by Camel Press
She turned the key and the lid sprang open, revealing bundles of cash nestled in its green velvet lining.
Cat gasped and plopped down on the desk chair.
“This is one hell of a good luck charm,” Benji said.
Chapter 32
“Forty thousand, fifty thousand ….”
Cat set the fifth stack on the kitchen counter triumphantly. Each wrapped set of bills had a $10,000 wrapper around it. She was taking its word for it because she’d never seen so many hundred dollar bills in one setting.
“I know the perfect investment banker.”
She widened her eyes at him, not sure if he was joking. “We can’t keep this.”
“Why not?”
“Benji!” She turned away from the stack of temptation and gazed into his innocent blue eyes. “For starters, if we suddenly deposit fifty thousand dollars into our checking account and Detective Kahn finds out, we’ll be spending our honeymoon in Sing Sing.”
“So we keep it in the freezer. Or inside my Goonies lunchbox. Or we can buy one of those fake cans of Aqua Net. Heck, we can put it back in the puzzle box and leave it in the cold air return vent. Cat, I can literally think of a hundred different places where we can hide this money.”
“This money is a result of everything that happened … the games, Damien, Ryan. It’s blood money and … bone money.”
“They weren’t exactly innocent victims.”
“Still.”
“It’s no different than if we charged Quinn rent for the past week.”
“I love our apartment, but I don’t really know that our futon is worth fifty grand a week.”
“It’s a wedding present.” He picked up one of the stacks and waved it in her face.
She frowned. “It’s wrong. This money came from them violating everything I believe in.”
“Come on. I’ve got an uncle who’s a kosher butcher, but I’m a vegetarian. Does that mean I shouldn’t have accepted the five hundred dollars he gave me for graduation?”
“Nice try, but it’s nowhere near the same thing and you know it.”
“I do.” He sighed. “But what are we supposed to do? Give it back to the casino? Quinn put you and your career through hell; this is the least he can do.”
Cat didn’t blink under his pleading stare.
“How about this? It’s a wedding gift, so why don’t we spend it on our wedding?”
“Really? Benji Kardashian needs a six-figure wedding?”
He laughed. “No, the French castle thing you want. Let’s blow it all on that.”
“Blow it all on that? Is that going to be in your vows?”
“It sounds so much more romantic in French, trust me.”
She gave one last look at the pile of cash on the countertop. “I’ll look at a brochure.”
“Woo-hoo!” Benji dropped one of the stacks on the tile floor and clasped her in his arms, spinning her around the room.
Cat surrendered with a giggle.
Their embrace was interrupted by the doorbell. Benji slowly lowered her to the ground.
“Cat, are you home? It's me, Roger.”
“Uh, just a sec!”
Cat turned to Benji. “Can you give us a minute?”
Benji squeezed her hand and started for the bedroom. She yanked on his arm to stop him.
“The money!”
He nodded and hurried to the kitchen while she dashed into the bedroom and came out wearing her pink bathrobe. Benji, holding a stack of cash in his eager hands, blew her a kiss as he passed; then he disappeared into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.
After cinching her bathrobe and smoothing out her hair, Cat opened the front door.
A pensive Roger waited patiently in the hallway.
“Hey, Roger. Come in.”
He gave her a once-over but said nothing, too polite to mention her frizzy hair or Playboy makeover.
“I know it’s late, but I figured you’d be up,” he said, following her back to the living room.
She sat down on the couch and gestured for him to take the chair.
“I take it you’ve heard?”
“I was having dinner with George when your shore excursion came on the news.”
“How’s George taking it?”
“Taking … what? His cheating wife? His traitorous brother? Or losing the Soldiers?”
“What’s gonna happen to the team?”
“He’s meeting with the commissioner to sort everything out. I imagine he’ll regain control.”
With a sigh of relief, Cat rose. “Thank God. Why don’t I put on a pot of coffee and give you a firsthand account of tonight. You’re not going to believe it.”
Roger stood and placed his hand on her arm.
“Cat, I didn’t stop by for coffee.”
She searched his hesitant, tired face. He wouldn’t look her in the eye.
“Roger? What is it?”
He finally drew his gaze up.
“It’s George Hudson.”
“He’s angry with me, isn’t he?”
He silently nodded.
“But I helped him.” She reconsidered that for a beat. “I mean, after exposing his deepest darkest secret to the entire baseball world, but if it wasn’t for Kiki and James—”
“He’s not thinking rationally, Cat. Can you blame him?”
“Would it help if I spoke with him?”
“No!” Roger cleared his throat to compose himself. “That's not a good idea. I think it might be best if you and the Soldiers took a little break. We’re in the offseason now, unfortunately, so why don’t we just take the winter to reevaluate?”
“Reevaluate?” Cat swallowed. “You mean you’re firing me?”
“No, it's just …” Roger sighed and met her eyes again. “George wants me to.”
“Are you sure? Maybe you heard him wrong.”
“His exact words were, ‘Either she’s gone or you are.’ ”
“Oh.”
“He’s upset, Cat, but he’ll calm down. This will all blow over and come next season, you’ll still be my ace reporter. I’m gonna go to bat for you, I swear. But we’ve got to let the dust settle.”
“Roger, I can’t just sit out the offseason. Who’s going to cover the fan convention or tweet updates about roster moves?”
“I'll figure out something.”
“But …” Cat slumped against the back of the chair. “What am I supposed to do without baseball?”
