Carson nodded his head, deep in thought. “What really happened to your face?”
“That’s not the point!”
“So you didn’t fall?”
“Wade hit me,” I said, my voice rising louder than I meant it to. “He attacked me because he knew about Derek.”
“We can report this! You’re the proof!”
“Trust me,” I said. “The answer’s no. Can we focus?”
“Okay.”
“Back to what I was saying. I think Wade’s hiding the drugs he sells in his uncle’s golf bag.”
“Who would think to look there?”
“Exactly.”
“So we need to talk to his uncle Jim.”
“Are you kidding?” I said. “Have you seen him?”
“So then what?”
There was a moment of silence. “What if Wade’s not working alone?” I said finally.
“Someone on the team?”
I nodded.
Carson smiled. “Sounds like we’re doing a shakedown.”
At lunch, I sat with Carson while we ate a couple of burritos. We used a napkin to draw the Sharks depth chart. Each Shark was placed at his position on the crudely drawn diamond. “So who do you want to go after?” I asked.
“My first choice is Darren, but that would just be stupid.”
“Then I say we go after Wade’s dogs.”
Carson placed his hand over his chest. “Please. You know how much I hate that term.”
I bought Carson some churros to cheer him up. The hard part, I figured, would be to find a way to scare them into ratting on Wade.
After lunch, we found Adrian in the science lab.
He glanced up from his experiment and didn’t look pleased to see us.
“We need to talk,” I said.
“Can’t. This science experiment is due today.”
“For?” I asked.
“Not Wade, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
I pointed. “That pale yellow substance is sulfuric acid. You add that sugar and mix it, better look out.”
Adrian looked at me.
“You’re about to make a dangerous mixture called the black snake. The sugar will turn black and then it will grow out of the beaker, creating sulfur dioxide. Not only will it stink, but it can be dangerous too.”
Adrian stepped back.
“You wouldn’t know because you’re in grade nine, but that’s the grade-twelve properties-of-substances assignment. Not only is Wade’s chem assignment late, but it’s also seriously dangerous.”
“Okay, fine. What do we need to talk about?” Adrian said.
Carson had insisted on a good cop, bad cop routine. “I’m worried about you, Adrian.” I was the good cop.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, still avoiding eye contact.
“What’s wrong?” Carson spewed back. “Don’t play the innocent card.”
Carson’s act was a bit over the top. We weren’t trying to scare Adrian away.
“You’re going down for the crime, my friend,” he carried on. Carson was definitely watching too many crime shows.
“What are you guys talking about?”
I needed to step in. “Please, just ask yourself—is it worth the risk of losing everything?”
“What risk?”
“Oh, I don’t know…the risk of you losing your spot on the team, graduating high school…and that’s just the start.”
“Guys, you’re freaking me out. So if this is a joke, ha-ha.”
“The only one laughing is Wade,” Carson said. “He’s using you.”
“So this is about Wade?” Adrian looked me square in the face. “He’s the captain of the team. I hate to say it, but everyone looks up to him. Not you.”
We weren’t going to crack him. It was time to wrap this up.
“Good luck—you’re going to need it,” I said, leading Carson out of the lab.
When we were out of earshot, I pulled Carson aside. “No more good cop, bad cop.”
“Yeah, that was a total bomb.”
“Atomic.”
Chapter Seventeen
The next day, we found Tom in the library over lunch hour. We pulled up two chairs and sat next to him. I figured that if we couldn’t find out the truth, we’d just make it up.
“Tom, put the homework down. We know what you’ve been doing.”
He looked more confused than Adrian had.
I raised my voice just above the acceptable library volume. “We know you’re the one on the team that’s using drugs. And that you’re selling them too.”
“What? No!”
I stood and led him to the cover of the stacks. “I have proof.”
“I don’t use drugs.”
“Then who does?”
He paused. “No one that I know.”
“You’re a liar and I can prove it.” I walked back to the table and grabbed his backpack. I started to empty it. Books, pencils and a calculator flooded the table. Then, from a small zipped pocket in the front, I pulled out a plastic bag of white pills. “What are these then?”
I thought he was going to have a heart attack right then and there. Too bad he didn’t know they were just a few aspirin that Carson had planted seconds before. “You get caught with these and you have no future.”
“I didn’t know what to do.”
Carson and I exchanged a look. “What do you mean?”
Tom looked genuinely upset. His face was red like he was about to cry. “Nothing.”
“We can help you, Tom. You’re not alone.”
“Okay, fine.” He paused. “But we’ll have to skip final period.”
I nodded.
At two thirty, Carson and I met Tom in the parking lot.
“Where to?” I asked.
He looked around like someone might be watching him. Then he took off in a light sprint around the side of the school. He passed the basketball courts and walked toward the baseball diamond. He moved along the outfield fence and stopped at the 250-yard sign. “This is it.”
“Is this a trick? Is Wade waiting for us?”
“You said you’d help.”
“Okay, yes, we will. We trust you.”
Tom reached above the sign to the padding that outlined the top of the outfield fence. He lifted up a section of the padding to reveal a slender silver box attached to the metal bar with a magnet.
