Thinking back to the previous day, Sierra battled a rush of emotion. The answer to Camille’s question was easy enough, she supposed, even if it was painful.
“Lucky for you,” she said, “I’m too nice.”
Chapter 48
Evan made sure he got home late on the Sunday they returned from their road trip. He was quiet when he walked past Sierra’s apartment and entered his, not wanting to encourage her to try and stop by. The dogs didn’t mind when he greeted them without words. He tried to convince himself that there wasn’t really a hot pain in his chest when he saw the blank wall in the family room that had once held their pictures. He’d made the right decision, asking the dogsitter to bring the pictures back to Sierra.
He refused to think about the heartbreak he’d surely caused her by doing so.
The next morning, he got up before dawn and headed out. He’d asked the dogsitter to come out daily until the end of the postseason. He planned on being out of his apartment as much as possible over that time span. He didn’t want to see Sierra again if he could avoid it.
Their last conversation had replayed itself over and over again in his head over the past week. He regretted some of the things he’d said to her. He’d aimed for the jugular and knew he’d hit it. That knowledge had led to many restless nights during the road trip. But he knew this was for the best. He’d stay away from her and they’d both be happier in the end.
It was taking some time to convince his heart of that, though.
Since he didn’t have to be to the stadium until one, he went out to breakfast and then rode his bike around the city. It had been years since he’d last driven the surface streets around downtown. Things had changed since he was a kid, he realized. Although some places were the same as they’d been when he was in high school, others had been updated or torn down to make way for progress.
He supposed Sierra would tell him that it was like an analogy for his life. Then he reminded himself that he wasn’t thinking about her.
His drive didn’t keep him out as long as he’d hoped, so he was the first to arrive in the clubhouse. Lost in thought, he almost ran into Caroline Sanderson just outside the locker room.
“Sorry,” he said, reaching out to steady her.
“It’s all right,” she replied, giving him a companionable pat on the shoulder. “How have you been, Evan?”
“Fine,” he responded automatically, though that was anything but the truth.
“Is that right?” Her gaze moved thoughtfully over his face. “I’m aware of the fact that you only got three hits on the recent road trip. That’s your biggest slump of the year.”
Suppressing a wince, he said, “Yes, ma’am.”
“I suppose it goes without saying that we’re concerned about this, especially with the playoffs right around the corner.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he repeated. “I feel the same way. That’s why I’m here so early. I wanted to get in some extra BP.”
She continued studying him. “I see. Well, we’ll hope that’s all it takes. Good luck in the game tonight.”
“Thanks.”
When she walked away, he felt like he’d been given an enormous reprieve. He guessed Sierra hadn’t spread the word about their breakup.
Of course she didn’t, his brain snarked. She’s too nice.
And he was an asshole of epic proportions.
Ignoring his conscience, he continued into the locker room. He headed to his space, figuring he might as well get ready for practice since he was there. As he got closer to his dressing area, he slowed down. There was something pinned to the wall beside his uniform.
He got closer to see exactly what it was. A chill ran down his spine.
The Barbie doll had shoulder-length, curly blonde hair and green eyes. Some of the curls had been colored purple. She was dressed in a tank top and skirt, nothing remarkable. But the small camera around the doll’s neck told him who the doll represented.
It was smattered with blood.
Not the real stuff, he hoped. He looked around. There was no one else in the room.
Pulling out his phone, he took a few pictures of the gory effigy. He’d started documenting every threat after the first couple, just in case he finally got the chance to do something about them. He’d saved them all, too. He supposed if he got the police involved, there might be fingerprints or DNA or some kind of evidence, but none of the threats had seemed serious enough to worry about contacting them.
This one was different, though. This one was a threat against Sierra.
Once again, he thought of Jensen. The pressure was on the veteran third baseman. Several lawsuits were pending, all of them brought forth by women claiming various forms of sexual misconduct. Because of the way the industry worked, he was still allowed in the clubhouse, though. The union reps had made sure of that. So he had access to place the doll.
He’d have every reason to want to harm Sierra, Evan thought. It was his attack against her combined with Caroline’s resulting investigation that caused his past transgressions to come to light. If Jensen thought that Evan was still seeing Sierra, he might think that a threat against her would make more of an impact than his other threats. It made sense that the threats would grow more desperate as the season came to an end and the free agency deadline approached.
Evan wondered if the guy would actually hurt Sierra. The idea of it had him wiping his palms on his jeans. That was exactly the bastard’s goal, too, he knew. He wanted to get into Evan’s head and screw with his game.
Well, Jensen was shit out of luck. Sierra had already cornered the market on that, whether or not she’d intended it.
He dressed out in his practice gear, not touching the doll. Other players made their way into the clubhouse, all of them issuing some form of greeting. No one seemed to notice the doll. All Evan could focus on was the small pool of fake blood on the ground near his cleats. It had dripped down from the doll’s legs.
“What the hell is that?” Cole asked as he stepped up to his dressing area.
“Apparently, I have a secret admirer,” Evan said.
