Chapter 2
Chapter 2: PART 2 - The Superstar Tried to Humiliate a Black Ball Boy in Front of Thousands
PART 2: Six Blue Dots and One Terrified Witness
Tom Vickers opened his mouth, but Cole Maddox spoke before a single word escaped.
"Those are bullpen balls, Dana."
Dana continued examining the blue mark.
"Then Tom can explain why they're marked."
Cole gave an irritated laugh.
"You're seriously turning a kid's tantrum into an investigation?"
I stood beside Luis, still feeling the sticky residue hardening against my fingertips.
For the first time, I noticed the cameras aimed toward us instead of Cole's smiling teammates.
The cheering had stopped.
Thousands of people were waiting for an explanation.
Dana ordered the bucket removed from the mound and instructed the stadium staff to preserve every baseball inside.
Cole stepped into her path.
"You don't have the authority to embarrass me like this."
Dana's expression remained calm.
"I have the authority to preserve potential evidence and notify the league."
Cole glanced toward the crowd.
"You know what this looks like?"
"Yes."
Her answer made him hesitate.
"It looks like a pitcher trying to take a baseball away from a fourteen-year-old witness."
Luis lowered his eyes, but I caught the smallest movement at the corner of his mouth.
Cole did not find it amusing.
He turned toward me.
"You understand you're going to lose your job over this?"
I stared at the grass.
My mother needed the money.
The thought of telling her I had been fired frightened me more than the angry man standing before me.
Dana stepped between us.
"Malik isn't being disciplined for preserving evidence."
Cole pointed at my uniform.
"He's an employee of this organization, and employees follow instructions."
"Not when those instructions interfere with an investigation."
I had never heard anyone speak to Cole that way.
He seemed almost stunned by it.
Dana then asked me to explain what I had noticed.
I told her about the unusual tackiness, the black residue, and the locker I had cleaned after the game.
Tom suddenly raised his head.
"What locker?"
I turned toward him.
"Cole's locker."
"I didn't assign you to clean his locker."
The words struck harder than Cole's insults.
I stared at Tom.
"You told me to do it last night."
Tom shook his head.
"You're confused."
"I spent twenty minutes scraping black stuff off the shelves."
"Then you must have gone inside without permission."
My chest tightened.
He was lying.
And he was trying to make me the person responsible for something I had been ordered to do.
Cole folded his arms.
"There you go, Dana."
Luis looked at Tom.
"You really want to say that?"
Tom would not answer.
Dana asked the stadium supervisor to retrieve the previous night's equipment assignments and security records.
Cole objected immediately.
"This is ridiculous."
Dana ignored him.
She asked Luis to accompany me into the dugout while the marked baseballs were secured.
As we walked away, I heard Cole speaking urgently to Tom.
I couldn't make out the words.
But Tom's frightened expression told me the conversation was not friendly.
Inside the dugout, Luis handed me a clean towel.
I started wiping my fingers.
"Wait," he said.
He pointed toward the remaining black streak beneath my thumbnail.
"Dana needs a photograph before you wash that off."
I stared at my hand.
I had never imagined that something so small could matter so much.
Luis sat beside me.
"You play baseball?"
"I used to."
"What happened?"
"They canceled our school program."
He nodded toward the field.
"You looked comfortable holding that ball."
I gave a weak laugh.
"I didn't feel comfortable."
"That wasn't what I meant."
Before I could answer, Dana returned and photographed my fingers.
She then asked me to describe everything I remembered from the locker.
I told her about the wooden shelves, the metal case, and Tom's explanation about bat grip.
She wrote down every detail.
When I mentioned that Cole had no bats in his locker, she briefly stopped writing.
"You're certain Tom called it bat grip?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Did you see Cole handling the material?"
"No."
She nodded.
"Good, Malik."
I looked at her uncertainly.
"Good?"
"You're telling me what you actually saw instead of what you think happened."
Her words made me feel slightly less afraid.
Then my phone began vibrating.
It was my mother.
I answered with shaking fingers.
"Malik, why am I seeing you on the news?"
I closed my eyes.
Someone had already posted the confrontation online.
She sounded terrified.
"Are you hurt?"
"No, Mom."
"Did that man put his hands on you?"
"He tried."
She went silent.
I could hear supermarket noise behind her.
"Stay with an adult you trust, baby."
I glanced toward Dana.
"I am."
"I'm coming."
Before I could protest, she ended the call.
A few minutes later, Dana's assistant brought the equipment assignment sheet.
My name appeared beside a late-night cleaning task.
The location was listed as the private home-clubhouse locker section.
The assignment carried Tom Vickers's initials.
Dana placed the paper in front of him when he returned.
"Is this your handwriting?"
Tom looked defeated.
"Yes."
"Then why did you say Malik entered without permission?"
Tom rubbed his forehead.
"I forgot."
I almost laughed.
He had remembered enough to accuse me, but not enough to tell the truth.
Dana did not challenge him immediately.
Instead, she placed photographs of the six marked baseballs on the table.
"Tell me about the blue dots."
Tom looked toward the doorway.
Cole was standing outside with his arms crossed.
Luis noticed and quietly closed the door.
Tom's shoulders sagged.
"We used them to separate certain baseballs."
"Separate them for what?"
"Grip preparation."
Dana leaned forward.
"What kind of preparation?"
Tom's eyes filled with panic.
"Extra tack."
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Dana asked the question I had been waiting to hear.
"Who requested that preparation?"
Tom stared at the table.
I could see his lips trembling.
Finally, he whispered a name.
"Cole."
Dana wrote something down.
"Was this the first time?"
Tom shook his head.
"No."
My heart began pounding.
Dana asked whether any specially prepared baseballs had been handled before the record-breaking game.
Tom looked toward the closed door.
Then he lowered his voice.
"Those six balls weren't prepared for today's practice."
Dana went completely still.
May you like
Tom swallowed hard.
"They were prepared before yesterday's game, and Cole told me exactly where to put them."
