I don’t bother going back on the field or even into the dugout. No way could I play right now. And I realize this has never happened before. Never in my life have I been too distracted to play ball. Hell, I even played in a game the day my mother died back in college.
After I cuss out my locker and throw a few things around the clubhouse, I pocket my phone and go up to the communications booth, pushing past reporters to get through the door. “What the fuck happened?” I yell to the boisterous room.
All eyes turn to me. The owner of the team looks more than a little pissed off, but not at me. He wants answers same as I do. “We’re working with our technology team and the police to figure that out right now.”
I write down a name and Murphy’s old address and show it to one of the officers. “The guy’s name is Tony Fields. I don’t know his address, but that’s where he hangs out a lot. He’s my girlfriend’s ex and I can tell you with one-hundred-percent certainty she had no knowledge of that video. It was taken without her consent. He tried to blackmail me a few weeks ago, but I thought he was lying about the tape.” I pick out the police officer who looks like he might be in charge. “I want to press charges. As many of them as I can. That asshole is going down.”
The officer looks at me in sympathy. “I understand your frustration, Mr. Kessler. But there is an order to things that we must follow before any arrest can be made; if it even comes to that.”
“If?” I say incredulously. I look to see a ring on his finger. Then I read his nametag. “I’m not sure you do understand, Officer Carson. Because if what happened out there had happened to your wife, you know as well as I do you’d already have the guy in cuffs. And I’ll bet his face would be beaten to a bloody pulp, too. Am I wrong?”
The guy’s jaw twitches and I know every word I said is true.
“Still, Mr. Kessler, we have men working to find out how the stadium’s video feed was commandeered. And we’ll need to interview your girlfriend. If she was the woman in the video, she’ll be the one to press unlawful surveillance charges, not you. Even without her we should be able to pin him with a slew of charges, which may include extortion, computer trespass, unauthorized use of a computer, not to mention dissemination of lewd and lascivious material contributing to the delinquency of about five thousand minors. But that’s the prosecutor’s job, not mine. Best guess, if everything you told me is true, I’d say he will have one hell of a case against him and a nice stay in one of New York’s finest prisons.”
I see Drew slip in the door and nod his head to me—his sign that Murphy is okay and she got out of the park without incident.
I give Murphy’s information to Officer Carson and then I call her so I can give her a head’s up.
Drew eyes me in confusion. He pulls a phone out of his pocket, looking between me and it. He walks over to me with the ringing phone and shows it to me.
My goddamn picture is displayed on the phone he’s holding. I’m calling that phone. Murphy’s phone.
“What the hell?” I ask Drew.
He hands me the phone. “She told me to give it to you. Said it was yours.” He pulls a hat out of his back pocket. “And she wanted you to have this, too.”
My eyes close briefly before I look inside the hat to see which one it is. My fingers pinch the bridge of my nose as I absorb the gravity of the situation. She gave me back the phone I bought her. She doesn’t want the hat.
She doesn’t want me.
There is a little voice in the back of my head saying, ‘Three strikes – you’re out.’
“Where did she go?” I ask Drew.
“I put her in a cab by herself. I don’t know where it took her.” He shakes his head. “Sorry, Mr. Kessler.”
I get the attention of the owner. “Jason, I’d like to call a press conference.”
He nods. “I think that would be a good idea. I’ll do it with you. I’ll apologize to the fans for the video and tell them we’re doing everything we can to apprehend those responsible. Then I’ll give you the floor and you can do what you need to do. I’ll get the ball rolling and text you with the details. With the press already here, we should be able to set it up within the hour.”
“Thank you. I’ll go get a shower and see what I can find out before then.”
Drew walks with me back to the clubhouse, keeping eager reporters from getting too close. They are itching to scoop the story. But I’m hoping to keep the damage to a minimum with the press conference.
I pull out my phone to call Ethan, finally taking time to glance at the unread text messages on my screen. One of them catches my eye.
Unknown: Time’s up. Last chance. Before game time today.
Shit.
I never check my phone on game days once I put it in my locker. I can’t have the distraction. Between my pre-game workout and my music, he could have sent it hours before we took the field. I momentarily wonder how he got my private number. Then again, the guy just hacked into Hawks Stadium, so finding an unpublished number probably wasn’t that hard for him.
I place a call to Ethan and tell him to do everything he can to keep the video off the internet. I tell him I don’t care how much it costs, I want people on it around the clock until every last one is taken down.
Even though the video was only playing for a minute or two, I’m sure hundreds if not thousands of fans captured it with their phones. And Tony threatened to release it on the internet, so as far as I know, the entire video is already out there.