“What’s that?” Carson asked.
I answered for him. “Drugs.” I took the silver box and slid open the lid. Inside were green and white capsules and a handful of white pills just like the ones I’d seen in Wade’s uncle Jim’s golf bag.
“Flip it over,” Tom said.
The back had a magnet glued to it and a name cut into it. Tom.
“How did you know about this?” I asked Tom.
“I don’t trust Wade. I followed him one day.”
Tom grabbed the box back from me. “We need to get out of here.”
“Why don’t you just take it?” Carson asked.
“Because he’ll know. He said he’d kill—”
“You?”
“No. My dog.” Tom looked at me. “So, how are you going to help me?”
I thought about it for a minute, wanting to give him a good answer. “At baseball practice tomorrow, tell him I forced you to show this to me.”
“Are you crazy?” Carson said.
I shrugged. “Time will tell.”
Chapter Eighteen
At practice, I had one eye on Tom and the other on Carson. From the steps of the stands, Carson aimed his phone at Wade. It felt great to know that I finally had dirt on Wade. I just needed to seal the deal with proof.
The Sharks warmed up without a clue that drugs were hidden on the outfield fence. I had to admit, it was a brilliant hiding spot.
Wade tossed a ball with Rafael in the outfield. It didn’t take long for Tom to interrupt, pull Wade aside and tell him that I knew where the drugs were hidden.
I was smiling
behind my glove as Tom broke the news. The reaction on Wade’s face made my heart skip a beat. He turned to me, and I quickly looked away.
Wade joined two others in the outfield.
“That’s it,” I said under my breath, “go check on your stash.” I watched him in the outfield. He was in the vicinity of the 250 marker but couldn’t get enough privacy to do a quick check. He surprised me and moved along the outfield fence toward the gate. Were there more containers? Maybe they had all our names on them, like insurance plans. Then I saw his uncle Jim at the gate. Wade approached him, and they immediately broke into an argument.
I waved Carson over and inched toward them to get a better look. Wade seemed to be pleading with his uncle.
They walked through the gate and out of sight. I rushed to the parking lot and made it in time to see two men appear and grab Wade.
Panicked, I ran toward Wade as he tried to struggle free. Before I could get there, they tossed him into the open door of a black Escalade SUV and drove off.
Still in shock, I spotted Carson next to me, phone in hand.
I reached for my keys but forgot that I was in my uniform. “My keys are in my pants in the change room. Get my car and find me. Tell the coaches I don’t feel well and you’re driving me home.”
“But I’ve only got my learner’s license.”
“Run!”
I ran as hard as I could through the gate and past the basketball courts. When I got to the main parking lot, I spotted the SUV driving down Shark Way. The red brake lights came on as they neared the stop sign. I remembered that there was a large median on Immokalee Road. They had to go right.
I bolted down Shark Way and turned right. With no sign of Carson, I didn’t know what to do, so I kept running.
Up ahead, red brake lights caught my attention again. The SUV was making a left at the stoplight. I checked for traffic and darted across to the median.
When the SUV’s left turn became a U-turn, I backtracked along the median. Now the SUV was heading toward me. I knew Jim would see me, sticking out from the scenery in my baseball uniform. There was a small palm tree, barely taller than I was. I ducked down next to it, hiding among the bushes lined up on either side of the tree.
The SUV passed, and I turned. I was out of steam. My only hope was Carson.
I jumped up when I saw my Mustang puttering along the side of the road. It took forever for a truck to pass so that I could get safely into my car. I leaped into the passenger seat, startling Carson. “Make a U-turn!”
Carson gripped the steering wheel. I watched as he painstakingly checked and rechecked the driver’s side and rearview mirrors.
“Come on, come on…let’s roll!”
My car screeched as Carson put it into first gear.
“Clutch, then release with gas.”
He struggled to shift out of first.
“They’re getting away. Get out.” He pulled over and we switched spots. “You drive worse than an old man.” After making a U-turn at the light, we drove in silence for a couple of miles.
Carson was first to talk. “I aced my DMV test.”
“Doesn’t matter now. They got away.” I could feel his eyes on me. “Sorry. It’s not your fault.”
The tension in the car started to ease up.
Carson had his phone out. “I think we should call the cops.”
“And what would we say to them?”
“Good point.”
We did another mile in silence. The only sound was the replay of Wade and Jim’s argument coming from Carson’s phone. “His uncle Jim looks like a wrestler,” Carson said.
We both looked at each other. “The gym!” My stomach dropped when I didn’t see the SUV near the entrance of Club 21 Fitness. Then I spotted it parked in the far corner of the lot. It looked empty. We decided our only option was to go into the gym.
We walked through the front doors, scanning the room. To our left were rows of rubber torsos on stands. A large man was knocking the plastic brains out of one rubber man. To our right was a large collection of weight-lifting equipment.
An incredibly fit woman greeted us at the front desk. “How can I help you?”
Carson was silent. It was up to me. “Can we check out a membership?”
“Sure. Let me get somebody—”
“Actually, do you mind if we just look around first?”
