Double Play (18 page)

Every
light in the apartment was on when he entered. Some version of electronic club
music vibrated through the apartment’s stereo system. A strange aftershave, one
he never wore, permeated the space. He dropped his keys on a table by the
entrance and headed to the kitchen in search of a stiff drink and painkillers. Cat
came strolling out from the back bedrooms wearing nothing but a sheer robe
edged in white fur and matching high heels. He could smell her perfume across
the room. She paused in the doorway, cocked one hip, and waited for him to
notice.

“Put
something on, Cat,” he said in a tired voice.

“It’s
the night of our engagement party, Baby,” she cooed. “I thought you’d want to
celebrate.”

“Game’s
over, Cat,” he said. “Deal’s done. You can pack your things and go home.”

She
moved a little closer. “Maybe I don’t want to go home.” She untied her robe,
letting skin hit air, and stood dangerously near. “Where’ve you been?” she
asked casually.

“I
told you, at the hospital.”

She
stroked his arm. “I called the hospital. You weren’t there.”

“Then
you called the wrong hospital.” J.D. rubbed his eyes. “I don’t want to do this
right now, Cat. Leave me be.”

She
slid onto the bar stool next to him, letting the robe fall away from her
generous breasts, and spread her legs wide, leaning closer.

“I
ain’t in the mood, Cat,” J.D. warned.

“The
J.D. I know is always in the mood,” she purred.

“That
life’s over.”

“I
can make you change your mind.”

J.D.
gulped down half a tumbler of gin. “Don’t think so.”

“I
talked to Tony,” she said, continuing to glide her fingers along his muscular
frame. “He told me the whole story.”

J.D.
spit a piece of ice back into his glass. “I ain’t surprised. Tony loves nothin’
better than to wallow like a pig in the mud.”

“Maybe
he’s happy for us.” Cat dragged her claws across J.D.’s neck, then followed
with her ruby red lips. “Maybe he’s happy Halee’s little trick didn’t work. Uh,
Oh,” she sang. “Baby died…”

J.D.
shoved away and circled the counter. “You’re sicker than I thought, you know
that?”

Cat
laughed a dirty little laugh. “You want to know what’s sick?” she said, narrowing
her eyes. “You’d rather fuck that little whore than me!”

“I
told you the deal is over. I want you out by the time I get back tomorrow!” He
headed for the back of the apartment.

“Not
so fast, Federal Boy!” said Cat, following him down the hall. “I’m going to
need a little something to keep me quiet.”

“You
got what we agreed to, Cat. Take your greedy little ass back to Daddy.”

“I
changed my mind. I’m going to need more incentive to keep your secrets from
hitting the front page.”

 “I
don’t care what you tell or who you tell it to, Cat. I just want you gone.”

“I’ll
tell the Federals about your shoulder. I’ll tell them how you lied to sign that
contract. I’ll tell them everything!”

“Be
my guest.”

“I’m
glad your baby died!” she screamed.

J.D.
turned on her, inching closer with the look of a murderer in his eye. She
backed up one stiletto at a time. “If you were a man, I’d punch you right now.”

“Go
ahead!” she spit. “You’re nothing but trash.  Mexican trash raised by white
trash. Go ahead and hit me!”

J.D.
stared at her, breathing heavily.

“Yeah,
I know you’re a dirty Mexican. Wiley told me everything,” she said. “Right
after he fucked me!”

J.D.
slammed his bedroom door and headed for the shower.

“Blood,
J.D.! You’re gonna pay in blood for how you’ve treated me,” she sobbed.

J.D.
locked the bathroom door and stood under a hot shower till the sound of Cat’s
tantrum faded in the water’s white noise. Cat’s words had stung, mostly because
some of them were true. He’d been willing to do anything to reach the top, setting
up a string of lies that had left more than a few victims in its wake. He’d
paid the price, losing the love of his life and the child they shared, but he
hadn’t been the only one to suffer. It was time to right the wrongs.

He
dried off and took a deep breath. Reaching for his phone, he speed dialed Victoria
Pryor’s office and left a message. “Mrs. Pryor,” he began, “this is J.D. Shaw.
I need an audience with you and the board this afternoon. I have a few confessions
to make.”

