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“Sorry. But Jonas was there, and so was Sibba, so…”
He held up a hand. “Yes. Okay. Yes, we did. At least, the material that went missing…um…”
“I don’t need to know anything,” Iris said, picking up her room key. “I don’t want you to have to shoot me.”
Ned laughed, but maybe she wasn’t kidding as she left the room and headed down the hall.
Zach was in the lift when it opened, wearing a pair of jeans and a sweater. “Hey!”
“Hey,” she said, and gave him a hug.
“How are the ribs?”
“Better. Still wearing a brace.”
“Good. I’d like to see you on the injured reserve though.”
“Not if we want to officiate the Lauchtenland game.”
He pointed at her.
They walked out into the lobby of the Hotel Amsterdam, with its sleek black-and-white tile flooring, marble columns, and expansive windows that overlooked the square. Yannick stood from a nearby grouping of tables and motioned her and Zach over. Roque, Milos, Arne, and Jakub all stood and greeted her.
Water, a couple beers, a glass of wine, and a charcuterie tray with hard cheeses, dried fruit, and meat sat in the center of the table.
“I like this version of a pregame meeting,” Iris said.
“The field is used by the Ajax FC, so they had to turn over the pitch for the game,” said Yannick. “Since they haven’t had a professional American football team since 2007, they expect a big turnout for tomorrow’s game.”
“I hate not walking the field before the game,” Iris said as she sat down. A waitress came over, and she ordered water and picked up a piece of cheese.
“We can get in early,” Yannick said, putting down his beer. “But we’re making some adjustments in the officiating.” He turned to Iris. “I’m moving Zach to ump position, Iris.”
She stilled. Looked at Zach. He looked away. “You knew this?”
“It’s my call, Iris. And maybe just for this game, until your ribs heal. But I never want to see you get hit like that again, and umpire is the most dangerous position on the field.”
“I can handle it.”
Yannick leaned back, folded his arms. “Would you rather be benched?”
She held up her hand. “Okay, yes. Fine. Where am I?”
“Back judge.”
“Oh. Right.” But maybe there, she could keep an eye on Hudson. The story of his injury—and her mistake—hadn’t walked out of her brain.
Yannick pulled out his phone and set it on the table, bringing up a picture of the field. He walked them through the field, the sun positions, then went through the starting lineup of the Amsterdam Admirals. He’d sent her film a couple days ago, so she’d watched most of it already, but he pointed out a couple cornerbacks and a safety who were rookies.
“The Admirals have a lot at stake, so they’re liable to play a little off the hook,” he said. “And a few of these players have come over from rugby.”
“Oy,” said Arne. “Then there’ll be blood on the field.”
“Let’s keep our players safe,” said Yannick. “And call a clean game.”
They’d finished off their food and beverages, and Iris got up to leave with the others, but Yannick called her back. Pulled out a chair.
“Am I in trouble?”
