Curveball (28 page)

“You don’t even know that Cristian is missing. He just didn’t show up at your meeting.”

“Or his job.”

“Still.”

She pursed her lips. “After seeing this, Chance doesn’t get the benefit of the doubt.”
She stole the mouse back and went to the agreements folder. “Do you recognize any
of the other names?”

“Other than Cristian and Gaspar Peralta? No.”

“Me, either.” She opened the desk drawer and scribbled the names down on a Post-it.
“I’m curious to see if any are in our minor league system.”

“Good—” He stopped and raised his head to the hallway, the color draining from his
face as his mouth fell open. “Cat.”

The hallway began to glow with bright yellow light. Their heads turned toward each
other and they shared a look of alarm.

“What is that?”

She shook her head slowly. “I don’t know. Passing car?”

“It’s not passing.” He shot up from the chair and peeked his head around the doorway
into the hallway. He waved her to follow.

She rounded the corner on his heels. The lobby was lit up even brighter.

Junior turned over his shoulder. “The parking lot. Someone’s here!”

A bang caused them both to jump. The noise filled her with dread.

A car door.

Junior turned around, recognition written on his face, too. Her eyes widened. He put
his finger to his mouth, shushing her.

They scaled the hallway, their bodies glued up against the wall as they inched toward
the lobby. She placed her hand on his arm before he rounded the corner. Feet scuffled
on the sidewalk a mere twenty feet away.

“Stay back. They’ll see you.”

Cat cringed and held her breath at the sound of scuffling at the door. Her heart pounded
as the thumping of footsteps became ever more pronounced. Her mind raced with plausible
excuses but each sounded flimsier than the last. She searched the other end of the
hallway for an exit but found nothing but solid wall. She looked up at the drop ceiling.
It’d be easy enough to get up there but there was no telling if the beams could support
them and besides, there wasn’t time. Her eyes darted back to the tiny office. They
could hide under Chance’s desk. It would be a tight fit. Junior was an athlete, but
with his muscles, definitely not a contortionist.

Contortionist
.

Chance was at the circus. It couldn’t be him, but maybe Worldwide Baseball Talent
Management did have more agents than just—

The footsteps began to fade. The wall behind them shook slightly as the neighboring
door slammed shut. The footsteps became muffled and then ceased.

Junior stole a quick look around the wall’s edge outside the lobby windows. “It’s
a van. The dry cleaner.”

She slumped against the wall. Placing her hand on his arm, she said, “Engine’s still
running. Probably just dropping off or picking up.”

He nodded. They stayed there with their backs against the wall; their breathing still
coming in short, shallow pants. Junior’s right hand felt for hers, still locked on
his left arm. She hadn’t realized she’d left it there. He wrapped his fingers around
hers.

The shuffling of footsteps sounded again and the walls shook again as the door was
slammed tight. The lock clicked shut with a dull thud. The footsteps got louder as
they passed by the lobby and the car door banged shut. The lights arched across the
hallway to the lobby and disappeared.

Cat breathed a sigh of relief.

Junior pulled her in for a hug in the dark hallway.

She rested her head on his strong shoulder. “That was a close one.”

He wrapped his arms around her lower back. “I can feel your heart pounding from here.”

She could feel his, too, a definite sign they were too close once again. She stepped
back, unlocking herself from the embrace.

“We should get out of here before anyone else comes.”

She hurried back to Chance’s office and ripped off the Post-it, making sure to take
the blank few pages behind it, just in case her scribbles had left telltale indentations.
She carefully placed the neon pad back in his drawer. The computer was still whirring,
wide awake and ready to share more information.

“Let me just shut off ol’ Bessie here and we’ll get out of dodge.”

Junior grabbed her hand before it reached the power button. “Wait. What about his
password?”

“What about it?”

“You changed it. He won’t be able to get onto his computer tomorrow.”

“Bummer for him.” She rolled her eyes. “Who cares? Let him call tech support.”

“Isn’t this like a crime or something?”

