Blitz: A Secret Baby Sports Romance Series (Books 1-5)

by S. J. Bishop

  Slowly, she shook her head. "No. If it got out that you were with Jax last night—even if you were just talking to him—your career here would be over. The guys in this department... they're a good group, but they're almost as bad as a clique of high school girls when it comes to the rumor mill. They'd turn your 'talking' to Jax into something much more sordid. You'd never live it down."

  I shuddered. This morning, I'd awoken to discover YouTube videos of me and Jax all over the internet from last night. Luckily for me, the cameras had all been trained on him. No one cared about the dime-a-dozen girl he was with. The most the cameras had gotten of me was the back of my head. Still, if a new video surfaced… a better one that showed me clearly… I'd be screwed. I just had to pray that didn't happen.

  I wondered if Emily knew the guys in the department were all well aware of her relationship with Anderson, and whether or not that had hurt her chances of making detective. Then again, Anderson was a cop, not a criminal. Maybe it was different. Also, in the NYPD, the detective rank wasn't actually a rank. It was a designation. Which meant that, technically speaking, Anderson wasn't Emily's superior. So their dating wasn't quite as taboo as it might have been otherwise.

  "Thanks," I told her. "I appreciate that."

  She was still looking at me a little funny, like she didn't quite trust me anymore. I wasn't sure I blamed her. I almost didn't trust myself.

  If it comes down to it, I'll tell Anderson and Captain Murphy that I was with Jax last night. But not before the coroner's report.

  If the time of death came back between midnight and two, I knew I'd have no choice but to confess my whereabouts. But if it was after two... I couldn't verify anything. I'd be useless as an alibi. I might still be able to help Jax from the inside—keeping an eye on new suspects as they arose and making sure Anderson didn't blow them off because he was convinced Jax was guilty. But this would only work if I was still on the case, which meant that no one could know I'd been with him. I had to talk to Jax and make sure he knew that. What if his lawyer was already prepping him on what to say? What if Jax told Anderson he was with me before I had a chance to talk to him? Shit, this was a mess. I suddenly felt as alone as I had on my first day here. I reminded myself that my first day here was just yesterday, but it already seemed a million miles away.

  "Just don't blow this," Emily said. "Keith wants me to help you with this, which means my ass is on the line too. And he has a tendency to see things in a very black and white kind of way. In his mind, Jax is guilty."

  "Are you saying that he won't investigate any other suspects?" I asked, horrified that Anderson might be so slipshod in his detective work.

  "No. Keith's a good cop; he'll do the work. I'm just saying that the more you believe in someone's guilt, the harder it is to prove their innocence. That's why it's probably a good thing you're on this case with him. He needs someone to help balance him out a little." She got a dreamy sort of look in her eyes whenever she talked about Anderson.

  "You really care about him, don't you?" I asked.

  Emily blushed. "What do you mean?" She looked like she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. I considered telling her that I knew all about her and Anderson and didn't care, but she was already so high strung, I didn't want to make it worse. "I care about all the cops in this department," she finally said. Then she scurried toward the door. "I better go before someone starts looking for me. I'll see you later." She exited the room, and I heaved a sigh of relief. This wasn't going to be easy.

  15

  Jax

  I sat on my couch in my home with my head in my hands. Thank God I'm home.

  Caden sat in a chair across from me. He'd driven me home after my arraignment this morning. I still couldn't believe my bail had been so high. A quarter of a million dollars. What bullshit.

  "How are you feeling?" Caden asked.

  I rubbed my temples. "Like I just spent the night in jail," I said, laughing. Caden smiled politely, but I was pretty sure he didn't see anything funny in the situation.

  "Do you wanna tell me what happened?"

  I sighed. Between the police and my lawyer, I'd been over this a million times already. I gave Caden a quick outline of events since I felt I owed him that much, at least—after all, he had skipped out on practice to be at my arraignment hearing this morning—then told him that I didn't want to talk about it anymore for the rest of the day. He nodded.

