The Perfect Game (4 page)

Chapter Six

(Tuesday, July 26)

Everybody in attendance at the memorial, which seemed like every well-connected person in the Phoenix metropolitan area, commented on how beautiful the service was. The church was gorgeous, the flower arrangements were plentiful, the minister's platitudes were polished. Jake was overwhelmed by grief so Buffy had planned the service. The entire event resembled Buffy's house: flawless, ostentatious, and impersonal. The minister referred to Liz as Elizabeth. Several of Liz's “friends,” in their black Armani dresses and mile-high Prada heels, spoke about how close they had been to “Elizabeth.” Lauren didn't recognize any of them.

Jake spoke eloquently about the amazing life they shared while noisy television helicopters hovered overhead, trying to get video footage of the mourners.

Lauren didn't speak. She had offered to help with the service, but Jake had assured her everything had already been arranged. She and Rose-ma sat together in the front pew alongside Jake and his parents. Lauren felt detached, as if attending the funeral of a stranger.

After the memorial, Jake ushered Lauren and Rose-ma into one of several black Lincoln town cars heading to a mausoleum in North Scottsdale. They rode in silence, alone with their grief.

Lauren hoped the Wakefields had limited the cemetery service to family members. They had not. Dozens of cars lined up behind Jake's car with illuminated headlights. Policemen on motorcycles solemnly escorted the long procession to the cemetery. Hundreds of Jake's fans lined the streets, hooting, hollering, and holding up homemade signs. At Paradise Memorial Gardens, cooling fans blew mist on the large crowd as the minister launched into yet another long-winded sermon about God's wisdom.

Lauren began to count the times the minister used the word “mysterious.” By the time he wrapped up thirty-five minutes later, she was up to thirty-eight. More than one per minute. That must be some sort of weird world record. Jake kissed the ornate urn before it was placed into a small vault that resembled Lauren's locker at work.

Anger reared up like a beast within Lauren's chest. Anger at God for taking Liz. Anger at Buffy for planning the world's most impersonal service. Anger at the minister for not knowing when to shut up already. Anger at all these society crowd looky-loos who wanted to be able to brag about attending the hot ticket event. Anger at the police for not catching the killer yet. And anger at Liz for leaving her. If Liz was here, she would make Lauren laugh about this ridiculous circus. If only Liz were here…

Despite the elaborate misting system, Rose-ma was wilting and Lauren needed to get her out of the sun before she suffered heatstroke. It took her a moment to locate Jake in the crowd, where he was being consoled by several of his teammates. He excused himself to greet Lauren as she approached. “I need to get Rose-ma out of this heat.”

“Why don't you two head to my parents' house?” he offered. “Mom hired a caterer. Rose-ma can rest in the guest quarters if she likes.”

Lauren didn't relish the prospect of making small talk with a bunch of strangers.

“I don't know.” Lauren said, trying to think of a reasonable excuse.

Jake seemed to read her mind. “No worries. You can come by later if you feel up to it. Take any of the town cars. Just tell the driver where you want to go.” He hugged Rose-ma and whispered in Lauren's ear as he embraced her, “I'll call you soon. Thanks for your support. It means the world to me.”

The rest of the guests continued to mingle as if at some macabre cocktail party. Lauren helped to steady Rose-ma in her sturdy heels as they headed back to the cars.

“Lauren?”

Detective Boyd was hurrying across the grass behind them. He greeted them both courteously. “Is everything all right?”

Lauren explained that Rose-ma was overheating.

Boyd nodded understandingly. “Before you go, can you tell me if there was anybody at the service that you didn't recognize?”

Lauren hesitated. How did she tell him that about the only person she did know was in the urn? She fumbled over her words, explaining how she had been busy with school in California. How she had only recently moved to Arizona. How she and Liz squeezed in time together around Lauren's crazy schedule. Even to her own ears, it sounded like a series of excuses to explain why she hadn't even known who her own sister's friends had been. He assured her that he understood.

The cool interior of the car was welcoming. As soon as the car pulled away, Rose-ma said, “That was a very strange service.” She appeared flustered and stammered, “I didn't mean to say strange. What I meant to say was that was a very sweet service. I'm sorry. Sometimes my words come out wrong.” Lauren smiled wearily at her grandmother and patted her hand.

“Don't worry, Rose-ma, I know exactly what you meant.”

Chapter Seven

(Friday, July 29)

True to his word, Jake called Lauren a few days later. Lauren took a break from work to take his call, hoping his name on her caller ID meant there had been a break in the case.