She considered his point. Her dad’s mantra had always been “It’s not breaking and
entering if you have a key,” but judges and juries tended to disagree, especially
when that key was illegally obtained. Add computer tampering and theft of classified
information to the B&E, and they could be facing a whole lot of time in foreign country.
It would be hard to investigate Chance from a Santo Domingo jail cell.

“You’re right.” She rubbed her forehead and stared at the computer. Not knowing his
original password, she couldn’t very well change it back. She snapped her fingers
together. “I got it. I’ll just take the password off completely. The computer will
start up tomorrow morning without even asking for one and it probably won’t even occur
to him that it didn’t.”

“What if it does occur to him?”

She bent over the desk, steering the mouse into the user controls. “Then he’ll set
a new one. He’ll just think it was a fluke or the result of a blackout.” She looked
up at Junior’s face, creased with worry lines. “Trust me, if he was a computer expert,
it wouldn’t have been this easy to break into his files.”

He nibbled on his bottom lip before nodding. “Okay.”

She clicked the mouse and shut the computer down. “Done. Now can we go?”

She didn’t wait for his response.

He followed after her, closing Chance’s office door behind him.

She parked the Mustang in the same spot it was in when Paige and Chance left. They’d
never suspect she’d left the hotel.

Shutting the engine off, she sat back in the driver’s seat. She ran her fingers through
her hair and allowed her head to fall on the headrest, sighing dramatically.

“Home sweet home.” She turned to Junior. “You still with me?”

His face was equally exhausted. “’Til the end. But can we get out of this convertible?
I’m starting to feel like Thelma and Louise.”

She chuckled. “Deal.”

They both crawled out of the crime mobile. Instinctively, they began walking across
the parking lot to his Maserati.

“I should’ve told you this earlier, but I’m glad you came. Thanks for your help tonight.”

“Help?” He raised his eyebrows. “You did all the heavy lifting.”

She gave him a soft smile. “It was nice to have an accomplice.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you seemed pretty
grace under pressure
. I don’t remember LSU having a clandestine trespassing course. You aren’t by any
chance an international spy?”

She twisted her lips together thoughtfully. “Hmm … I am spying in a nation besides
my own. Maybe I will add it to my résumé.”

He smiled. “So what now, International Woman of Mystery?”

She pulled the lime green Post-it out of her pocket. “I’m gonna run a check on Chance’s
clients and see what pops up.”

“Well, if neither of us recognized the names, you’re not going to get much. These
guys are nobodies—not a single contract between them.”

“I thought I’d feel relieved that Chance isn’t stealing signing bonuses or charging
them a fee but I don’t.”

“Me either. It’s like he’s taking on these has-beens on the hope that one of them
will stumble into a contract, but it doesn't work like that. Hope doesn’t pay the
bills.”

“Nooo … but something does. He’s got a lot of money.” Cat smiled slowly. “The reporter
in me has been so busy trying to out Chance, when I should’ve been trying to scout
him instead.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s making money off these guys somehow. Chance obviously has a skill and like most
talented people, he’s gotta be dying to show it off.”

“To you?”

“Well, it might take a little convincing.”

“You need me to stay?” His voice held an inflection of hope.

She averted her eyes. “Nah, I think I’ve got a better chance of getting him to open
up one-on-one.”

“Oh.” He hung his head, feigning bashfulness. “I guess what I meant to ask is ‘do
you want me to stay?’ ”

Cat took a deep breath. “I should’ve said something before but … well, I didn’t want
to.”

“Let me guess. You don’t date unless it’s part of your mission’s cover story.”

“Not quite.” She looked away. “I’ve got a boyfriend. Back home.”

“Back home? Is that back home in Illinois? Vegas? Buffalo?”

She hesitated. That was more information that she wanted to provide. “The second one.”

“Can I tell you something?” He didn’t wait for her answer. “My high school girlfriend
and I tried the long distance thing when I first went to Lincoln State. We didn’t
make it to midterms.”

The temperature was beginning to drop; goosebumps scattered over her arms as a breeze
passed over them. She took her hands out of her pockets and crossed her arms. “In
all fairness, Benji and I aren’t college freshmen. Besides, this is only temporary.”

