Colby (Season Two: The Ninth Inning #6) Read online

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  Colby

  Season 2 of

  The Ninth Inning Series

  Copyright © 2016 by Lindsay Paige and Mary Smith

  All rights reserved.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be re-produced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trade-marked status and trademark owners of various products, bands, and/or restaurants referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trade-marks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  About the Authors

  “SIT YOUR ASS down.” I watch my partner forcefully place the alleged murderer in the seat of the interrogation room. The kid already cracked me in the jaw, and Duke, my partner, chased him five blocks before getting the cuffs on him.

  “Lawyer,” the punk kid sings. “Lawyer. Lawyer. Lawyer.”

  “Enough!” I slam my hand on the table. “He’s coming, but in the meantime, stop throwing the chair at the glass.”

  “Lawyer,” the kid sneers at me.

  I narrow my glare at him before Duke and I walk out.

  “He’ll be going away for a long time.” Duke and I head back to our desks.

  “Yep,” I answer. Eyewitnesses. DNA. Hell, we practically have him shooting the victim on video.

  I’ve been a detective for less than a year. Before this, I was writing speeding tickets and breaking up bar fights. There were some exciting moments, but this is where I belong.

  I focus on the additional files on my desk and start at the top. It’s a never-ending pile, but I’m hoping to have a few more closed soon. I begin combing through the leads I have when I look up to see my younger sister coming through the door.

  “Ariella.” She spins showing off her little, flowy black dress.

  “Wow, Alizeh, you’re one hot mama,” I joke with her.

  “There’s my wife.” Duke stands and walks over to her, kissing her lips.

  Duke met my sister six years ago when she came over to cheer me on at a policeman-fireman softball tournament. Three months after that, they were officially dating, and they married a year later. Six months ago, they welcomed my nephew into the world, Little Duke.

  “What are you doing here?” he asks her, and I tsk him.

  “Wrong thing to ask.” I shake my head, as Alizeh’s eyes grow wide.

  “Duke, it’s our wedding anniversary,” she hisses at him.

  “I know,” he lies. “I’m only kidding.”

  Alizeh lifts one brow. “If you know, why ask?”

  Duke just chuckles and kisses her cheek. “Just making sure you remember.”

  She rolls her eyes at him, and I laugh. “Either way, I’m ready and we have reservations.”

  “Um...baby...” Duke trails off.

  “Oh no, you don’t.” Alizeh stomps her foot. “Lil D is at Mom and Dad’s for the night. I’ve been drinking smoothies all week to fit into this dress. We haven’t seen each other in days. You’re not doing this tonight.” Her sentences are short and hard. “I want us to celebrate, and I want to be with grown-ups.”

  “Baby, I just got some phone records in that I have to go over tonight.” Duke looks so sad and Alizeh might cry.

  I jump up from my seat. “I’ll take care of it, Duke.”

  They both stare at me for a second, and then Alizeh hugs me tightly. “Thank you, Ariella. If I don’t have sex soon, I’m going to die.”

  “Whoa!” I push her away. “TMI, sis.”

  Duke smiles sadly. “Thank you.” He hands me the file.

  “What are families and partners for?” I shoo them away. It’s not as if I have plans anyway.

  I look through Duke’s file and begin making marks of calls and connections between the victim and the suspect. Before I know it, another two hours have gone by and my eyes are burning. It’s almost ten at night as I gather up my things and head off to my parents’ house.

  There are no two greater people in the world. I smell apple pie as I walk in through the back door. My mom is sitting at the kitchen table with papers spread out around her. Dad has been trying for years to get her to quit, but at fifty-nine, she still runs circles around the law firm as if she’s a junior associate and not a partner and top lawyer in Tennessee.

  She’d always kept her blonde hair long until last year when she chopped it off into a fashionable pixie cut. Her big blue eyes connect with me when I shut the door. “Hey, Ariella, what are you doing here?” She stands up, comes over, and hugs me.

  “Thought I’d raid your fridge. I’ve not had time to go shopping.”

  “Have a seat. I’ll heat you something up.”

  “Mom, I can—” I stop when she gives me a look, and I turn heel and sit at the table.

  “Tell me about your day.” She rummages through the fridge and turns on the stove.

  “Nothing big. Arrested another young kid, but you know how that story goes,” I say sadly. Mom understands. She’s been trying for years to help delinquent children. She has saved a great number, but so many never get the chance.

  “I thought I heard you.” Dad comes into the kitchen. He’s huge. When I was little, I thought he was a giant. He’s six foot six and solid muscle. Even at sixty-five, he still works out every single day. His skin is the color of onyx, and his shiny bald head hasn’t seen hair since before I was born. “You look tired. Are you working too much?” His question is stern.