  "Can I just ask one question first?" I groaned softly, and the corners of Caden's lips curved up. "Just a quick question, then I promise I'll let it lie for today."

  "Go ahead," I told him.

  "Were you drinking before you went down to Penny's last night?"

  "No!" I cried, a sudden flash of irritation. "Of course not!"

  Caden lifted one placating hand. "Just checking," he said. "I'm your sponsor. It's part of my job."

  I nodded, understanding Caden's position but still annoyed by it. Sometimes it seemed like my past was going to follow me forever.

  "Can I ask you something now?" I said, looking at Caden, trying to read his expression.

  "Of course," he said. "Anything."

  "You believe me, right? That I didn't kill Penny?"

  There it was. A flash of uncertainty. It was brief, but it was definitely there. "Of course I do," Caden said. I smiled and nodded, knowing that he was lying. Or, at the very least, that he had doubts. Doubt was almost worse than not believing me altogether. At least then I'd have known where I stood with him. Now, it felt like I was walking across a frozen pond, uncertain of where the thin spots were in the ice. If I stepped the wrong way, I'd fall right through; if I stepped the right way, it would lead me to safety. The only question was, which way should I step?

  Before either of us could break the awkward silence hanging in the air, my doorbell rang. I peeked through the peephole before opening it, afraid that it might be another reporter. They'd followed us home this morning, and I wouldn't put it past one of them to try ringing my bell, just to see what I'd do. But it wasn't a reporter who filled the frame, it was Treena. I opened the door, surprised and happy to see her. I'd told Geoffrey that I had a possible alibi for last night. He'd practically begged me to give her up, but I told him I had to talk to her first. I'd promised him I wouldn't wait. Now was as good a time as any. Maybe I could find a polite way to ask Caden to clear out for a bit.

  But Treena wasn't alone. When I opened the door, Treena, along with half a dozen other cops, came walking in as if they owned the place.

  "Tre—" I started to say, then caught myself. "Detective Walker... what are you doing here?"

  I could tell she was working hard to keep her face neutral. "Jax Ryder," she said, clearing her throat before she went on. "We have a warrant to search your premises." She handed me a tri-folded paper as my heart sunk into my stomach, making me nauseous.

  "Call Geoffrey," Caden said coming up behind me. "Now."

  I turned just in time to see the surprise register on his face when he saw that it was Treena who had served me the warrant papers. I hadn't filled him in on what had happened between us after he'd left Jon and Buddy's last night. He didn't even know that she was a cop. Caden looked at me, and when he didn't say anything, I knew we were safe. He would follow my lead on this and ask me about it later, privately.

  The other cops who'd come with Treena were already pulling out drawers and opening closets. One drawer from a side table in the entryway went clanging to the floor, spilling its contents. I clenched my jaw and felt Caden put a restraining hand on my shoulder.

  "Do I have to be here for this?" I asked Treena.

  "No," she said, shaking her head. She looked around at Emily and the other cops who were busy ripping my house apart and leaned closer to me so that only I could hear. "I'm sorry," she whispered. Anger boiled in me.

  "I'll stay," Caden said, clapping a reassuring hand on my back. "You get out of here. Go get some air."

  I sucked in a deep breath. "I'll be at the st
adium," I told him, grabbing my keys. "Call if you need anything." I was sure he'd nodded but didn't dare turn my head to look. I was afraid that if I did, I'd see something else being broken or mishandled and I'd lose my temper. Striking a cop was never a good idea, especially when you're out on bail for murder charges.

  "Mr. Ryder," Treena said, calling after me. "Don't go far."

  16

  Treena

  "There's nothing here!" I shouted.

  "No shit," Emily snapped back at me.

  I don't know why I was getting so annoyed. It was good that there was nothing here. At least, good for Jax. Emily, however, seemed more irritated as time ticked by.

  "I thought we'd find something," she mumbled to herself.

