-uh. If we start calling it that, we’ll
never get rid of him.” She walked out to the hallway and stumbled
over an object. She caught herself on the wall.

“
Ow.”

“
Are
you okay?”

She frowned at
the bags on the ground. “What are these doing here?”

Benji’s arms were
crossed as if he was waiting for her to get a clue. She searched
his face for a
hint
.
Suddenly, she remembered.

“
Oh!
We’re supposed to be checking out that wedding site, aren’t
we?”

“
Uh-huh.”

“
I
can’t tonight, Benj.”

His face fell.
“What? How come?”

“
Today
has just been awful; I’ll be terrible company.” She tore her eyes
away from his disappointed face. “Besides, I need to be here to
raise hell with Quinn when he gets home. Where is he
anyway?”

“
He
went out about an hour ago.”

She sighed. “Of
course he did. Why would he be at home, worrying? He’s not the one
who might get fired for having a poker game at his
apartment
. How could he?
H
e has neither a job nor an apartment.”

“
Fired?” Benji stepped over the bag to get closer. “Was it that
bad?”

She
shrugged.

“
What
about Roger? What’d he have to say about it?”

“
Roger
can only protect me so much. Nobody really cares about illegal
gambling until it results in the star pitcher missing in action for
the playoffs. Then it’s the crime of the century. I spent the
entire day apologizing for something I didn’t even know was going
on.”

“
Yeah,
the officer I spoke to last night told me we could get fined for
hosting a ‘social gambling venue.’ ”

She closed her
eyes, mentally wishing the day—and especially the night
before—away. “Did he say how much?”

“
No,
but I think we could fight it.”

She sighed.
“That’s the least of our problems. I can’t leave Quinn alone here
tonight. At the rate he’s going, we’ll be evicted before
dawn.”

Benji enfolded
her into his arms and she rested her head on his
shoulder.

“
Come
on, let’s get away for the night. The playoffs start tomorrow and
I’m not going to see you all week.”

“
Hopefully all month.”

Benji’s brow
furrowed in pain and she squeezed his arm reassuringly.

“
Oh!
Not the ‘not seeing you’ part. A month would put us in the
championship series.”

He nodded. “Well,
Quinn isn’t even here and I doubt he’ll be coming in before the
early morning anyway. You need a night to relax.”

“
I
need a fortnight to relax.”

She looked down
the hallway. The living room had been cleaned up—she guessed by
Benji and not Quinn, since it bore no traces of last night’s
debacle.

“
I
guess it would be nice to get out of the house for a
night.”

That was all
Benji needed. He swept in for a kiss.

They’d been
driving for twenty minutes. Benji had refused to tell her where
they were going on account of it being a surprise, but she could
tell from the navigation screen they were only a half mile away and
not much farther than that from the river.

“
À La
Mode Abode?”

The wooden sign
came into view only a second before the oversized Cape Cod
style building
peeked
out from a row of pine trees.

“
A bed
and breakfast?” She turned to Benji. “As in ‘we let strangers stay
in our house and share a toilet, while we serve pancakes and call
it
quaint’
?”

“
Waffles.
Belgium
waffles to be exact.”

Cat
frowned.

“
Just
give it a chance. Look, that’s the innkeeper right there. She’s
waiting for us.”

A portly older
woman waved enthusiastically from the wraparound front porch.
She wore a pink scarf over her
short mouse-brown hair and a matching sweatshirt adorned with green
lace and a hand-painted red dog.

Cat waved back
and through gritted teeth replied, “Oh, I do not like where this is
going.”

The woman bustled
down the front steps. Before Cat had stepped out of the seat, the
woman had made it over to the driveway.

“
Howdy
there! I’m Delilah. You must be the blushin’
bride-to-be.”

“
It’s
just a sunburn.”

Benji cracked a
smile. “Delilah, this is my fiancée, Cat.”