Wildcard: Volume Three

“Why didn’t you call the police?”

I have no way of answering that. “Because I was scared,” I wail. “Am I a suspect?”

“Ms. Calera, at the moment, you are a person of interest who we hope will be cooperative in our investigations.”

The phone falls from my hands and crashes to the floor beside me. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. All I can do is cry because I know my life is over.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Ryder

My practice session with Cally is almost over when I see Jim walking over to us.

“Good hitting today. Go get changed,” I say.

She runs off the court and disappears into the change rooms.

“How’s things?” Jim asks, putting his hand out. I smile, shaking it.

“Pretty good. I think the pressure is getting to her, but learning to cope with that will come with experience.” I grin. “I think she’s as shocked as everyone else that she won yesterday. I’m not used to seeing her so humble.”

“Neither am I,” he chuckles. “So, on a serious note, I’ve literally just gotten off the phone with a friend in the division that is handling the case you asked me to look into.”

“And?” I stiffen.

“And they’ve just arrested two bikers in connection to it. They’ve confessed to it, blaming a drug deal gone wrong. Apparently this Tony guy learned the hard way that you don’t rip off hardened criminals. Unless these one of these guys was the ‘friend’ you were talking about, I’d say they’re in the clear.”

Thank fucking Christ.

“Thank you, Jim,” I sigh. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that.”

“Anytime. I’m glad I could help.” Jim says. “So, have you made a decision about whether you want to coach my daughter?”

“It’s still on the table?” I ask, shocked. I thought for sure my chance had gone.

Jim chuckles. “Of course it is. I’ve already told you, I think Cally can learn a lot from you. You’ve done so much for her in this short time, I’m looking forward to seeing what the future brings.” He slaps me on the back.

“In that case,” I say with a grin, “you have yourself a new coach.”

***

My mood is so high right now that not even the paparazzi camped outside my building can dampen it. I’m keen to get upstairs and tell Scar my news.

I walk inside and find her holed up on the floor of the bathroom. She’s hysterical, but I can’t make sense of what she’s trying to tell me. I hear the word police and coma, and it hits me that she knows about Tony.

“Scar,” I say, crouching down beside her. I cup her face in my hands. “Listen to me. You need to calm down.”

“Jake,” she sobs. “I can’t go to jail, Ryder.”

“Listen to me,” I say, tilting her chin so our eyes meet. “You’re not going to jail. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But the police—”

“Got it wrong,” I finished for her. “Tony is a bad guy—you know that. There were lots of people after him. It was a botched drug deal, Scar, not you. He ripped off some pretty serious crims.”

“How do you know this?” she asks, her wide eyes glued to mine.

“Cally’s father is an attorney,” I explain. “I had him look into it for me.”