Out in left field, Trevor caught the ball Dwight whipped toward him, then hurled it back to Bunner at second in the last “around the horn” before the game started. His shoulder felt nice and loose, his arm strong. Too bad he wouldn’t get one more chance to play before Grizz. He’d begged his old friend to come down to Kilby with the team and watch the rest of the series. But Grizz had elected to go home and rest up.
“It’s enough that I got to see you play the way I always knew you could,” he told Trevor.
“If I get the call-up to San Diego, I’m flying you in.”
“Done deal. I’ll be there. But make it quick, boy. I can’t hang on forever.” He winked at Trevor and the other players, who had clustered around to shake his hand and get his autograph. Watching the respect his teammates gave Grizz made Trevor want to shoulder bump every single one of them.
And to think he had Paige to thank for the chance to see Grizz again. Hungry for the sight of her after a day of deprivation, he glanced over at the owner’s box. Two empty seats glared back at him.
No Paige. No Nina.
Crush, armed with his Armani shades, sprawled in his seat as if the outcome of the game made no difference to him. Next to him sat Mayor Trent, her posture upright, hair teased to Texas politician poufiness, a Go Kilby smile on her face. Behind them sat Marcia Burke and a few other members of the management staff who Trevor didn’t recognize. And there, at the front of the box, the shocking absence of Paige and Nina.
Maybe they were in the ladies’ room. Both of them. Maybe they’d gotten stuck in traffic on their way to the stadium. No reason to be alarmed yet.
Trevor spent the top of the first inning lecturing himself not to panic. There was a perfectly reasonable explanation for their absence; he just didn’t know it yet. Luckily, no balls made it to left field. Farrio retired the side with only one hit, a harmless single. As Trevor jogged to the dugout, he tried to catch Crush’s eye, hoping to get a read on whether he was worried. But the owner was caught up in a conversation with the mayor and never looked in his direction.
None of the first three Catfish batters got on base, which meant that Trevor only got as far as the on-deck circle before the inning ended. After handing off his bat and helmet to the bat boy, he jogged slowly to left field again, scanning the aisles and seats for a glimpse of tumbling brown locks or Nina’s short blond tuft of hair. Maybe they’d decided to sit somewhere else this time. Maybe Crush had asked them to stay out of sight. Maybe he was being paranoid.
Maybe love was making him nuts.
He barely followed the action on the field during the second inning. With one out, two Storm Chasers got on base, and the next batter hit a long fly ball to left. Lost in anxious thoughts about Paige and Nina, he didn’t even notice until Dwight screamed his name. With Dwight yelling the entire time, he ran at top speed to chase down the ball. When he caught it, pure muscle memory told him to twist in midair and whip it back to second base.
A 7-4-3 double play. End of inning. No score.
The radio play-by-play drifted into earshot as he ran to the dugout. “As so often happens, the guy who makes a brilliant play to end the inning is the first up to bat. Trevor Stark has been unbelievable this entire series. Watching him is like watching a chess grandmaster playing in a public park or a NASCAR champ in a bumper car. He’s always been a player to watch, but now he seems to have hit turbo boost on his game. The Friars have got to be salivating right about now. My guess is, we get through the championship and bye-bye Trevor Stark.”
Trevor rolled his eyes as he swung into the dugout. Stupid commentary. He hoped none of the other players took it seriously. If Dwight hadn’t gotten his attention out there, he would have missed that play by a mile. Baseball was a team sport, why didn’t anyone seem to remember that? Especially the Wades.
At the reminder, a chill shot through him. In that dark little side street in Omaha, he’d made Paige promise to watch all the games, and to make sure Nina came too. Maybe it was selfish, but it relieved him of worry. She’d said, Where else would we be?
But she wasn’t here.
Batting helmet and gloves on, he grabbed his favorite bat and went to the plate. The next time he checked, the girls would be there. They’d be settling into their seats with drinks or waving bright blue foam catfish.
But the two seats were still empty. Crush was deep in conversation with Mayor Trent, their heads bent together. Cozy as hell. But where were Paige and Nina?