“I might be able to help with that,” Benji said, appearing in the doorway. He stepped inside the living room. “Hello, Roger. I'm sorry to interrupt.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Benji. This is your home.”
“What do you mean, you might be able to help?” Cat asked.
“VBU has just been named the recipient of the Oceanic Institute’s grant for a study abroad program in the Galapagos Islands. The dean asked me today if I'd be interested in leading it.”
“When did this happen? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I knew you couldn’t go because of your job and I didn’t want to go without you, but now—”
“Perfect!” Roger exclaimed.
“I know! I mean, the timing couldn’t be better.”
Cat gaped at both men’s ecstatic faces.
“Well, it looks like the two of you have this all figured out,” she replied tersely. “Except for the part about asking me what I want to do.”
Benji’s smile faded. “Of course I want to talk about it.”
“A semester in Ecuador? That’s a lot to think about.”
“It’s not for a semester. It’s for a year.”
She blinked.
“One year? I can’t take a whole year off.”
“Why not? I heard what Roger said about taking a hiatus.”
“Yeah, a hiatus. That’s, maybe, a month?” She turned to Roger. “That’s what you meant, right?”
Roger backed up a step.
“Look, it sounds like
you two have a lot to talk about, I’ll just get out of your, uh,” his eyes flicked to Cat’s head, “hair.”
She self-consciously ran her hand over her frizzy hair and escorted him down the hallway to the front door.
“Let me know what you decide, Cat.”
He opened the door and lowered his head to whisper, “For what it's worth, I think you should go.”
“How much of that is just to assuage your own guilt?”
“Sixty-forty.” He grinned his big, goofy, gapped-tooth smile.
“I'll call you tomorrow, Roger.”
She smiled softly as she closed the door. Benji was right behind her.
“Let’s talk about this.”
“Can’t we discuss it tomorrow?”
She headed for the bedroom; Benji on her heels.
“No, I want to hear what you’re thinking now.”
“You really want to go to South America?”
“Cat, this is the Galapagos Islands. I mean, Darwin went there on his Voyage of the Beagle. His research led to the formation of the theory of natural selection. It’s a laboratory of evolution and every scientist’s dream.”
This day officially couldn’t get any worse. Her shaky voice betrayed her feigned altruism as she said, “Then you should go.”
“No, we should.” He grabbed her hand. “I want you to come with me. It’s perfect. You’ve got the time off, you speak Spanish and after this, we could use a break.”
“There’s no baseball.”
“Who cares? There’s nature, real non-bastardized nature, where animals don’t merely exist until they become a meal or clothing. They live … really live. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Baseball will be here for you when we get back.”
“One year? A whole year?”
“Yeah! Whatta ya say?”
Cat didn’t say anything. Instead, she plopped down on the floral comforter and turned her head to her nightstand. Her framed Ron Santo baseball card stared back at her.
EPILOGUE
The plane sped off the runway and soared into the clear, sunny sky. Cat’s stomach jumped in response.
“Are you nervous?” Benji asked.
“Nervous?”
His gaze flickered down and she removed her hand from her roiling stomach and set it on their shared armrest.
“Nah, I've flown more times this baseball season than most people do in their entire lives.”
“I didn’t mean about the flight. I was referring to our new life.”
“Oh.” She smiled sheepishly. “A little. It’s a big change.”
His hand joined hers on the armrest.
“It’s gonna be great. You’ll love it.”
“Tell me why again.”
His cheeks dimpled at the challenge.
“Let me walk you through tomorrow morning. Imagine waking up to the sounds of waves crashing against the volcanic rocks. We’ll go out on our balcony and have breakfast with blue-footed boobies and bright pink flamingos, then go for a walk on a pristine white sand beach, side by side with iguanas and penguins, before snorkeling with sparkling coral and eagle rays.”
“And ginormous turtles,” she added with a playful smile of her own.
“And ginormous tortoises.”
As the plane made a steep climb, Benji placed his hands over his ears and cringed. “I need gum.”
He leaned over and dug through his backpack under the seat.
Window shades around them began to slam shut, mellowing the bright cabin. Cat reached for her own tiny window shade, but before she could shut it, the landscape below caught her eye. She closed her eyes and tried to envision the tropical tableau Benji had just described, but when she opened them, the clustered cityscape remained. The Buffalo River snaked around yellow and orange trees and glittering skyscrapers, all shrinking as the plane inched into the sky. She craned her neck to get a better view, stopping just short of pressing her nose to the window glass.
Then, there it was.
Soldiers Stadium.
From up here, it appeared to be just a dingy brown diamond. It was so much more than that, though. She imagined it with nine Soldiers on the field and forty-thousand fans in the empty stands. She added an opposing batter at home plate and pictured the orange-jerseyed pitcher striking him out to end the inning. The imaginary fans jumped to their feet to celebrate. It was a scene she’d been part of so many times this season.
With a blink, the daydream vanished, and she gazed once again at the empty ballpark, shrinking with each passing second. As the plane ascended into a cloud, Soldiers Stadium faded to oblivion.
Born and raised in Illinois, Jen Estes started her writing career as a baseball blogger in 2007 and moved on to freelance sports writing in 2009. She is an active member of the Society of American Baseball Research (SABR), Springfield Poets & Writers and the National Writers Union (NWU). Jen has published two other novels in the Foul Ball series, Big Leagues and Curveball, both featuring sassy sports writer Cat McDaniel. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys running, yoga, traveling and watching baseball with her husband and cat. You can find Jen on the net at www.jenestes.com and on Twitter @jenestesdotcom.