But that was all she could get out of him. Frustrated, she went to the Heat facilities, where she had a scheduled meeting with Sam for the charity event she’d agreed to help with. They consumed a bag of cookies while they planned the annual poker night, laying out the floor plan, how they’d place a different Heat player at each poker table, the food, etc. And though Holly wanted to, though she had plenty of opportunity, she didn’t tell Sam about the packet she’d found.

On the way out, she ran smack into Red. “Have you been to see Pace?” he asked.

“Yes. Earlier.”

His mouth tightened. “Distracting him from his recovery?”

“No, I’m distracting him from his pain.” She instantly wished back the words, especially when he started coughing. And coughing. “Red? You okay?”

“Inhaler,” he gasped.

But that didn’t work, so she ended up driving him to the ER and the entire time all she could do was picture Pace’s face when she called to tell him she’d nearly killed his pitching coach.

But after a round of oxygen and some meds, Red was fine. Holly tried to take him home, but he refused to go, insisting on being dropped back off at the stadium, where he was meeting Ty for a pitching practice. “Damn stubborn men,” she muttered, pulling back into the Heat’s parking lot. “All of you.”

“That’s right, missy. We are.” As he got out of her car, he reached into her backseat for his bag and she went utterly still, frozen in shock as she watched him walk away carrying the same torn-in-the-corner bag Tucker had left that night at Pace’s.

She threw her car into park, turned off the engine, and followed him into the stadium and then to the bullpen, where Red had met up with Ty.

When she’d seen Tucker at the burger joint, she’d gotten the feeling he was protecting someone. What she’d never even imagined to think was that the person he might be protecting was his own father.

Red saw her approach, sighed, then gestured to Ty to keep throwing as he sauntered over to Holly. “What now? You not done trying to kill me?”

“Are you doling out stimulants to your players?”

He narrowed his eyes. “What the hell are you mumbling about?”

Ty stopped throwing and ambled up. “What’s up?”

Holly was done tiptoeing. “I was just asking Red about the natural stimulants Tucker supplies him with, and who he’s given them to.”

Ty’s eyes slid to Red.

“This is a private practice,” Red said, and turning his back, he walked off.

But Ty didn’t. He didn’t move.

“I know the players on this team,” he told her quietly. “Inside and out. I want you to know that none of them are using. Not a single one.”

Very carefully worded, she noted. “And how about you?”