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back, and…" I trailed off seductively.
    A full-fledged grin took hold of his
features. "Now that might make me feel a lot better."
     
    * * *
     
    Ramirez was up before the sun again,
muttering about doing some "damage control" in a sleep-filled voice
as he rolled out of bed. I vaguely registered the shower turning
on, smelled fresh aftershave and coffee, then heard the front door
slam shut. I rolled over and went back to sleep until Max let out a
cry over the baby monitor.
    Two bottles, one shower, and three diaper
changes later, I was in my kitchen contemplating my breakfast
options when Dana walked in, a Starbucks cup in each hand.
    "Location shoots are ridiculous. You know
how much easier it would have been to pop a poster of the Golden
Gate behind me and shoot here in L.A. than trying to wait for the
sun to peek through the frickin' permanent fog layer at the actual
Golden Gate?"
    "Hi," I said. "Good to see you."
    "It would have been so much easier," she
continued, answering her own question. "I swear they were just
looking for excuses to blow their budget." She paused and handed me
a cup. "Hi. Good to see you too."
    I grinned, taking a sip. Mocha latte with
extra whip. She knew me so well.
    "So the shoot was a total bust?" I
asked.
    Dana shook her head, downing her own drink.
"No, we got the shots. I just nearly got pneumonia in the process.
I mean, it's spring for heaven's sake. Doesn't San Francisco know
that?"
    "Maybe it didn't get the memo?"
    She shot me a look that said it was too soon
for levity about her ordeal. "Anyway, I'm so glad to be home.
And…you owe me some deets. How did the interrogation go yesterday?"
she asked, taking another long sip from her cup. Filled with a
non-fat, soy, decaf latte, if I knew her as well as she knew
me.
    I groaned. "Worse than your shoot," I said,
filling her in on all of the gory details, including my husband
decking a sports celebrity.
    "Ouch," she said when I was done. "Sounds
like that lead is a dead end now."
    I nodded. "No kidding. I feel terrible."
    She took another sip. "Hey, it's not like you punched the guy."
    I nodded. "I know. But I didn't help the
situation any. And now Ratski is about as hostile a witness as they
come. I think the words 'sue' and 'your ass' were even shouted as
the bouncers dragged Ramirez off of him."
    "Sucks," Dana agreed. She paused to sip.
"Well, maybe we can help him get the dirt on Bucky another
way."
    While part of me was pretty sure I'd helped my husband enough already, there was a teeny tiny
part of me that perked up at the idea of making it up to him.
    "What did you have in mind?"
    "Well, Ramirez said there were rumors that
Lacey and Bucky were having problems. I happen to know where all
good baseball rumors start."
    "I'll bite. Where?" I asked
    " Baseball Wives !"
    I cocked my head to the side. "Right. The
show is gossip central. And…?"
    "And maybe we can get the 411 on the rocky
relationship for Ramirez. The show airs on the same network as Lady Justice , and I did a promotional spot with some of the
ladies in the cast a couple of months ago." Dana pulled out her
cell and started scrolling through her contacts. "I think I still
have Kendra's number."
    "That would be Kendra Blanco?" I asked,
recalling from the show a tall blonde with a serious shopping
addiction.
    Dana nodded. "Her husband is Gabriel Blanco.
The pitcher. Ah! Got it." She held up her phone, displaying a local
number.
    "You think Kendra can help?" I asked.
    Dana shrugged. "It's worth a try. If the
couple was having issues, maybe Bucky talked to Kendra's husband or
one of the other players. Kendra is in the know for anything that
happens on that team."
    "I don't know…" I hedged.
    "Come on, Maddie. You know you want to help.
Besides, you really think that Kendra, or anyone associated with
that team, is going to gossip to a cop the way she would over a
mimosa with us at lunch?" Dana reasoned.
    She had a good point. "I could really use a
mimosa," I agreed.
     
    * *