  “No, Dad. It’s just been a long day. Where’s Lil D?”

  Dad smiles at his grandson’s name. “Sleeping. We told Alizeh we’d keep him tonight. She and Duke need a night of silence.”

  I nod and watch Dad walk over to Mom and kiss her temple. Their relationship has been a tough one. Dad was a new detective when he met Mom when she was an intern in the District Attorney’s office.

  Dad says it was love at first sight for them both, but in the seventies in Tennessee, interracial relationships still carried a tabo
o. Mom’s parents kicked her out the moment they learned of the relationship, but Dad’s parents took her right in. To this day, I still don’t know Mom’s parents, but it’s no skin off my nose.

  It wasn’t easy for Alizeh and me, but our parents fought through the barriers and made a great life for us. We’re strong like our parents and they’ve been the greatest role models.

  Alizeh followed Mom’s footsteps, became a lawyer, then married a detective. I’m like Dad. Career first, then family. It’s not completely true. I desperately want someone. I’m a romantic at heart; I’m waiting for my Prince Charming to come sweep me off my feet.

  Mom puts a plate of chicken, corn, and mashed potatoes in front of me. I take the fork she hands me and dig in. Dad begins to bombard me with questions about my cases. You can retire a cop...well...no, you can’t. They’re a cop forever, and I know he misses the job. I give him a few details on some of my cases before I hug them both and head out the door.

  I drive to my house in East Memphis. I love my house, but what single woman needs a three bedroom, two-bath house?

  I hope someday I’ll have a family to fill it.

  When I make it inside, Buster, my Alaskan malamute, jumps up on me and tries his best to lick my face, but I turn away.

  “Okay, Buster, okay.” I calm him down and quickly take him out back to use the bathroom. I’m lucky Dad comes over and takes him out often, or lord knows the mess my house would be in.

  When I come back in, after Buster plays a bit, I set the security alarm again and make my way to the living room. Since I don’t have any friends away from the force, I keep many of my files on my coffee table. I do them while enjoying whatever new love story is on cable or Netflix. If I need a break, I pick up the latest, hottest romance novel.

  Tonight, I don’t do either. Instead, I pick up my personal laptop and turn it on. It’s my secret: I’ve told no one. In the past several months, I’ve registered on numerous dating sites, but one, called Memphis Locals, has led me to a friend of sorts.

  The familiar ding brings a smile to my face, and Buster sits next to me on the couch.

  BaseballGuy31: Hey, just wanted to say hi and hope your day went well.

  He sent it just a few moments ago, so I quickly respond.

  Sporty35: I just got home from work. It was okay. How was work for you?

  BaseballGuy31: Long, but good. My co-worker gave me this idiotic nickname, and it’s driving me crazy because now they all are calling me that.

  I laugh.

  Sporty35: What is it?

  BaseballGuy31: Oh, no way am I telling you. Nope. Not going to happen.

  I laugh louder and then deeply yawn.

  Sporty35: I’m off to bed. Talk to you soon.

  BaseballGuy31: Okay. Good night.

  I smile at the screen. I’m very well aware of the dangers of chatting with a stranger on the internet. I’m well aware of the dangers of online dating. However, I know how to keep myself safe, and I can’t explain why I feel connected to this guy.

  We began chatting about baseball. I’m a huge sports fan. Dad, Mom, and I are massive Memphis Angels fans. It’s the major league baseball team. I’ve been playing baseball and softball all my life, and I’m still on the Police Force baseball team.

  He told me he worked for the Angels and soon, we were chatting away. He doesn’t know I’m a cop nor do we know each other’s name. We’re taking it slow and getting to know each other. I like it, and it’s been fun having someone to talk to.

  I check my other online dating accounts, and of course, it’s nothing but creepy men and some messages that make my stomach turn.

  “Can’t I just find a nice guy?” I ask Buster who looks at me as if I should already know the answer to this question. “I know. I know,” I sigh and head to my bathroom to change.

  I stare at myself in the mirror. I’m thirty-six, but I don’t think I look it. My skin is a light caramel color. My eyes are a deep brown like Dad’s. My hair is wavy when I release it from the tight bun I keep it in for work, but not overly curly. It’s easily tamed. I’m used to the stares when I’m standing next to my parents. When I was younger, it never failed that someone would ask if I was adopted.

  I change and get ready for bed. When I crawl under the covers, and Buster takes position at the foot of the bed, I’m ready for sleep and then a new day to start.

  “HELLO?” I ANSWER my phone.

  “Hey, what are you doing today?” Jordan, one of my teammates, asks.

  “Stuff around the house. Why?”

  “I need a favor.”

  “Name it.” Jordan doesn’t often ask for something, so I’m curious at the very least.

