I was now up, and the crowd made their presence known again. I absolutely loved this. The game was in extra innings, there was a hostile crowd calling for us to go down, and we had runners at first and third.
The catcher took one look at me and trotted out to have a word with his pitcher. Their little conference drew their assistant coach, who’d replaced the head coach, to the mound as well.
“Think they’re deciding whether to walk me?” I asked the umpire.
“That’s what I’d do,” he admitted.
He finally strolled out to break up their strategy session.
I was shocked when they decided to pitch to me. So much so that I missed the first pitch, which was a perfect fastball to hit. That made me mad at myself.
“Focus,” I hissed.
Both the umpire and catcher chuckled, which was the wrong thing to do. I stepped out of the box and let my anger fuel me. Taking a deep breath, I got back in the box, determined to win this game.
I managed to foul off the following thirteen pitches. I had to give the pitcher credit for fooling me several times. But with my quick hands, I managed to get a piece of the ball to keep myself alive each time.
The next three pitches weren’t even close, so I let them go to fill the count. It was do-or-die time. As soon as the pitcher threw the ball, I could tell he’d made a mistake. Either that, or he imagined he would fool me.
It was a waist-high fastball right down the center of the plate. I jerked my bat through the zone and made solid contact. The ball rocketed to dead center field. I impressed myself when it cleared the scoreboard. That would have been a home run in any stadium.
I felt bad for the pitcher because he’d played a hell of a game. His feeling of devastation showed on his face as I rounded the bases. Johan and Wolf greeted me at home. They both looked relieved that we’d taken a commanding 4–1 lead.
Brock was up next. Their pitcher showed why he was their leader by striking Brock out.
When Pontiac came up for their at-bat, someone played the Rocky theme. I sure hoped we weren’t about to witness a storybook comeback for the win. I could imagine the pitcher calling out to his girlfriend like Rocky had when he finished the first fight. In the first Rocky, he’d lost.
Moose sent Phil out to pitch in the bottom of the ninth. Phil must have wanted there to be drama because he walked the first two batters. Then Pontiac’s pitcher came up to bat. Phil seemed to get his act together as he threw the first two pitches for strikes. On the next pitch, Phil tried to throw a third strike by him. When I heard the crack of the bat, I had already started backpedaling.
“Fence!” Don Crown called out in warning.
I reached out with my right hand to help give me some warning as I watched the ball rapidly come to me. When I touched the fence, I knew I’d run out of real estate. I timed my leap and used my right leg to push off the fence to get high enough to snag the ball, robbing their pitcher of his comeback moment.
I came down throwing to Brock, who’d come out to be my cutoff man. He whirled and cut down the runner who’d tagged up at second and was on his way to third. We worked it precisely as Coach Haskins had drilled us to.
That took the wind out of the crowd. Instead of the game being tied with no outs, we’d gotten a double play, and they were still down by three.
Moose had seen enough of Phil and called me in to finish the game. I smoked three straight fastballs past the poor kid I faced, and we won.
We had lined up to shake hands when Cassidy’s voice suddenly cut through the noise.
“David!”
She had her phone held up, and I saw flashing red. Someone had hit their panic button.
◊◊◊
Chapter 18 – Killed by Death Saturday April 8
Cassidy hurried towards the middle school parking lot while I ran to the fence and vaulted over it. Thankfully, the crowd parted like the Red Sea, so I didn’t have to slow down. Paul pulled up in the Ford Hennessey VelociRaptor SUV. Tami sat in the front seat, so Cassidy and I got into the back. As soon as the door closed, Paul took off.
“Who is it?” I asked.
“Tracy,” Paul said.
“Bill Rogers showed up at her lake house with two men. She snuck out the back and is hiding in the woods,” Tami said to both terrify and calm me.
At least he didn’t have her. A chill ran up my spine at the thought of what he would do to Tracy if he caught her.
“Who’s Bill Rogers?” Paul asked.
“When we were in middle school, he was the class bully and local drug dealer. He and David had a few run-ins before he was sent away to juvie. I thought he wouldn’t get out anytime soon,” Tami said.
“That’s what I understood as well,” I agreed as we rapidly left town.
“Did you call the police?” I asked.
“Fritz is on it,” Paul said.
We’d originally planned to go to Tracy’s lake house after the game, so Paul knew where he was going.
“Tell us more about this guy. What kind of threat is he?” Paul asked.
“What I’m about to tell you really isn’t my story to tell. Tracy has depression issues because of what he did to her,” I hesitated.
“They need to understand what they’re getting into, and we have time,” Tami said, making way too much sense.
“Okay, fine,” I said and paused. “Where should I start?”
“The beginning always seems to work,” Cassidy said.
“All right, then. When I was in middle school, a high schooler named ‘Tiny’ Dickson ran the school drug trade. Bill worked for him, selling at our school, and I think Bill imagined himself a gangbanger in training. He had a group of boys around him who had terrible attitudes and enjoyed picking on kids.
“Tracy was a high school freshman my last year of middle school. She dated and then dumped Mike Herndon’s older brother, Luke. She apparently dated him to gain status because Luke was the starting tailback on the football team. When Tracy earned the spot as head JV cheerleader, she decided she no longer needed him. Instead, she decided to go for a bad boy and started dating Tiny.
“From what I heard, Bill wanted Tracy in the worst way. The guy had to be crazy to think she would ever consider dating a middle schooler, but that didn’t stop Bill. It all came to a head at a get-together at a warehouse. At the party, Tiny finally made it known that he and Tracy were a couple.
“Tracy said that Bill came up to her and declared his interest. She told him there was no way that would ever happen. Even as a middle schooler, Bill was a sick bastard. Instead of taking the rejection in stride, he dosed Tracy’s and Tiny’s drinks.
“Everyone simply assumed Tracy and Tiny were stoned or drunk. Bill took Tiny’s car to take them home. Tracy had passed out in the back seat, and when she came to, she discovered that Bill had raped her. Enraged, she attacked him, which caused him to crash the car.
“To cover his tracks, Bill pulled Tiny over into the driver’s seat and then bailed. Tracy, scared and confused, left Tiny to take the blame for the wreck. Tiny ended up making a deal to enter the military instead of doing jail time.
“Tracy wasn’t aware that a deal was in the works and felt responsible for her part in leaving him to face the police alone. She could have helped exonerate Tiny, but for some reason, she decided to try to forget it ever happened. I mean, honestly, Tiny should have been in jail, but not for that.
“Anyway, Bill used her guilt to blackmail Tracy. I won’t go into detail, but I will say that he repeatedly raped her over the summer,” I explained.
“That’s awful,” Cassidy said.
“Tell them how you got in the middle of all this,” Tami prodded.
“Tracy and I hit it off. Unbeknownst to me, she used me to help free herself from Bill,” I said and stopped.