Double Play (21 page)

He
took a deep breath and pushed his ear against the door. Whatever was outside didn’t
want him to know it.  He peered through the peephole and saw nothing but a
shadow of movement.

The
baseball bat slipped out of his damp hands and crashed against the tile floor
as loud as a fire alarm. “Shit!”  

“J.D.?”

“Halee?”
He kicked the bat out of the way and threw open the door.

She
fell into his arms. He gripped her body tight to his strong chest and breathed
in the sweet smell of the woman he loved.

“Halee,
Baby, you’re home.” He rained kisses down her neck. “When did you get back?”

“A
couple of hours ago.” She pulled his body tighter. “I dreamed about this every
day,” she said. “Uncle Gus told me what you did. He told me you went after Ty…
he told me they shot you….”

“It’s
okay, Honey,” he whispered against her hair. “Everything’s okay now.” He pulled
her into the apartment and locked the door behind her. “Let me get a look at
you,” he said, holding her at arm’s length. He pushed her hair back from her
face and stared into her eyes, searching for any sign of pain or illness. A
hint of sadness drooped at the tips of her eyelids as if what she’d seen would
forever cloud her vision. All the innocence and wonder in her expression that
had thrilled him to the core were gone.  It was clear in that moment that Halee
McCarthy would never be the same woman again.

He
ran both hands down her arms, fighting a new wave of despair.  

“I’m
fine,” she assured him. But her eyes said something different.

He
kissed her once, then twice, desperate for the taste of her, searching for the
Halee he used to know.

She
pushed away. “I’m okay. Really.” She caught sight of his bruised shoulder and
gasped. “Oh, my God, J.D.!” she exclaimed, running her fingertips lightly along
the red and purple flesh. “What happened?”

“Nothing,”
he lied. “Just ran into my locker.”

“But
that’s the shoulder…”

He
caught her sentence in a kiss. There was no way he would add to the worry that
was already overwhelming her. This was one lie worth telling. His lips trailed
from her mouth to her throat. Gently he pulled back on the scarf she’d wrapped
around her neck. “I hate the person who did this to you,” he murmured, tracing
her scar.

“Hating
her won’t change anything, J.D. It’ll only make you bitter.”

He
kissed the red stripe across her throat tenderly. “No one will ever hurt you
again, Halee, I swear it. Not you, not Ty.” He kissed her gently, then with the
urgency he had felt since the night on Sam’s boat. “Stay,” he murmured against
her lips.

She
shook her head.  “I can’t. Ty is alone with Uncle Gus and I don’t know if I can
trust him to wake up if he cries.”

“Then
I’ll come to you.”

Halee
let her fingers glide across J.D.’s bristled chin. “You would do that?”

J.D.
smiled. “Baby, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

***

Halee
woke to the sound of the shower and Ty racing his walker across the wooden
floor and into the edges of every piece of expensive antique furniture in her
bedroom. A minute later she was coherent enough to recall the bliss of sleep in
J.D.’s arms, enough emotional reinforcement to keep her strong for the coming
week. There was a note on the pillow next to hers.

Your
son is bathed, fed and dressed for the day. Come kiss me.

No
need to ask twice. She leapt from under the down comforters and pushed open the
double doors to the luxurious bathroom. Through the misty steam she could just
make out the perfect form of J.D.’s naked hard body behind the glass shower
enclosure. He turned. She gasped. In another minute she was under the water
with him, memorizing every inch of his body with her lips. He was gentle,
careful with her as if she were a china doll that would easily break.

She
reached down, guiding him closer.

“Are
you sure?” he asked, his eyes full of concern.

“I’m
sure,” she whispered against his lips.

“What
if we make another baby?”

“I
want your baby,” she said. “I don’t want to wait another day.”

He
slid inside her carefully, watching her expression. She sighed.

“Too
rough?”

Halee
broke into a grin. “You fill me perfectly.”

J.D.
groaned. “You make me crazy, you know that? You’re all I think about.” He
lifted her, bracing her against the shower wall. “I want you so bad!”

“J.D.!”
she protested. “Your shoulder!”

“What
shoulder?” He smiled against her lips. This was the playful J.D. she’d fallen
in love with a year before. His gentle rhythm was driving her need to
unbearable. She was so close.

Ty
came crashing through the door, spotted his two favorite people on the other
side of the shower glass and commenced to scream.

“Just
a minute, Ty. Mommy’s… Mommy’s so close.” But she wasn’t. Not anymore.

“Everything
okay in there?” Uncle Gus shouted from somewhere on the other side of Halee’s
bedroom.