  I paused, looking at her in a new light. "You think he did it." It wasn't a question. How had I not realized this before? Emily thought Jax was just as guilty as Anderson did.

  Emily looked up at me. "No," she said. "I mean... maybe. I don't know. Shit, Treena, he was covered in her blood. The witness places him at the scene of the crime. It doesn't exactly look good for him."

  "All that witness saw was his jersey, not his face. It could've been anyone."

  "Yeah, anyone covered in Penny Ryder's blood."

  "That doesn't mean he killed her," I yelled. A few of the other officers who were finishing up the search stopped and looked at us. I shot them a dirty look, and they went back to their business. The next time I spoke, my voice was lower.

  "Look, there's no point in arguing about this." I didn't point out that she wasn't actually a homicide detective. I figured that would only make things worse. She was really more of a department floater who helped out with homicide work when the captain permitted her to, which fortunately for Emily, was frequently. I suspected Anderson had something to do with that.

  "Our job is to investigate," I said. "We searched Jax's house and his car. There's nothing here. We're done. Let's go."

  "This warrant covers Jax's house, car, and anywhere else he had access to."

  "You're thinking about the stadium," I said.

  "Bingo."

  "Do you really think Jax would hide the gun at the stadium? When would he have even had time to do that?"

  "He could've killed Penny earlier, gone to the stadium and hidden the gun in his locker, then realized he'd left something behind and gone back to Penny's to get it. That's when he got caught."

  "You realize how stupid that sounds, don't you?" I asked. "Why would Jax come back to the Penny's without changing first?"

  "I don't know," Emily snapped. "I have no idea how the criminal mind works. If you were being objective, you'd see that I was right about searching his locker."

  "I am being objective. And objectively, I think your theory is stupid." We glared at each other a long minute before I finally sighed and dropped my shoulders. "I guess if we don't search it, Anderson will."

  "Keith is thorough, if nothing else."

  "Right." I let out a long breath. "Fine. Let's go get it over with." I turned to the group of officers still meandering around Jax's home. "Hey, fellas, let's clean this place up a little before we go, alright? We don't need to leave it looking like a pigsty." The officers stopped in their tracks, staring at me like I'd spoken a foreign language, then bust out laughing.

  "What the fuck did I say?" I muttered.

  Emily shook her head beside me. "They think you're joking."

  "Why would I joke about something like that? It's not even funny."

  "Because they're men. And men are idiots," she said. We both tried to suppress a giggle, our irritation with each other lifting. Suddenly, we'd been reminded that we were the only two women in the homicide department—even if Emily was more of an honorary member.

  "If we don't find anything at the stadium," Emily said, "then it will clear Jax. Or at least help him."

  "You're right," I told her. "Maybe when we don't turn anything up, Anderson will ease off Jax and start looking at other suspects." Emily nodded encouragingly as we made our way toward the door.

  "You've got faith," she said. "That's good." I nodded my agreement. I just hoped that my faith in Jax wasn't blind.

  17

  Jax

  "Suspended?" I asked.

  I could feel my entire life crumbling around me. Losing football was almost like losing my dad all over again. Everything I'd done—all the work I'd put into getting sober and restoring my reputation as a quarterback—had been for him. To honor his memory and make him proud. Now I was fucking it up all over again; only this time, I was sober. This time, I wouldn't even be able to blackout the worst of it. I'd remember everything. Forever.

  "I'm sorry," Coach Allen said. "I did all I could. It's out of my hands."

  I took a deep breath. Coach had sent me back down to the locker room when I'd shown up on the practice field in my gear, but I'd thought he just wanted to talk to me. It hadn't occurred to me that I wouldn’t be welcome at practice. "For how long?" I asked.

  "Pending the outcome of the investigation."

  I started counting to ten like Caden had taught me. I reached five before deciding it was useless. Fuck it. I spun around and bashed my fist into my locker and kept bashing until Coach Allen pulled me away. My knuckles were bloody and already swelling.

