No Easy Catch (Carmen Sisters)

by Pat Simmons

  “Really?” Rahn smirked. “Your eyes tell me everything I want to know about what you’re thinking.” He stood and reached for her hand. “Come on, baby. Let’s finish up your excursion in the shoe department.”

  Their time together began to run out, with Rahn scheduled to leave soon for spring training. The morning wakeup Scriptures and nightly chats had never meant as much to Shae as they did now. Finally, it came down to the last candlelight dinner they would share in a long while.

  “Remember how I told you the first day I took you to work that I was going to miss you?” Rahn whispered. “That hasn’t changed.”

  The ambiance of the restaurant and the sincerity on his face made Shae’s eyes mist. “Me, too.”

  Rahn reached across the table, took her hand, and raised it to his lips. She shivered as he tickled each finger with soft kisses, then took her other hand and did the same thing, except that he kissed only one finger.

  The gesture was far more seductive than Shae should allow, but she was enjoying it nonetheless. “Why did you stop?”

  “Because each finger represents the number of weeks I’ll be away from you at spring training—six—and six is the number of kisses I hope to collect before I go.”

  Six kisses. Shae doubted she could survive one kiss and not be drugged. She squirmed under his scrutiny.

  Linking his fingers through hers, Rahn seemed ready to pour out his soul. “Know that every time I watch the local news, I’ll think of you; every time I read my Bible, I’ll think of you; and every time I hear a woman sing, I’ll think of you and have the nerve to silently boast that you could sing it better.”

  Touched by his confidence in her, Shae blinked, and a tear escaped. Rahn’s thumb was quick to catch it. If only she could package up his touch and retrieve it every time she missed him.

  Shae did her best to recover quickly, so as not to become an emotional mess in public. She slipped her hand out of his grip and excused herself to the restroom. Once there, she fanned herself. “Whew.” She didn’t want him to go, but maybe they both needed six weeks to cool their hormones.

  ***

  Once all the Cardinals players had descended on Jupiter, Florida, Rahn had to rehash the old news about his brush with death. “I got saved after that,” he said, sharing his Nicodemus experience and referring his teammates to John 3 and Acts 2.

  “I just bet you did,” Cisco Martinez joked. The Dominican native was a great defensive catcher with impressive stats, and the team counted on him to make opposing players think long and hard about stealing bases. Like Marcus, he was Rahn’s friend on and off the field.

  Of course, Christ was the furthest thing from most of his colleagues’ minds, so his audience dwindled in the locker room at Roger Dean Stadium until it was only Cisco and Marcus.

  “Yep, the devil tried to set me up to take me down.” Rahn grunted. “But God turned it around, and in the midst of the drama, I met the most beautiful woman.”

  Cisco roared with laughter and slapped Rahn on the back. “I’m glad you’re safe, but you didn’t need God for that. You’ve never had a shortage of hotties.” He winked.

  “No, I haven’t,” Rahn admitted. He would have to accept that it would take a while for people to forget his past indiscretions.

  A few days into spring training, the Cardinals were ready to play their first exhibition game against the Miami Marlins. Begrudgingly, Rahn pushed aside all thoughts of Shae and put on his game face, ready to go to work.

  Hours later, despite their hustle, the Redbirds lost 4 to 3. As usual, everyone engaged in a mental rehashing of the errors that had cost them the win. Fortunately, none of the games in the so-called Grapefruit League counted.

  Once the team had showered, some of the players returned to their hotel rooms. Rahn, Marcus, and Cisco shared the amenities of the rented villa that was adjacent to a golf course and on the beach.

  When the trio walked through the door, they sniffed the evidence that their housekeeper had already prepared them a meal. After dinner, they reclined on the patio, talking shop.

  Cisco took a swig of his second bottle of beer. Although Rahn had been only a casual drinker before his pledge to Christ to live holy, he was tempted to ask their housekeeper to bring him one.

  Go for it. They won’t care. The thought floated in the back of his mind.

