Stealing Second Read online

  As the center fielder stepped into the batter’s box, the noise level in the ballpark rose exponentially. On the mound, Trey’s total focus was on Matt Scanlon, who, with his excellent pitch calls throughout the game, was a big part of the reason Trey had retired twenty-four batters in a row.

  A few pressure-filled minutes later, Katherine, Lily and Dorie were standing along with everyone else in the ballpark as Trey faced down a three-two count against the feared hitter. A hush fell over the ballpark as Trey nodded to Matt, went into his windup and then delivered the pitch. A hanging curveball. The center fielder swung mightily and a collective groan of disappointment erupted from the fans as his bat sliced through the air and missed the ball.

  “Only two more outs,” Lily exclaimed, her voice high with excitement.

  In front of Lily’s seat, an older woman with silver-gray hair and decked out in a Diamondbacks jersey, who’d been chatting with Lily throughout the game, turned in her seat and favored Lily with an indulgent smile. Lily, who was wearing her Blaze ball cap and T-shirt, had impressed the woman and several other fans in the vicinity with her knowledge of both the Blaze and the Diamondbacks players. It seemed everywhere she went, Lily and her outgoing personality charmed everyone she came into contact with.

  Just then Katherine’s phone vibrated against her hip. Annoyed at the rotten timing, she nonetheless pulled the phone from her pocket and read the newly arrived text from Kelly. She sucked in a shocked breath, then read the text again to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. Looking up from her phone, alarm slithered up her spine. Perfect game or not, this would be a night Trey Gentry would never forget.

  * * *

  Tom expelled a nervous breath as the third, and hopefully final, Diamondbacks batter of the game stepped out of the batter’s box, prolonging the agony that every Blaze player and fan was currently experiencing.

  A perfect game.

  Who would have thunk it? Not him. Not when he knew how preoccupied Trey had been over the Ava McCandless situation. The best he’d hoped for tonight was that Trey would work a solid five or six innings without giving up any runs. But the kid had given him, and the team, so much more. And there was no doubt in his mind that if Trey was able to get this last out, the Cy Young Award was his for the taking.

  From his vantage point near the steps of the visitors’ dugout, Tom tried to block out everything except for what was happening on the field. A difficult task, considering the noise level in the ballpark had increased noticeably as the inning progressed.

  In all of his years as a catcher he’d never called a perfect game. He and Seth had come close a couple of times during their tenure with the Rangers, but like it had been for so many, perfection had slipped from their grasp in the final innings of the game. He hoped that wouldn’t happen to Trey.

  To his right, the Blaze players not currently on the field, as well as a few of his coaches, were standing on the green benches directly in front of the fence that separated the dugout from the field. The coiled tension inside each and every one of them was palpable, just like it was in the entire ballpark. The air virtually hummed with electricity, and all eyes were on a twenty-four-year-old kid only one out away from baseball immortality.

  As the D-Backs hitter utilized the brief time he was allowed out of the batter’s box, Matt motioned to the umpire, then trotted to the pitcher’s mound. Tom watched as Matt lifted his glove to shield his mouth and spoke to Trey. Although they weren’t friends off the field, Trey had a great deal of respect for Matt and his infinite wealth of baseball knowledge. If Trey did get his perfect game, the first person he would undoubtedly thank would be Matt. The veteran catcher’s pitch calls throughout the game had been nothing short of brilliant. He’d confused the hell out of the Diamondbacks hitters all night. And now he and Trey needed to do it one last time.

  Tom gripped the rail in front of him tightly as Matt headed back to home plate. Trey, who appeared remarkably poised considering the situation, took off his cap, wiped his brow with his forearm, then slapped the cap back on his head. The crowd noise notched up to an almost-deafening level as the D-Backs’ second baseman stepped back into the batter’s box and took his stance. The count was one ball and two strikes. Trey had a little breathing room, but not much.