With one foot out of the batter’s box, he took a practice swing. Mechanics were good, no pain, he felt nice and loose and warmed up. Powerful, as if home runs would come streaming off his bat. He knew the Storm Chaser pitcher well, knew that his curveball didn’t always drop and that he threw more than his share of wild pitches. Already he could see the fear in the hurler’s eyes.
If it weren’t so early in the game, he’d probably get walked. But the manager wouldn’t call for a walk now, especially with no one on base.
Here came the first pitch. Wide and outside. Ball one. Trevor backed out of the box, glanced again at the owner’s box. No Paige. Where else would she be?
Second pitch. Another ball, so wide the catcher barely managed to save it.
I’ll be staring at you the entire time.
Ball three barely cleared his ankles. In the owner’s box, Crush laughed at something the mayor was saying. No Paige. No Nina.
Trevor couldn’t take it anymore. He stepped out of the batter’s box. “I’m out,” he told the umpire.
“Huh?”
“I’m out. Tell Duke or whatever you’re supposed to do.”
He jogged across the infield diamond. All around him, shock waves reverberated. He heard confused murmurs from the audience and a “What the fuck?” from the Storm Chaser third baseman as he cruised past. The play-by-play radio announcer was going nuts. “With three balls and no strikes, Trevor Stark just did something so bizarre, I can’t think of a single precedent in all my years in baseball. Instead of completing the at-bat, he is now running across the field, straight toward the third base line. Everyone else is backing away, in case they have a lunatic on their hands. If so, that sure would explain a lot about Trevor Stark’s erratic history since he signed that big contract with the Friars.”
He ignored all of it and ran straight to the padded barrier along the third base line.
“Crush!” he yelled. “Crush Taylor!”
The entire stadium went quiet. People stood on their seats, craned their necks, shushed each other. So much for acting normal.
Crush’s head swiveled around and he ripped off his sunglasses. “What the—”
“Where are Paige and Nina?” Trevor asked urgently. If anyone understood how important this was, it would be Crush.
A frown creased Crush’s forehead, but Trevor couldn’t tell what it meant. Duke appeared at Trevor’s elbow, screaming. “You’re out. You hear me? I’m taking you out of this game.”
Trevor held him off with one hand. “I already took myself out. Crush, have you seen them here today?”
Slowly, Crush rose to his feet. “Haven’t seen them.”
“Call Paige.”
Holding his gaze, Crush dialed Paige’s number, then slowly shook his head. Panic flooded Trevor’s body, made the blood pound in his ears. “Something’s wrong, Crush. Alert security. Please.”
“Calling right now.” He pushed a button on his phone. “Meet me in the concourse, Trevor.” He bent to say something to Wendy Trent. She nodded and got to her feet.
“What’s going on? What’s happening?” Duke kept jabbering questions at him. The other Catfish poured out of the dugout to join the two of them beneath the owner’s box. Trevor needed to go in the opposite direction, toward the dugout, so he could reach the concourse. He tried to muscle through the throng of his teammates, but Dwight blocked his way.
“Tell us what’s happening, Trevor.”
“I have to get through.” He scrambled for his usual icy calm, bu
t it was no use. Images of glinting knives and vicious men kept chasing through his head. His heart raced so fast he could barely draw a breath, let alone speak. His words came out in a stammer. “Paige is missing, and so is Nina. I can’t explain it all right now, but it’s bad. They could be in danger. I need to get through. Let me through.”
But instead of letting him through, they surrounded him and buoyed him toward the dugout. In his terrified state, Trevor barely understood what was happening. All he knew was that his teammates whisked him through the dugout and down the corridor and before he knew it he was on the concourse. Crush strode toward him, trailed by the head of stadium security, who was issuing commands into his headpiece.
The owner paused at the sight of the throng of players. “What the hell? Who’s supposed to be batting right now?”
“Me, I guess,” said Ramirez. “Duke, you better replace me.”
“With who?” The manager rolled onto the concourse, rubbing his belly. “Ain’t no one in the dugout to replace you.”
Crush raised his hand for quiet. “Question for you all, since you’re here instead of where you’re supposed to be. Who’s up for a search party?”
