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“So… business is slow?” I speculate. “Desperate times, after a change in management?”
“More like Felix is buying a fucking pro team, to smooth Cato’s way into a ball career. He’s handing it to him, Minka. Because of some misplaced loyalty, or some shit.”
“Well…” I think for a beat. “It’s not loyalty, misplaced or otherwise. But maybe it’s Felix’s way of saying he loves Cato. It’s his way of saying he believes in him, and wants to give him a chance.” My heart swells the deeper I delve. “This is Felix’s way of showinglove, Archer. And his wishes for Cato to not follow in the family business.”
“By getting into bed with a crooked billionaire?” He settles back in his seat and shakes his head. “No thanks. Cato has the skill to do this on his own. He has the drive to be successful on his own talent.” He scoffs and looks out the window to the city. “And he has a four-year degree to earn first. Because eventually, he’ll become a thirty-something-year-old ball player with a bad shoulder, a janky ankle, and no plans for the future. And then,” he brings his focus back to me, “he’ll have nowhere to go but back into the family business. Felix is doing him no favors with this shit.”
These brothers, all of them, love so deeply, despite sixteen years spent apart. And yet, they’re all terrified of saying the words out loud. Felix will buy a team for Cato, to save him from busting his ass for a shot at going pro. And Archer will insist on education, to save him from a lifetime in a dangerous world.
It’s all love, when you break it down to basics. Just with different-colored hats, worn by different kinds of men.
“Have you considered that Felix simply doesn’t know how else to help?” I ask. “All of you were raised by the same asshole who never knew love. So you’re all working with the same flawed foundations. But here you are with a teen to raise, and no clue how to do it.”
“So what the hell do you suggest we do?” he barks. “What do you want from me?”
“I don’t know.” I push away from my desk and circle around to buy time. But I trail my fingertips across Archer’s shoulder as I go. Since touch brings him comfort. “I’m not volunteering to raise him. I’m only making an observation. Let Felix collude with the team. Let Cato play. Insist he goes to school, too. Best of every world, and,” I come to a stop on my side of the desk. “Less time to lie around our apartment and cause trouble. What did you find out while talking to the team?”
“Um…” He brings a hand up and scrubs it over his jaw. “We have twenty players on the team as of today. Whittaker can take fifteen into the season. He can take twelve into any game. Five on the court at a time.”
Snickering, I lower into my seat and lace my fingers together. “Noted. Thank you. Any of those twenty guilty of murder?”
He raises his hand in a kind of shrug that expresses exhaustion. “I don’t even know. The therapist suggested we take a closer look at the older team members, and especially those who are married. Mathew Frederick is the oldest, married, and has kids. But he’s in love with his wife almost as much as I’m in love with mine. If he cheated on her, I’ll eat my hat.”
“Unless…” I cross my legs beneath my desk and ponder. “If he was under the influence and did something he regrets, and now that he’s sober and realizes his mistake, I could see a man desperate enough to make that kinda secret go away.”
“Maybe. But I still don’t see Frederick for it. We ran through each player, no matter their age or marital status. Fabian Sandhurst has a girlfriend, but he also has an alibi for the night of Anna’s murder. Roswell is single, and was single last year when Anna met the team. He also has an alibi. Even if he didn’t, his lack of girlfriend counts as a lack of motive. Bowie, Armstrong, and Dominick openly admit to being… intimate with the vic at the end of season party last year. But none of them were in serious relationships at the time, nor are they now. So hiding that night doesn’t seem to be high on their list of priorities.”
“Okay…” I think on that and pass over the fact Anna was with three men the same night. At the same time or separately, I don’t know, but I don’t really care to find out. So long as it was consensual, that’s her business alone. “Who else?”
“Jonty Selene wasn’t even on the team this time last year. He claims to have never met the vic, and he has an alibi for the night of the murder. Vance Perry is married, though he’s only twenty-five and doesn’t quite meet the profile the therapist is tossing at us. He was at home alone on the night of the murder. The wife was away with her sister, apparently, which leaves him shit out of luck with the alibi. Though, he claims he was playing computer games all night and chatting with his online buddies. He volunteered his devices, so I should be able to track that down through the tech department when they get a second.”
“Volunteering that evidence seems pretty eager,” I ponder. “So either he’s keen to prove his innocence…”
“Or he’s keen tolookinnocent,” Archer finishes. “Yeah. Fletch and I will take a closer look at him tomorrow. We’ll have a look into Whittaker too, since he’spart of the team.”
“Also married?”
“Not only is he married,” he chuckles, “but we’re on wife number four. And get this,” his eyes light up with playfulness. With taunting and boyish glee. “He has an eighteen-year-old stepdaughter. Her name is Jenna Anderson, and she works for sweet old daddy.”
“Ohhhhhkay…?” Curiosity settles deep in my stomach. “I don’t get the significance.”
“Cato thinks she’s the hottest piece of ass this side of the country.” His chest bounces with laughter. “Now she’s the kid of the man who may someday own him. So he’s feeling a little conflicted on the whole situation.”
“Is that self-control I hear?” I shake my head and glance toward my empty coffee mug in yearning. “He won’t chase her now?”
“Oh I’m pretty sure he will,” Archer grumbles. “But now he risks a bullet in the back of his head while he’s riding her to completion. You don’t fuck with a mobster’s daughter and expect to walk away intact.”
“Great.” I drop my head back and look up at the ceiling. “I look forward to running that autopsy. Might I suggest you keep him away from her? Have you tried calling the mayor today?”
He scoffs, but grins when I bring my head down and meet his eyes. “Only a thousand times. He could get me on harassment at this point—he has the law degree and the brains to pull it off. But he won’t speak to us. It’s pissing me off.” He pauses for a beat before adding, “I spoke to twenty pro basketball players today, Minka. But none of them look as guilty as the mayor.”
“He didn’t hurt her.”
“Wanting something to be true isn’t the same as being innocent,” he counters. “Just because he says he didn’t do it doesn’t make it so.”
Aubree opens the door on my left, surprising Archer and I both and pulling our attention across.
“I’m sorry, Chief. I’m putting Anna away for the night. I’ve left the, uh…” She swallows and spares a fast glance for Archer, “organ, where you requested it for testing.”
