Homicide in High Heels (27 page)

I paused, and I realized she was right.
Someone here had been playing dumb. Her. And I'd totally fallen for
it.

"Okay, then, no more playing dumb." I held
up the green package in my hands, still careful to not smudge any
fingerprints. "This is your husband's."

Beth nodded. "It's not his fault. Everybody
does this stuff."

"But not everybody kills somebody with
it."

"And John didn't either," Beth said with
conviction behind her voice.

As I looked down at the gun in her hands,
puzzle pieces fell into place, and I believe she was being honest
with me.

"Because you did," I said.

Beth didn't answer. She just stared at me.
"Maddie, I think it's time for us to go now."

I took an involuntary step backwards, coming
up against the dingy lockers. "Go where?" I asked. I heard the
crowd groaning behind me again. Damn, would this inning never end?
The Giants seemed to be getting men on base one after another. For
how anxious I'd been when they'd gotten down to the last out, that
last out was now taking forever.

At least it felt that way with a gun trained
on me.

"I'm sorry, Maddie, really I am," Beth said.
And again, I had the feeling she was being honest. "But I can't let
you walk out of here with that. If the police start questioning my
husband about his drug use—"

"—he'll realize how much of his drugs are
missing," I finished for her. "Because you took them to kill
Lacey."

This time Beth nodded. "She was going to
ruin everything, Maddie. I couldn't have that. After all John and I
have worked for, after everything he sacrificed, everything he's
done to be a Stars player. And this little nobody from the wrong
side of town came in and thought she deserved it all? She wanted a
starring role on our show, she wanted John's money, she wanted
everything. Well, she couldn't have it."

"Including John?" I said, seeing it all come
together now. It hadn't been about the money, it had been about
jealousy.

To my surprise Beth threw her head back and
laughed. I took the opportunity to take a step closer to the
lockers, putting my hand out behind me. I felt around for anything
I could use as a weapon. Baseball glove, cream, resin. Then I
finally felt a little lift of hope as my hand clutched onto the top
of a wooden baseball bat.

Only I didn't have a chance to use it as
Beth's eyes snapped back to me, the gun going straight-armed in
front of her as a new look took over her features. It wasn't the
scared, apologetic one I'd seen her wearing around the other
Baseball Wives. It wasn't the concerned one she'd worn around her
husband. It wasn't even the regret I'd seen a moment ago, when I
honestly believed she hadn't wanted to harm me. This was a hard,
flat look of a woman who wasn't going to let a little thing like
emotion get in the way of her success.

"How stupid do you think I am, Maddie?" she
asked. "You really think I didn't know that my husband is gay?"

Okay, yeah, that was exactly what I had
thought. So sue me. Playing dumb had worked for her reality TV
character, and I was a bit naive that I was just now realizing what
a
character
she had been playing.

"Of course I knew," she spat back at me.
"You, Kendra, Liz…you all think I'm some idiot. Oblivious to my
husband's flirting. You couldn't be farther from the truth. I'm the
one who
tells
him to flirt with women. I'm the one who told
him to go out with Dana in the first place, hoping maybe it would
throw you off the scent."

"Wait, you set that date up with your
husband and Dana?"

She shrugged. "How was I to know that Dana's
boyfriend would go off hotheaded and hit John in the face? Some
people can't control their emotions."

"But you can," I said, keeping her talking
as I kept one eye on the gun. Unfortunately, her grip wasn't
loosening any. There was no way I'd be able to swing the baseball
bat at her before her finger could move the half inch it took to
pull that trigger. However, if I kept her talking, maybe I could
distract her for just the second…

"Of course I can," Beth said. "It's what I
do best. It's my full-time job, truth be told."

"A full-time beard."

A slow smile crept across her face. "What
can I say? It pays well. John needed someone to divert suspicion
from him, and who better than an unsuspecting wife? Of course,
there are certain financial perks to being his wife."

"And then there was
Baseball
Wives
."

She nodded. "Another financial perk."