A jumble of voices answered in a chaotic free-for-all. Finally Dwight’s deep voice cut through the chaos. “If Paige is in danger, none of us want to be on that field.”
“Fair enough. Bob, brief them on what we know so far while I make a call.” Crush turned aside to mutter into his phone, out of earshot of the players.
The security chief, a potbellied, nearly bald former cop, addressed the group of players. “According to the guards at the exits, no cars have left the lot in the past hour. Paige was seen entering in Crush’s Range Rover about forty-five minutes ago. What that means is that chances are good that she’s still somewhere in the stadium.”
“And my sister Nina? Small, blond?”
“There was someone in the Range Rover with Paige, but the guard didn’t get a good look at her. We’re going on the assumption it was her.”
Crush ended his call and rejoined them.
“Mr. Taylor, what do you want me to do with the people in the stands?” the security chief asked.
“I’ll handle that. You get these guys organized.”
“Yes, boss.”
“Trevor, come with me.” Crush beckoned him off to the side.
As Trevor followed, a TV mounted in the corridor caught his attention. Donna MacIntyre and Mayor Trent were at the pitcher’s mound, where a mic had been set up.
“Hello, Kilby Catfish fans, and welcome to our guests here from Omaha. I’m the mayor of Kilby, Wendy Trent, and I have an important announcement for y’all. The Kilby Catfish have decided to forfeit this game.”
The audience erupted into boos.
“I know, I know, they’re so sorry for the inconvenience to y’all. Unfortunately, we have a potentially dangerous situation happening here in the stadium, and we want all of y’all to be safe. The head of security has asked that you all stay right where you are until further notice. We don’t want anyone taking any risks with their safety. As soon as they feel it’s safe for you to leave, we’ll let you know. In the meantime, Ms. Donna MacIntyre has some games and contests to help keep you entertained. Thank you all so much for your patience and cooperation.”
Crush shook his head in admiration. “Hell of a woman, that mayor. Come on, Manning is waiting for us.”
Trevor glanced back at the Catfish, who were now being joined by members of the security team to listen to the chief’s instructions. Dwight caught his eye and sent him a reassuring wink.
And just like that, he knew. Never again would he shut anyone out. Paige had melted all that ice away from his heart, leaving nothing but love and a desperate need to get her back in his arms and never let her go.
Chapter 28
“WHAT ARE YOU talking about?” The kidnapper scowled at Nina as if she’d grown an extra head. His phone rang but he ignored it.
“I’m talking about the crime that my brother confessed to. That he went to juvie for,” Nina explained patiently. “He didn’t do it. I did.”
“When Dinar got his head smashed with a bat?”
Nina winced. “Yes. I didn’t mean to hurt him, I just wanted him to get off my father.”
“You’re telling me a little girl like you did him in?”
Paige rolled off Nina, since there seemed to be no point in getting her to stop talking now.
“Well . . . I’m not a little girl, although I guess I was back then, and I didn’t ‘do him in.’ He’s fine, right?”
“He’s alive. Never did get his killer instinct back. It’s like you messed something up in his brain.”
“Sorry,” Nina said in a small voice, dropping her head. “I really didn’t mean for that to happen. I didn’t mean any of it. Not what I did to Dinar, not what happened to Trevor afterward. I’m trying to make up for it.”
“How do you make up for a man’s brain not working right? Wait a minute.” The man used his phone to scratch at his scraggly beard. “Is it you that’s been sending him packages? Books and music and so forth?”
Nina gasped. “How did you know about that?”
“It ain’t a secret. Wait’ll I tell him it was a girl that bashed his head in.” He grinned, revealing a flash of silver in his dental work.
Nina blew a wisp of blond hair out of her face. “You shouldn’t make fun of him. I always had a strong swing, just like my brother.”
The kidnapper just chortled, as if already composing the insults he was going to deliver.
Paige stared in amazement at the girl handcuffed to her. “You’ve been sending presents to that man? The one who attacked your father?”