  Two agonizing pitches later, Trey was facing a full-count. Still, he didn’t seem fazed. The Trey Gentry Tom was looking at right now was the same one he’d watched for the past two and a half seasons. Eerily cool under pressure. On the field, ice water instead of blood ran through his veins.

  As Matt hunkered down behind home plate, Trey shook off one sign, and then nodded. He turned to the side, stared at the batter, then went into his windup and delivered a scorching fastball. The D-Backs’ second baseman swung and, for one sickening moment, Tom thought he’d connected, but as the guy slammed his bat to the ground, Tom realized that sound he’d heard was the loud thwack of the ball hitting Scanlon’s glove at a likely speed of 100 mph or more.

  A split second later, jubilant hollers and frenzied joy erupted as the Blaze players on the field sprinted toward Trey, and the players poised at the dugout railing hopped the fence to join them. The first team member to reach Trey was Matt, who collided into him, wrapped his arms around him and lifted Trey from the ground. Matt swung Trey around in a congratulatory hug and then a second later, the two disappeared from sight, swallowed up by their wildly exultant teammates.

  Tom felt a slap on his back and turned to find Seth grinning at him. “Can you fucking believe it?” Seth said as they shared a celebratory hug.

  Too choked up by the enormity of Trey’s achievement, Tom just shook his head, then he and Seth took the steps up to the field and joined the celebration.

  After Tom reached Trey and shook his hand, he heard his name and turned around to find Katie navigating quickly through the throng of players and coaches to get to him. His grin faded at the sight of her strained, unsmiling expression.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked as she skidded to a halt in front of him. If they had been at Blaze Field he would have had to raise his voice. But while the Arizona fans had courteously and enthusiastically applauded Trey’s efforts, they weren’t going crazy with delirium. And except for a smattering of Blaze fans who had congregated near the seats behind the visitors’ dugout, the D-Backs faithful had begun to file out of the ballpark.

  Katie leaned in close and spoke in a low but urgent voice. “Don’t let Trey talk to the media.”

  Tom cocked his head and frowned. “Why the hell not? He just threw a perfect game.”

  “I can’t tell you here.” Her eyes darted nervously back and forth, surveying the immediate vicinity, for reporters, he surmised. “Just get Trey and bring him into the clubhouse. I’ve already advised the media that questions will only be answered in the press room. I’ve barred them from the locker room area.”

  “Why?”

  Katie shot him a look of impatience. “I’ll explain everything once you, Trey and I are alone.” Her eyes softened a fraction. “Please. Trust me on this.”

  What the devil had her so nervous?

  “You can’t tell me anything right now?”

  She shook her head and shoved several loose tendrils of hair away from her perspiring brow. “Not here,” she said, her voice harder than steel.

  Tom opened his mouth to argue, but then shut it. He knew Katie well enough to know she had to have a damn good reason to pull Trey away from the reporters who only wanted to laud and discuss his achievement. A sense of foreboding swept over him as he nodded. “Fine. I’ll get Trey and meet you in the clubhouse. We can use the visiting manager’s office.”

  Ten minutes later, after corralling a confused Trey and leading him off the field, Tom let Trey precede him into the manager’s office adjacent to the clubhouse’s locker room, then closed the door.

  Katie, who had been pacing back and forth in front of the modular workstation, gave Trey a wan smile. “Congratulations. You pitched a great game ton
ight.”

  “Thanks,” Trey said, then looked from Katie to Tom, then back to Katie. Puzzlement shadowed his eyes. “What’s going on? The skipper said I couldn’t talk to the media.”

  Katie pointed to one of the chairs near the workstation. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

  “I’d rather stand,” Trey replied evenly.

  Tom still had no idea what was going on, but whatever it was, the tense expression on Katie’s face told him it wasn’t good.

  “I just got word that the Denver Police Department would like to question you.”

  Trey’s eyes widened. “For what?” He looked at Tom and spread his hands in a plaintive gesture. “I haven’t done anything to be questioned about. Hell, I haven’t even broken curfew on this trip.”

