Tender Is The Night(24)

"Samantha always said that you were very good, Devin," Mrs. Parker said  with a sad smile. "She said you were the best agent she'd ever worked  with."

Kate saw Devin tense at the words, another reminder that he'd let down someone who'd really believed in him.

"I'm going to do my best," he said.

"Do you want something to drink? I could make us some coffee or tea,"  Val offered. "We could chat for a while. You'd like that, wouldn't you,  Mom?"

Mrs. Parker immediately shook her head. "I'm feeling tired. I think I'll  go back to bed. You all have your tea and talk. I just don't feel up to  it."

"Mom, you've been in bed all day," Val protested. "It would be good for you to stay up for a while."

"I'm sorry, Val." Mrs. Parker looked back at Devin. "Thank you for  fighting for Samantha. I know you're doing your best. Please let us know  if there's any news."

"I will," he promised.

"Do you see how bad she is?" Valerie asked, as her mother left the room.  "It gets worse every day. It's been a year and a half. Is she ever  going to get better? Is she ever going to wake up and look around and  see she still has one daughter left?"

"I hope so," Devin said. "I know it's rough on you, Val."

"It has been rough, and it won't get better until you find Sam's killer.  I feel like that's the only way Mom will be able to move on. She's just  in horrible limbo right now."

"I understand. I'm trying to give her that closure."

"I wish you'd never told her that you had doubts about the man who died  with Sam. Maybe Mom could have let go of this a long time ago. Maybe I  could have, too."

"I can't take back what happened."

"I know, but you can make it right. We've all been waiting too long."

"I don't think you have to tell Devin that," Kate couldn't help pointing  out, irritated that Val was making Devin out to be the bad guy.

Valerie shot her an annoyed look. "And I don't think I need your  opinion, Agent Callaway. When did you get on the case? Two days ago?  We've been living this nightmare for over a year."         

     



 

"We're going to take off," Devin said before she could respond. "I'll be in touch, Val."

"You better," Val said, not bothering to walk them to the door.

When they got in the car, Devin said, "I don't need you to defend me,  Kate. It wasn't your place to get in the middle of a conversation  between Val and me."

"You're mad at me because I spoke up for you?" she asked in surprise.  "She was acting like you've done nothing to solve this case."

"She's angry and sad."

"So are you. But if you need to yell at someone, then you can yell at me. I can handle it."

He ran a hand through his hair as he let out a breath. "I'm sorry. I  don't want to take it out on you. I'm just … pissed. I need to hit  something."

"I said you could yell at me, not hit me."

His tension eased at her words. "I would never hit you or any other woman. I have a better idea. Are you game?"

"For hitting something-always. Do I need to change into workout clothes?"

His gaze ran down her body. "You're fine."

As his eyes met hers again, she saw a flicker of desire, and she  couldn't help but respond. "Most men think I'm better than fine," she  said, giving in to a reckless impulse.

"I bet they do, but I haven't seen the whole show."

"And you're not going to see the whole show," she said, immediately regretting her teasing words. "Forget I said that."

"Too late."

"So where are we going?"

"You'll see."



* * *



She'd thought they were going to a gym, but twenty minutes later, Devin  pulled into a parking lot behind a large warehouse building south of  Market. It wasn't until they got out of the car that she saw the sign  for the batting cages.

"We're going to hit baseballs?" she asked, as they walked toward the front door.

"It's a good way to release stress." He opened the door and waved her inside.

She stepped into the large, cavernous building. It was late afternoon,  and the sound of bats hitting baseballs echoed through the air. Along  with a dozen batting cages, there was a huge arcade area with video  games, air hockey, and Ping-Pong, all of which were being enjoyed by  kids ranging from elementary school age on up to high school.

The air from a nearby snack bar was filled with the aroma of buttery, salty popcorn and cheeseburgers and onions on the grill.

Devin walked up to the counter, and within a few minutes, they had bats, helmets, and a cage to use.

"You want to go first?" he asked as they got into the cage.

"How fast is the ball going to come?"

He showed her the controller. "There are different pitches. You can  practice on fastballs, curves, sliders, breaking balls and change-ups.  I'd start with a fastball at the slowest speed."

"Which would be what?" she asked, putting the helmet on her head.

"Slowest they go is fifty. You up for it?"

"I'll give it a shot. Worst I can do is strike out, right?"

"It's a batting cage, so you won't actually strike out. Your money will just run out."

"Good point."

"Have you ever hit a baseball before?"

"A few."

"Do you want me to give you some tips?"

"My dad always used to tell me to keep my eye on the ball."

"That would be a good place to start. Ready?"

She stepped into the batter's box while Devin went over to put tokens  into the machine. She took a few warm-up swings, then said, "Ready."

The first ball came much faster than she expected. She swung and missed completely.

"Remember the part about keeping your eye on the ball," Devin said.

She shot him a dark look, seeing the humor in his eyes. "I remember."  But she'd barely finished speaking when the next baseball took her by  surprise. She jumped back.

"I told you; eye on the ball, not me," Devin said.

She focused on the next pitch, determined to show Devin she could handle  a baseball. All those years of shagging balls for her brothers and  taking swings with her dad came back to her. It had been a decade since  she'd swung a bat, but she knew what to do.

She connected with the next pitch in the sweet spot of the bat, and her  ball went flying over the pitching machine into the farthest part of the  net. She gave Devin a triumphant smile. "Not bad for a girl."

"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.