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in their direction.”

“Which is why this didn’t make much sense,” Logan said, taking the report from Kittrell’s hands and flipping a few pages. He pointed at a section of the report that showed who the van was registered to.

Kittrell whistled as he shook his head. “Now that’ll blow your mind.”

Quinn leaned over his shoulder again and glanced at the report. “Looks like I know who we’re going to see tomorrow morning.”

“What about right now?” Kittrell said.

“We’ve got almost two days. Besides, I’ve got a date with Misty Morton tonight.”

Kittrell shook his head and snickered. “The gal in forensics?”

Quinn nodded.

“Whatever, man. Enjoy yourself tonight because we’re going to hit it hard tomorrow.”

Kittrell watched Quinn stride down the hallway. Holding the paper up again, he re-read the name. He was tempted to go without Quinn but decided against it.

Kittrell was already looking forward to the interview—and dreading it at the same time. No matter what, it was guaranteed to be interesting.

CHAPTER 14

MATT NORFOLK SAT BEHIND the glass in the Seattle FC production studio, re-reading his lines for the promotional spot set to air during the game. He loathed the endless favors the marketing department requested from him. It seemed like every campaign required his assistance. If he was honest with himself, he shouldn’t have been surprised. As one of the team’s emerging stars—and youngest players, too—he was definitely being positioned as the face of the franchise. Less than a week ago, it had been Sid Westin. But even before he passed away, Norfolk could tell he was being groomed to take over. Now that Sid was gone, it was obvious what the team’s plan was all along.

“From the top,” Joey Allman said from the other side of the glass. “We just need a little more expression from you this time. Think you can handle it?”

Norfolk nodded and read his lines again, this time drawing praise from Allman.

“Perfect! You nailed it!” Allman said. “Get on outta here so you’re not late for practice.”

Norfolk tossed the script in the air and hustled out of the studio and down the hall toward the locker room.

He was greeted by high fives from the team’s starters, who were almost ready to hit the field. Still wearing his sweat pants and sweat shirt, Norfolk quickly changed into his practice gear. He tugged his laces tight before tying a double knot.

“Don’t tie them too tight,” Javier Martinez quipped as he stopped by Norfolk’s locker. “We don’t need those two golden feet of yours being amputated due to lack of circulation.”

Norfolk looked up at Martinez and winked. “These golden feet are going to dance right past you today out there. You better be ready.”

“I’m counting on it,” Martinez said before exiting the locker room and entering the field.

Norfolk took a deep breath and tried to enjoy the moment. This is what he’d worked hard for his whole life. Well, almost.

When he was younger, he wanted to play for Manchester United in the English Premier League, but that was a pipe dream even among the world’s most elite soccer players. Though Manchester United was no longer the top tier team in England, it was still a team most players aspired to play for at some point in their careers. Norfolk made peace years ago that it wasn’t likely to happen. It was what helped him enjoy the moment—his moment—the one that had him leading Seattle FC to the top of the league standings in Major League Soccer.

He’d worked hard to reach this point in his career where he’d emerged as the team’s top goal scorer and face of the franchise. He was done taking lip from anyone. This was his team now, and he was ready to lead them to a title.

Norfolk glanced at himself in the mirror one more time before running onto the field. However, he didn’t make it out of the tunnel before Tim Peterson slid in front of him.

“What are you doing?” Norfolk asked. “Get outta my way.”

“We need to talk,” Peterson said.

“About what?”

“Everybody on this team is getting pretty sick and tired of you acting like your stuff doesn’t stink,” Peterson began. “We’re all out here working our tails off to make this team better—not just you. And the guys would appreciate it if you’d be a little more gracious in your postgame interviews.”

“You’re crazy, man.” Norfolk tried to walk past Peterson, but Norfolk blocked his way.

“No, I’m not. The team sent me to talk to you today. We’re all sick of it. This isn’t your team. This is our team. And we’d appreciate the common courtesy of extending some recognition to us.”

“I never hog the limelight.”

“That’s not what it sounded like on Monday. To the uninitiated, it sounded like you’re the sole reason this team is in first place—and like Sid’s death didn’t mean much of anything.”

“That’s a horrible interpretation of what I said.”

Peterson shrugged. “Maybe, but that’s how it came across. And we want it to stop.”

Norfolk rolled his eyes and shoulder-checked Peterson, pushing his way past..

“Not cool, man.”

“How’s this for not cool?” Norfolk said as he spun around and punched Peterson in the face.

Peterson staggered around for a moment before crashing to the ground, holding his head just seconds after Norfolk hit him.

“Now stop being a jerk and tell all your jealous pals to get over it. And if they’ve got a problem, they can come see me directly,” Norfolk barked over Peterson.

Norfolk turned and jogged out of the tunnel toward the field. He never even saw the reporter from the local radio station standing a few feet away and capturing the entire exchange on his phone.

CHAPTER 15

KITTRELL SHOVED A COFFEE CUP into Quinn’s hands before he made it to his desk. “Don’t even sit down. You know where we’re headed.”

Quinn smiled and thanked Kittrell for the coffee before taking a sip.

“I take it your date went well last night,” Kittrell said as he pushed open the glass doors and exited

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