Page 9 of Hard to Lose

“Come to think of it, I didn’t see you present anything proving you are who you say you are.”

“Oh. Yes.” I’m flustered—when I’m never flustered—as I reach into my purse and produce a business card. He takes it and stares at it for a beat. “You can call the number to verify I am who I say I am.”

He turns the card over and over in his hand. It appears he’s grappling with something unbeknownst to me. “Why do you want to find Ryan?”

“I don’t have a direct answer for you on that,” I fib. “But something is telling me I need to follow up with him.”

When Coach Bassett looks up to meet my eyes, his lips are pursed and his stare’s relentless. “So let me guess, you’re looking to recruit a ‘war hero’ and gain media attention for yourself in the meantime? The spotlight’s that irresistible? You agents are all the same. Every time I think it’d be different, one of you go and prove me wrong.”

“Excuse me?”

He emits a short laugh. “I know I’m not a big-shot agent or anything, but I’m astute enough to know you’re not telling me the whole story. Five, six years ago everyone wanted something from him but damn, it’s amazing how quick they forgot about him once they got what they wanted.”

My head spins with the information he’s providing but isn’t clarifying. He’s adding pieces to a puzzle I don’t even know the picture of to solve.

“I’m sorry, but again, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“And yet, you’re still looking for him?” Sarcasm laces his tone and I shake my head ever so slightly as I try to understand.

“I’m not sure how I’ve offended you, Coach, but I’m simply looking for Mr. Camden. His letter came five years too late. For some reason, it arrived on my desk, and I can’t let go of the feeling that I need to find him, even if he’s in his mid- to late twenties now. My father was interested, and I guess, I want Mr. Camden to know that. That he was . . . noticed.”

“So you’re going through all this trouble to throw it in his face and let him know he had his chance and oops, now he doesn’t? Sounds kind of cruel to me.”

He has a point, and I hate that I’m suddenly doubting why I’m here.

“What’s it to you?” I ask, getting frustrated. “Are you his keeper? Isn’t it up to him if he talks to me or doesn’t?”

Coach Bassett nods slowly. “It is.”

“And who’s to say that he still doesn’t have a chance? Stranger things have happened—unless, of course, you know something different about him.”

“Can’t say that I do,” he says.

“If you respect him as much as it sounds like you do, then isn’t it up to him who he talks to? Besides, why are you so protective of him if he no longer even lives in this town?” My question is a fishing expedition, and I’m hoping Coach Bassett won’t shut me down.

“Because the kid was given the shit end of a stick most of his life. The most he had going for him was baseball. He may have been rebellious, had a bit of an attitude, but when it came to pitching, that was the one thing he could focus on. The kid was gifted—so much so that I’ve yet to see another one like him in the past six years.”

“That’s why you reached out to recruiters,” I say, more than surprised that he’s giving me so much information when he was so guarded moments before.

But I’ll take it. I’ll take anything I can get to help me find Ryan.

He nods. “I wanted to help the kid but was in no position to interfere in his family dynamic. Regardless, I was surprised there weren’t teams lined up looking at him. Then again, this is a small town and rumors go far—especially when you’re a scout who prefers to steer clear from what you perceive to be trouble.”

“And yet you still tried.”

“Ryan had good in him. He just needed to know someone saw it.” Coach looks out to the empty baseball field for a moment before looking back at me. “He left here and never came back.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“I haven’t talked to him in a few years at best. Rumor is he’s in Destiny Falls.”

“Where’s that?” I ask.

“Some Podunk town outside of Virginia Beach.”

“Is he still enlisted?” I ask.

“Not that I know of.”