Halee
cried out and grabbed a towel, twisting out of J.D.’s embrace.  J.D. began to
laugh. “Yes!” she shouted. “Just in the shower. Ty’s fine.”

“Breakfast
is ready,” said Gus.

“Okay!”

Ty
continued to scream.

“Want
me to come get him?”

“No!”
Now Halee was laughing.

J.D.
shut off the water and grabbed a towel of his own. “To be continued,” he said,
planting a wet kiss on her neck.

“As
soon as possible,” she added, countering with a deep, passionate kiss.

She
opened the shower doors and Ty immediately ceased his tantrum. “I think he’s
got you trained,” said J.D.

“What
about you?” asked Halee seductively. “Are you trained?”

“Like
a Pavlov dog.”

It
was a shame that Marcus’ limo was designed with glass between the driver and
the passengers. It wasn’t that Halee wasn’t delighted to see Marcus again. No
one could come close to the positive energy Marcus emanated at 6 A.M., no one.
It’s just that sitting across from J.D. all pimped out in a silk shirt and wool
slacks tailored to hug every muscle of his hard thighs was making her slightly,
well, insane with desire.

To
top it off, Uncle Gus had insisted that he would look after Ty while she went
to work, never leave him out of his sight. And then he’d pulled out a Glock
from his suitcase to prove his point, leaving her with no guilt about leaving
her child behind and no child to run interference between her libido and her
duty.

“So
which apartment do you want to take,” asked J.D., “yours or mine?”

She
raised her brows and smiled a wicked little grin. “You’re moving in?”

“Is
that a problem?”

Halee
let her eyes drop over J.D.’s fine body and sighed. “When will I sleep?”

J.D.
laughed. “I can promise you food, shelter and protection, but not sleep.”

“How
about sex?” she whispered, glancing at Marcus’s eyes in the rear view mirror.
His expression remained passive but he leaned in and turned up the radio.

“Plenty
of sex,” said J.D. “Just not right now. The Federals trainers are putting us on
a strict sex diet, as in no sex until the Series is over.”

“What
if your girlfriend threatens suicide?”

“Not
a chance. She has too much to look forward to.”

“Confident,
are we?”

“Very
confident.”

Halee
leaned over and gave J.D. a sweet kiss. “Just one of the things I love about
you.”

“I
can’t wait to hear about all the other things,” murmured J.D. against her lips.
“Coming to my game tonight?”

“Wouldn’t
miss it.”

“I’ll
make sure you get the tickets.”

“Do
you think it’s okay to take Ty out into public? I mean, do you think he’s in
any danger?”

“No
problem. New York’s finest just happen to have the seats behind you.”

“What
about in front of me?”

“Bobby’s
a Cubs fan. It wasn’t an ethical decision for him to come out and help.”

Halee
laughed. “Maybe he can drive home with Uncle Gus. That’s a long trip for an old
man.”

“Not
one with a Glock.”

***

Halee
plopped down in her office chair and stared with disbelief at the stack of work
on her desk. She’s only been gone two weeks, and already she felt a month
behind. If she wanted to get to the game on time, she’d have to buckle down and
plow through this paperwork. No lunch today.

It
was going to be hard to concentrate on work after sharing a shower with J.D. The
tender way he’d treated her had brought tears to her eyes. She licked her lips,
recalling the taste of the kiss in the limo. Was she dreaming, or were the man
of her dreams and the life she’d always wanted really within reach?

About
an hour into the pile, she looked up and met Victoria Pryor’s stare. “Back on
time. I appreciate it, Halee. We’ve lost ground with you out.”

“Yes,
Ma’am.”

“You
look rested.”

“I’m
feeling stronger, thank you.”

“The
child is back?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”
Victoria plopped into the chair across from her desk. “We have a lot of work to
do. I want to build on the momentum you started at J.D.’s engagement party. Jack
Keeting has offered to host a fundraiser at his penthouse. He insists you plan
the event.” She raised one brow. “Something going on between you and Jack?”

“No,
Ma’am.”

“Jack
is quite selective about his women,” said Victoria.

“I
wouldn’t know.”

“He
says you have his number.”

“I
have his business card, yes.”

“And
his personal number?”

“In
case of an emergency.” Halee removed her jacket. It was getting hot in here.
She started to unwrap her neck scarf, then hesitated. She didn’t want to tell
the story one more time, didn’t want to relive the nightmare.

“When
I was your age, I used to think I had to sleep my way to the top.”

Halee
frowned. “What are you implying, Mrs. Pryor?”

