Murder at First Pitch

by Nicole Asselin

  “Maddie. Man, it’s been a crazy week. I don’t think I’m a suspect anymore in that guy’s murder, but the police have been hounding me non-stop. The only good thing in this whole mess is that it seems like the press haven’t really been too tough on this one. I’m hoping it doesn’t affect the attendance for today. We need to keep the attendance up otherwise we might have to start cutting back on a few things at the ballpark.”

  “Ben, you need to tell me everything you know about Christopher Dailey. Why were you fighting with him that night at the party? She leaned forward. Ben looked reluctant to tell her anything, so she kept pushing him to answer. “You owe me and the family that much. Since you’re innocent, the fight you had shouldn’t matter. Plus, I already know he wasn’t a good guy, so nothing would be too surprising about him.”

  He rolled his eyes at her. “That’s the understatement of the year. He was a complete jerk. I had talked to him during the winter; he contacted me out of the blue about signing some kid to a pretty lucrative contract for a pitcher. I told him that’s not what we do. We are a small, unaffiliated team; we don’t do ‘lucrative.’ We do adequate. Apparently, the guy he wanted me to sign was some hot shot at this college before being kicked out of school for honor code violations. I don’t know much more about it. I told him to bug off. I hadn’t heard from him again until the night of the party when he showed up trying to get me to reconsider the team position.” Ben got up and headed towards the door. “I mean, he wasn’t a good guy, but he didn’t deserve to die the way he did. Hopefully, the police will figure out what’s going on soon. And by the way, I know for a fact that Davis told you to stay out of it. So, you should probably take his advice.

  He was halfway out the door when he turned around one more time. “Oh, and we’re all set for the first pitch if you want to get out there and make sure the field is all set. The kids from the middle school should be getting here any time now.”

  Madeline looked at the clock and realized how close to the start time it actually was. She left the office quickly, checked in with her mom at the end of the hall to see if there were any fires to put out, and continued down towards the field. She leaned out over the first base wall and looked out towards centerfield. The field looked great, and the teams already had some guys out taking batting practice. Everything looked good. She spoke to the sound guy over the walkie talkie to make sure they were all set and then paged security to have them call her when the kids got there.

  She headed back inside and went straight to Davis’ office. He wasn’t in there, so she took a Post-it note from his desk and told him to meet her on the concourse as soon as possible. She wanted to make sure the investigation was still progressing and also to give him the note the Barnstormer owner dropped this morning at the gate.

  Madeline went back down to the concourse and began a walk around the perimeter. Most of the concession stands were in their set-up process. They didn’t have a lot, but they had the three new stands plus the original hot dog, burger, and fries stand. Everything was setting up just fine. While she walked through the concourse, she couldn’t help but think more about the Christopher Dailey case.

  So, maybe he was a known bookie who might have been pushing steroids around local baseball teams and also represented some sort of baseball player. He was mad at her brother for not signing his guy, but he must have also had enemies from his side steroid business. She didn’t know much about those drugs, but ‘roid rage had sure been a thing for as long as she could remember. Maybe one of his customers killed him in a fit of anger. Maybe the guy who couldn’t get a contract got mad and did it as revenge for not getting a contract.

  As she was thinking, she wasn’t looking where she was going and slammed straight into a brick wall of a man. She looked up and it was Davis. He grabbed her arms to keep her from falling backwards. She let out an “oh” and tried to get her bearings.

  “Maddie, I know you were looking for me. Is everything okay?” He was still holding on her arms and looking into her eyes. Dang, he was cute. Those deep brown eyes, that dark chocolate-colored hair, she could definitely look at him forever. She shook herself out of her reverie and steadied herself.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry about that.” He pulled her over to the side of concourse to get out of the way of people hurrying back and forth. Once on the side, he let go of her arms and looked at Madeline questioningly. “I’m glad you found me. I have some more information for you regarding Christopher Dailey. Or at least I think it has something to do with it. Either way, it’s weird.”

  “It’s not like I’m going out of my way to get this information! I just ask questions and things tend to fall into my lap. I’m not skulking about or anything. Questions are all I’m asking.” She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, did you know Chris was into selling steroids? Dave said he heard some guys talking about it, not from our team, but from others. That can’t be a safe career. Oh! And this morning before I came into the office, William Chase of the Barnstormers was standing at the gate looking for something or someone. Before I could find out what he wanted, he took off running but not before dropping a piece of paper.” She scrambled into her back pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of notebook paper.

  Davis looked at the paper closely for a few minutes and she could tell he was thinking about how it impacted everything going on. He folded the paper back up and put it in his shirt pocket. “I’ll take this to the police and let them know about the strange behavior. And of course, they know about the steroid angle. Apparently, William had been on their radar for quite a while, mainly as a shady character, but had no proof of any illegal activity. Again, I have to say Maddie; you really should back away from this. From the steroid angle alone you could be in danger if someone thinks you know something. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  He looked to the side for a minute as if to see if anyone was listening to their conversation. Madeline looked around too to see if there was anything interesting happening, but not seeing anything worth noticing, she turned back to Davis.