Nina turned pink. “Well, yes. I just felt so bad about everything. I just wanted him to get off my dad, I didn’t mean to hurt him that much. I found out that he was still having some cognitive issues and I read that more mental stimulation can help repair the nerve synapses. I was just trying to help him get better.”
“Wow.” Paige rubbed her forehead, trying to get a grip on this crazy development. “Does Trevor know you tracked down the Wachowski gang member that you sent to the hospital?”
“Of course not! And I never put my address on my care packages. I always sent them anonymously. I never visited him in person because Trevor would have lost his mind if I did that. But I had to do something, especially because Trevor was the one who paid for my crime. Anyway . . .” Nina turned back to their kidnapper. “If you could inform the Wachowskis that they have no more reason to go after Trevor Leonov, I’d really appreciate it. I’m taking full responsibility for my actions. I no longer want someone else to pay for what I did. Can you just tell them that, do you think?”
“Leonov’s a marked man, little sister. No matter what you say.” The man’s phone rang again. He rolled his eyes. “Micromanaging dickface,” he muttered, then answered it. Then he flinched, all bravado vanishing. “You’re fucking kidding me. Not my fault, boss.”
Paige and Nina glanced at each other as the kidnapper took in a stream of ugly-sounding words, color leaching from his face.
“I followed instructions. That’s all I got to say. I told you we should’ve— Right. No excuses. Want me to bring the girl? Hostage, like?” A sharp response made him cringe and go slightly green. “Fine. Just get me out of here and no one’s the wiser.”
He hung up and stuck his phone into the inner jacket of his pocket, muttering to himself. “This ain’t my fucking fault. Shit. They pin this on me, I’m back to zero.” He looked at the women with a freaked-out expression that actually made Paige feel sorry for him. “I’m out. You girls owe me a pair of handcuffs.”
“What do you mean? What’s going on?” As nasty as the kidnapper was, getting left in a deserted storage room made Paige even more anxious. No one ever came up here until it was time to discard another couch.
“What’s going on is, they took a half-assed approach and now it’s backfired. They didn�
�t let me go after Leonov. Said it wasn’t the right time. This is just some frickin’ favor for someone. Now it’s all fucked up and I’m screwed unless—” Something occurred to him. “Unless Notswego still has a soft spot for you.”
She shook her head violently. “We’re through. Definitely through.”
“Tough luck for all of us. I gotta get out of here.” He loped toward the far end of the storage room, where a back stairway led to . . . Paige’s heart sank as she realized that it led to a delivery bay that wasn’t used anymore. It would be easy for him to disappear over the chain-link fence back there. It wasn’t guarded or monitored.
“You can’t just leave us here!” Paige called after him. “What was the whole point of this, anyway?”
“The point is, it’s always the new guy who gets screwed, ever notice that? I’d go grab Leonov myself, but the boss didn’t want to hear about that.” With a rude gesture, the kidnapper yanked open the door that led to the stairway.
Paige yelled, “If you let us go, we’ll say you didn’t hurt us.”
The door slammed shut with a loud boom.
Paige and Nina looked at each other as quiet settled around them. Dust rose from the couch every time they shifted position. The air felt warm and stifling. “I get the feeling they didn’t exactly send their top guy down here.”
“Should we be insulted?” Nina let out a long sigh. “Thank you for getting kidnapped with me. If you weren’t here, I’d be pretty scared. And you know what? I’m actually not. Well, not terribly, anyway. I’m more scared of what they’re going to do to Trevor later on. They definitely know he’s here. Do you think that man will pass my message along to the Wachowskis?”
“I don’t know. He sure seemed to get a kick out of it.” Paige surveyed the couch. “Can we try dragging the couch to the elevator?”
“Do you think it would fit in there?” Nina glanced dubiously at the couch.
“I have no idea, but maybe we can set off the alarm in the elevator or something. On three, let’s try standing up.”
On the count of three, they both rose to their feet. Nina tried to step forward with the foot that was zip-tied to the leg of the couch but didn’t even manage to budge it. “Should we sit on the floor and try to drag it?”
Drive You Wild: A Love Between the Bases Novel Page 28