Several other players turned and looked at the object that held their attention. Javier Rios strode up and looked from the doll to the spattered ground, then over at Evan.
“That is seriously messed up, man.”
“No shit.”
Burke Richards stopped beside Javy. His eyebrows rose up to his hairline. “That’s a little, uh, violent.”
“Is that supposed to be Sierra?” Cole asked, his brow furrowed.
“Yeah,” Evan said.
“Jesus, Dorsey,” Larry said as he approached. “I’ve heard of bitter breakups, but stabbing a doll in your ex’s likeness seems a little extreme to me.”
“Who said she was my ex?” Evan asked.
Larry snorted. “Well, if she isn’t an ex, you’ve got even bigger problems than I thought.”
“Evan didn’t do this, Uhre,” Cole said. “So who did?”
Everyone lifted their hands and backed away in a show of innocence. A few of them cast curious glances over their shoulders as they went back to changing for practice. Cole hadn’t stopped frowning since seeing the doll.
“Any idea who did this?” he asked as he pulled on his dry-fit shirt.
“Jensen,” Evan said in a low voice. “Has to be.”
“Damn.” Cole shook his head. “The guy is seriously disturbed. Have you contacted security yet?”
“No.”
“Why the hell not? If someone stuck a red-haired, blue-eyed doll covered in blood in my space, I’d call the goddamn FBI.”
Frowning, Evan looked again at the doll. He glanced back at Jensen’s dressing area, which remained empty.
“He’s in court all day today,” Javy called out, seeing the direction of his gaze. “Not expected to make it to the game.”
That meant he was out there where he could conceivably hurt Sierra, Evan realized. It also begged the question of how he could have gotten the
doll into Evan’s dressing area.
But if Jensen didn’t do it, who did?
Uneasy, Evan nodded. “All right. Shit. I’ll get security to look into it.”
After he got in touch with the right person, he left it in their hands. He considered calling Sierra to warn her before he took the field, but changed his mind. He didn’t want to worry her.
And he definitely didn’t want to give her hope.
Chapter 49
It hadn’t been hard for Sierra to bury herself in work during Evan’s road trip. She’d tried to call him twice more while he was gone, hoping he’d have a change of heart and hear her out. Knowing how stubborn he was, she wasn’t terribly surprised when he didn’t pick up or call her back.
Still, it hurt.
The shoot at Z Studios had gone well. She’d made a respectable income on it after Bastian reviewed her footage and determined which of her images he’d be using. He had visions of another Times Square billboard in the coming months and approached her again about a partnership. She once again told him she’d think about it.
Dee also contacted her about some projects that a couple of Savannah clients wanted to commission. The amount they offered was impossible to turn down, so Sierra put together the proposals and mockups and sent them off. She’d gotten a response almost immediately with the go-ahead. She spent hours drawing up plans to get the projects done.
While she was chatting with Dee, they went over the details for the charity event Sierra was organizing for October first. She’d been planning it since last fall with Dee’s help. With the new additions to her collection, she hoped to raise a decent amount of money. It was the benefit’s first year, so neither of them knew what to expect.
Her property management duties had also drawn her attention. She’d handled a slew of tasks for her aunt and uncle. She’d also spoken with her aunt about some of her future plans, as she had to make some serious decisions about balancing her photography and her tasks as a property manager.
Despite all of the activity, though, there was still a void she couldn’t fill. She tossed and turned every night, wondering how she could get Evan to listen to her. The hope she’d harbored that he might stop by when he got back into town was dashed when he completely avoided her. She’d lain awake in her bedroom, listening to him moving around and trying to be quiet. The deliberateness of it had widened the hole in her heart.
He’d been gone all day today, too. She left for a lunch date with Zoe and Hannah and saw that his bike was missing from the parking lot.
Was it going to be like this from now on? So awkward and awful?
She decided to treat herself to a trip to the salon after lunch. Her hair needed a trim and shape, and she’d been thinking of going teal on the hair streaks. She decided on a matching blue-green color for her mani/pedi, too. After that, she headed to the grocery store.
It was after five when she got home. She unloaded her groceries and took Leo for a walk. When they got home, she cracked the top on the chef’s salad she’d picked up and ate it for dinner while she reviewed her e-mails. By the time she was done, it was almost game time.
No matter what she had going on, she managed to watch every ballgame or listen to it on the radio. She knew Evan was struggling, and she had to wonder if it had anything to do with their falling out. The timing was suspicious, to say the least.
She rather hoped that wasn’t the case. She’d feel terrible if she had such power over one of Atlanta’s most prized athletes.
At the same time, she rather hoped it was.
In the end, Atlanta won. After the post-game interviews and commentary wrapped up, she flipped over to SportsCenter and watched the game highlights. Sad as it was, it made her feel better just seeing Evan on the television. Eventually, she turned it off so she could go to bed. That was when she heard a loud commotion over in Evan’s apartment. It sounded like pounding and breaking glass.