She smiled. Her teeth were white and perfectly straight. “Sure. Let me know when you’re ready.”
I avoided the scary-looking dudes pumping weights and walked into an open area with a boxing ring.
“She’s cute.”
“Carson, can we focus?”
He nodded.
I pointed to a set of doors with a sign that read Employees Only.
“Act like you belong,” I whispered.
We passed through the doors into a small warehouse. There were a few desks and lots of boxes. An open box nearby was filled with bottles labeled Raptor-Xtreme bodybuilding supplement.
I continued to lead Carson through the zigzag of boxes. Then my stomach hit the floor. I spotted Wade sitting on a chair, surrounded by Jim and his two sidekicks. I could see that Wade’s hands were tied behind his back. I was beginning to doubt that Jim was Wade’s real uncle.
I pulled back to safety.
Carson whispered, “Can we call the cops now?”
I eyed a phone sitting on a desk. It took a while to figure out that I had to press Line 1 and then the number nine to get a dial tone. I dialed 9-1-1 and whispered, “Emergency…Club 21 Fitness…Jim,” to the person on the other end and then gently placed the phone back down.
Carson’s hands were shaking. “We need to leave.”
I shook my head and led Carson to cover behind a row of shelves.
Jim stood over Wade, pointing his finger. “I keep giving you chance after chance to pay.”
“A few more days,” Wade said, pulling on his restraints.
“And what did I say I’d do if you didn’t get the money?”
Wade struggled to break free.
“That’s right. How are you going to play baseball if you’re injured?”
“Where are the cops?” I said.
Carson insisted, “We need to go.”
As scared as I was, leaving Wade was not an option. “We need to distract them. Can you do that?”
Carson took off. After a few moments of silence, I started to wonder if he was going to come back. Then I heard the photocopy machine come to life.
So did Jim. “You two, go see what that’s all about.”
I ducked behind a desk and the two hulks walked past me. Where is Carson?
“Boss, check this out.”
My heart sank. Did they catch him?
“Someone’s running nine hundred copies… of their butt cheeks.”
“What?!” Jim hustled past me to have a look. I stood and felt a tap on my shoulder. When I turned, I was relieved to see Carson. We hurried over to Wade.
Wade’s eyes went wide. He looked like he was in shock. “Griff? What are you doing here?”
I quickly ripped the tape off his wrists and ankles. “We’ve gotta get you out of here.”
“Follow me,” Wade said. “I know another way out.”
We ducked around the boxes, heading in the opposite direction from Jim. The back door came into view, and I could almost taste the fresh air. Then a golf driver sliced through the air in front of me. I skidded to a stop and Carson bumped into me, almost knocking me over.
Jim stepped out from behind a stack of boxes.
Wade didn’t hesitate, breaking sharply to the left.
I tried to keep up with Wade, but he was moving too fast. Within seconds I was lost and out of breath.
“There’s no escape!” Jim called out.
I stood doubled over at the waist, trying to slow down my breathing. I was surprised to hear Wade’s voice. “Don’t hurt them—they don’t know anything.”
“Fine with me. Show yourself an
d they can go out the back.”
“All right. Guys, it’s okay,” Wade said. “Come on out.”
I peeked around the corner. Wade was standing at a distance from Jim and the two men. One of them held the back door open.
Each step I took was one step closer to escaping this hell. I saw Carson come out from the shadows. He’s your younger cousin. Carson goes out first. When we got to the door, I gestured for Carson to go ahead of me. Then, out of nowhere, someone pushed me forward. I fell into the goon holding the door, taking him and Carson down with me. When I looked up, all I could see was Wade, out in the back parking lot, running for his life. Then the door slammed shut.
Chapter Nineteen
“Wade!” I screamed his name until I thought my ears might bleed.
Jim signaled and one of his goons took off after Wade. The other goon handed Jim a piece of paper. It was a photocopy of Carson’s butt. Jim held it out to us and shook his head. Normally, I would have laughed.
I eyed the door and tried to calculate the odds of making it out alive. But I wasn’t going to ditch Carson. My mind raced for ways to escape, and I kept coming back to that door.
“I didn’t know Wade had friends,” Jim said, a sinister smile on his face.
I wasn’t sure what Jim had planned for us. I screamed as loud as I could.
Carson started screaming too. Then our voices were joined by a louder sound.
Police sirens.
I had almost forgotten that we’d called the police. Thank you, Carson!
Jim looked at his goon in disbelief. “Seriously?”
The PA crackled and a woman announced, “Mr. Muller, you are needed at the front desk.”
The weight of the goon keeping me down made it challenging to breathe. “They’re going to be looking for me.”
“You called?”
The PA squawked again. This time the voice was more urgent. “Mr. Muller, you are needed at the front desk.”
“And what if I call your bluff?” Jim asked.
I stared back at him.
The voice on the pa broke the standoff. It asked for Jim again, this time adding the words “Collier County Police.”
Jim, in a frustrated voice, barked, “Get him up.”
On my feet, I struggled to breathe normally.
Hardball Page 7