Victoria
smiled a dirty little smile and turned to go. “Just be careful.”

It
took Halee several minutes to quiet her urge to march into Victoria Pryor’s
office and resign. Instead she walked briskly to the mail room and delivered a
stack of signed contracts to the young clerk on duty. On the way back, she took
a tight corner at double speed and ran straight into the arms of Jack Keeting.

He
held her a little too long. “I’d write you a citation for reckless hall
walking,” he murmured against her neck, “if I wasn’t so delighted to see you.”

Halee
stepped back and smoothed her dress. “Sorry, Mr. Keeting.”

“Jack,”
he corrected.

The
cotton scarf around her neck dipped down, revealing the thick red scar she’d
tried so hard to hide. She moved to wrap it tighter.

Jack
caught her hand. “I see you’ve been associating with the wrong crowd.” He reached
up and touched the wound lightly, his tired eyes full of concern. “Did you get
my flowers?”

Halee
looked away. “Yes, thank you.”

“How
are you feeling?” His voice was soft, soothing.

“Stronger.”

“The
child turned out to be more trouble than you expected. As did your ballplayer.”

Halee
pulled in a deep breath. “Mrs. Pryor tells me you would be interested in
hosting a charity event,” she said lightly. “We should make an appointment to
go over the details.”

“How
about now? You can come see the penthouse. I’d like to show it to you.  I want
you in my life, Halee.”

“I
can’t leave the office. I’m way behind…”

“Surely
Victoria will understand.”

“J.D.
won’t.” The words escaped her before she could catch them. Her eyes met his and
held them.

“He’s
returned to you then.” Jack’s eyes defied her response. “For how long this
time, Halee?”

“I
don’t really care to discuss…”

“He’s
a driver, Halee. He’ll do anything to get what he wants and then when he has
it, it loses its luster.” Jack moved closer and lowered his voice. “He’ll leave
you, Halee. Just like all the women before you, he’ll leave you.”

An
overwhelming rush of emotion filled her throat, cutting off her windpipe. She
wanted to cry, but she wouldn’t do it, not in front of Jack Keeting. Pushing
her way past him, she headed for the nearest exit and burst out onto the
streets of Manhattan, sucking in the thick city air as if she’d just run a
marathon. Storm clouds were forming overhead, anxious to release an icy rain
from an early October sky. She kicked off her high heels and broke into a run
through block after block of crowded streets, bolting across traffic as if she
didn’t care whether she lived or died.  Five miles later, wet and cold, her
anger and fear were under control. Then, leaning against the granite façade of
the nearest skyscraper, she cast her eyes toward heaven and prayed Jack’s words
were nothing but lies.

“Where
is your husband?”

Victoria
Pryor glanced over her shoulder at the usual crowd forming in the Federals
owner’s skybox. “Missing. How fortunate.”

Tony
smiled and surveyed the field. The formality of national anthem and first pitch
had all been taken care of. The home team Federals had taken the field under a
bank of rain clouds and were tossing a ball back and forth to loosen up. J.D.
was avoiding outfield flies, letting Simone cover both left and center fields.

Tony
frowned. “Have you thought about what I said?” he asked.

“I
know what I’m doing, King.”

“Clearly
not or Shaw would be on the bench.”

Victoria
sighed and glanced over her shoulder for a waiter with a fresh drink. “I don’t
have an interest in a long term relationship with J.D. Shaw. I need him to
close out the season, nothing more.”

“Then
why all the fuss about the fiancé?”

“I
like Halee,” Victoria said with a slight lift of her painted red lips. “I wanted
her to win.”

“You
knew about them from the start?”

“Darling,
I always do background checks on my players. Why do you think I staged his
contract signing at the literacy benefit?”

King
shook his head. “You ruin Shaw’s future, you ruin Halee’s future.”

“I’m
hardly responsible for the rest of her life. J.D. is a commodity. Strictly
business.”

“Bad
business.”

Victoria
groaned. “I wouldn’t expect you to agree, King. You’re his agent.”

“An
agent understands talent. John is a thoroughbred. You don’t run a thoroughbred
to death to win one race; you calculate his value long term. He’s young. He’ll
win you five World Series rings if you play your cards right.”

“He
lied about his contract,” said Victoria. “He needs to learn a lesson.”

“I
was the one who lied,” said Tony. “Punish me.”

“Hmm.
Sounds like fun.”

“John
always believed in his immortality.”

“Maybe
he’s right.”

“His
trainers agree with me. They’re gearing up to pay you a visit.”

Victoria
rolled her eyes and gulped down a glass of white wine. “Doesn’t anyone respect
authority anymore?”

