Hex on the Ex by Rochelle Staab Page A

Jarret doesn’t want me to talk about what happened in public. Nosey eyes and ears.”
    He opened the door for me and we walked out to the parking lot. Tall palm trees, motionless in the blistering late afternoon heat, bordered the sidewalk between the small parking lot and Ventura Boulevard. The asphalt cooked under the westward-bound sun. We got into my car and I turned on the ignition, letting the engine idle while the air conditioner cooled the interior.
    Kyle fiddled with the vent blowing air in his face. “I talked to Jarrret about an hour ago. He’s staying at theSportsmen’s Lodge until the cops let him back into his house. I’ll tell you, Liz, he’s freaked.”
    “I bet he is. What happened last night? How did Laycee end up at Jarret’s house? I thought she was with you.”
    “Yeah, well, that’s Laycee. She’s with who she’s with until she’s with the next guy. She threw herself all over Billy Miles up in the suite at the game.” Kyle snorted with disapproval. “I had to tell her to give Billy some space. That ticked her off. She was drinking heavy and kept on drinking after we met Jarret at Fifth Base.”
    “How was he?” I asked.
    “After his pitching disaster? Can’t you guess? Pathetic. Bitched and moaned about tripping on the foul line. Blamed the pigeon. Carped about being hexed. You know how damned superstitious he is.”
    I nodded. Jarret relied on his game day beliefs for a control mechanism to soothe his nerves and ease performance pressure on the mound.
    “Laycee took Jarret’s crappy mood as a challenge and started hitting on him right off. He knocked back the booze pretty hard. So did she. I guess when I went to the bar to order another round they made a plan to hook up. I knew by the way she cooed at him for the rest of the night. Didn’t bother me.” Kyle smirked. “I got up at four yesterday to open the gym. I just wanted to go home and get some sleep. She wanted to stay. She asked Jarret to drive her back to the hotel.”
    I held back from asking Kyle why, if he went home so early, he didn’t open the gym this morning. His feigned nonchalance didn’t mask the biting edge to his voice. Kyle took a backseat to Jarret’s fame since the beginning oftheir friendship. I often suspected that Kyle goaded Jarret into reckless behavior to knock him down a notch. Last night, Jarret wound up taking Kyle’s “date” home.
    “So you left them at the bar?” I said.
    “Yeah. It probably was Jarret’s idea to go up to his house after Fifth Base closed. He wouldn’t go with her to her hotel. She was staying down the block at the Sportsmen’s Lodge. He was too careful to be seen out with a married woman.”
    I flinched at Kyle’s casual remark about Jarret’s amorous cautions, a subject I didn’t care to explore especially if those habits dated back to our marriage. “Did you see anyone you knew at Fifth Base?”
    “Nah. The rest of the team went home after the loss. Why do you care about Jarret? You were too good for him, you know. You aren’t like the rest of the women who hang around ballplayers.” Kyle touched my bare knee, stroking his finger toward my thigh.
    The jerk was making a move on me? Payback? Revenge? I moved his hand away, put my foot on the brake, and shifted the car into reverse. “I need to leave. I have an appointment to get to. Thanks for filling me in.”
    Kyle shrugged off my rejection and opened the car door. Before he got out he said, “Jarret is keeping his cell turned off. If you call the hotel, ask for Bruce Sutter.”
    I regretted engaging Kyle just to appease my curiosity. If I hadn’t gone to Jarret’s house this morning or Eagleton hadn’t called in Nick, I wouldn’t care what Kyle, Jarret, or Laycee did last night. Unless—was I still more connected to Jarret than I realized? I made a right turn out of the parking lot into the rush-hour traffic inching along Ventura Boulevard.
    Tapping my fingers on the steering wheel, I replayed