  "You idiot!" Coach yelled at me, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around my hand. I yanked it away. "What the hell are you trying to do? Break your goddamn hand? What if they clear you tomorrow? How the hell are you gonna play football with five broken fingers?"

  I kicked the locker across from mine, crunching the metal in where my foot hit it. Coach let out a heavy sigh. I removed the towel that was soaking up my blood and flexed my fingers. They hurt, but they were still working. "Nothing's broken," I told him. That only made me angrier. At least if they'd been broken, that would've been something I'd done to myself. Something I had controlled. Right now my life was so chaotic, I'd welcome control wherever and however I could get it.

  I knew Caden would probably have told me that was unhealthy thinking. I was supposed to accept the things I couldn't change and only change the things I could; the problem was I still didn't know how to tell the difference. That particular part of AA's mantra continued to elude me.

  Some of the guys started to filter in from practice now; the assistant coaches must have decided it was time for a break. They stopped when they saw I was still here.

  "I thought he was leaving," Mason yelled. "We don't need murderers hanging around giving the team a bad name."

  I glared at him.

  "Mind your business, Mason," Coach yelled. "Jax will leave when I say he leaves."

  I silently thanked Coach Allen for sticking up for me. I looked at him, and he jerked his head toward the exit. Christ, this was hard. I'd already changed back into my street clothes, so at least I could get out of here fast.

  I opened my locker, double checking I had everything I needed since I wouldn't be coming back for a while, then slammed it shut and headed out of the locker room. Halfway to the exit, there was a commotion. A couple of the stadium's security guards burst into the room, looking agitated.

  "I'm sorry, sir," one of them said when he saw Coach Allen. "We tried to stop them."

  "What are you—" But Coach's words were cut off when Treena and her cronies came barging into the locker room. She looked around at the half-naked men, and I saw her cheeks color.

  "Excuse the interruption," she said, sounding just like a cop. "We have a warrant—"

  "Another warrant?" I asked, bewildered. I'd called Geoffrey on my way here and told him about the warrant. He said he'd been expecting that and not to worry, but that didn't mean I was happy about it. Especially since Treena seemed to be following me around everywhere I went now.

  Less than twenty-four hours ago, I'd held her in my arms. I'd been inside her, for crying out loud. Now she was searching my home and my locker and making me feel... well, like she thought I was guilty. Shit. I still hadn't talked to her a
lone. For all I knew, she did think I was guilty. Maybe that's why she wasn't saying anything about our night together to her boss, that fuckhead Detective Anderson.

  "It's actually the same warrant," she said, her cheeks coloring even more. She'd make a terrible undercover agent. Her emotions were constantly writing themselves on her face. "It covers your workplace as well as your home."

  "I see," I said, keeping my voice as even as I could. "Did you find anything at my house?"

  "No," she said. Her eyes fell on my hand, still wrapped in the bloody towel. "Oh my God. What happened? Are you okay?" She took a step toward me. Concern pierced through the tough façade she'd been trying to put on. Emily nudged her, and she suddenly remembered that we weren't alone in the room.

  "Nothing," I told her, making my voice as cold as possible.

  Treena took a breath and put her tough girl façade back up. "We need to clear the room," she said. It was strange seeing Emily here with her. The two of them working together was tripping me out. It was as if the women of the world were conspiring against me.

  Coach Allen looked around. "We're just about to break for lunch."

  "This is gonna take longer than lunch," Treena told him.

  "So what do you want me to do? Cancel practice?" His face was growing red and pinched.

  "The more you cooperate, the easier and faster it will make this go," she said.

  Coach screwed his face up, tightening his lips and narrowing his eyes to nothing but slits. "Fine," he said. "Practice is canceled." Groans immediately erupted from the team.

  "Our first game is in three days!" Douglas said.

  "This is all Jax's fault! I told you all he was bad news!" Mason yelled.

  What disturbed me more than anything was that a lot of the guys on the team seemed to be agreeing with Mason. If Treena and her cop buddies weren't here, I was afraid they might try to lynch me.