drink; inside everything was clean and well maintained. It was one of the nicest stadiums Dean had been in, though he’d admit that he hadn’t been in many over the years.
Dean didn’t know whether the team was already on-site. He wasn’t expecting trouble, but any time he went into an unknown situation he was cautious. It had saved his life, and the lives of his fellow soldiers, during his years in the Marines, and it had helped avoid danger when he was in the field for the FBI.
Dean showed his badge and told the security guard they wouldn’t be long. “When do ticket holders usually start to arrive?” Dean asked.
“We don’t open up the gates to the public until ninety minutes before game time. But there’s a high school singing the national anthem, and they’re already here getting ready. The players start arriving two hours before. Is something wrong? Should I notify management?”
“Just routine.” Dean was getting concerned. He didn’t like this arrangement, but being in the open stadium minimized the risk of being surprised. Still, there were civilians around, and that always increased the chances that something could go wrong.
They walked to the wide mezzanine level that curved around the back of the stadium, offering shade from the heat and a view of the field, plus access to all seating levels, restrooms, and food. A groundskeeper was walking the field and someone else was working near the scoreboard. But aside from employees in the corridor, the interior of the stadium was empty. Dean couldn’t see if there was anyone in the shadows of the home team dugout. He hated sending Sonia in there alone.
“He’ll know you brought someone,” Dean said. “You’re not so reckless as to walk into this alone. I’ll stand back, let you do the talking.”
“You would be a threat to him,” Sonia said. “He won’t come. I need him to look at this picture.”
“Do you think he knows that’s your father?”
“It’s not something I like to discuss, even though everyone and their brother in this business seems to know.”
That bothered her, Dean realized. The lack of privacy. Most people could dismiss a bad childhood, or simply not discuss it with their peers, but colleagues usually knew only what you told them. For Sonia, her childhood case had been high profile and well known among law enforcement. She didn’t shy away from her past, but she didn’t wear it on her sleeve, either.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Dean said.
Sonia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them they were troubled. “Charlie might know what name he’s using, but if he knows this man I doubt he knows its my father. Since no one could find him twenty years ago, it makes sense that he would be using a different identity. But Xavier Jones knew him, and Thomas Daniels-both men who worked out of northern California. I’m going to do this right. One step at a time. First, the case in hand. Then my father.”
Dean lightly rubbed Sonia’s arm. He greatly admired her inner strength. “I’ll help you any way I can.”
She gave him a half-smile. “That means a lot to me, Dean.”
He reiterated, “Whatever happens here, whatever you learn, wherever you find your investigation headed, I’ll be with you every step.”
Her eyes glistened, then she blinked the emotions away. She opened her mouth to say something, then looked away, unsure.
He put his fingers on her cheek and turned her to face him. “You have my word.” He kissed her softly, but felt surprising power between them in the light touch. It was a jolt of knowledge, something far more than he expected. “Be careful.”
She whispered, “I know you have my back.”
Dean felt the sincerity and weight of the trust she’d just placed in him. He skimmed his hand over her cheek, realizing this hadn’t been easy for her.
“I’ll watch you go down, then I’ll find a place to keep an eye on the dugout. Text me if you get in trouble.”
She cocked her head. “If I’m in trouble, I’m not going to take time to text you.”
He pulled her phone out of her belt and typed his phone number into a blank message, then locked the phone. “Just press unlock and send. You can probably do it in your sleep.”
“Thanks.” She put the phone back in its pouch, then jogged down the stairs and leaped over the small fence that led to the field.
Dean wished he hadn’t reacted so poorly when Sonia raised her hackles earlier. She’d simply reacted from her gut. She tried to backtrack, but Dean’s ego had been bruised. He’d thought after last night she would know he was not only on her side, but capable of assisting her on all levels of this investigation. He should have cut her some slack from the beginning, knowing trust didn’t come easy to her. But when she had compared him to that bastard Charlie Cammarata, Dean saw red. He didn’t lose his temper often, but for a moment he was blinded when he should have understood it wasn’t personal and, in fact, she’d been sharing something important with him. That she’d been betrayed and disappointed and was looking to him to prove that she could believe in him, trust him, love him.
She wanted to believe, but life had taught her differently. She wanted to trust, but people had proven they couldn’t be trusted.
Dean would die before he disappointed her again. He never wanted to see the doubt in her eyes, the disbelief.
Their relationship may be just beginning, but they shared something valuable. Dean felt it deep down where he rarely allowed himself to look because it had always been empty. With Sonia around, he no longer felt the emptiness.
When Sonia slipped into the dugout, Dean maneuvered around the stadium and reached the stairs that led to a private observation deck on the first-base line. While it afforded a good view of the dugout, it was a little farther than he would have liked.
Movement to his right had him leaning against the back wall of the stadium. A group of teens dressed in identical attire descended noisily from the observation deck toward the field. He pulled the teacher aside and identified himself. “Can I ask that you hold off a moment?”
“Is there something wrong?” the young woman, who didn’t look much older than her students, said.
“No, but my partner is checking into something. That young man over there”-he gestured toward one of the larger students-“can I borrow his T-shirt?” The shirt had the name of their school in white on blue.
“Um, would it help if I just gave you one of the extras?”
“It would help a lot. Thank you.”
“When can we go down?”
“I’ll let you know. Not more than thirty minutes.”
He took the shirt from the teacher and stretched it out. It was an extra large, but still clung tightly across his shoulders. Fortunately, it was square cut and concealed his sidearm nicely.
“If you’re going to use a disguise, I don’t know if that will help much.” She handed him her clipboard, then the River Cats cap from her head. “You can borrow these.”
“Thanks, ma’am.”
As soon as Sonia reached the dugout, she heard noise at the top of the bleachers where there was a semi- enclosed booth high up from the first-base line. A large group of teenagers dressed in blue-and-white T-shirts congregated, but they stayed in the bleachers. Good, she didn’t want to have any more civilians to worry about.
She looked over the dugout-fairly secure. No doors or access point except through the front. The area was quite large-she’d never been in a dugout before. There was a ramp and stairs that led to it, and it was set back a bit from the field. Private. Surprisingly quiet. The dugout was in the shade, the sun behind the stadium. Even now, in the heat of a Sacramento June, the temperature was comfortable.
There was no reason for Charlie to hurt her, but she liked knowing her escape options. She could run out anywhere along the dugout as long as she leaped over the railing, or slid under it. Good. And it would be fairly easy to get to the bleachers or across the field. Not that she needed to escape. As she walked the dugout, her senses sharpened and she twitched. A million needles pricked her skin and she began to sweat. She took a deep breath,