"There seem to be an awful lot of perks with
this job," I said.

"Until Lacey came along." Her face fell.

"Lacey wasn't stupid either," I pressed,
tightening my grip on the baseball bat. "She figured out John's
game."

That creepy smile came back to Beth's face,
but her eyes were still as dead as ever. "I wouldn't exactly call
that tramp smart. She thought I was her friend. She felt sorry for
me, thinking I had no idea that my husband was into men."

"But then the blackmail started."

Beth frowned, shaking her head. "It wasn't
about the money. The amount she wanted was nothing. The problem was
she was getting on the show."

"And?" I asked, not exactly following

"And what do you think
Baseball Wives
is all about? Secrets. Telling each other's secrets. When the
ratings got low, it was Kendra who let it be known that Liz was
sleeping around on her husband. In return, Liz needed more screen
time after she and Tony started going to therapy, so of course she
let it be known that Kendra had been attending shopaholics
anonymous meetings. I'm not stupid. The amount my husband was
paying Lacey was nothing compared to the hundreds of thousands of
dollars that go along with being a celebrity reality TV star. As
soon as Lacey realized she could grab the spotlight and the ratings
if she let my husband's secret out, she'd sing like an opera
star."

"And John wouldn't need you anymore," I
finished for her.

I watched Beth's nostrils flare, realizing
what her true motive was.

Schwimmer had been right. Ten years ago,
professional sports would never have forgiven a gay player. But
times were different. If it came out publicly that Ratski was gay,
I'm sure he'd be on every tabloid news website and blowing up
Twitter for days or weeks…but it would eventually blow over. And
when it did, Ratski would have no need for a fake wife. There went
Beth's moment in the sun, her position on
Baseball Wives
,
and her cash cow of a husband.

"So Ratski knew nothing. He had no idea you
killed Lacey?" Was I a terrible person that I was a little bit
disappointed?

"Of course he didn't," Beth said. "You think
John would hurt somebody?" She shook her head. "He is the kindest,
sweetest, most generous man I've ever known."

And in that moment I realized not only would
Beth be losing her cash cow, she would actually be losing the man
she loved.

"That's why I had to protect him."

I could hear the crowd groaning again as the
Giants took another base.

But I knew I was on borrowed time. Any
minute now somebody was going to come in here. Beth knew it too. I
couldn't string this conversation out much longer.

As if reading my thoughts, Beth took one
large stride toward me, gun first. "We have to go now, Maddie.
We're out of time. The inning will end any second, and Blanco will
come in here to warm up. It's time to go."

Her voice was the same one I used with the
twins when it was naptime. The I'm-in-charge-here voice.

However, just like my twins, I wasn't that
compliant.

My hand clenched around the bat, and I swung
with all I had toward the arm holding the gun. There was a crack of
wood on metal, and then a much louder crack of a bullet flying from
the gun and embedding itself in the wall.

However, if anyone above us heard, they must
have thought it was just another batter warming up.

Beth screamed in pain, dropping the gun. I
dove around her for the door, but I only got two steps before I
felt my feet flying out from under me, Beth's hands going around my
ankles as she dragged me down from behind.

My knees scraped on the plastic Astroturf as
I fell, the drug-filled condom flying from my hands. I kicked
backward with my slingbacks, connecting with something soft, and I
heard Beth grunt in response.

She let go of my ankles, and I scrambled to
my feet and spun around just in time to see her grab another unused
bat and swing in my direction. I dropped to the floor again,
ducking under the whoosh of the bat. I scrambled to the right and
grabbed another discarded bat. I stood, holding it out in front of
me like a sword.

Beth paused, then let out a warrior scream
as she came toward me, bat held high above her head like a club.
She swung downward. Instinctively I brought my bat up to shield her
blow. The force of it vibrated through my arms.

She bounced off of me, and I swung blindly
toward her, connecting with her bat as she blocked my attack.