  He sighed, looked down, and then looked back up at her. “Look, after the game today, do you want to get a drink at Centerfields? It’s a ritual the security team does every year after the first game. I’d like for you to come. I know the gala is tonight, but you’ll be back before it even starts.” Davis looked into her eyes and she felt a little frisson of electricity skate up her spine.

  While not the most experienced with men since she hit her thirties, she had dated through college and went on a few dates while in the corporate world. She never really had a serious relationship though, but she thought Davis was flirting. Then again, maybe he was just being nice. Either way, she knew after the week she had, drinks were definitely needed. “Sure, I’d love to join you guys. As long as they don’t mind the boss’ daughter tagging along.” She smiled at him. He smiled back and his shoulders seemed to relax a bit.

  He nodded. “Great, we meet about an hour after the gates close. See you there. Good luck today and remember what I said about being careful.” He looked at her once more before turning on his heels and walking back towards the front offices.

  Madeline glanced as her watch and realized how close it was to gates being opened. At the same time, her walkie-talkie cackled and she heard Eliza’s voice. “Madeline, Madeline. Come in. The singers have arrived. Madeline. I repeat. The singers have arrived. Over and out.”

  She shook her head laughing out loud. Eliza never really got the hang of the walkie-talkies. She always made it seem like they were cops or long-haul truckers. Madeline scurried down the concourse to meet the middle schoolers at the side gate. Let the games begin.

  Chapter Seven

  “…and the home of the brave.” The little voices ended to a large round of applause. Madeline lined them up in the batter’s box at home plate for parents to get pictures and for the kids to wave to the crowd. Right before they left the field, she pointed at the kid whose dad was going to surprise him. She handed him
a ball and told him he was going to throw the first pitch. A man came out of the dugout with a catcher’s mask on and squatted down behind home plate. The young man lobbed it into the air where the catcher caught it right in front of home plate. As he made his way to the kid to give him the ball, he whipped off his mask revealing himself to be the kid’s father.

  They ran into each other’s arms, and Madeline wiped the tears from eyes. After the pictures were taken and the kids were taken off the diamond, she looked over at Billy and gave him the high sign. He knew that once the field was cleared, he could send out his pitcher to get a few warm-up throws off the mound before the game officially started.

  The pitcher was a young guy fresh out of college who didn’t quite have the stuff to pitch in the Cape League over the summer. The team still thought of him as good enough for the Armadillos. He was scouted by one of the team’s most reliable guys, and they had high hopes for him. He worked for the minimum salary, but loved pitching, so making him Opening Day starter was a no-brainer. This was his first season with the team, and there were hopes that he would blossom into one of the most popular players on the Armadillos.

  It was funny how she had only been working with the team for a few weeks, but it felt like she had been there forever. She never knew how much she liked working with her family and as part of the team until she had left for a bit. She took her time walking the concourse to the right field bleacher seats which is where she wanted to watch the game from. Every now and then they had a family watch party in the boxes by the press room, but most of the time they all went their separate ways as soon as the game started. Madeline liked to watch from the outfield because it gave a wider perspective to the game as a whole. A person could see every base, every decision by a runner, and there was even the possibility of grabbing a home run ball. Her brother preferred to sit behind home plate with the scouts. Her mother stayed in the office and listened to the game on the radio and put out any fires that arose during the game. Her father, on the other hand, sat in the press box. He liked the energy of the room and it also had one of the best views of the whole field.

  The Boucher’s were a family of baseball freaks. She knew her dad was grooming her brother to eventually take over as the head of baseball operations, but Madeline knew she wanted to stay a part of the business too. She had made a decision that before the season ended, she wanted to talk to her parents about possibly taking on a larger role in the organization. So far, the social media stuff had been going well even though it had only been a few weeks. She remembered everything her Grandpa had ever taught her about the game, and she couldn’t imagine leaving it behind again. She couldn’t even remember why she was so apprehensive about returning in the first place.

  Settling against the railing in the standing room only section of right field, she took in the scene around her. The stadium fit 3,000 people, and on most games days they topped out around 2,000. Since today was Opening Day, it looked like a full crowd and she estimated that the stadium was at least mostly full. The team had lucked out in the weather and it being on a Saturday afternoon. There were lots of families interspersed throughout the park, along with the old timers who had been attending games forever. This would hopefully be a great season as long as they could keep the attendance up. She was going to make extra sure the social media side staying clued in and made trips to the ballpark fun.

  Madeline caught the eye of an older man, probably in his seventies a few rows from the top. He waved at her enthusiastically. He was one of the team’s season ticket holders. He had been coming to the park since the early seventies, even before her family owned the team. He pointed excitedly to the young boy sitting next to him in the row. She assumed it was his grandson and she waved at both of them. She was so happy to see the generations together at the park. She remembered watching games like that with her grandpa.

  She snapped out of her observations with the crack of the bat. She saw a ball sailing out towards the right field bleachers where she was standing. The right fielder scrambled backwards but watched the ball clear the fence over his head. At this point in the game, the Armadillos had a quick top of the first, the pitcher retiring the Foxboro team in order. The home run in the bottom of the first inning came courtesy of the Armadillos veteran player, David Murphy. He had been playing with the team for the previous five years and was the favorite player of many fans.