“Hey, Lauren. I was calling to check on you and Rose-ma,” he said.

“We're doing as well as can be expected. How about you?”

Jake sighed. His inability to speak spoke volumes.

Anxious to break the uncomfortable silence, Lauren said, “You pitched a great game yesterday. Roger Smithson looked shocked when that last pitch broke into the strike zone at the last moment.”

Jake chuckled a bit and the awkward moment passed. “You saw the game? Did you see how much grief Smithie gave the umpire for calling it a strike?”

“Yeah, but he knew it was a strike. When the reporters asked him about it after the game, he could barely conceal a smile.”

Jake laughed again. “Who knew baseball required so many acting skills? Did you see Molten pretend to get hit by a pitch?”

“No, I missed that part. What happened?”

“He put on a huge show. Shaking his hand and cursing up a blue streak. The ump gave him a base. But on the slow-motion playback, the ball clearly hit the bat, not his hand.”

“When you're ready to retire from baseball, I guess you'll be ready for primetime.”

“So, how about you, Lauren?” Jake asked. “Didn't you go back to work, too?”

“Yesterday. The chief of staff offered to let me defer my residency by a year.”

“That sounds good. You should take them up on it. Take some time off to…” Jake paused to find the right word, “…unwind.”

“No way,” she said. “Sitting around waiting for the detectives to call would land me in the funny farm in no time. Work is a welcome relief. Sure, it is relentless and challenging, but it also keeps me so busy that I don't have time to dwell on Liz until my shift ends. And the other interns have been amazing to me. I've only known them for a month, but they already have my back.”

“I know what you mean.” Jake said. “Most of the time, I can't stop thinking about Liz, but when I'm on the mound, it's just me and the batter. And the other players are like my brothers. Something like this makes you appreciate your real friends, you know?”

“Absolutely. Have you heard anything from the detectives?”

“Nothing of interest,” he lamented. “I call those guys at least once a day. They tell me they're making progress, but they don't provide any specifics.”

“Same here,” Lauren said. “They always take my call, but they never tell me anything. I know nothing more than I did on day one.”

“Those yahoos don't know what they're doing. I've gone back in there to talk to them a couple more times and they keep repeating the same questions. They're wasting their time on me instead of following up other leads.”

“Wasting their time on
us
,” Lauren said. “They called me back in for a second interview, too.”

“They did?”

“And asked all the same questions again. Does that mean they don't believe me?”

Lauren was interrupted by Dr. Stone. “Med flight is en route. Child submerged in a backyard pool for three minutes. Sometimes young ones bounce back in surprising ways. Come up to the helipad with me?”

Lauren nodded, and wrapped up the phone conversation as she followed Stone up the back staircase. “Jake, duty calls. Can I call you back later? Are you still in Houston?”

“Yep, we play the Astros again tomorrow. We'll be flying home tomorrow night. I have Sunday off, so I was hoping we might be able to get together then.”

“I already promised Rose-ma I'd go to mass with her.”

“Perfect. Why don't we all go together and go eat afterwards? We have a great brunch at our country club.”

Lauren was touched by Jake's effort to look after her, recognizing the void that Liz's death had created in her life. “Sounds like a deal, pickle.”

“You Rose girls and your weird expressions,” Jake laughed. “Liz used to say that, too.”

Chapter Eight

(Sunday, July 31)

Approaching her grandmother's apartment on Sunday morning, Lauren could hear Jake's infectious chuckle and Rose-ma's giggle. When Rose-ma let her in, Jake was holding a delicate floral teacup in his huge hands. “Don't forget to curl your pinky finger,” she teased. Jake curled his large pinky compliantly.

“I was just telling Jake about the time Liz got stuck in the mud,” Rose-ma said.

Lauren smiled at the image that came to mind. “She screamed so loud we thought she was being attacked by wild animals. My dad grabbed her and she came right out of her bright red boots.”

Jake smiled, “Liz had a flair for the dramatic.”

“That's an understatement,” Lauren said. “During a genealogy project in fourth grade, Liz told her teacher she was half-vampire on her mother's side.”

Rose-ma hooted, “Well, that would explain why you girls never got enough sleep. Liz did have a tendency to embellish things.”

“One of the things I loved most about Liz was her ability to tell a good story,” Jake said. “She could turn a routine trip to the grocery store into an epic comic adventure.”

“Everybody used to think I was so quiet,” Lauren said. “What they didn't realize was growing up with Liz made it hard to get a word in edgewise.” They all laughed.