By the time I end the call, the game is over and my team trickles into the clubhouse. Most of them avoid me like the plague, not knowing what to say or how to say it. Some guys come over and give me a supportive pat on the back. Brady and Sawyer pull up chairs and sit down next to me.
“Where is she?” Sawyer asks.
“That’s the million-dollar question,” I say. I hold out her phone. “She left her phone. I can’t even call her.”
I explain to them how Tony came to me a few weeks ago and I discounted his threats.
“I would have done the same thing, Kess,” Brady says. “You did nothing wrong.”
I shake my head. “Oh, but I did. I fucked up. She thinks I lied to her and” —I scrub a hand across my jaw— “and I think she’s done with me.”
Our manager enters the clubhouse, slamming the door on his way in. He hands me a piece of paper that has a fine on it along with a seven-game suspension.
“Are you kidding me?” I yell after him as he walks away. “You’re suspending me?”
Rick turns around. “It’s the usual penalty for walking out of a game.”
“The usual penalty?” I ask, dumbfounded. “Rick, there was nothing usual about what happened. The girl in that video is my girlfriend. The fucking love of my life. She’s someone’s daughter for Christ sake. What if that were your daughter up there?”
“My hands are tied, Caden.”
Brady stands up. “If Kessler is suspended, consider me suspended as well.”
Sawyer stands up too. “And me.”
One by one, all my teammates stand up and cross their arms, putting up a front of solidarity. These guys are not just my teammates, they are family.
Just then, Jason walks in and looks around at everyone standing up in the room that is so silent you could hear a pin drop. “What’s going on here?”
Brady takes the letter out of my hand and walks it over to the team owner.
Jason reads it and looks at Rick. “This is bullshit,” he says, tearing the paper in half. “There will be no such injunction imposed against him. Understood?”
Rick doesn’t look pleased to have been contradicted in front of the team, but he takes his lumps and leaves the room.
“Can you be ready in thirty minutes?” Jason asks. “The press is setting up now.”
“I’ll be there.”
After my shower, I call everyone I know, including Murphy’s mother, to see if I can find her. But no one has seen or heard from her.
No one.
~ ~ ~
Reporters are going wild with questions. They’ve been asked to back off more than once after Jason explained that someone hacked into the system but that we have no other information.
“Who was the man in the video?” a reporter asks.
I look over at Officer Carson and then our PR rep. Both told me that while I could ultimately be liable for what I say, there is hardly any question as to who is behind this.
“The man’s name is Tony Fields,” I say. “He is Murphy’s ex-boyfriend. For six months, he’s been trying to extort money from me in one way or another. When he came to me a few weeks ago, trying to blackmail me with a supposed sex tape, I thought he was lying. He had lied before and I had no reason to believe such a tape existed.”
“Mr. Kessler, if you had known the tape was real, would you have paid Mr. Fields off?” a reporter asks.
I nod my head. “I like to think I wouldn’t. I like to think I might have gone to the police and let them handle it. But that woman is my life.” I look the older male reporter in the eye. “What would you have done?”
“Where is Miss Cavenaugh now?” another reporter asks.
“Where do you think she is?” I say. “She’s been publicly humiliated in the worst way.” I look directly into one of the cameras. “Murphy, if you are watching this, please reach out to me. I know you’re hurting. I know you’re mad at me for not telling you about his threats. I did what I did to protect you.”
The room is abuzz. “You don’t know where she is?” someone asks, shouting over the loud murmurs.
I shake my head. “I screwed up. I should have told her about Tony’s threats, but I didn’t. She has every right to be upset with me. Right now, she must feel like she can’t trust anyone. Men especially.” I look back into the camera. “Please, anyone who is listening, if you see her, don’t laugh. Don’t point. Don’t make a spectacle out of her more than Fields already has. Murphy is strong, but this … this is enough to break anyone.”
I take a few more questions and then Jason ends the press conference.
The police question me for another hour. Then Drew hands me his phone. “You should see this.”
I press play and there is a video of women who have gathered outside the stadium. They are holding signs supporting Murphy and denouncing Tony and any man who violates a woman’s right to privacy.
I wish she could see this. I want her to know that not everyone out there is going to ridicule her. That it could have happened to anyone. That she shouldn’t be ashamed to show her face.
But I can’t tell her any of that. Because she left.
I just hope to God she comes back. I hope she just needed some time to cool off and realize that I was only trying to do what I thought was right. I look around the stadium and let out a sigh. If I lose her, none of this will mean anything.
Baseball used to be my life. My one true love. The thing I couldn’t live without.
What a difference that one person can make.