Page 31 of Fatal Betrayal

"The submarine."

"That's right. It's like you were throwing sidearm or underarm. Your mom thought you were going to break your arm. But your dad said it was your secret weapon."

He frowned. "How do you know that?"

She gave him an astonished look. "How do I know that? I sat with your parents at every game you pitched for like four years."

"You didn't come to that many games."

"Yes, I did. I used to freeze in the stands when you played at Hillside. How can you not remember that?"

Because he hadn't wanted to remember any of the good parts of their childhood friendship. "Well, I probably would have wrecked my arm with that pitch if I'd kept going," he said. "And it usually only worked the first time through the lineup. Then the batters would figure it out."

"Did you play throughout college?"

"I quit after high school graduation. It was too hard to focus on baseball. It didn't seem important enough. What about you? Did you go out for the school paper when you moved to Chicago? Were you the first reporter on every scene?"

"No."

He was surprised. "Really? But you wanted to be a journalist back then. It was all you talked about."

"Things were different after I moved and changed schools. I didn't fit in. I didn't have any friends, and I didn't know what I wanted to do, so I didn't do a lot."

"That's not the Andi I remember."

"You weren't the only one who had a rough time after the kidnapping, and then, with the divorce, I had a lot of other stuff to deal with. It was hard not to have anyone to talk to."

His heart squeezed in an unfamiliar way. He didn't want to feel sorry for her. Even if she'd stayed, he wouldn't have talked to her again after what she'd done to Kyle. But knowing her as well as he'd known her, he felt a rush of sympathy for the girl who'd always wanted her parents to love her more than they hated each other.

"Thank goodness we're finally moving," Andi said.

He was relieved as they sped up. They were getting a little too close, and he couldn't let that happen.

Ten minutes later, they parked on a side street and walked down an alley to the Back Street Bar. It was six-thirty and getting darker by the minute; the sun having slipped past the horizon a half hour ago. As they walked down the alley, there were all kinds of delicious smells coming from nearby restaurants.

"We should make some time to eat," he murmured.

"First, we work," she told him.

He smiled to himself once more. So many things about Andi had changed and yet so many had stayed the same. When she was on a mission, she was all in. Food and everything else could wait.

The bar was crowded when they walked inside. The clientele felt like an after-work group with twenty- and thirty-year-olds filling the tables and barstools."

"Nicer than I expected from the name," Andi said.

"I was thinking the same thing. So, Kristine worked here?"

"Apparently, before she became a nanny. Hopefully, someone will remember her and be able to tell us more about her."

"You'll have to wade through the line to talk to the bartenders," he said. "Maybe we should get a table and see if a server can give us information."

"All right."

As he turned around to find an empty table, his jaw dropped in shock at the man suddenly facing him. He hadn't seen that red hair and freckled face in at least a decade. "TJ Lassiter?" he murmured.

"Cooper Bradford," TJ said, surprise reflected in his gaze. His eyes widened. "And Andi Hart? What is going on? You're here together?"

"Hi, TJ," Andi said. "Long time, no see."

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