Tender Is The Night (16 page)

"Not bad," he agreed with a nod. "Let's see if you can make it two in a row."

She waited for the next pitch and hit a line drive. Now that she was back in her rhythm, muscle memory kicked in. She hit the next six balls and then her time was up.

She felt excited and happy and far more relaxed than she'd been when they arrived. "That was great," she said, giving Devin a grin.

He smiled back at her. "You're a natural. You were hustling me a little, weren't you?"

"I truly haven't swung a bat in years, but I did play softball when I was younger."

"I should have figured."

"Three older brothers and a dad who loved the game," she reminded him. "Your turn."

She took off her helmet as Devin stepped into the box. "What speed are you going for?"

"Fastest they've got."

"You do like to push yourself, don't you?"

"If you can't beat the best, what's the point?"

She shrugged and put a token into the machine.

Devin didn't need a few warm-up swings. He was on point with the first pitch, and one ball after another soared high and away. Watching Devin's body in motion made her very aware of his masculinity. He was athletic and powerful, determined and focused, and her heart beat a little faster the longer she watched him.

It was fun to see him away from the job, testing himself in sport instead of work, letting out his inner baseball player, the kid who'd dreamed of the big leagues. He probably would have made it if he'd really wanted it. He had obvious talent, but more than that, he had tremendous desire and will when he wanted something.

She couldn't help wondering if he'd ever wanted a woman with that same level of passion and will. It didn't seem like it. He hadn't mentioned anyone that he'd been serious about and definitely no long-term relationships, but that probably had more to do with the wall he'd built around his heart than anything else.

If someone could tear down that wall, unleash all that passion…that could be something else. Her whole body tingled with the thought of that
someone
being her.

Which was crazy, she reminded herself.

They were partners, coworkers. They couldn’t be more.
Could they?

That question lingered for only a minute before a dozen answers—all negative—filled her head. And all those answers had to do with what she wanted, and that was a career. This wasn't the right time for her to meet someone, to fall in love, to want to commit.

But who said she had to commit to anything? Maybe Devin was the perfect person to enjoy some non-committed fun.

Only problem was she had a hard time divorcing her heart from her body. It was probably her best-kept secret. Most people thought she had no problem doing that, but she did. Which was why she didn't get involved with people who could in any possible way touch her heart.

When Devin's pitches ran out, he set down the bat and gave her a questioning look. "Well?"

"Not bad."

"That's all you've got? Most people would say I'm better than not bad." He repeated her earlier teasing words with a slight variation.

"Well, I haven't seen the whole show."

He laughed. "Unlike you, I'm not against that happening, Kate."

"I don't mix business with pleasure. And even if I did, you and I would not be a good match."

"Why is that?"

She had to think for a moment, because two seconds ago she'd been pondering how magnificent they could be together. "Let's see. You're moody, intense, and cynical, and I'm a happy person who likes to have a positive outlook on life."

"There is that," he said with a nod. "But sometimes opposites attract. And we do have some things in common."

"Like what?"

"Passion. Determination. Fearlessness."

Her heart skipped a beat—not just at the word
passion
but at the look in his eyes.

She cleared her throat. "Let's try some curve balls."

"I thought I just threw you one."

She saw the teasing light in his eyes and liked seeing this lighter side of Devin. "Let's see how you do when the ball surprises you." She put another token in the machine and urged him back to the plate.

Devin handled the curve balls as well as he'd done the fastballs, and she got more turned-on by every swing, especially when his T-shirt crept up, revealing his muscled abs.

"Your turn," Devin said.

As much as she was happy not to have to look at him anymore, she wasn't sure she wanted his gaze on her now. "Let's switch it up. How are you at Ping-Pong?"

"As good as I am at baseball."

"Of course you are. Are there any sports you're not good at?"

"I can't think of any."

"Your humility is amazing."

"You asked. I answered." He took off his helmet. "But I can let my play speak for itself."

"We'll see."

Over the next hour, Devin unfortunately backed up all of his cockiness with a winning streak at the Ping-Pong table and two out of three wins at air-hockey. But when they got to skee ball, Kate found her strength. She beat Devin three games in a row making him mutter to himself.

"Looks like I win," she told him.

"One more game."

"We've already played three."

"I can do better."

That was Devin, she was beginning to realize. He didn't accept anything that felt like failure within himself. He went back after the victory time and time again.

She shook her head. "You remind me of someone."

"Who?"

"Did you ever see that movie
Tin Cup
?"

"It was about golf, wasn't it?"

"Yes. The protagonist can't stand the fact that he didn't put the ball in the hole in one stroke, and he refuses to leave the course until he does it, even though he ends up losing the tournament because he can't move past that one hole."

He stared back at her. "And I'm that guy?"

"You do need to win."

"I like to win; I don't have to win."

"Really? Don't you?"

"This isn't about skee ball or Ping-Pong, is it? You think I'm wrong about Baines, but I'm not. It's not about winning. It's about being right. And I'm right."

"In this case, that's kind of the same as winning."

"I thought you were on my side."

She didn't like the disappointment in his eyes. It surprised her a little that he cared so much what she thought. "I am on your side, Devin."

He walked across the cage and looked into her eyes. "I hope so. Because I believe that Sam's killer is still out there. Guilt keeps me up at night, anger makes my heart hurt, but it's what I know in my gut that keeps me looking for the truth. I was trained to be skeptical, to look beyond the obvious, to read between the lines and see past the shadows. I know what I have to do. Whether you want to do it with me is up to you. You don't have to believe. You can still walk away."

There was nothing but pure honesty in his eyes, and she was persuaded not just by his words but also by his will.

