Laura dashed headlong towards the spot where she and Nate had entered the field in the first place, putting her all into concentrating now. Above her, she could hear them clattering across the metal stands and didn’t need to look up. They were still on course for the far edge of the stands, the opening she had seen. She took one glance as she reached the corner, saw Milford almost reaching it, Nate falling behind. He must have tripped or stumbled getting over some of the seats, letting Milford take more of an advantage.
It had to be on her now.
Darting down the narrow opening between the two stands was the biggest risk of it all. Laura was cut off, unable to see either Milford or Nate now, only hoping that her theory had been correct, and she was about to emerge in the right place. She aimed for the place where the wall of the stands beside her stopped and the path opened up again, towards the entrance, running as fast as she could –
She was knocked to the ground as she went bodily into him, colliding just as Milford came to the bottom of the stairs and leaped outwards. He had been looking behind him, the only piece of information she managed to gather in the flash of seeing him before they hit one another. Laura rolled, saw him sprawled across the ground next to her and threw herself forward again, only for him to recover his senses enough to lunge out of the way at the same time.
Right into Nate, who was barreling down the stairs fast enough to leap for him.
“That's enough!” Nate shouted, pinning him to the ground successfully this time. Laura assessed herself quickly, checking for injuries. She had probably a go
od enough bruise developing on her right shoulder, but that was all in. She grabbed her handcuffs from her belt and used them to restrain Milford, allowing Nate to get up.
She looked over in time to see the young security guard, the one who had let them in, walking out a few paces from his post and staring at them wide-eyed. He blanched immediately, as if realizing that he had been caught leaving the place they had told him to stand watch and disappeared back towards the gate.
“I swear, it was just for me,” Milford said, his words coming out high with panic and strained as he turned his head against the ground. “I wasn't going to give them to anyone else. I'm not distributing, or anything like that. You have to believe me!”
Laura blinked.
“What are you talking about?” she asked.
“The drugs,” Milford said, as if it was obvious that was what they were all here to talk about.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Laura stepped back to allow Nate to haul Milford to his feet, setting him back down again at the foot of the metal stairs. Propped up like this in a sitting position, with his hands still cuffed behind his back, it was easier at least to talk to him.
“Okay,” Nate said. “Start talking. Now.”
“W-well,” Milford stuttered, looking between the two of them uncertainly. “I, I don't know, what...”
“Cat’s got your tongue now, has it?” Nate said, his words sharp and angry. “You've as much as admitted that you have drugs in your possession. I think you'd better start telling us everything.”
Milford nodded, his shoulders sagging in recognition of the fact that they had him dead to rights. If he had been smart, he would have kept quiet right from the beginning, instead of trying to clear his name and only incriminating himself even further. “Okay,” he said. “They’re in my pocket.”
Nate stepped forward, quickly patting both sides of Milford's hips until he found a pocket that rattled. He pulled out a small bottle of pills, unmarked except for a mysterious letter printed in large font right on the front.
“What are they?” Laura asked. They would probably have to run a full toxicology report on them at the lab in order to make any kind of arrest stick, but it would be better to hear it from him first. To know exactly what they were dealing with.
“I just...” Milford sighed. “I needed a bit of an edge, you know? Something to make me faster, stronger. I wanted to make it to the majors. One of the boys on the team has this supplier, he told me they can't be traced yet. They won't show up in any tests they make us do.”
Nate opened the bottle, shaking it a little and eyeing the pills suspiciously. He tipped one out into his hand, examining the markings on it closely. Then he barked out a laugh. “If this is what I think it is,” he said “you’ve been tricked. They absolutely are testing for these kinds of things now. You’d have been caught within five minutes of stepping anywhere near a major league team.”
“What are they?” Laura asked, frowning. “Side effects?”
Nate shook his head. “They’re not steroidal. No violence or aggression expected.”
She sighed, folding her arms across her chest. It would have been nice if they could chalk all this up to drug induced rage. It would have made a nice neat little court case, the kind of thing that a jury could sign off on pretty quickly. But, no. Apparently, they were going to have to work for it.
“Wait a second,” Milford said, looking between them with an owlish expression. “You didn't come here about the drugs?”
“They do, however, come with a nice serving of paranoia,” Nate commented dryly.
“No,” Laura said. “We didn't come here about the drugs. We came here to talk to you about your girlfriend.”
“Oh,” Milford said, dropping his head down to the ground again. “Veronica. Damnit. I’ve been so jumpy ever since all the cops and you guys came to the house, I thought you must have figured it out about the drugs. I thought that’s why you came here, instead of finding me at home.”
“No,” Laura said, finding it difficult not to start yelling at him for his selfishness. His girlfriend was dead, and he was worried about his drug habit? He was looking more and more suspicious in her eyes by the minute. Surely, only a psychopath would care this little about her. “Not Veronica. Stephanie.”