She thought for a minute that the noise was coming from a really loud television, maybe an action movie or something equally filled with destruction. That didn’t make any sense, though. The building was soundproofed enough that she couldn’t hear things from the floors beneath her. Evan was surely still at the stadium, so how could it be coming from his apartment?
She finally concluded that the dogs must have gotten into something. Since Beck wasn’t injured anymore, Evan wasn’t caging the boys. They had to be fighting to cause such a racket.
She got up and ran to the door. Her cell phone rang as she reached for the handle. She’d accidentally left it in her purse, she realized. The only reason she heard it now was because her purse was on the dining table a few feet away. Torn, she looked between her purse and the door.
The sound of panicked, pain-filled barking had her turning the knob and flinging the door open. Miller could be aggressive sometimes, but would he hurt Beck? If so, what had poor Beck done to provoke him?
She realized she’d left Evan’s key in her apartment just as she reached for the doorknob. It turned freely, however.
She raced into the apartment and was nearly bowled over by Beck, who flew past her out into the hallway. The door slammed shut behind her. She realized then that it hadn’t been the dogs who had made the commotion.
And she wasn’t alone.
* * *
Evan went two-for-four with an RBI and executed a couple of difficult plays to prevent runs by Milwaukee, so he felt better about his game as he got ready to head home.
Too bad he still didn’t feel better about where things stood with Sierra.
He was relieved to find the bloody doll gone from his dressing area after the game. Hopefully the security team could do whatever they did and get some evidence off the damn thing. He was ready for this to end.
As he walked alone through the tunnels to the player’s lot, he acknowledged that the gruesome image had succeeded in having an impact on him. His brain kept trying to transpose Sierra’s real body with the doll’s, much as Jensen had wanted. Although he wished he could say otherwise, the threat had shaken him.
He’d skipped out on post-game interviews—which was sure to get him an earful from his agent and Caroline—and had gotten dressed before anyone else, anxious to get to his apartment. He didn’t even bother trying to tell himself it wasn’t because he wanted to make sure Sierra was all right. She was all he could think about.
What if something happened to her?
The thought propelled him more quickly out of the tunnel. That was how he caught the subtle movement beside his bike.
Reaching for his phone, he broke into a jog. He spotted Burke Richards squatting beside the Harley, a white and blue bag in his hands. His head whirled at the sound of Evan’s footsteps. He let out a curse and stumbled back, landing on his ass. A white, powdery substance hit the pavement around him.
“What the hell, Richards?” Evan asked.
He snapped multiple photographs as he advanced. Thank God for Sierra and her always-present camera. He wouldn’t have thought of it otherwise.
“You’re the one sabotaging my stuff?”
“Shit,” Burke said, looking around as if to check for witnesses. “You’re never out this early, Dorsey.”
“Is this how you’ve been doing it?” Evan asked. “Working around my schedule so you can come in and damage my equipment? Ruin my things?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking—”
“Oh, give me a break, Richards. You’re sitting there with a goddamn bag of sugar, which you’ve obviously just poured into my gas tank. Do you know how much that’s going to cost to fix? I just got the bike back after your hack job on the seat and fender.”
Burke frowned. “What about your seat?”
“Don’t give me that shit. I’ve kept track of every attempt you’ve made to shake me down. The bent cleat, the loosened lace on my glove…everything. I’m sure security is already on their way, seeing as how this is all taking place on the parking lot surveillance cameras. Brilliant of you
to come out and vandalize on-screen, by the way.”
“Hey, man, I seriously don’t know what you’re talking about,” Burke said, his eyes widening in a blend of confusion and alarm as he looked for the security cameras. “I didn’t do any of that.”
The only reason Evan refrained from dragging the guy to his feet and plowing his fist into his face was the cameras. He couldn’t believe the asshole had damaged his bike again.
At least it wasn’t Sierra, he couldn’t help but think.
“Why the hell did you do this?” he asked, hearing the sound of a siren in the distance. “I’ve never done anything to you.”
Burke’s massive shoulders drooped. “I just wanted to bring you down a peg. You’ve been stealing all of the attention from the rest of us.”
“What?”
His complexion reddening, Burke said, “Look, what can I say? I liked the extra attention when I subbed at third. No one asks me for interviews anymore, and it sucks. When I saw that doll and realized someone was messing with you, I made the dumbass decision to do this.”
Shaking his head, Evan said, “You expect me to believe that? You obviously brought that bag of sugar here ahead of time. This was planned, just like everything else.”
“I took the sugar from the clubhouse kitchen ten minutes ago,” Burke argued, shoving the nearly empty bag away as though it disgusted him. “I figured whoever put that doll in your space would get the finger for this. I didn’t think about the damn cameras.”
Evan didn’t know what to think. Burke had just been caught red-handed. Was he denying the other things he’d done just to avoid the extra trouble he’d be in?
“Messing with my stuff is one thing,” Evan said. “But what’s with the threats at my home? The threats against Sierra?”
“I swear, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Burke insisted as the security vehicle pulled up. “I don’t even know where you live, man. Hey, I’m sorry I was such an asshole. I’ll pay for the bike.”