Flying Bats and Cracker Jacks

Chapter 2 (In Which we Meet the Detectives)

Alvarez popped her bubblegum to fill the silence. She believed that music of any kind interfered with her ability to concentrate on driving yet she chomped on her bubble gum loudly, like a cow eating grass. It annoyed Peter to no end but he wasn't going to challenge his boss's hypocritical ways on the first week of the job. And, with her crazy New Yorker driving, she could wreck the car because of just a few, terse words out of his mouth.

Peter anxiously drummed his fingers on his lap. He was bored senseless by sitting in the never-ending stream of traffic that led to the stadium and Alvarez wasn't good company. The reporters and news vehicles were conducting a cacophonous symphony of car honks and squealing brakes yet Alvarez remained oblivious. She was looking through her windshield forlornly, as if she was lost in another world.

Usually, she was aggressive in traffic but today, she was withdrawn.

He cleared his throat. "Can I have a piece of bubble gum?"

She lifted her gaze from the windshield. "What?"

He wanted to sigh but he suppressed the urge. He repeated the question. "Can I please have a piece of bubble gum?" He reasoned that she would be more apt to respond if he added that certain nicety.

She reached into the pocket of her gray, buttoned-up blazer and handed him the pack of gum. "Thanks," he mumbled.

Alvarez nodded and retrained her eyes on the road. She continued to be eerily silent until they reached the stadium.

Once she successfully parked the car in a narrow parking spot, he let out the breath he didn't realize he had been holding. Something was making Alvarez uneasy and perhaps a change of scenery would improve her mood.

She opened the glove compartment of the car and rummaged around until she found a map of Turner Field that she had printed at the precinct an hour ago, when she was assigned the case.

"I've never been to Turner Field before," she finally said.

"Neither have I."

She raised her eyebrows at Peter. "What's your excuse? You've lived here all your life. Surely you've been with one of your friends to a half price baseball game on Tuesday."

"Honestly, I haven't. I don't see what's so appealing about baseball."

At that moment, he could have sworn her jaw dropped to the floor. She slammed the door behind her and he cautiously followed. Obviously he didn't have the right words to say.

"What do you mean you don't understand what's appealing about baseball? It's America's game! It ties people from all walks of life together under one roof to root for the home team. The away team be damned," she exclaimed.

They walked across the ashen pavement of the deserted parking lot towards the entrance gates. "That's a very militant attitude you have towards the other team when you're supposed to be coming together under one roof," he countered.

Her black, heeled boots stopped clicking and she turned to face her partner. "Baseball isn't like hockey. It's much friendlier competition because it's a low contact sport. If a team is annoyed about losing a game, this will motivate them further to come back and win the game the next day. There's no need to settle their differences with fists. The lack of violence makes it a family sport all can bond over while eating the same greasy ballpark food.

"Sounds like you're promoting America's increasing obesity rate," he grumbled.

She continued walking and he joined her on her left side.

"Oh you sour puss. It's just one day of fun. We don't eat deep fried corn dogs every day," she said, carefully skirting around saying words she couldn't say on duty.

"Are you sure about that?"

"Tsk, tsk. That's inappropriate to say to your superior officer. And I know that you know exactly what regulation number that is too, Mr. I-Should-Bring-The-500-Page-Handbook-To-Every-Crime--Scene. Have you memorized the entire book yet? The police academy told you to have it memorized for the first day of the job so you're slacking, Probie," she snickered.

Sure, he was a by-the-book kind of guy but he wasn't about to memorize the entire handbook. Now, that's not to say that he didn't read it cover to cover. He was well versed in the clauses of the handbook that pertained to his position in the homicide department and less versed in the clauses regarding bank fraud.

He made a quick decision not to respond to her jests. She was already in a bad mood due to the car ride and he had to make it worse by saying that he didn't like baseball. This one time, he'd let her have her fun at his expense.

The detectives approached the "EMPLOYEES ONLY" secret, short cut gate and realized why the parking lot was deserted. All of the people whose cars were in the parking lot were stuck in the stadium. The minimal security staff stationed there had placed the entire stadium on lock down in hopes of containing the killer until the police arrived. As a result, chaos is swarming around the ballpark while the reporters storm the field with their questions.

They open the gate and walk across the baseball diamond, assuming that the crime scene was near the chaos. They're right.