“Sit down and have a bite of breakfast with us before mass, dear?” Rose-ma said.

“I thought we were going to brunch afterwards,” Lauren said.

“Yes, but you shouldn't go to church on an empty stomach. You'll be so weary, you'll fall on your face,” Rose-ma persisted. If Liz had been here, she and Lauren would have shared knowing glances. Her grandmother had a reputation for force-feeding people.

Jake caught Lauren's eye and flashed a perceptive grin. “Yeah, come have breakfast with us.” Jake had a grapefruit on a dish in front of him.

“I'd love some toast,” Lauren said.

“Are you sure you don't want the other half of my grapefruit?” Jake's smile was sly.

“I couldn't take food out of your mouth.”

After placating Rose-ma by eating a few bites, they headed off to church. Jake's convertible was a two-seater, so he had brought Liz's sedan. Lauren's breath caught in her throat when she saw the champagne-colored Lexus. The car was so inexorably linked in her mind with Liz that Lauren half-expected to see Liz behind the wheel. As they climbed in, Lauren caught a fleeting whiff of Liz's favorite perfume. Grief smothered her like a heavy blanket.

Jake dropped Rose-ma and Lauren off near the church door so Rose-ma would not have to walk in the heat. Several of the other parishioners stopped to offer condolences, well-intentioned expressions of sympathy that served as painful reminders of their loss. Rose-ma and Lauren slipped into a pew and took their seats. Several minutes later, Jake entered, surrounded by a huddle of buzzing people. He signed autographs, took pictures with strangers, and even held somebody's baby for a photograph. The crowd finally diminished as the services started and Jake slid into the seat next to Lauren.

Their return to the car after the service was similarly impeded by a crush of people anxious to meet the famous baseball pitcher. It took almost thirty-five minutes to make the short trek to the car in the parking lot. Jake cheerfully accommodated every autograph request.

Brunch at Jake's upscale country club was subdued by comparison.

“People here don't pester you for autographs?” Lauren asked.

“Nah. This is my parents' club, so most these folks have known me since I was a snotty-nosed little boy. Besides, this crowd considers it beneath them to ask for a common autograph. They'd rather pay extravagant prices for an autographed ball from some charity auction so they can write it off on their taxes.”

The brunch menu offered tempting choices such as crepes, Bourbon-dipped French toast, and truffled Kennebec potatoes.

“Order whatever your heart's desire,” Jake offered. “My treat.”

“I'm going to have eggs Benedict,” Lauren decided. “I'm sure my heart doesn't desire that, but my stomach sure does.”

Lauren and Jake exchanged knowing smiles when Rose-ma ordered an egg-white omelet with a side of grapefruit.

“I'm going to bust my training diet for this meal,” Jake announced before ordering the breakfast sampler of pancakes, eggs, hash browns, and bacon. The waiter served complimentary mimosas.

“Have you seen all of the crazy tabloid stories about me and Liz?” Jake asked after the waiter was out of earshot.

Lauren rolled her eyes. “The stories get more far-fetched every day. Apparently Liz had a stalker, you're gay, Liz was really a man. Should I go on?”

“Don't forget that I supposedly have 'roid rage. And my personal favorite is that Liz and I were swingers,” he laughed. “I don't seem to remember any of it.”

“Your amnesia will probably be tomorrow's headline.”

Jake looked around the room. “Shhhh,” he said theatrically, “the walls have ears.”

“I love how the articles always reference anonymous sources close to the Wakefields. Who are these sources with their outrageous theories?”

“A bunch of money-grubbing, attention-seeking crazies,” Jake said.

“You think they get paid for those stories?” Lauren asked.

“I know they do. Most of those trashy rags will pay anything for some good dirt, even if it's not true. And you'd be surprised how many people feel like they know me because I took a quick photo with them. I love my fans, but they can get pretty scary.”

“Speaking of fans, how about those Dodgers?” Lauren teased Jake.

The conversation turned to baseball. Lauren had been a die-hard fan of professional baseball since she was young, when her father used to take her to games at Dodger stadium. Ironically, Liz had never shown any interest in baseball.

“I think Mikelski's a better shortstop than Barlow was,” Lauren commented on the Diamondbacks' recent mid-season change.

Jake paused to consider this, “Just between you and me, I agree. But if Barlow ever asked me, I'd deny it to my death.”

Lauren was disappointed to see the bill arrive. She had never realized how much she enjoyed Jake's company.