  “The charge is attempted rape.”

  Tom froze, too stunned to speak. Holy fucking shit.

  Trey’s jaw dropped. “Attempted rape?” He shook his head, shock and confusion evident in his eyes. “I would never do anything like that.” He ran a hand through his shaggy, sweat-soaked hair, then went still. “Damn her,” he muttered, his expression changing to one of anger. “It was her, wasn’t it? Ava McCandless.”

  Katie nodded solemnly. “Yes. She claims you tried to rape her in your hotel room Sunday night.”

  Obviously shaken, Trey took two steps and sat down on one of the visitor chairs near the workstation. “I didn’t do it,” he said, his eyes pleading with them to believe him. In that moment he looked much younger than his twenty-four years. Out of nowhere, Tom was hit with an overwhelming paternal urge to comfort him. “I swear it, Skipper, I didn’t try to rape her. I would never do something that…that twisted.”

  “I know you wouldn’t,” Tom said. Maybe it was blind faith or just a gut instinct, but he didn’t believe for one second that Trey had tried to rape Ava.

  “So do I.” Katie’s tone was gentle. “That’s why I couldn’t let you get blindsided by the media.” She moved to sit in the chair next to the one Trey occupied. “Do you have an attorney?”

  He looked at her blankly. “Just the one at Logan-Johnson who handles my contracts and endorsement deals.” Fear suddenly flashed in his eyes. “Are they going to arrest me?”

  “At this time, I believe they only want to question you. My advice is to call Adam Logan. I’m sure he can recommend an excellent criminal attorney for you.”

  “Criminal?” Trey bent his head and stared at the linoleum floor. “I’m not a criminal,” he said in a dull, troubled voice.

  “No. You’re not,” Tom said. “But you need to have a lawyer with you when you talk to the police.”

  “She’s lying,” Trey said adamantly as he lifted his head. His eyes blazed with fury. “She came to my room, but I didn’t try to rape her. I didn’t even touch her.”

  “You let her into your room?” Katie asked carefully.

  “I didn’t know it was her. I thought it was Seth doing a random bed check so I opened the door. She pushed her way in.”

  “What did she say to you?” Tom asked.

  “She was still mad at me for not sleeping with her the night of Matt’s engagement party. She asked me why I had no problem fucking every woman in San Francisco except for her. She said I should be grateful she was interested in me, and that I’d be sorry for crossing her.” Trey shook his head. “I had no clue what she meant. Until now.”

  Seething inside, Tom clenched his fists. Ava McCandless was one hell of a piece of work. “How long was she in your room?”

  “No more than five minutes.” He paused, and his shoulders slumped. The enormity of the situation had finally sunk in; his life would never be the same and he knew it. “This is going to be all over the news tonight, isn’t it?”

  Katie nodded sympathetically. “I’m afraid so, Trey.”

  “Jesus.” Trey sagged against the back of the chair. “I can’t believe this.”

  Neither could Tom. On what should be the best night of his life, a night to discuss and celebrate his achievement, Trey would have to sequester himself in his hotel room until he met with the Denver PD and attempted to clear his name. This fucking bullshit was all sorts of wrong.

  “Trey, I think this matter needs to be handled expeditiously,” Katie continued with gentle authority. “I suggest that you and I fly to Denver tomorrow morning and meet with the police. I’m sure Adam must have an attorney on retainer he can fly out and meet us there. Speaking from a media perspective, your cooperation and willingness to talk to the police will work in your favor. I can prepare a statement if you’d like, and you can speak to the media or I can do it on your behalf.”

  “Wouldn’t that be a conflict of interest?” Trey asked. “Considering the woman accusing me of attempted rape is the owner of the team?”

  “You let me worry about that.” Katie shifted in her chair and briefly placed her hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry your accomplishment tonight was ruined by these false allegations. You don’t deserve this.”

  Trey let out a snort. “Some people think I do.”