“Victoria,
how long have we known each other?”

“In
what capacity?” she asked with a devilish grin.

“Business.”

“I
believe it’s been ten years, give or take a few months.”

“You
know what I’ve admired most about you during that time?”

Victoria
glanced behind them. “Lower your voice, Darling.”

Tony
chuckled. “You never let emotion get in the way of a good business decision.
Shaw misled you, but he didn’t do it to rob you blind. He did it for a chance
to play in the major leagues. He wanted to be a Federal.”

“He
lied to me. I’ll bring him to his knees, show him who’s boss.”

“You’ll
be the loser, Victoria.  Another team will pick him up and in the meantime he’ll
go back to Oklahoma and be the home town hero.”

Victoria’s
phone rang. She checked caller i.d. and smiled a crazy little smile. “Or I’ll
break him both ways. Mr. Long!” She slid her cold blue eyes toward Tony. “I
appreciate you returning my call. I understand you’re selling your ranch and
I’m interested in making an offer.”

Art
Pryor entered the skybox and made his way through the crowd, pausing at the
bar. He studied his wife’s proximity to Tony with a frown. Tony nodded and
squirmed in his seat.  Art approached from behind and placed one hand on
Victoria’s shoulder. “How are we doing?”

“First
inning,” said Tony casually, leaning away from Victoria. “No score.”

“Victoria
Pryor. From New York. No, I haven’t seen the land,” she said to the caller,
placing her hand over Art’s and smiling up at him. “But I understand it’s a
very nice property.”

“What’s
she up to?” asked Art softly.

Tony
kept his eyes on the field. “She’s trying to buy a ranch out from under one of
your players.”

“Which
one?”

“Shaw.”

“I
thought he was on rest. What’s he doing at bat?”

“I’ve
been asking the same question.”

Victoria
disconnected. “Stubborn old coot,” she said to the phone. “I’m offering him
cash and he won’t give me the time of day.”

“We
already have two ranches,” said Art. “We don’t need a third.”

“I
don’t want the land,” said Victoria. “Just call it leverage.”

“I
call it blackmail.” Art slid into the seat next to Victoria’s and slugged down half
his drink. “Shaw’s the best player I’ve seen in years. I don’t like the way
you’re playing with my investment.”

“He
doesn’t see himself as an investment, Darling. He sees himself as a free agent
and he does whatever he pleases. I can’t control him.”

“We’re
up one game in the Series, Shaw just hit a double, and you think you need to
change things? Let it go, Victoria.”

“I
can’t.”

Art
motioned to a man by the bar. The man walked over. “Tell Carter to pull Shaw. I
want him rested for game three.” The man nodded and disappeared.

“Don’t
worry,” said Art, kissing Victoria’s palm. “I’ll tell everyone it was your
brilliant decision when Shaw gives us the Series.”

***

The
fourth inning had just begun when Halee took her seat behind the batter’s box
next to Uncle Gus. Bobby was one row down, munching on his second hot dog of
the game and heckling the Hawks batters. Six stone faced military types filled
in the row behind them. Halee settled Ty on her lap and sighed. “It’s freezing,
Uncle Gus.”

“It’s
October,” he said with a smile. “I got my bags all packed. Bobby and I are
gonna head out tomorrow morning, do a little fishing in the Catskills on the
way back to Chicago.”

“Can’t
you stay a few more days? J.D. leaves for St. Louis tomorrow and I’ll be all
alone.”

“You
see that line of tanks behind you?” asked Gus. “They’re setting up shop in the
lobby of your apartment building. I expect they can do a lot more damage than
old Uncle Gus.”

She
pulled her Federals stocking cap lower across her ears. “Where’s J.D.?” she
asked, scanning the field.

“They
pulled him last inning,” said Bobby. “Now I can relax and watch the game.”

“What
happened? Is he alright?”

“I
don’t know,” said Bobby. “He just didn’t come out after the second inning. They
put Talmey in center field. He’s dropping everything that comes his way.”

Halee
pulled out her cell phone and began texting J.D.

“You
can’t call him,” said one of the men behind her. “Players can’t take calls
during games. Protects the team against illegal bets.”

Halee
blew out a frustrated breath and glanced behind her in search of a hot dog
vendor. She’d skipped lunch trying to catch up with her work. Jack’s dire warnings
about J.D. had ruined her appetite after that. Now back in good company, she
realized just how low her blood sugar had really sunk. She was still recovering
from losing the baby and after this morning’s hot shower scene, she was anxious
to get pregnant again. This love for J.D. was overwhelming her and firing up
her primal need to procreate. Nutrition was her friend. Scanning the stadium
for food opportunities, she landed on a familiar face and caught her breath.

