Double Play (17 page)

“
What?” Cat shook her head. “I just said that to get the bookie
to leave. I’m not really spending a perfectly good off day on a
smoky, skanky gaming ship.”

“
It
actually looks kinda neat.” He pulled her laptop over and typed in
the web address. “There’s shops and stuff. I was thinking we could
make a whole day of it, you know, hang out at the riverfront. We
never get a shared day off when the temperatures aren’t
subzero.”

Cat scrunched her
nose. “I don’t know.”

“
There’s a French restaurant.”

“
How
good could it be? I’ve never heard of it.”

“
Okay
then … there’s Lars, the Nordic God of Massage. You gonna leave him
hanging?”

“
Oh.”
A mischievous smile spread across her face. “Well, I don’t want to
be rude, I guess we could check it out.”

“
Oh
God, that feels good
,
”
Cat moaned. “Right there.”

She closed her
eyes and relaxed under the flutes of the tranquil, new-age
music.

“
You
are holding much tension in your neck muscles. Have you been under
stress lately?”

Cat would’ve
uttered a bitter little laugh, but the massage had temporarily
filled her with wellbeing. “You pay attention to sports,
Lars?”

“
I
like bandy.”

“
Bandy?” Cat had taken a Sports of the World class at Lincoln
State University, but none of the information she had picked up had
provided useful … until now. “That’s like hockey meets soccer,
right?”

He chuckled. “I
suppose you could say that. It is very popular in
Sweden.”

“
I’ll
have to check out a game next time I’m in Stockholm.”

“
It is
played outdoors in the wintertime. I suggest you dress warmly and
bring a thermos of Glögg.”

“
Hmm.
Sounds a lot like Bears’ games.”

“
So
you were referred by Maeve Webster?”

“
Maeve?” Cat giggled upon realization. “Oh, Webbs.
Yeah.”

“
She
is very nice.”

“
Yeah,
for a bookie, especially.”

The stereotype of
a thug wearing a dirty tank top and breaking kneecaps that Webbs
had mentioned was exactly what Cat had imagined. She had no idea
they came bold and beautiful.

“
She
told me you work for the Buffalo Soldiers?”

“
I’m
the team reporter.”

“
You
must know George Hudson then.”

“
The
owner? Of course.”

“
He’s
one of my clients.”

“
George Hudson comes to the Snow Bird?”

“
Oh
no, not anymore. I also make house calls.”

“
He ….” Cat’s ringtone interrupted the serene music. She
stiffened under Lars’ powerful hands. “That’s my
cellphone.”

“
Do
you need to answer it?”

She groaned.
“It’s right on the chair. Can you check the caller ID for
me?”

His hands left
her shoulders as he took a step away. “Uh-oh. Buffalo Police
Department. Do you—”

“
No.
It’s just this detective who wants to ask me all these questions
that I don’t have the answer to.”

“
Police trouble? I suppose you really do need a
massage.”

The pressure of
his strong hands reappeared on her upper back. Cat sunk into the
head hole in the massage table.

“
Tell
me Lars, what’s Swedish for nervous breakdown?”

“
Nervsammanbrott.”

“
Good
to know.”

“
My,
my. Don’t we clean up nicely?”

Cat turned at the
sound of the sultry voice.

“
Hi,
Webbs.” The bookie was wearing a fully sequined silver top, paired
with skinny, white leather pants and silver metallic wedges. She
fit in perfectly with the décor of the flashy casino. Cat suddenly
felt underdressed in only flats, black leggings and a gray tunic
tee, but Webbs didn’t seem to notice.

“
The
lovely Miss McDaniel. How was your one-on-one with Herr
Sjöberg?”

She could still
smell the leftover lavender remnants of Lars’ massage oil. “Just
what the doctor ordered. I wish I could make it a weekly thing.”
She looked down the glittery casino hallway. The hum of the slot
machines in the distance combined with the bright red carpet and
silver walls zapped what little tranquility that remained from her
massage. “Have you seen my fiancé? He said he was going to look for
the bingo room and meet me here as soon as I was done.”

“
I
haven’t but if you want I can tell the security guards to keep
their eyes peeled for a Professor Hottie.”

“
That’s him.”

“
No,
that’s him.” Webbs pointed behind her. “Does he always light up
like that when he sees you or should I be flattered?”

Cat turned around
to see Benji’s smile for herself. “Hi.” He gave her a kiss on the
cheek and nodded a hello to Webbs. “How was the spa?”

“
Very
nice.” She took a moment to take in the busy casino scene. “It’s
kinda hard to believe it’s located in here.”

Webbs crinkled
her nose. “I know this place is a little ‘People of Walmart,’ but
just wait until you see the chapel. I swear, it’s downright
romantic if you’re into that whole lifetime monogamy shebang.” She
checked her watch. “I need to skedaddle out of here but I’m glad we
got a chance to meet up again. I wanted to tell you not to worry
about your brother being one of my clients. I’m pretty good about
keeping things on the DL.”

Cat had a feeling
she wasn’t talking about the baseball definition of DL, which was
the disabled list. She took a cautious survey of the ship. “Somehow
I think that’s nothing compared to me spending my off day in front
of the sportsbook section of a gaming ship.”

“
Oh
please. Would G-Hud fire you for that?” Webbs scoffed and followed
it up with a conspiratorial giggle.

Cat turned to
Benji, who shrugged. She narrowed her eyes at Webbs. “What’s so
funny?”

“
Surely you know that before he owned the team, the G in G-Hud
stood for Gamer, Gambler or Ganked on any given day.”

“
What
do you mean? He came here?”

