CHAPTER ONE

"Bye, coach! See you tomorrow," said Warren.

"See you tomorrow," he smiled, waving at the kids. They were the light and joy in his world. At sixty-eight years old, he wasn't exactly a spring chicken. But the children made him feel invincible most days.

He'd played college and semi-pro baseball before tearing his rotator cuff.

Fifteen years ago, he noticed that the kids were wandering around the neighborhoods aimlessly. They weren't in scouting, they weren't in sports, and they were getting in trouble. So, he went to their small community council and asked to start a youth sports league. With his own money.

Now, they had football, baseball, and soccer for ages five to fifteen. Hundreds of kids were being influenced by his gentleness and kindness, and he couldn't have been happier about it all.

He watched as the kids got on their bikes, ready to ride home. The park was close to where they all lived, and he liked to be sure they were headed in the right direction before turning off any park lights. With fall hanging over them, it was darker earlier, and he did everything he could to get the kids home before darkness enveloped the streets.

He placed the last of the bats and balls into the storage locker and turned off the lights on the field. There were still two large security lights behind home plate.

Just as he was about to head to his car, he heard shuffling behind him.

"Hello? Is someone there?" he asked. He'd never had any issues with vandalism or theft, but he wasn't about to let that happen now. Listening intently, he thought he heard the sounds of someone crying.

"Is someone there? I won't hurt you," he said, staying in the light. Slowly, a young woman walked toward him. Her face was bloodied, her body beaten. All but her bra was torn from her. "Oh, my God."

"H-help me," she whispered, struggling to get to him. He lifted his hands in an effort to assure her that he wouldn't harm her.

Reaching for his phone, he called 911 and explained that there had been a woman beaten and attacked, and she was at the ballfields.

"Hold on, honey. I've got someone coming to help."

"T-too late," she whispered as he held her. He realized she was bleeding everywhere. His hands were soaked with her blood, the crimson liquid penetrating his clothing.

"No. No, it's not too late, honey. Just hold on."

"S-sorry."

"Sorry? What are you…" It was the last thing he remembered as a bat slammed into the back of his head.

"You should have stuck to baseball, old man."

Sterling woke with a killer headache. The lights above him were blinding and causing more pain than they should have. He knew he wasn't drunk. He didn't drink. He tried to bring his hand to his face, and it wouldn't move.

"No sense in doing that. You're secured," said the male voice.

"Secured? Wh-where am I?" he asked.

"You're in a hospital, but you're under arrest for the murder of Tracy Bingham."

"I don't know a Tracy Bingham," he said, shaking his head slowly.

"So, you kill women you don't know," shrugged the cop. "Lots of people kill people they don't know."

"I didn't kill anyone," he said. "The young woman. She walked toward me as I was closing the park. She was already beaten and bleeding."

"You got that right, you sick bastard. Her blood was all over you."

"Because I held her while she was crying for help. I called 911!"

"Tell it to the judge."

"There's no practice today, Harry," said his father.

"But why? Sterling was gonna help me with grounders," he said, pouting. He looked outside to see the sun shining. It was windy, but that didn't matter.

"Buddy, Sterling is in jail. They think he killed a woman." There was a knock on the door, and his father answered, seeing Harry's best friends, Warren and Edith.

"He didn't do it!" yelled Edith.

"Hold on, Edith. This isn't something that kids should get involved in."

"But, Mr. Willis, he didn't do it. We rode our bikes back to the park to ask Sterling a question. The lady was walking to him all bloody. We saw him call the police, and we saw him hold her."

"What else did you see?" he asked the children.

"We saw two men come through the gate behind him," said Harry. "He hit Sterling over the head with a bat."

"And you left? You didn't think to tell us?" asked his father.

"You and Mom weren't here when I got home. Heidi was with Samantha in her room and didn't want me to bother her. I just thought he would be okay. He's big and strong. Nothing hurts Sterling."

"We left ‘cause we heard the police coming," said Edith. "We thought everything would be okay."

"Alright, you three. Sit down. Let's hear this again."