  “I need you to have lunch with Heidi and me.”

  I can’t help it. I groan. “It’s our day off and you want me to spend it with you and your wife?”

  “C’mon, Colby. She thinks you hate her, and I want y’all to be friends.”

  “You want me to be friends with your wife?”

  “Well, not really. Just friendly enough that she stops thinking you hate her.”

  “I don’t hate her. Why don’t you tell her that?” And I don’t hate her. I’m just not so sure I like her. She put Jordan through hell before finally she finally stopped being so stubborn.

  “She doesn’t believe me. So, will you?” When I’m silent for too long, he speaks again. “Think of it this way. When you do finally land some online sugar baby, do you want your go-to couple to hang out with to be Hector and Zoey or me and Heidi?”

  “There are other guys on the team with girlfriends,” I point out.

  “But you don’t really hang out with them. So, I ask again. Do you want someone who you know will call you Sugar Daddy or me? You need to think about the future implications, Colby.”

  I laugh because he’s blowing this out of proportion. Nevertheless, he is a friend, and if he and his wife are together again, I can do this for him. First, I have a question. “Why is this so important that it has to be done today?”

  “Because I’m tired of her muttering under her breath how you hate her whenever I bring you up. It bothers her, so I need to fix it. I’ll let you know where she wants to go, and we’ll meet there in an hour.”

  We hang up, and a few minutes later, he texts me the restaurant.

  Lunch with Jordan and Heidi wasn’t so bad, and I think I’ve convinced her that I like her as much as one can like a teammate’s spouse. I spend the few hours after I get home cleaning and grocery shopping. Once that is done, I log onto the dating website I’ve stuck with to check if there are new messages.

  I still don’t know how I got talked into this. There are some crazy women out there, a prime example of how I earned the nickname Sugar Daddy. I made the mistake of telling Spencer how a girl messaged me, wanting me to be her sugar daddy, and he then told the team. Who does that? The girl, not Spencer.

  Things haven’t been working out so far. Every time I’m tempted to delete my account, I think about Sporty35. She seems to be the only sane one of the people I’ve met. We’ve been talking for a bit now. Messages here and there about our day and things like that. Lately, I’ve been thinking about the possibility of meeting her. I’m so out of my element though. What’s the etiquette for online dating? I don’t want to mess it up because of some stupid misunderstanding or something. I’m surprised I’ve lasted this long because I’m definitely an over-the-phone or in-person kind of guy.

  I’m thinking about it too much once dinner comes and goes, so I send a group message to Spencer and Roman, the culprits who got me into this to start with.

  Me: Big Blue tonight? Need advice.

  Spencer: I’ll be there, Sugar daddy!

  Roman: Count me in.

  It’s not often that I want to go to a bar, but I think that’s one of the few ways to get these guys out. I get it though. I was their age once, and a bar was the go-to place. I end up getting there before they do, which happens more often than not. The tables are full, but
there are a few empty spots at the bar and I take one of them. I’ll try to keep an eye out for a table opening up, but this will do for now.

  I order water because we’re too far into the season, too close to the playoffs, and I don’t particularly want any alcohol tonight anyway.

  “Excuse me, is this seat taken?”

  “Not at all,” I answer, turning at the sound of a woman’s voice. I don’t know who she is, but she’s beautiful. Probably not the kind of girl on a dating website, I think dryly.

  “Thanks,” she says, taking the seat.

  “No problem.” The bartender hasn’t noticed her yet, but the moment he glances this way, I wave him down, just in case he overlooks her.

  “Sorry, but are you Colby Wilson? From the Angels?”

  “Yeah, that’s me. You’re a fan?”

  “My family and I are big fans. You’re having a great season.”

  “Thanks. Hopefully, we’ll continue to do well and keep our fans happy.”

  “We’re very happy. Why are you hanging out by yourself? Big date?”

  I laugh. “No. A couple of teammates are meeting me here, and I tend to be early. Why are you hanging out by yourself if I may ask? Big date?”

  “No. Not even close. I had a long day and wanted a drink to unwind.”

  “A good kind of long day, I hope.”

  “Actually, no,” she says with a shake of her head. She sighs. “It was a bad day at work.”

  “Sorry to hear that. What do you do?”

  “I’m a detective with the Memphis Police Department.”

  “Really?” I can’t hide the surprise from my voice. I had no idea they were hiring such beautiful women. “That has to be a tough job.”

  “It has its rewards, but today isn’t one of them. Sorry. I shouldn’t be bothering you with all this.”

  “You’re not bothering me at all.” She really isn’t.

  “I bet you’re used to groupies or whatever they’re called.”

  I laugh. “My groupies end up being kids more often than not. The younger guys attract the girls usually.”