Victoria
Pryor smiled at her Blackberry and congratulated herself on a hard won victory.
“You were right from the beginning, Darling,” she purred into her phone. “J.D.
might be the most stubborn player to come along in years, but the great ones are
always difficult. With my star centerfielder focused on his future, the Federals
are sure to win the pennant.” 

“Focus
might prove to be the hard part,” said King. “Halee’s gone missing.”

“What
do you mean missing? She miscarried last night. A woman can’t just get up the
next day and disappear.”

“I
called the hospital this morning to check on her. I was abruptly told that
Halee McCarthy was no longer a patient.”

“How
can you discharge a woman who’s just lost her child?”

“There’s
a new paradigm in healthcare,” said Tony. “It’s called profit.”

“Clearly.”

“She
can’t be far. I’m pulling some strings with NYPD to locate her.”

Victoria
sighed. “She could be anywhere. You’re forgetting that Halee can be as stubborn
as her lover.”

“Former
lover. That’s the other thing getting in the way. She’s written J.D. off.”

“Don’t
be ridiculous. They were meant to be together, even if they are the last to
know. She’s hurting, and rightfully so. He’ll beg her forgiveness and we’ll all
live happily ever after.”

“I
need my client to have his head in the game. I don’t have all season. The
playoffs start in a few days. I need a fast resolution.”

 “Then
find her.”

“There’s
a complication. Social Services took the child away. The mother resurfaced in
Chicago.”

“Oh,
for heaven’s sake! This is getting worse by the minute.”

“Apparently
the mother has a good excuse for disappearing. Claims her brother was into some
bad shit and she needed to keep the baby safe for a while. The judge is likely
to award her custody again.”

Victoria
sighed. “Halee loved that child so dearly. You’re right. This complicates
things.” She tapped a pen on her glass desk and gazed over the morning skyline.
“Perhaps we can convince the mother to disappear again.”

 “She’s
likely to do that on her own,” said Tony. “The question is, how soon, and will
she leave the kid behind?”

“Perhaps
we can persuade her in our favor.”

“I’ll
see what I can do.”

“Splendid.
And find Halee while you’re at it. I have a charity to run.”

Victoria
disconnected and began to dial another number when Cat burst through her door.

 “He’s
a liar and a cheater and he’s scammed you all along!” Cat was looking more
devilish than ever in a bright red jumpsuit and black boots. By the looks of
her dark eye circles and dry lips, she was also hung over.

Victoria
leaned back in her executive chair. “Hello, Catrina.”

“You
need to fire his ass!” Cat shouted, pacing across the Persian rugs. “He lied to
you! We were never gonna get married! It was all a plot to get a Federals
contract!”

“Yes,
I know,” said Victoria calmly.

Cat
gasped. “Well, ain’t that fraud? Shouldn’t you take him to court or something?”

Victoria
studied her for a moment. “Let me ask you something,” she said with one finger
on her chin. “When did you know about this little scheme?”

“She’s
innocent.” J.D. came through the door, hat in hand, looking tired and troubled.
“The whole thing was my idea, Mrs. Pryor. Cat had nothing to do with it.”

“That’s
right!” said Cat, glaring at J.D. “For once, he’s telling the truth.”

“That’s
very chivalrous of you, J.D.,” said Victoria, “but a little hard to believe. In
fact, I believe it’s you I should be filing fraud charges against, Catrina.”

Cat
gasped. “I ain’t the one who took a $750,000 sign-on bonus!”

“But
you took a cut for your services, didn’t you? In fact, I’m willing to wager
that the reason you’re so angry is that your bargain with J.D. has come to an
end. Isn’t that right?”

Cat
stared at J.D., mad enough to chew nails.

“Show
a little class, Miss Hiett,” said Victoria. “He’s chosen someone else. I
suggest you go quietly and preserve whatever dignity you have left.”

Cat
hesitated.

“Or
we can pursue this with my attorney.”

Cat
stared hard at J.D., her eyes wet with tears. “You ain’t heard the last from
me,” she spit. Turning on her spike heels, she slammed the door behind her.