“
Nah,
this ship has only been in business for a few years. But I used to
work at a place down the river that’s own by the same guy and it
was nothing for him to come in and drop a hundred thou in one
night. And that was just here. Who knows what he was throwing at
the Seneca casinos?” Webbs tapped the red carpet with her shiny
toe. “He was singlehandedly responsible for that casino’s last
remodel. The man had a serious gambling addiction.”

Benji frowned and
asked Cat, “How does a guy like that buy a baseball
team?”

She shook her
head. “He didn’t. His dad, Milburn Hudson, owned the Soldiers but
he retired a few years ago and passed the team down to George. I
don’t understand how I’ve never heard this before. It’s pretty big
news.”

Webbs raised an
eyebrow. “I know you’re not that naïve. When you own the media, you
control what gets printed about your kids. G-Hud graduates from
VBU? Front page. G-Hud loses his monocle at the river casinos? That
doesn’t make the cut.”

Cat took Benji’s
arm, and explained, “Hudson Publications is better known by its
subsidiaries. It’s the parent company to the
Buffalo
Reporter
, the
Niagara News Herald
and the local
television station, B-TV.
”

“
Daddy
couldn’t broadcast to the whole world that his son was a compulsive
gambler,” Webbs added.

Cat sighed. “Why
do I keep being surprised by the cover-ups of the rich and
famous?”

“
Because you’re a doll, that’s why,” said Webbs. “Anyway, his
fat ass stays away since becoming head honcho of the team. It’s a
pity for the girls; I hear he was a good tipper. Of course, that
was before he got married.” She jabbed Benji in the ribs with her
elbow. “So when’s your big day? I wouldn’t leave this girl on the
market much longer. She’s almost as cute as her big
brother.”

“
Almost?” Cat tried to sound offended but even she knew it was
true. The sad fact was that Quinn had the brains to be a robotics
engineer, the looks to be a male runway model and the charm to be a
politician, yet he had settled for being nothing more than a petty
swindler.

Webbs winked at
her.

Benji shifted his
feet and put his arm around Cat. “We haven’t set a date
yet.”

Webbs bit a dark
red lip and frowned. “Ooh, that’s not a good sign.” She gave Cat a
sideways look. “What’s up with that? There’s four Saturdays in
June. How hard can it be to pick one?”

“
June’s my busiest time of year, unless we want to honeymoon in
a dugout.”

“
So
get married in the winter. Poinsettias are pretty
enough.”

“
We’ve
got to work around Benji’s schedule. He’s a biology professor at
VBU.”

“
He’s
got a winter break, doesn’t he?” Webbs looked to Benji for
confirmation.

“
I’ll
let you know if we need a wedding planner,” Cat snapped.

A smile twitched
at Webbs’ lips. “Kitty likes to scratch.” She pulled a business
card out of her bra strap and twisted it in her fingers as she
presented it to Benji. “In case you’re looking for a place to have
your bachelor party, we have a gentleman’s club here on the ship,
too.”

Cat intercepted
the card. “Don’t need a party planner, either.”

Webbs put her
hands up defensively. “Okay, okay, I can take a hint. I’m late for
a business meeting as it is. Check ya later,
Bride-nilla.”

“
Did
she mean Bridezilla?” Cat said.

“
No,
Bridezillas want everything just so. I think she meant you’re not
exactly champing at the bit to get out of the starting gate,” Benji
said.

Cat sprinted
through the ballpark gates and ran for the guarded door to the
press box stairs, flashing her credentials at the security guard.
He took his time finding her name on his clipboard and was equally
deliberate checking off her name. She bounced on her heels as she
waited for him to open the door and when he finally did so, she
darted up the stairs and into press box, desperately seeking a
familiar face in the crowd of national reporters. She wiggled
through the back row, relieved when she saw Spencer waving at her
from the corner.

“
Cat,
over here! Where the hell have you been? You missed the pregame
conference with the skipper.”

“
I
know, I know. My flight was delayed getting out of Buffalo and then
took an extra half hour landing at O’Hare because of fog or
something.”

“
Imagine that. I think I would’ve been more surprised if it had
been on time. Mine was delayed an hour and a half. That was longer
than the flight.”

She pulled out
her laptop and started setting up her makeshift workstation. “Thank
God I made it for the first pitch.”

“
Why
didn’t you come with the team last night?” He returned her blank
stare with a sheepish grin. “Never mind, I don’t blame you.”
Flipping through his computer files and clicking a few quick
keystrokes, he added, “I just emailed you a wav file of the
interview from my recorder.”

Cat smiled
gratefully. “Spencer—”

“
I
know. I’m totally awesome and you’re going to leave that nerd
you’re marrying for me … a slightly less nerdy nerd.”

Before she could
respond, her cellphone buzzed with an email alert. She saw the
thirty minute-long file in an attachment and smiled at him. “I
guess I’ve got a type.” She waved the email notification at him and
leaned in for a whisper
,
“The few reporters I do know here are giving me the cold shoulder.
Nobody wants to be seen with the girl who took out two Soldiers.
And the Chicago media, well … they keep looking at me like I’m
a lobster in the tank at Viking’s. They feel sorry for me, but they
gotta eat.”

“
Cat,”
Spencer pursed his lips in cautious deliberation, “you have to
understand that while you get paid to write fluff about the
team—”

“
Hey!”

“
I
just mean, your job is to focus on the positives, but it’s
different for reporters from outside outlets. Our editors expect us
to bring them something juicy every single day. It’s exhausting.
I’d kill for your job.”

“
Maybe
you should go ahead and submit your résumé. I hear there might be
an opening soon enough.”

“
I
actually applied last fall.”

She cocked her
head. “What?”

“
Yup.
I had an interview with Roger and everything.” He smiled. “But you
beat me fair and square.”

The National
Anthem started up. Cat squeezed his arm and took a deep
breath.

“
Game
three, here we come.”