“Rachel and I were only separated by a three-hour train ride. You’re three thousand
miles away now. If things work out and you’re in Buffalo, that’s still what? Twenty-five
hundred?”

“Two thousand, two hundred and seventy-two.” Not a day went by that those four numbers
didn’t pop in her head.

“I know better than anyone how much spare time you get working in baseball. It’s hard
enough to have a relationship with someone you live with, but halfway across the country?”

Cat looked down at her feet as she considered his argument. Silence prevailed but
she could feel his stare shouting at her.

“Look, I’m not trying to stir up trouble and this isn’t about you and me. I just want
to give you a heads-up. As a friend.”

She met his gaze and pressed her lips together, trying to gather her thoughts over
her flustered emotions. She swallowed hard and prepared herself.

“I know what you’re saying. I don’t know if Benji and I are going to be able to make
it work, but right now I’m committed to him.”

“He’s a lucky guy.”

No,
he’s not
.

The truth was, Benji was a lot of things. He was funny, sweet, gorgeous, smart and
best of all, nice, but lucky guys didn’t have girlfriends that made out in hotel rooms
with baseball coaches.

“I’m the lucky one.” She smiled. “And if I want to keep that good fortune, it’s probably
best if we keep our lips to ourselves.”

He absorbed the request without a flicker of reaction. Finally, he stuck his hand
out. “What about hands?”

She smiled and shook his hand. “Hands are good.”

Cat stirred awake to the sound of a male murmuring and a female cooing.

Probably
the upstairs neighbor again
.

Las Vegas bars didn’t have a last call, but the newest addition to the apartment complex
usually brought her dates back about fifteen minutes after two.

She reached toward Benji’s pillow, but her arm jammed into a hard surface. Slow comprehension
dawned as she smelled the remnants of Paige’s pre-date rituals—a nauseating mix of
Chanel number-something, the entire Graham Webb smoothing line and a jar that she
actually called Skin Caviar before proceeding to slather it over her legs and arms.

I
’m on the couch
.

Not her comfy couch, where just two weeks ago she had fallen asleep in Benji’s arms
during a
Back to the Future
marathon. No, this was the microfiber chaise in the
La Concha Gran Hotel,
which smelled like stale cigarettes and would probably light up like a scoreboard
underneath the telltale eye of a black light. Her thighs were pinned down by some
weighty object. She felt for her captor, half-expecting a bowling ball or furry tabby,
but the culprit was thin and hard. Her laptop. She moved the computer to the floor
and stretched out her legs, leaning against the couch’s arm. She heard the giggling
whispers again; they were coming from outside the hotel door. Then Cat remembered
what she’d been doing when she conked out.

She moved to a sitting position and wiped her eyes. A soft thump came from the door,
as though someone was leaning against it. She ran her fingers through her hair and
grabbed the computer off the floor, opening the lid as she moved it over to the table.
She pushed the power button and looked around for the hotel lamp. As she flipped it
on, the door began to rattle. Cat didn’t know exactly what was taking place on the
other side, but she was thankful it was out there and not in here.

The lock finally clicked and the doorknob turned. The murmurs grew louder as it creaked
open until they were no longer murmurs, but intelligible conversation.

“I’ll see you then.” Paige stumbled in the doorway. She poked her head out one more
time before shutting the door. “Bye!”

Cat cleared her throat.

“Oh, hi.” Paige kicked her heels off on the way in. “You’re still up. I didn’t wake
you, did I?”

“Nope, I’m working late.” Cat’s mind raced for a way to get out of the room. She spotted
the mini-fridge and hurried over, grabbing the ice bucket. “I was just going to get
some ice.” She skirted to the door before Paige could question the need for ice at
midnight. She’d worry about that when she returned. “Be right back.”

It wasn’t until the door shut behind her that she realized she was barefoot and still
wearing the navy-blue tracksuit from her earlier caper. She gave the door one fleeting
look before taking off down the hotel hallway, shoeless as Joe Jackson.