  Tom frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Never mind.” Trey waved a hand, then pushed up from the chair. “Is there any way you can get me out of here and back to the hotel without me having to talk anyone? I need some time to myself before I have to face the public.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Katie said as she rose to stand beside him.

  “Thanks, Ms. Whitton,” Trey said, then looked at Tom. “It means a lot that you and the skipper believe me.”

  * * *

  Two hours after she’d managed to sneak Trey out of Chase Field and to his hotel room without attracting too much attention, Katherine hooked her phone up to its charger. She’d been on the damn fool thing ever since she’d secluded herself in her room. It was as drained as she was.

  While Tom had arranged for Trey to shower and change in privacy, Katherine had given a brief statement to the media regarding Trey’s situation. It would be the only statement the press would get until after Trey voluntarily talked to the police. Just before she spoke in the media room, Katherine had contacted the Denver Police Department to let them know that Trey would be in Denver tomorrow afternoon, and that she, Adam Logan and Trey’s attorney would be accompanying him.

  It was no surprise that the press was having a field day with the lurid accusation. Many of them had already tried and convicted Trey based solely on his reputation as a womanizer. It seemed some reporters believed that being a man-whore (their term, not hers) was a hop, skip and a jump away from attempted rape. And judging by what she’d been reading on the popular social media sites, a majority of the population didn’t seem to believe in the old adage innocent until proven guilty.

  Innocent until proven guilty.

  Suddenly, a hot wave of shame washed over her. She sank to the bed and put her palms to her flushed cheeks as the phrase echoed in her head. Oh, sweet Lord. She was as bad as the judgmental people condemning Trey without any proof whatsoever that he’d committed a crime.

  Shaken by the realization, she almost jumped out of her skin when a solid knock sounded on the door. Dragging in gulp of air, she took a few seconds to collect herself, then rose from the bed. After a quick peek in the security peephole, she opened the door and met Tom’s somber gaze.

  “How are you holding up?” he asked.

  She took in his worry-etched face and sighed. “About the same as you, I imagine.”

  The smile that quirked his lips didn’t quite make it to his eyes. “May I come in?”

  “Of course.” She pulled the door wide so he could enter. The fresh scent that trailed after him as he brushed past her had her longing for a long hot shower.

  She closed the door and turned to find him at the foot of the bed watching her with concerned eyes. She lifted a hand to her unruly hair. She’d released it from its bun two hours ago and hadn’t bothered to brush it out.

  “I know I look like something the cat dragged in. I’ve been on the phone
nonstop since I got back to the hotel. I can’t wait to take a shower.”

  Those blue-green eyes of his wandered over her briefly, but he was too polite to comment on her bedraggled appearance. Instead he shoved his hands into the front pockets of his gray slacks. “I won’t stay long. I just came from Trey’s room and wanted to give you an update.”

  “How’s he doing?” she asked, forgetting her appearance.

  Tom shrugged, drawing her attention to the broad shoulders beneath the black Blaze polo shirt he wore. “About as you’d expect. He’s shell-shocked and angry at the same time. When I left he was on the phone with his mother. She’s been very supportive.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. He’s going to need all the support he can get until his name is cleared.” A horrible thought occurred to her. “Good God. I hope the press isn’t hounding his family.”

  “From what I overheard, they’re refusing all phone calls and not opening their door to anyone.”

  “That’s smart.”

  “I’m going to Denver with you in the morning.”

  Katherine widened her eyes. She hadn’t expected that. “But what about the game?”

  “I’ve asked Seth to take over as acting manager for the day.” Tom turned and moved to the window. She studied his back as he pulled the curtain aside and looked out. “I can’t let Trey go through this alone.”

  “He won’t be alone,” she assured him.

  Tom let the curtain fall and pivoted to face her. “He came to me and asked me for help. I let him down.”

  “No, you didn’t.” Katherine’s heart clenched at the guilt plainly evident in his eyes. “The minute he told you about Ava, you came straight to me to report it. What else do you think you could have done for him?”