Catrina
Hiett sat between two well-dressed men, each vying for her attention. She was
dressed in a fur lined camel colored raincoat with matching fedora and tall
leather boots. Her makeup was perfect, her blonde hair curled and sprayed. She
crossed her long legs and pretended to listen to her suitors while she stared
with viper intensity at Halee.

Halee
quickly looked away. She held Ty tighter. He whined and struggled to release
himself from her arms.

“What’s
the matter?” asked one of the men behind her. “You look like you just saw a
ghost.”

“I
did,” said Halee softly. She could feel Cat’s steely eyes burning holes into
the back of her head like an episode from the sci-fi channel. Cat radiated
evil. Halee’s heart pounded in her chest. She willed herself not to look.

Ty
screamed. “Give him to me,” said Uncle Gus.

“Hot
dogs! Get your dogs here!” Halee heard the vendor walking down the stairs behind
her and turned in her seat to signal her interest. Her eyes met Cat’s again.

Cat
rose from her seat and crooked one finger, beckoning Halee to meet her in the
aisle. Halee turned back and tightly closed her eyes.

“You
want a dog?” asked the vendor.

Halee
fumbled for her purse. “Yes. Two,” she said. “Uncle Gus? Bobby?”

“Yeh,
I’ll take two,” said Bobby.

Uncle
Gus shifted Ty higher on his lap. “None for me. I could use a beer, though.”

Halee
handed the vendor a twenty dollar bill and bit into her dog with nervous
energy. She tried to focus on the game, but all she could think about was Cat
somewhere behind her, plotting her demise. She was just about to start on the
second dog when the man beside her nudged her and pointed to the end of the
row.  Cat stood in the aisle, staring at her with those eerie green eyes.

“Who’s
that?” asked Gus.

“No
one.” Halee handed him her dog. “I’ll be right back.”  She slid out toward the
aisle.

“We
need to talk,” said Cat, leading Halee up the stairs toward neutral ground. One
of the NYPD tanks followed.

Halee
hesitated. “We don’t have anything to talk about, Catrina. Leave me alone.
Leave J.D. alone.”

“That’s
the thing, Honey,” said Catrina in her Texan drawl. “I’m not ready to leave
anything alone just yet. J.D. lied to me. He owes me.”

“I
doubt it…”

“See
those two gents over there?” asked Catrina, pointing to the two chairs flanking
her empty seat. “One of them works for the New York Times, the other is my
attorney. I’m done talking with them. Now they’d like to talk to you.”

Halee
fixed her eyes on Cat’s. Her skin crawled. “What are you up to?”

“Miss
McCarthy?” Halee felt a hand on her back. “Ken Draves from the New York Times.
May I ask you a few questions?”

Halee
glanced at the undercover cop watching her closely two steps down. “No. I mean,
I don’t know what Miss Hiett’s told you, but I’m sure it’s all lies.”

“Then
you’ll be willing to give me your side of the story.”

“What
story are you talking about?”

“What’s
your relationship with Mr. Shaw?”

“J.D.?
We’re friends.”

“Good
friends,” said Cat. “Makin’ babies friends.”

Halee
glared at her.

“Did
J.D. Shaw sign a contract with the Federals knowing about his injury?”

“You’d
have to ask Mr. Shaw,” said Halee, holding Cat’s eyes with hers. “I never read
his contract. And I can guarantee you neither did Catrina Hiett.”

“But
he is injured?”

“His
shoulder is sore,” said Halee. “From what I hear, the whole team is sore by the
end of the season.”

“Did
J.D.’s problems begin before or after his contract with the Federals?”

Halee
thought back to the North Shore Literacy fundraiser, how J.D. had cradled his
shoulder at the event and again on Sam’s boat. “I don’t have the time
perspective to make that judgment.”

“What
do you mean?”

“I
mean I don’t know when the contract was signed.”

“When
is the first time you knew he had a shoulder injury?”

“Why
do I feel like I’m on the witness stand?”

“I
suggest you prepare yourself, Miss McCarthy. You might likely be.”

“What’s
your interest in this, Mr. Draves?” asked Halee. “This seems like an internal
matter with the Federals, if it’s a matter at all.”

“Fraud
is always interesting, don’t you think, Miss McCarthy?”

“You’re
barking up the wrong tree. J.D. is the most honest man I know.”

Draves
smiled. “Thank you for your time.”