Page 16 of Capture My Heart

If this was the car impounded as part of the armed robbery, the only people who would have access to the car’s key were the impound lot employees or a police officer. The latter sent a shiver down her spine. There had been other instances of corruption. Most were small things that went unnoticed until... A suspect died in holding. The official ruling was heart attack, but Amy had her doubts. Others in the department did as well.

Her fingers hovered over the keys. She trusted Daniels and Peterson but something had her moving her finger to the big red X.

Go with your gut. Her father’s deep voice murmured in her ear.

Her left hand clenched the medal hanging around her neck. Her right hovered over the mouse. On an exhale, she clicked it.

Nope, she wasn’t talking to anyone yet. She needed to do some digging.

She glanced at the time. Too late tonight to talk to anyone at the lot, so she might as well change and go watch the APD get slaughtered by the AFD. Knowing the athletic skill of the APD she’d put money on the firefighters.

She shook her head. The only reason they beat them on the basketball court this winter was because CJ’s brother, Harrison, subbed. But he and Mira were on a trip to Europe and weren’t scheduled to come back until next week.

She locked her computer, shoved it in her backpack, and pushed up from her desk. Maybe a game and a beer would be good. Just be one of the guys. She’d forget about the old case and her new landlord for one night.

Chapter 4

Something soft smacked Trey in the back of the head. He tugged the blue T-shirt down and quirked a brow.

“Here. Now you’re officially a member of the team. I hope your reflexes are better on the field.” Jim adjusted his ballcap to hide his smile, but Trey caught the edge of his raised lip.

“Don’t worry about me.” He reached behind his head and pulled his shirt off. Motion to his right grabbed his attention. Larson. She stood on the edge of the dugout in cutoff denim shorts and the best fitting tank top he’d seen in years.

Oh yeah, he caught the stare of those baby blues. He tipped his chin to her then slipped the new team shirt over his head.

She dropped her bag and closed the distance in three long strides.

Each step reverberated through his body. He enjoyed watching those long legs eat up the dirt more than he should.

“What are you doing here?” Her hand flew to her hips.

His eyes caught the faint bump of her hidden hip holster. A 9mm he guessed. His gaze strolled back up her long torso, taking in every inch of that snug tank. Then, bam, it came to a screeching halt at her grim expression. Their gazes locked. “I was invited. I heard they were shorthanded.”

“Who?” When he didn’t speak, she huffed and asked, “Who invited you?”

“I did.” Jim stepped up behind her, a clipboard in his hand. “I thought you couldn’t make it tonight, so I asked Trey to join us.”

“If you’re here, I’ll bow out.” Trey started to lift his shirt. He didn’t miss her gaze zeroing in on his abs.

“No. You’re here. Play.” She turned to Jim. “I finished up early, so I thought I’d come to show my support. You guys will need it.”

“Hey now, if you’re going to diss us, go sit with the peanut gallery.” He pointed to his fiancée Liz and the other women.

“Sound’s good.” She stopped mid-stride and turned back. “Don’t forget. Evans likes fast balls and Burnett is a sneaky bastard. He’ll steal a base if you give him an inch.”

Jim nodded and she walked away.

Trey watched. His eyes tracked to her curvy ass in those hip-hugging shorts. She might be corrupt, but damn, she was sexy.

Jim smacked him with a shirt. “Alright, game on.”

Trey knew what he meant. Time to mingle.

CJ stood with several of the team members when Trey approached. “Hey, everyone, this is Trey. He owns the gym on Eighth and is helping us out tonight since we were down a player. Make him feel welcome.”

Trey had the advantage, as he had been studying the entire department's files this week which had their photos. Ryan Daniels walked up first and extended a hand. “Hey, good to have you.” He leaned in and did a head nod toward the bleachers. “Don’t make us look bad in front of the ladies.”

“Hey.” A short brunette with glasses stepped up. “Daniels, you’re a moron. I’m Maria Cortis. I play third base.”