Double Play (25 page)

A hand touched
the small of her back. She spun around to chastise its owner but
relaxed when she saw Benji.

“
Hey!
I thought you had a faculty meeting.”

He shook his
head. “The dean’s a Soldiers’ fan. She’s here ....” He
gestured vaguely around the park, but there were tens of thousands
of fans packed into the stadium. “Somewhere. How’s it
going?”

She shrugged.
“About what you’d expect. Roger Aiken made a nice speech and a few
players told some stories. Chris Talcheker read a poem he wrote
himself.”

Benji raised an
amused eyebrow. “Roses are red, violets are blue, Damien is dead,
sniff, sniff, boo-hoo?”

Cat elbowed him
in the ribcage. “A little decorum, please?”

“
I’m
not gonna apologize. The guy was three times over the legal limit
when he drove into that parking post. It could just as easily have
been another car. Instead of this sanctimonious crap, we should be
hearing that he’s been issued a postmortem DUI.”

“
He
was drunk? How do you know that?”

“
I was
at the medical examiner’s office today to fill out forms for the
Anatomy Bequest Program.”

“
What
is that?”

“
Procuring the cadavers of people who donate their bodies to
science upon death.”

Cat wrinkled her
nose. “I will never understand your world.”

“
One
of my students is an intern there this semester. She told me his
BAC was .24, but they don’t want it released until this series is
over.” Benji shook his head, his
blue
eyes full of contempt. “I will never understand
your
world.”

She shushed him
as Roger Aiken took the podium again. “Thank you, everyone, for
coming out tonight. After speaking with the commissioner and
Melissa Staats, we have decided not to postpone tomorrow’s game.
Number twenty-six would want us to play and that’s just what we’re
going to do. Let’s win it for Damien.”

A round of
applause flared up around the stadium and continued as the players
walked off stage. They congregated with the front office staff on
the field, shaking hands and patting one another’s
shoulders.

Cat entwined her
fingers with Benji’s and squeezed. She jerked her head toward Joel
as he stumbled over to the group of players.

“
Can
you believe he showed up drunk?”

“
Uh,
yeah. Isn’t that how their whole Brat Pack likes to
roll?”

“
Not
Joel. He wasn’t even drinking after we clinched the
division.”

“
Well,
his friend just turned up as fish food. That could drive anyone to
the bar.”

She surveyed the
scene. The outside media had begun to swarm the players, which
meant Spencer should be on the scene. She spotted him on the other
side of the stage, talking to a familiar face. She squinted to
verify
, noting the sandy blond
hair and arm cast. It
was Ryan Brokaw
, all right
.

“
Hey,
he did make it.”

“
Spencer?” Benji asked with a droll, flat tone. “I’m just
surprised he wasn’t sitting on your lap.”

She frowned at
him. “I was talking about Ryan Brokaw. I didn’t see him before.
Come talk to him with me.”

Ryan was
gesturing to his broken arm when they walked up.

“
Cat,
hi!” Spencer’s
round
face lit up, but the glow dimmed when he saw Benji on her arm. “Oh
hey, Benji.”

“
Spencer.”

“
Glad
you were able to make it, Ryan.” Cat forced a smile. “How come I
didn’t see you up on the stage?” Too late she saw Spencer rapidly
shaking his head in unsubtle warning.

Ryan’s
turquoise
eyes narrowed
into defiant slits. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“
Uh …
just what I said. All the players were up on the stage except for
you and Joel.”

“
I
wanted to sit with Carmen.”

“
Okay.” She smiled again. “No need to be defensive. I only ask
because I was worried that maybe you couldn’t get up the stairs
because your leg was injured or something. You did fall two
stories.”

“
Nope,
leg’s fine. Just this.” He smacked his right forearm—still encased
in a cast and wrapped in a sling—producing a dull thud under his
suit jacket.

He turned around
and walked off, but Cat hurried after him, leaving Spencer and
Benji behind.

“
Ryan,
wait.” She placed her hand on his cast to slow him. “Has Detective
Kahn come back to talk to you?”

“
Who?”

“
The
police detective.”

His eyes glazed
over and he slowly shook his head from side to side
, his handsome face showing no sign of
recognition.

She held her hand
up to a height just a few inches shorter than him. “About yay tall.
Black guy, late thirties?” She rolled her eyes. “Carries a badge
and a gun?”

“
Oh
uh, yeah. I don’t know.”

“
You
don’t know what?” Cat couldn’t keep the frustration out of her
voice. Playing dumb was one thing, but when it was the dumb doing
it, it made for a silly, annoying show.

“
I
don’t know anything about him.”

“
I’m
not asking you for his mother’s maiden name. I just want to know,
has he talked to you again or not?”

“
I
don’t want to get into this.”

“
Get
into what? I already know he’s spoken with you and had a warrant to
get your medical records.”

Ryan’s
blue-green
eyes darted
behind her. “Shut up, Cat.” Before she could respond, he added,
“This isn’t the place and you need to drop it. Now.”

He stormed off
and Cat froze in place, watching him go.

“
What
the hell was that?” Benji said, appearing at her side with Spencer
still in tow.

“
I
have no idea.” She made note of Spencer and tried to smile as
nonchalantly as possible. “Grief, I guess. How’d he seem to
you?”

Spencer shrugged.
“Just bitched about his cast more than anything. I think he’s
mourning the loss of his arm more than Damien.” He pointed at
George Hudson. “Who’s up with the boss?”

Sidled
up next to the boss was a tall, thin man with a pencil-thin
mustache. He wore a fedora and a khaki trench
coat.