  You are called to live sanctified. God’s voice seemed to rumble in his head. Study My Word. Second Corinthians ten, verse five: Cast down every imagination that tries to exalt itself over My authority.

  I can do this, Jesus. Rahn got to his feet and went inside. With a mind to stay focused on his salvation, he strolled into the kitchen and grabbed two bottles of fruit juice from the fridge. He blessed his beverage, took a swig, then swaggered back outside to the fellows.

  Cisco eyed him with a wide Cheshire grin stretched across his face. “Marcus was briefing me on your media lady love until his wife called. Do fill in the blanks.”

  “Definitely. Shae Carmen is my favorite subject.” Rahn matched his smile as Marcus stepped in the house for privacy. “She’s a reporter during the week and a news anchor on the weekends. I’m serious about her. The buck might stop with this one.” He set down his bottle and stretched his arms behind his head, flexing his muscles. “As a matter of fact, I’d rather talk to her now than you two.”

  “Right.” Using his phone, Cisco searched the Internet for images of Shae and nodded. He scrutinized Rahn’s woman too long for his taste. “Whoa. She is gorgeous. I could see myself getting dipped in some water and joining a church after that harrowing scene, but why would you want to stop sampling other fine specimens?” Cisco looked skeptical.

  “Listen, my Santo Domingan brotha. I wasn’t dipped; I was submerged underwater, leaving my sins buried at the cross. I had plenty of things to repent of, and now my bad behavior and misguided decisions have been done away with.”

  Rahn took out his cell phone and pulled up his Bible study application, then showed the screen to Cisco. “I want to live by this Book now. I can’t chance God not stepping in to rescue me if there is a next time and I’m not living up to His standards.”

  Judging from Cisco’s dumbfounded expression, it didn’t appear that Rahn was getting through to his friend. “Shae’s the one for me. One look in her brown eyes and I got lost there. As a matter of fact, I couldn’t get her doll face out of my head, so I pulled out a pad and sketched her features in detail and sent it to her.”

  “He has it bad,” Marcus said, rejoining them. Evidently he’d overheard their conversation.

  “Um-hmm, until he sees another woman.” Evidently Cisco couldn’t accept that he’d changed.

  “I believe Rahn on this one, my friend,” Marcus said, backing him up.

  “Really?” Cisco gave Rahn a pointed look, then finished off his beer.

  “What more can I say?” Rahn exhaled. “She’s beautiful, created just the way a man likes, or to my heart’s specifications. She’s got curves and legs. But what drew me in was her concern for me as a man, not a celebrity.”

  Not one to easily be swayed from his opinions, Cisco switched the subject and gave his predictions on which rookie from the Cardinals’ Triple-A farm team would earn a spot on the permanent roster for the season.

  “I watched Dudley Williams at bat today and yesterday. He’s going to be some slugger,” Rahn commented, and his teammates agreed.

  Soon, Marcus was the first to call it a night. Not long after that, Rahn also abandoned Cisco for the solitude of his room, eager for Shae to get home from work so he could speak with her. Cisco had been right about his past. Rahn had never been one to have to wait for a woman. He’d always had plenty at his beck and call.

  But that was then, Rahn thought as he stretched out across the bed and closed his eyes. His mind drifted back to the night when it had been Shae’s brainy idea to take a stroll on the nearby walking trail in Forest Park, the pride and joy of St. Louis. Million-dollar-plus mansions overlooked th
e popular tourist attraction, which was larger than New York’s Central Park. Doctors, lawyers, and politicians preferred the proximity to the park’s zoo, art museum, fish pond, ice skating rink, golf course, and the Jewel Box, a conservancy that also was popular for weddings and receptions.

  Although it had been after eleven at night, he had obliged, taking her gloved hand in his. They had crossed Lindell at a leisurely pace and made a shoe path in the snow to the trail that circled the park.

  “Cold?” He had scanned her attire from her hat to her low-heeled leather boots.

  She’d shaken her head but snuggled closer, making him chuckle. They’d moved along unhurriedly, contemplating their own thoughts.

  “Shae,” he’d whispered.