Victoria
gazed on J.D. a full minute. “How uncomfortable. But then, the last few days
have been more than uncomfortable for you, haven’t they?”

“Yes,
Ma’am.”

“Why
aren’t you at practice?” she asked.

“I
reckoned I owed you an apology. Thought that ought to come first.”

“First?”

J.D.
slid a piece of paper across Victoria’s desk. “Before my resignation.”

Victoria
shoved it back without reading it. “Not accepted.”

“Mrs.
Pryor…”

Victoria
held up one hand. “J.D., you’re young and impulsive and more driven than most
players I’ve come in contact with. Luckily you’re worth the trouble. You made
that clear on the field yesterday. I would have done the same thing in your
shoes. Although I probably would have chosen a different type of person…”

“That’s
not what I’m here for, Mrs. Pryor. I lied about my fiancé, I lied about Cat,
but I lied about something much bigger.”

“I’m
listening.”

 “My
right shoulder is injured. Messed it up the night we signed the contract. Doc
says I’ll need surgery once the season is through. I can’t guarantee I’ll be
one hundred per cent when it’s all over. I can’t even guarantee I’ll be able to
finish this season.”

“I
see.”

“I
broke the contract. I’ll return the money the first of the month, with
interest. I‘ll appreciate it if you don’t take me to court. Maybe I can still
get some work with a minor league team down the road.”

He
turned to go.

“J.D.”

He
turned back.

“You’re
right. You should have told us before we signed you on. So should your agent.”

“Yes,
Ma’am.”

“And
he did.”

J.D.
looked puzzled.

“Tony
King told me all about your shoulder injuries. He also told me you had more
heart and soul than any player he’d ever met, and even if you hurt that
shoulder further you’d die trying to deliver on your contract.” She smiled
slightly. “He was right. Underneath all that bravado and story stretching lies
a man worth believing in.” She leaned back in her chair and studied the
resignation letter for a moment. “On the other hand, a contract is a contract
and I don’t spend a million dollars lightly. We’ll need a new contract going
forward. That is, if you want to stay on the team.”

“Depends
on the conditions.”

“Ah,”
said Victoria with a smile. “Talent for business, as well. The conditions are
this. You play every game until the end of the season.”

“I
can’t guarantee my shoulder will last…”

“And
we win. We win the Series.”

“I’m
not the only player on the team, Mrs. Pryor. No one player can guarantee
victory.”

“You
can. I knew it the moment I first met you. You’ve got an iron will and the
talent to make it happen. Find a way to force the same out of everyone else on
the team.”

“You’re
asking the impossible.”

“Those
are the conditions, Mr. Shaw. Negotiations are in my favor. I have a signed
confession in my hand. You agree or I take you to court.”

J.D.
set his jaw and stood a little taller. “Anything else?”

 “Yes.
Get your rear end back to practice before I fine you for being late.”

“I
can’t do that, Ma’am. I have somewhere else I need to be.”

“Halee?”

“Yes,
Ma’am.”

Victoria
sighed and stared at the skyline. “You have three days to settle things, J.D. I
need you to report back to training two days before the first playoff game. Do
I have your word?”

J.D.
hesitated.

“We
need you to clinch this Series, J.D.”

“Halee
needs me more.”

“It’s
the best I can do,” Victoria said firmly. “If you don’t report to training by
Sunday evening, we go to court.”

J.D.
headed toward the door.

“Oh,
and J.D.,” said Victoria, “tell Halee to get back to work. She has a charity to
run.”

***

Rita
backed Uncle Gus’ truck into an empty space at a 7 Eleven directly across from
a housing project north of Midway Airport. Twenty years prior, the city of
Chicago had dedicated otherwise unusable land wedged between two freeways for
low income housing. The units had looked their best the first day of completion
and deteriorated every day since then. A chain link fence was the only barrier
separating small children from the thunder of passing trucks and did nothing at
all to keep out the noise or the filth kicked up by the steady stream of
traffic.

Rita
killed the engine. The two women sat in silence for a long moment, both
pondering the scene before them. It was hard to imagine Ty living in this
place, or anyone else, for that matter. Especially someone Halee loved so
deeply.