“
The
Godfather
? I don’t
know.” The team owner’s
chubby
hands flew up and he shook his finger in the
man’s face. “Whoa. That makes me feel better about the exchange I
just had with Ryan.”

“
I’m
guessing it’s not a friend.” The man pulled George to the side and
placed a hand on his shoulder. Spencer squinted. “He looks
familiar.”

“
I
know.”

“
Is he
an agent?”

Benji looked over
her shoulder. “That guy? I know him.”

Both Spencer and
Cat turned around and said in unison, “You do?”

They turned to
each other and chuckled at their urgency. No reporter liked getting
scooped, especially by an amateur.

Benji wrapped his
arms around Cat from behind and rested his chin on her shoulder.
“That’s Dr. Martinez—the head of the psychology department at
VBU.”

“
Maybe
George is bringing him in to counsel some guys,” Spencer
said.

“
Uh,
no. His specialty is behavioral addictions,” Benji said. “I know
this because he had the nerve to earmark science funds for a
ridiculous study regarding superstition in pathological
gamblers.”

Cat jabbed him
with her elbow to quiet him but not subtly enough to prevent
Spencer from taking note.

“
What
was that?”

“
Hmm?”

“
You
know something.” His eyes traveled a slow path from George Hudson
to Cat and back again. “About that guy and George.
”

“
I
don’t.”

“
You
do.” Spencer pouted. “How can you be holding out on me?”

She sighed.
“Okay, but this is not to be repeated in the
News Herald
.
Off the record?”

“
I’m
hurt you even have to say that.”

“
You’ll forgive me when you hear this.” She checked to make
sure they were far enough away from anyone else. “Before he took
over the team, George Hudson had a gambling addiction.”

“
What?
How do you know this?”

“
I
can’t reveal my source.”

“
But
it’s solid?”

“
Yeah,
I think so. I mean, I haven’t verified it. My source said he’s been
clean, dry—however they say it in gambling lingo—since he became
the owner.”

“
That’s messed up.”

Green Day’s
“Closing Time” began to play over the speakers and the people in
the stands began to disperse.

“
Crap
,” Spencer said,
taking note of the crowd.
“
I’ve got to get going, but I expect to have a
conversation about this later.”

“
You
got it.” She wiggled out of Benji’s grasp and held up her index
finger. “Hang here for just one more second? I want to find one
last guy.”

She left him and
searched the stage area for Joel Faulk. Ten minutes earlier, the
outfielder could barely keep his head up. She checked the stage
stairs, but he was long gone. She snuck through the groups of
Soldiers. Many players were still lingering despite the stadium
clearing out. None of them was Joel
’s freckled face
, however. Cat headed for the field
door but stopped when the right field corner caught her
eye.

The stadium had
installed a small patch of wire fencing there, giving a see-through
to the field for the kids and ballhawks outside the park. It was
one of the many attempts to make the modern stadium a throwback to
the old days. If it was a vintage effect they were after, Cat
didn’t know why they’d bothered to tear down the old stadium three
years ago. At the very least, she wished they’d added a retractable
roof to their modern marvel, since baseball season runs from April
to October, but snow and sleet aren’t as reliable. Mocking the
ironies was Spencer’s job, however; hers was to talk up the newest
menu options for the concession stands and the upcoming giveaways
for the fans. Spencer might envy her job, but some days she missed
having an opinion. She approached the fence and peeked out at the
lit sidewalk. Sure enough it had been Joel
’s bright orange hair
she’d spotted,
stumbling down the walkway with
a well-built man wearing a cast on his left arm.
Ryan Brokaw. Craning her head to see more, Cat pressed her face
against the cold wire fence to keep them in her visual as they
continued down the sidewalk. When they reached the corner, they
hopped in a yellow taxi and sped off. She pulled away from the
metal fence and rubbed its chalky residue from her
cheek.

“
You
ready to go home?”

Cat jumped
around. “Benji!” She took a step away from the fence, unsure why
she felt guilty. “Yeah, let’s go.”

He leaned in and
peered out to the sidewalk himself. “What’s out there?”

“
Ryan.
And Joel.”

“
So?”

“
So
Ryan told me he didn’t join his teammates on the stage so that he
could sit with his haughty wife, but instead of leaving with a
grouchy supermodel, he was escorting a drunk
ginger
home. He lied to me.”

“
Why?”

“
I
don’t know, but I’m gonna find out.”

Cat reached for
the cup of coffee beside her. It had finally cooled enough to drink
without sipping, and the liquid warmed her body going down. She
kept the hot ceramic mug clasped between her frigid hands. The
apartment was always chilly early in the morning and while she
could wrap an afghan around her body, she needed her fingers free
for the keyboard.

The sound of soft
footsteps tore her away from the computer screen. Benji headed
straight for the picture window, opening the blinds to let in the
light from the sunrise. He squinted at the bright rays as they
streamed through the living room.

“
It’s
really starting to freak me out that you’ve become an early
bird.”

She pointed down
the hallway. “That’s because of the night owl nesting in our
office. Morning is the only peaceful time I get. Did you hear him
come in last night?”

Benji zipped into
the kitchen and came out with a cereal bowl and the carton of
organic milk. She scooted the box of cereal toward him.

“
No,
but I was out pretty hard.”

“
It
was late—or early.” She adjusted her computer screen away from the
glare of the window.

“
What
are you working on? Tell me it’s not a puff piece about
Damien
. Something about
how the Lord took his angel home too soon or that he’s playing
baseball with Jesus now
?
I had enough of that last night.”