  “Hmm?” When she’d glanced up, Rahn had delivered his first kiss. Her lips had been softer than he’d imagined, and seemed to be the only cold spot on her body. They paused in their tracks and indulged in the briefest kiss he had on record. When her eyes had fluttered open, she’d playfully scrunched her nose at him.

  “You cheated!” he’d teased.

  Giggling, she’d rested her head on his shoulder, and they’d resumed their stroll. “How?”

  “Your kiss.” He’d waited for his heart to regulate. “It’s a deadly weapon.”

  Rahn didn’t know how long he was caught up in the memories, but when he returned to the present, the villa was quiet.

  “Humph.” He grunted. “I never did collect all six of my kisses.”

  He planned to rectify that the moment he saw Shae.

  14

  Shae, don’t sit down,” the evening assignment editor yelled across the room, not bothering to leave his coveted spot behind the semicircular half wall that served as the newsroom’s information center. Every communication device known to man seemed to be housed there: computers, printers, scanners, fax machines, phones, and a whiteboard that listed stories and who was assigned to them.

  “I have a maniac driving around the NorthSide randomly firing bullets. He’s shot up a few cars, houses, and people. Take Jeff and get going—fast. I’ll text you the details. Be prepared to go live at six. The live truck is already on its way.”

  The cameraman in question had his feet propped up on a nearby desk. Suddenly he came to full attention like a watchdog, ready to go on the prowl. He rushed past Shae so fast, she had to run to catch up with him. Minutes later, they were climbing into his white SUV.

  Taking a deep breath, Shae prayed. Lord, it’s going to be one of those shifts. Please intervene. Her adrenaline pumped as Jeff raced to the address the assignment editor had texted her. Pandemonium was in full force by the time they arrived. The oversized live truck bearing the station’s logo was parked nearby, and its mast on top was cranked up, indicating that a satellite signal had been established back at the station.

  Once Jeff had parked, he grabbed his camera. As a team, they piggybacked off each other for scene video that would tell the story. After speaking with several witnesses, they agreed on three interviews to feature in Shae’s report.

  With more than enough video and less than twenty minutes to spare, Jeff and Shae climbed inside the back of KMMD’s live truck to the mini editing bay, where they selected the most compelling sound bites. Then, once satisfied with the one-minute reporter package they’d whittled it down to, Jeff fed the video and audio back to engineering at the station, where it would be cued ready to air.

  Next, Jeff located a safe spot near some yellow police tape to set up his tripod for the live shot. Meanwhile, Shae paced the sidewalk, going over her script. More sirens blared in the distance. When Jeff stuck the microphone in Shae’s hand, she stood in place and performed an audio check.

  “We’re coming to you in one minute,” came the producer’s voice through Shae’s earpiece, which she had just plugged into her battery pack.

  Shae strived to make her live shots intelligent, smooth, and compassionate for the victims, whether she had several hours or just several minutes to gather the news. Switching to “on-camera mode,” she listened to the theme music, then waited for Thomas Greenley, the main anchor, to introduce the top story.

  “Police are combing a North City neighborhood where a deadly shooting spree began. KMMD’s Shae Carmen is live on the scene with more details.”

  “Good evening, Thomas. Witnesses say at least four men riding in a green mid-sized car fired shots in the thirty-seven hundred block of Kossuth. Families are searching for answers after two people are dead and five victims injured, one critically.”

  She paused to allow the station to play the video Jeff had edited, and watched the small monitor at her feet, waiting for her cue to go live again.

  Thirty seconds later, she was back on camera. “The violence didn’t stop there. The driver turned the corner at a high rate of speed, sending bullets flying on Lee Avenue. Then, at least three gunmen were seen shooting aimlessly three blocks away, in the thirty-seven hundred block of Penrose.

  “Police have not released a motive or identified the victims, except to say they were young teenagers. We’ll have the latest on this deadly drive-by tonight at ten. I’m Shae Carmen, reporting live on the NorthSide. Now back to the studio.”