We must've looked like two overgrown
children playing with light sabers in the dugout if anyone had been
watching. Unfortunately, as I heard the crowd yelling, I knew no
one was watching our action. Everybody's eyes were glued to the
field.

Beth swung again, and I blocked her just in
time to keep her bat from smacking me in the head. Unfortunately it
glanced off my shoulder, and pain jumped up my right side. I
gritted my teeth, trying not to lose my grip, and swung toward Beth
again, just barely missing her as she jumped out of the way.

Then came the most welcome thing I'd heard
all day. The crowd cheering in delight, followed by the announcer
signaling it was the end of the inning.

Beth must've heard it too, as she
paused.

In that same moment, both of our eyes cut to
the gun.

I thought about making a lunge for it, but
there was no way I could get it without being hit in the back of
the head by her bat first. She must have deduced the same thing, as
we both stood there, poised in fighting position.

Until the door swung open.

"What the hell?" Blanco said, his eyes,
cutting from Beth to me, and back again.

It was all the distraction Beth needed.

In one motion, she dropped the bat, grabbed
the drugs from the floor where I'd dropped them, and took off like
a shot through the field entrance.

On instinct I dropped my bat and ran after
her. I'd gone this far; I wasn't going to let Lacey's killer get
away now.

I raced through the entrance, which was an
upward ramp going from our underground bunker to the level of the
playing field. The players were still in the process of switching
sides, the Giants' players tossing baseballs between each other,
and the big-headed Charlie Chaplin and Marilyn Monroe shooting free
T-shirts into the crowd with a giant cannon. Beth paid no attention
to any of them, barreling onto the field, running blindly, with me
a quick heel step behind her.

At first no one tried to stop us, two crazy
women running onto the field, our heels sinking into the soft grass
like clumsy cleats. However, it didn't take long before the players
stopped throwing the ball and turned our way. I was vaguely aware
of the announcer shouting something into the loudspeakers, security
spilling onto the field from different directions. Out of the
corner of my eye I saw Beth and me flashing up on the Jumbotron as
the cameras turned our way. In fact, the only people in the stadium
who seemed unaware of what was going on were Charlie Chaplin and
Marilyn Monroe.

As I well knew, they had zero peripheral
vision inside those huge heads. Which is probably why instead of
getting out of Beth's way, Charlie Chaplin weeble-wobbled right
into her path. She tired to veer off, but it was too late. She
rammed into him, taking them both down, and knocking his head
off…which rolled across the field like a victim of battle.

Beth scrambled to her feet, but Marilyn
Monroe, now aware of the danger, turned around, aimed her shirt gun
right at Beth, and shot at close range.

Beth flew backwards, taking an extra-large
to the belly, and landed on her butt in the grass just as security
arrived and grabbed her under both armpits.

"I'm Beth Ratski! I'm a Baseball Wife! I
belong here!" she screamed as they dragged her off.

I heard the crowd cheering as if a home run
had just sailed over the wall and turned around to see my
disheveled appearance on the Jumbotron, ten times larger than life.
My hair was flying in all directions, my adorable Capri pants
marred with grass stains, and I think one of my shoes was missing a
heel. I did a feeble smile to the crowd. Then turned to the
Ratski's box where I could just make out the shape of a man
standing at the window, pounding at it with both hands.

I waved in his direction. "Hi, honey."

The game was delayed, which was just as well
for the Stars, since we were behind six-to-two. It was late by the
time I had finally given my statement to the Stars security,
several uniformed police officers, and finally the stunned Laurel
and Hardy, who had wisely declared that there would be no comments
and no press conferences today. Ramirez stood by my side, silently
smirking the entire time. Though I couldn't tell if he was
impressed I'd thwarted the escape of a murderer on my own or angry
I'd gone after evidence on my own. In hindsight, I probably should
have clued him in. A sentiment I shared with him as the officers
finally cleared me to leave.

"I probably should have told you what I was
up to, huh?"

"You probably should have," he agreed. He
paused. "Though I probably should have known you were up to
something."