Clandestine Cover-Up. Pamela Tracy

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Clandestine Cover-Up - Pamela  Tracy


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Vince, sorry it took me so long to answer. I didn’t hear the phone buzzing in my purse. What’s up?” Lisa didn’t sound stressed enough to be in labor. And in the background, he could hear the muted sounds of a softball game in progress. He looked across the street at the shimmering lights of a ballpark.

      “Do you know where Tamara is?”

      “Sure, she’s here with us. Alex’s church team is playing tonight.”

      “I’ll be right there.” It made perfect sense, Vince thought. She’d not need to drive the car across the street to the park. It was just as quick to walk. Which was what he started to do. His steps quickened the closer he got because he didn’t see two redheads, just one.

      Lisa Cooke, Tamara’s sister, nine months’ pregnant, and who should be taking it easy, was in the stands cheering on her husband.

      “Hey!” Lisa called. She nudged her stepdaughter, Amy, whose nose was in a book, and they both scooted over, giving him some room to sit down. “So, you want to tell me what’s up with you and my sister?” she asked.

      “Where is she?”

      “She didn’t want to use her cell phone and watch the game at the same time. She’s been slumming behind the snack bar for the past half hour.”

      “Can you see her?”

      Lisa pointed. “The preacher already wants her for third base. He says if she shows that much passion for a phone call, just think what she’d muster for a play-off game.”

      “Who’s she talking to?” Vince asked.

      “I’m pretty sure she’s still on the phone with Terry, which amazes me since I thought they weren’t talking.”

      “Terry?”

      “Her ex-fiancé.”

      Vince started to stand, then thought better of it. He patted Amy on the head. She giggled and went back to reading.

      The bleachers weren’t built with big men in mind. Vince found a place to stretch his feet and managed to knock over Lisa’s purse. After he righted it, he asked, “Did you know she bought the old Amhurst Church building?”

      “Yes, and I think it’s great.”

      “If you think it’s great, then she didn’t tell you about yesterday. Someone had painted a warning on the front door.”

      Lisa glanced at her daughter, who wasn’t paying the slightest attention, and asked, “What did it say?”

      “You’re not wanted here.”

      Lisa’s lips tightened. “She didn’t say a word. She thinks just because I’m pregnant I’m made of glass. Did she say anything about William Massey? You think that’s why she’s talking to Terry?”

      “She called someone yesterday. I’m not sure it was this Terry guy or not. Seems Massey’s still in jail.”

      “Could he have—”

      “Tamara said she’d find out. That’s basically why I’m here. I was with her at the church building last night. I even saw her safe into her apartment. Today, I can’t seem to get her out of my mind. I can’t believe she didn’t tell you any of this.”

      “She didn’t tell me because I’d have insisted she come stay with us. She probably thinks she’d be in the way or somehow put us in danger.”

      “I don’t think she should be in her apartment alone,” Vince said. “Not until the authorities find out who is leaving threatening messages.”

      “Messages,” Lisa said. “You mean there was more than one?”

      Before he could answer, the people around them screamed and jumped up. It didn’t take long to figure out the game had ended with Alex hitting a triple and bringing two runners in.

      The remaining fans started gathering their kids and belongings. It didn’t look like tonight would be one of those lingering, “let’s go out for pizza” kind of nights. Glancing at his watch, Vince realized it was late even for a Saturday game. It was well past nine, it was dark, and there was church in the morning for most people there.

      Lisa didn’t smile as she made sure Amy had everything and then carefully climbed down from one stair to the next. When they reached the bottom, Tamara stood waiting. The look on her face clearly showed her displeasure.

      “Vince, when did you get here?” Tamara asked.

      “A good half hour ago.”

      “Long enough to tell me what you didn’t bother to tell me,” Lisa said.

      “It might be nothing,” Tamara insisted. “Massey never sent me a ‘get lost’ message. It was always a ‘you’re mine’ kind of message. Besides, I’ve called the victim information and notification hotline three times, and they say Massey hasn’t been released. Terry says that Massey hasn’t left jail. He hasn’t had any visitors, either. And, apparently, his cellmate is a white-collar criminal who only wants to do his time and get out. Massey’s not a threat.”

      “Someone’s a threat,” Vince reminded her.

      Tamara nodded. “Only thing new in Massey’s life is some hotshot lawyer he’s hired. Terry says the guy’s trying to get some of my testimony stricken because of lawyer/client confidentiality.”

      “Can they do that?” Lisa asked.

      “Since I met Massey while I was assisting the attorney who was representing him on a separate matter, yes. Never mind that, after he started stalking me, my firm severed representation. His attorney is going to claim that while testifying, I had knowledge that I wouldn’t have had if I had not been present during the first case. He’s going to go over every transcript of my testimony and look for key phrases, similarities, any time I might have used legal jargon instead of acting like a witness.”

      “It doesn’t seem right,” Vince said.

      “It’s exactly what I’d be doing if I were his new lawyer. They’re scrounging for reasonable doubt,” Tamara said. “So, now, along with trying to figure out who painted the words on my door, I need to worry about the possibility of Massey’s release.”

      “Vince.” Alex, out of breath, and still flying high from being instrumental in the winning run, chose that moment to join them. Grinning, he reached out to shake Vince’s hand. “Good to see you.” Alex let go of Vince’s hand and reached for his wife.

      She didn’t move toward him. Instead, through gritted teeth, she muttered, “We’re going to have a little talk with my big sister.”

      Concern flickered across Alex’s face.

      “No, not about me,” Lisa quickly assured him.

      He looked from Lisa, to Vince, to Tamara. His daughter was the only other one present who didn’t have a clue what was going on.

      “Great hit, Dad,” Amy said, giving him a hug. She was soon skipping toward the parking lot with another little girl about the same age.

      “Okay, what’s going on?” Alex asked.

      “Tamara’s not safe,” Lisa said quickly. “She needs to move in with us for a while.”

      “I’m not sure if I’m safe or not,” Tamara insisted. “But if I’m not safe, you guys are the last ones I’m going to endanger.” She looked pointedly at Lisa’s stomach. “In a few days, you’ll have another baseball player to worry about, and I’m certainly not going to let my problems become your problems.”

      Alex turned to Vince. “Tell me everything.”

      It took all of ten minutes, and Tamara only interrupted once a minute.

      When they finished, Alex simply shook his head, dropped his bat bag to the ground and went back to the dugout. When Vince saw what


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