A lot of people talked the talk, but she'd never met anyone who was really willing to walk the walk, to put everything he or she believed in on the line for their beliefs. To look all the naysayers in the eye and say you're wrong took a lot of strength. Devin was one of a kind, and she couldn't help but admire him.

"Kate? What's it going to be?" Devin questioned.

"I'm not walking away. I believe in your instincts. And to put it in baseball terms, I respect your willingness to leave everything on the field."

A small smile played across his lips. "I don't know any other way to play. But this isn't a game, and I know that, Kate. You don't have to worry that I don't understand what's at stake."

"Good, because if we do get close to discovering Sam's real killer, that could put us in danger, and I'd like to know that the man at my side is keeping his eye on that ball, too."

"You've got it. I think we should seal the deal with a hot dog. What do you say?"

She grinned. "A hot dog sounds perfect. Actually, I'm going to get mine with chili and onions."

He smiled back at her. "If you think onions are going to scare me away…"

"Scare you away?" she echoed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do."

"Let's just eat."

"I thought you were fearless."

"When it's warranted, I am. This isn't that time."

Twelve

Kate was right, Devin thought, as they made their way to the snack bar. This wasn't the time to be messing around, but he had enjoyed seeing the guilty sparkle in her eyes when he'd brought up the heat between them.

Too bad they were both smart enough not to act on it.

After they collected their hot dogs and french fries, they sat down at a table near the arcade.

"So tell me about your baseball career," Kate said as she wiped some chili off her lips.

"It wasn't a career. I played on competitive teams growing up, in high school and two years of college. I got some draft offers after my sophomore year, but they weren't offering much money, so I said no. Then I hurt my shoulder and ended up sitting out my junior year. The time off brought some clarity. I decided to hang up my cleats and go after a real career."

Having seen his intensity, she was a little surprised he'd given up on that dream, but it was nice to know that Devin could take a step back and look at a situation with a more critical eye. He didn't always let emotion influence his judgment.

"It worked out for the best," Devin added.

"No regrets?"

"Not about baseball. I'll always love the game, but it wasn't going to be my career." He paused. "Tell me about your baseball career. You didn't get that swing in two seconds tonight."

"I played softball until I was twelve, but it was never my thing. It was way too slow. Every game seemed to take forever. I dabbled a little in soccer and volleyball, and they had more action, but while I liked being on a team, I discovered that I liked controlling the outcome even more. That's why running appealed to me so much; it was just me against the trail. I was in charge of my own fate. In team sports, you're only as good as your weakest link. In running, I didn't have to rely on anyone else to win. I'm sure you can relate to that."

"I can relate, but I have to admit that having been on my own the last year and a half, I've missed having a partner, someone to bounce ideas off of."

"Well, I'm here now. So what are we going to do next? You said the second fire usually occurs within four to seven days after the first fire. It's Friday, and the fire was Monday. We're in the target zone. Which reminds me, I do want to go by Ashbury Studios and warn my cousin and his wife. They've worked really hard to build that studio up."

"I thought you didn't want to see your family."

"Well, I doubt Sean and Jessica will go running to my mother, but even if they did, this is more important."

"That's fine, but I don't think the studio is the next target. My money is on the Bayside Neighborhood Club. It's a teen center in an old house. The manager of the club lives on the third floor of the house, but other than her, the house is empty after ten o'clock at night." He paused. "I might drive by some of the targets later tonight, between the hours of midnight and three, see if anyone is around any of the sites."

"That seems a little random."

"It's better than nothing. I'll focus in on the three sites without alarm systems." He pulled out his phone as he got a text. "The boss is checking up on you," he said.

"What do you mean? I talked to Agent Roman earlier today."

"He just wants to know if you're able to help me."

"I hope you're going to tell him that I'm doing nothing but helping you," she said pointedly. "I even tried to teach you how to win at skee ball."

"I don't recall any teaching, only boasting."

"Because I finally found something I could beat you at."

He sent a text back to Roman, then said, "Are you ready to get out of here?"

"Hold on. What did you tell my boss?"

"That he couldn't have sent me anyone greener."

Disappointment ran through her. "Seriously? We're back to that?"

He opened his phone and showed her the text. "No, I said you've been more helpful than anyone else at the Bureau."

She skimmed the text. "Okay, good. But since the Bureau set the bar for helping you really low, I'm not sure that's much of a compliment."

"Just take it."

"Fine, I'll take it. Let's stop at Ashbury Studios on the way back to your place."

"Whatever you want."

"If you still need to burn off some energy, we could probably crash Jessica's ballroom dance class," she suggested. "I think she teaches it around this time on Friday nights."

"I don't think so. I have no ability to dance."

"I don't believe you. You're very light on your feet."

"Only when I'm hitting baseballs."

"It could be fun. I would even let you lead."

"As tempting as that offer is, I still say no."

"We'll see."

"Hey, you're not going to change my mind," he added, as he followed her out of the batting cages.

She gave him a mischievous smile. "I bet I could if I really tried."

"Then don't try," he said a little desperately.

She liked that she could rattle him, too. "Like I said, we'll see."

* * *

Kate hadn't been at Ashbury Studios since she'd joined the FBI. The entire first floor of the converted warehouse had been turned into small to medium-sized music and recording rooms, with one main studio for more important artists and bigger bands. Her cousin Sean, who was an excellent musician and singer, and apparently also a good businessman, had opened the studio with a partner a few years earlier.

The upper floor offered a variety of dance studios for fitness, ballet, yoga, hip-hop, salsa and ballroom dancing, all overseen by Sean's wife Jessica.

After entering through the side door, they headed down a hall lined with photographs. Kate paused in front of one. "This is Sean's band," she told Devin. "He's been performing since he was fifteen. He's really good. I hope he's here tonight. I'd love for you to meet him. He and Jessica have an interesting love story."