“What are you wear—” Duke bit his tongue. “Sorry. I know it’s early.”

The old man rubbed his eyes. “You fired me, remember? I’m going back to bed.”

“We have to deal with this shit that’s goin’ down. I need your help.”

“This is new. You asking me for anything. I texted you two nights ago.”

“Please.”

Willis sighed. “I’ll meet you downstairs. Make the coffee.”

“I paid for your first visit, but not the second, not yet.” Willis dropped three cubes of sugar into his mug and stirred with vigor. “I told that charlatan I’d get him the rest of his money after I talked to you—which I thought would be yesterday. You ignored my texts.”

“Yeah.” Duke was tired. If he was to be honest with himself, he was also scared. “Anyway, I think I’m going to have to see him again today, which means more money.”

His pops made a strange gurgling noise and set down the spoon. “First things first. Why do you have to go back?”

“Skip says I have to report to the stadium tomorrow. A team doctor will be there, and I’m supposed to show I have stamina on the mound. I have to prove I’m healed.”

“So? You told me you were. Why do you need this clinic guy again?” Willis’s eyebrows knitted together. “Are you about to do something stupid?”

“That’s why I wanted to talk to you! I don’t know what to do!” Duke felt the panic cresting, about to overwhelm him. He took a breath. “My ankle is not healed, alright? It was sore after the charity game, but then I tweaked it playing ball with some kids. I’m thinking I’m gonna have to let the doctor give me a shot of something, so I can make it through this thing tomorrow.”

“Son—” Willis cut himself off. “Maybe we do need to talk about the money now. It might have bearing on your choices.”

“Oh, Jesus.”

“You have no money, Duke. If you don’t play baseball this season, we will have nothing.”

Duke exploded. “Are you kidding me?”

“Okay, slow down. There’s more you need to know.”

Duke pounded on the table. “I have nothing? Nothing? How could you let this happen?”

“That’s what I need to tell you. But you have to calm down.”

“What’d ya do with my fucking money, old man?”

“It’s Regina. She has a video she recorded on her phone. At the bar in Chicago. Footage of you shooting Mark.”

The air left the room.

“I did not kill Mark.” Duke ground out each word.

“I’ve got your back, son, I do, but I saw the video.”

“I don’t know what you saw, but you’re wrong. If you think I could do this thing, you do not have my back.”