  The crowd was losing their minds, screaming and clapping ecstatically. Three rows in front of where Madeline was standing was a young family. The youngest boy held up the ball in his glove. A nice souvenir from the ballpark. Madeline walked down the aisle to where he and his family were sitting.

  She handed them her card, “Hey, young man. Great catch! I work with the team. Would you like to come down to the field after the game and run the bases?” The little boy looked to be about six years old and nodded at her. She looked up at his parents. “If it’s okay with you, of course. I’ll just take the name of your party and after the last out, you can meet me down by the side of the home team dugout.”

  After collecting their names and promising to meet them afterwards, she went back to the railing for the next few innings. The Armadillos were up by a score of 5–1 in the sixth inning when she decided to walk around the concourse again to see how operations were going. Most of the families she encountered through the ballpark had big smiles on their faces and seemed to be enjoying themselves. She had high hopes for the rest of the season.

  As she continued walking, she felt eyes on her back. She turned around quickly but didn’t notice anyone paying her any particular attention. There was a family hanging out by the water fountain, two men in line at the beer stand, and a woman bending down to talk to her son at the entrance to the field-level seats. Even though no one seemed to be paying attention to her, she still felt the uncomfortable sensation of someone watching her. It was creepy. She tried to shrug it off and continued walking to the front of the ballpark. She arrived by the front gates and took a look back at the crowded concourse.

  She felt a tap on her shoulder. Standing there was William Chase, owner of the Barnstormers. He certainly looked like the guy she saw this morning, but he did not give her any indication that he saw her earlier that day. Last time they were this close to each other, William was three sheets to the wind at the party. Not known for his restraint, she and William never really spoke to each other. They didn’t exactly travel in the same circles.

  William had been owner of the Barnstormers for the previous five years. He came from family money, but also ended up creating some sort of app that tracked baseball players through their careers. She wasn’t 100% sure what the app actually did, but she did know that it made him a ton of money. So, what else would a guy do when he gets lot of money? Buy a sports team. He wasn’t known for his good looks, of that she was sure. He was in his early forties with salt and pepper hair. He wasn’t tall, but he wasn’t short either. Just kind of average. Not very athletic in the least, a bit pudgy around his middle from years of sitting behind computers and desks. And he sweat. Profusely. Probably from the drinking.

  “Madeline Boucher? Right?” He looked at her. She didn’t know how he knew to find her at this exact moment.

  “Yeah, I’m Madeline. Can I help you with something?” She tried to keep suspicion out of her voice. She kept a hand on the walkie-talkie clipped to her front pocket just in case things took a turn south. She tried not to breathe too deeply since the smell of alcohol seemed to permeate his pores. His eyes looked a little bit too red for an early afternoon baseball game. Especially since his team had their own home opener that night on the Cape. Why would he be there at 2:30 p.m., when he should be at his own ballpark preparing?

  He looked around the crowded area and leaned closer. “You know, I was very concerned when I heard about the misfortune you guys experienced last week.”

  Madeline instinctively took a step back to get out of the range of his breath. What a weird way to describe a murder, a misfor
tune.

  “I just wanted to see if you needed anything from me going forward. We baseball owners have to stick together,” he continued.

  Madeline was concerned that he was dangerously close to invading her personal space. Why would he come to her with this? “I think you should talk to my Dad. Maybe during regular business hours? He would know better what and if we need anything. The police are investigating and we’re just trying to get on with the season.”

  She nodded at him and backed away to emphasize that her part in the conversation was over. Before she could get away, he grabbed her arm. She shook his hand off and looked at him incredulously. Before she could lay into him, she saw Davis approaching out of the corner of her eye. He caught her eye and lifted a brow in question. She shrugged and rolled her eyes in William’s direction.

  “Mr. Chase, Ms. Boucher. How is everything over here?” Davis slowly walked up and casually put himself in between William and herself. “Games almost over, you ready to start closing things out?” He looked at her, giving her an out to the conversation.

  “Yes, great. I have some after game things planned for some fans, so I should get to it. Nice talking to you, Mr. Chase.” She darn near ran away from the two men as fast as she could. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the two men deep in conversation with William poking Davis in the chest. She wondered what that was all about and made a mental reminder to ask Davis about it at the bar that night.

  After most home games, especially the ones played during the day, a majority of the players hung out in the dugout to meet with kids and families. She grabbed some swag bags of stuff for the home run kid which included a mini-bat, jersey, and tickets to an upcoming game. She hurried down to the entrance of the home team dugout seats and waited for the last out to be called.

  “STRIKE THREE!” The umpire emphatically called out the Foxboro player looking on a change-up from the closer. The crowd went crazy and the team began high-fiving each other in the dugout and on the field. Much like their Boston neighbors, the Red Sox, the team played “Dirty Water” by the Standells after every game. It made a person feel like they were watching a big league team play for a lot less money.