"You used to go a lot?"

"Sometimes." She slurped the head. "I dated a guy back in L.A. who was a huge Angels fan. He had season tickets."

Will looked out at the field, needing a change of subject. The Express had their best pitcher up.

"This guy's good," he told her. "Wait till you see his slider."

They watched the next few at bats without talking. She didn't have the need to fill every silence. It was refreshing. Unlike the heat this evening, which was oppressive.

Will glanced at Courtney. The sun reflected off the auburn streaks in her hair. Perspiration misted her chest, and he wondered if he'd ruined her shirt by not letting her change clothes.

The Oklahoma RedHawks hit a triple, and a groan went up from the stands. Courtney lifted her hair off the back of her neck and twisted it into a knot.

"It'll cool off soon," he said, checking the sky. "I bet it drops fifteen degrees soon as the sun sets."

She tore her gaze away from the game and smiled at him. "I don't mind, really. There's a nice breeze."

He felt guilty again, watching her guard come down. It didn't seem like the right moment to bring up a murder case, so he decided to ask about her family.

"So you and Fiona seem pretty close."

She glanced at him, then back at the field. "I guess."

"You guys get along?"

She scoffed. "We'd walk through fire for each other."

"Yeah, but do you get along?"

Her gaze settled on him. "Sometimes. Sometimes not. We're really different."

He sipped his beer. It was ice-cold, just like it needed to be in this heat.

She looked at him. "You have any sisters?"

"Brothers. Two."

"Are you close?"

"Ah, not really. I haven't seen them much these last few years. They're both active duty."

Her eyebrows tipped up. "Your whole family's in the army?"

"Was. My dad's retired now."

"And your mom?"

"She died when I was sixteen."

Courtney's face fell. "How'd she die?"

Will shifted in his seat. How had they gotten around to this? He was here to interview her. "Leukemia."

"I'm sorry," she said, and her eyes looked sincere.

Shit, was she going to ask him about his mom now? He didn't want to go there.

But she didn't either, apparently, because she turned her attention back to the field. The RedHawks scored another run, and Courtney swore under her breath. She was into the game, and he decided to drop the personal stuff for a while.

They spent the next few innings making small talk about baseball. Courtney knew a lot about the sport, and although she didn't keep up with the Express, she was pretty current when it came to the Rangers and the Astros.

An Express hitter knocked one into the lawn, and everyone stood up and cheered. Courtney put two fingers in her mouth and let out a piercing whistle. She turned and smiled at him.

"Hey, are you hungry?" She looked back over her shoulder as the crowd settled down again. "Those hot dogs smell really good."

"I'll get us some dinner," he said, standing up. It would give him a chance to regroup. "You want another beer, too?"

"That's perfect."

"Ketchup? Mustard?"

She pulled some money out of her back pocket, but he waved it off. "It's on me," he said.

"Everything but onions." She smiled. "And I mean everything, even jalapenos, if they have any."

He escaped to the concession line. Everything but onions. Her smile let him know she was thinking about kissing him later.

And why did he feel like he was in high school all of a sudden?

This was pathetic. He needed to get back on track. He was here for information, and this softball approach wasn't working. He needed to be direct, even though he was pretty sure a direct conversation was going to throw a bucket of cold water on the flirty Courtney he was enjoying so much.

But she was a straightforward woman, so he needed just to come right out and ask her about Alvin. What did she know about his law firm? His marriage? His business dealings? What secrets had he spilled during their pillow talk? He needed information, and Courtney had been a deep well of it so far.

Will got the dogs and loaded them up with everything. Then he made his way back down to their seats. She was twisted around, talking to the trio of guys sitting behind her, who'd no doubt been checking out her fancy, silver-studded pockets for five innings.

"Will!" She waved excitedly when she saw him. "You missed the chicken dance."

Thank God. He let her help him with the food, and soon they were chomping on hot dogs as he considered his new approach. But it wasn't going to work. They were hemmed in by baseball fans, and the ones directly behind them were splitting their attention between Courtney and the game.

"Let's walk around," he said. "We haven't seen the park yet."

They took their hot dogs up to the concourse level and started circling the field. It was a nice ballpark. Very family-oriented, with lots of kid activities set up behind the outfield. They headed toward a moonwalk and a rock-climbing wall where half-wasted guys were attempting to impress their dates.

Courtney polished off her dinner. "I love stadium hot dogs." She licked her fingers. "There's something better about them."