  Once the producer had cleared them, Shae dropped her professional persona. “Sometimes I hate my job,” she mumbled as she climbed into Jeff’s truck. They both needed to get something to eat, despite the unappetizing piece they’d just put together. After a quick meal, they would return to the scene to interview more witnesses and get pictures of the victims.

  Jeff turned the key in the ignition. “Yeah, folks don’t like to watch the news because it’s depressing.” He grunted. “They are the news. It’s just a reflection of their bad behavior. Wake up, people.” He was about to pull into traffic when more guns discharged and sirens grew louder.

  “There goes dinner,” Shae murmured.

  “Yep.” Jeff shifted the gear into park again. They needed to verify if another location had been added to the crime scene.

  Jesus, she cried within her spirit, we need You!

  God whispered a Scripture in response: “If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.”

  Shae knew 2 Chronicles 7:14 well. At that moment, she wished for Rahn’s strong arms around her so that they could pray together.

  15

  Rahn studied Shae’s features as they chatted on Skype the following morning. He wasn’t happy.

  “I’m safe—really,” Shae insisted, trying to appease him. “The police are at every crime scene. Plus, Jesus walks with me, remember, sweetie?”

  Sweetie. How could Rahn be upset with her when she used such endearments with him? Her sultry voice made him remember the sweet kisses they’d shared—and made him long for the ones that were waiting in the wings.

  As far as he was concerned, someone else could go into the trenches and cover the breaking news stories—not his woman. However, he held his peace. They’d had this very discussion not too long ago, on a different occasion when she’d been in the middle of crossfire. And Shae had held her ground. “This is what I was trained to do,” she’d said. “I’ve won awards for my work, and recent stories have been nominated, but I’ll be extra careful, in Jesus’ name.”

  “Thank you, baby, in Jesus’ name.” That was the only name that could pacify him—somewhat.

  “Well, I’m sorry you had a bad night at work,” Rahn said as soothingly as he could.

  Shae shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s the news business. Unfortunately, a slow news day makes for a boring newscast for advertisers. But I’m okay. Really.” She tried to sound convincing, but her acting was terrible. The weariness in her eyes betrayed her.

  Rahn massaged his temples and silently prayed, Lord, watch over her, please. “I’m not happy hearing about this after the fact. The next time something like this happens,
I want you to call me immediately,” he told her. “Please,” he added, to soften his demand.

  “I didn’t get home until after midnight, since I had to stay and write notes for the producer and the day shift reporters to follow up the next day, and I didn’t want to disturb your sleep.”

  He didn’t want to spend the little time they had to talk on a disagreement. Not once before meeting her had he thought about how the news affected the people who reported it. Shae’s job was becoming too stressful for him. Once Rahn returned to St. Louis, he would whisk her away for a day of pampering, shopping, or anything else she wanted to do that would drown out the ugliness of the world.

  “What about you, my baby?” he asked her. “How did you sleep?”

  “I thought about you and how I wished I could hear your voice and get a big hug,” she admitted softly.

  “Done as soon as I see you.”

  Shae blushed and lowered her eyelids with a sweep of her lashes.

  “Now, do you have a few minutes to swap Scriptures?”

  “Yes.” Her eyes brightened as she reached for her Bible.

  “I forget what I last read to you, but what comes to mind now is ‘I will be with you always, even until the end of time,’ or something similar.” He paused. “Baby, I care about you. I just can’t seem to turn off my concern for your sake.”

  She chuckled. “I know, but somebody has to work. We can’t all make money playing in a big yard with sticks.”

  Rahn laughed. The tension was broken.

  Shae gave him a coy smile. “The Scripture you referred to is Matthew twenty-eight, verse twenty; it’s talking about how, though we may not see Jesus physically, He’s always there, even on the streets of St. Louis.” She gave him a pointed stare. “My pastor back home once said, ‘When fear comes knocking at your door, let faith answer it. Once the door is opened, fear disappears.’”

  “I’ll try to remember that.” Rahn checked the time. Showing up late for practice was not an option. “Hey babe, I’ve got to run. But, for the record, I like boring news as long as you’re bringing it.”