“Do
you think he’s here?” Halee asked.

“That’s
what Bobby told me,” said Rita.  “Said Chantrell’s been living with her brother
and his arrest records pin him to this address. You never know, though,” she
said, gazing out over the complex with a mixture of pity and disgust. “People
like Chantrell and her brother move all the time.” She blew out a deep breath
and looked over at Halee. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve
been better,” said Halee. “The blood just keeps coming. I go through a pad
every hour.” She reached behind the seat and pulled out a bag filled with extra
clothing. “Wait here. I need to change before I ruin Uncle Gus’s seats.”

“I’m
not letting you go in there alone.”

“Nothing’s
going to happen to me,” Halee assured her. “More likely, the truck will get
vandalized if you leave.”

“I
don’t like it.”

“I
don’t have a choice.” Halee slipped out of the truck. “Lock the door behind
me.”

“If
you’re not out in five minutes, I’m coming in,” said Rita.

“Relax.
I’ll be fine.”

A
group of women strolled back and forth in front of the store’s entrance,
talking on their cell phones, mostly complaining about bad boyfriends and
rehashing he said- she said arguments. A few looked like they were waiting for
some business to roll up. Others looked like they’d just come to gossip. Halee
kept her eyes down, knowing she was a fish out of water and in her condition, a
sitting duck. She’d left her purse in the truck on purpose, hoping to convince
anyone looking for trouble that she was a bad bet.  Still, her heart was
beating faster than usual.

She
made her way through the store and to the restroom, bag in hand. Glancing
behind her, she caught the eye of a woman who looked vaguely familiar. Was she
a former student at the literacy office? Maybe a customer at Benedetto’s Bar
and Grill. The woman eyed her suspiciously, and then looked away. Quickly,
Halee locked the door behind her and breathed a sigh of relief.

The
bleeding was worsening, leaking over the edges of the thick pad wedged into her
underwear and staining the fabric of her jeans. She sighed and shuddered
against the chill of the late September afternoon. In another few minutes she’d
be raging with fever, then dive back into a state of chills. She ought to be in
bed, sleeping off the assault on her body and on her heart. But she couldn’t
rest until she found her child.

Slowly,
carefully, she changed her underwear and jeans and slipped in a double layer of
protection. In another minute she’d convinced herself that she had the strength
to get to the sink. What she found there shocked her more than she cared to
admit. A thin, pale Halee stared back at her from the cracked mirror,
reflecting the kind of deep sadness she’d seen in her students’ eyes every day.
After all these years she finally understood. Poverty was not the lack of
material things. Poverty was the lack of hope. Losing J.D., Ty, and now her own
baby all at once had left her hopeless.

She
watched as one tear trickled down her pale cheek. This was the tipping point.
She would recover what was lost or sink so deep into despair that she would
never be the same again. She wiped away her tear, picked up her bag, and
unlocked the door.

Bam!
Her back cracked against the cold concrete wall with a powerful force. Her head
slammed against the hand dryer.  Her skull screamed; her vision blurred. She
tasted blood. An angry mob of screaming faces assaulted her, their breath hot
against her skin.

“Chantrell
don’t want you here!”

“Get
your white ass outa here before we kick your ass even further!”

“You
wanna live, you leave now!”

One
of the women rifled through her bag, holding up her bloody pants in disgust and
tossing them to the ground. “She ain’t got nothin’.”

 Her
breath came in short bursts; her legs were mush, unable to hold her. She slid
to the floor.

“She’s
sick,” someone said.

“Let’s
get outta here,” said another woman.

Halee
felt someone crouch down beside her and heard a switchblade open. She felt the
cold steel against her throat.

“You
stay away from Chantrell, you understand? That baby belongs to Chantrell.”

“Ty’s
mine,” Halee whispered. “I’ll find him and I’ll get him back.”

The
blade sliced through her tender skin, causing her to cry out. A warm trickle of
blood dripped down her neck. She breathed heavily, remaining still against the
cold steel.

“You
remember what I said.”

Halee
opened one eye and watched as the woman pushed off the floor. “I taught you to
read,” she said in a hoarse whisper.