Will took another bite of his, but he wasn't hungry anymore. He pitched it into a trash can as they walked past.

"So I have a question for you, but you can't lie." She gave him a coy smile, and he felt a prickle of unease.

"What?"

"Did you know it was my birthday?"

It was her birthday? Shit. It was her birthday. He remembered now, noticing the DOB on her paperwork the day they'd first met.

"You're twenty-seven today," he said, not really answering.

She stopped and caught his hand, grinning. "And he evades the question. You didn't know, did you? When you asked me out tonight?"

"I didn't know." God, he was a jerk. She thought this was a date.

She tugged him forward. "It's okay. I'm glad you were honest. You get brownie points anyway. I haven't been on a date in ages."

Will glanced at her as she walked beside him. Her hand was warm and soft around his, and he didn't really believe she hadn't been on a date in ages. "How come?" he asked.

"I don't know." She sighed. "David kind of soured me on relationships. I'm off men. Or at least, I'm trying. I thought about switching teams for a while, but it would never work."

Will floundered for a response. This woman could never switch teams. It would be a crime against mankind.

She squeezed his hand, and he saw that she was laughing at him. "You blush at the oddest moments."

He cleared his throat. "So anyway." Great start. "I've been talking to Devereaux."

"Uh-huh?"

"He thinks we need to focus on the money."

"The money." Courtney tossed her hot-dog wrapper in a trash can. She turned to face him and slid her hands into her back pockets. "You're talking about David's money?"

"Sort of. See, so far, everything is pretty complicated. There're lots of people involved, which probably means deep pockets somewhere."

"You sound like Jack."

"Jack?"

"Fiona's fiance. He's an investigator with the D.A.'s office."

Will wasn't thrilled about some D.A. guy sniffing around their case, but he let it go. "Anyway, I wanted to get your input. You think Alvin might have been involved in some sort of sketchy business venture? Maybe a deal gone bad?"

She frowned. "I have no idea."

"He owe anyone money, that you know of? Maybe he had a gambling debt?"

She glanced up at him. The sparkle had gone out of her eyes, and he could tell she wasn't happy about this new topic. "He never talked about gambling."

"Betting? Horses? Maybe a sports team?"

"No."

Will shoved aside his frustration. He remembered the letter Nathan had shown him, the one from Pembry. "What about someone named Dr. Awkward? You ever meet anyone by that name?"

"Dr. Awkward? It sounds like a nickname."

"Could be. He ever mention a doctor to you at all? Maybe a business acquaintance?"

She paused a moment, gazing out at the field. "We didn't spend much time talking."

Right. He'd had that coming, but it still felt like a kick in the gut. "What about his cases?"

"He might have mentioned stuff in passing, but nothing I remember."

"Okay. How about real estate deals? Eve Caldwell worked for the biggest real estate agency in town, so-"

"Look, I don't know anything about his business." She crossed her arms. "I was his girlfriend, not his wife. Why don't you ask her all these questions?"

Her look was icy, and he realized the reference to Alvin's other mistress might have been a little callous. "I'm just trying to put the facts together. I thought you could help."

She scoffed. "You know, if you wanted to interrogate me, why didn't you just drive me straight down to the police station? You didn't have to waste your time bringing me to a ball game."

"I'm not interrogating you. I just wanted to ask-"

"Forget it." She turned around. "Let's go, okay? I've had enough baseball for one night."

Courtney lay on her sister's sofa, trying to ignore the low creaking sounds coming from across the house. They were trying to be quiet. She knew that. More than once, she'd heard Fiona shush him, but still, it was an antique wrought-iron bed, and the house was tiny.

Music. That would help. Courtney grabbed her backpack off the floor and rummaged through it. The interior of the bag suddenly lit up as the first few beats of "Hollaback Girl" sounded from her phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi." It was Will. "Did I wake you?"

"Unfortunately, no."

The other end was silent as he deciphered this. She tossed off the blanket and walked to the other side of the living room, away from the bedroom.

"Where are you?" she asked.

"Driving home from the station."

So, he'd gone back into work following the baseball game. What had he done, transcribed their conversation? Entered an audiotape into evidence? Her temper started to fester.

"I called to tell you I'm sorry," he said. "For earlier. I didn't just invite you out to interview you-"

"Yes, you did."

Pause. "Okay, I did. But I feel bad about it, and I want to apologize."

She bit her lip. If there was anything that got to her about this man, it was his earnestness.