Page 57 of Fastball Fever
I raise my eyebrows."Are you suggesting we—"
"No sex.Just meet me there."She jumps up, clapping her hands as our next batter approaches the plate."Let's go, Jackson!Eyes on the ball!"
Three hours later, we've lost 6-2, and the team trudges back to the locker room with slumped shoulders.
I shower quickly, then slip away before the post-game press conference.The hallways underneath Altitude Stadium are a maze of concrete and fluorescent lighting, but I follow the signs toward the home team's area.My heart pounds against my ribs—not from exertion but from the knowledge that we're crossing a line here.If we get caught snooping around the Altitude's equipment room, it'll be more than just embarrassing.
This could end Amy's coaching career before it truly begins.
I find her waiting in a service corridor, her hair still damp from her own shower, dressed in Admirals warm-ups.
"This is crazy," I hiss, glancing over my shoulder."What exactly are we looking for?"
"I don't know yet."Her voice is hushed yet determined."But I've been watching baseball my whole life, Charlie.The way you guys have been connecting with the ball isn't natural.The entire team seems almost…drugged."
Oh, shit.I think she's right.It would explain how our entire team could turn into losers overnight.And it's exactly the kind of ploy Jared would concoct.
"Drugged?"I shake my head, but the more I think about it, the more it makes sense."How would they even pull that off?"
"I don't know yet.That's what we're here to find out."
Amy peeks around the corner, then motions for me to follow.We move silently down the corridor until we reach a door marked "Equipment Storage—Authorized Personnel Only."
"It's probably locked," I whisper.
Amy pulls a keycard from her pocket."Borrowed this from one of the janitorial staff.Told him I left my tablet in a conference room."
I gape at her."You're full of surprises, Coach Keller."
"My dad taught me that winning sometimes means thinking outside the rulebook."She swipes the card, and the lock clicks open."Not cheating—just strategic intelligence gathering."
"You're one sexy spy, Coach."
Her smug smile makes me want to kiss her senseless.But this isn't the right time.
We slip inside the storage room, closing the door behind us.The room is dark until Amy finds a switch, illuminating rows of shelves stacked with equipment.Bats, gloves, helmets, and boxes of balls line the walls.
"What should we be looking for?"I ask, scanning the room.
"Anything suspicious."Amy moves toward the bat rack."Something that could explain why our team suddenly can't hit worth a damn."
I follow her lead, examining the equipment.The Altitude's prized torpedo bats are arranged neatly on a special rack.They look normal—polished wood, professionally maintained.
"These are our game bats."I run my fingers along one of them.Something feels off about the texture—a slight stickiness to the grip that doesn't seem right.I lift my fingers to my nose and catch a faint, familiar scent.
"Amy," I whisper urgently."Smell this."
She moves closer, her shoulder brushing against mine as she leans in.Amy takes the bat, brings it up to her nose, and…her eyes widen."Is that what I think it is?"
"Feels oily and smells like marijuana, so it must be THC oil."My mind races with uncomfortable questions, things I wish weren't true."They might be coating the bats with THC.When our guys make contact, the residue transfers to their hands, gets absorbed through the skin."
Amy wipes a hand over her mouth, saying nothing for a moment.Then her shoulders sag."Since you all touch your faces constantly during games…"
"We're getting a mild contact high without even knowing it."I clench my fists."That's why we all feel woozy after a few innings.Our reflexes slow down, our focus gets shot…"
"Those bastards."Amy pulls out her phone, snapping several quick photos of the bats."We need evidence.Lots of it."
I grab a torpedo bat, turning it over in my hands to examine it more closely."Look at this.There's slight discoloration on the grip.It's subtle, but it's definitely been treated with something."
