Free The Closer by Alan Mindell

outskirts of his own neighborhood. He even passed the exact place where he'd discovered Murdoch being attacked by the four thugs that night when the police became involved.
    There had been no more news about Murdoch's car. Actually, he and Murdoch hadn't even spoken since the incident. Which made it all the more improbable—no, impossible—that Murdoch should drive by now, spot him walking and stop. Yet, that's exactly what happened.
    "Get in," Murdoch instructed after opening his passenger door.
    This was the second time that night that Terry had heard these words and he was much slower to react now. In fact, he glanced up and down the street, first looking for teammates and then for characters possibly following Murdoch. Seeing no one, he got into the front seat, and quickly noticed beside him a couple of items that looked like a fake beard and an orange hairpiece.
    "So they found your car," he commented as Murdoch drove off.
    â€œ`Fraid so,” Murdoch replied gruffly.
    Terry was confused by Murdoch's response, since his car seemed both luxurious and in perfect condition.
    "This is a rental," Murdoch addressed Terry's confusion. "Mine was completely stripped. Worthless."
    "Oh...they get the guys?"
    "Yep."
    "Going to press charges?" Terry asked, a little anxiously.
    "Nope."
    "Why not?"
    "Media'd crucify me."
    Terry didn't reply.
    "Anyway, those guys'd prob'ly press charges against me," Murdoch added. "Stealing their car."
    "You didn't steal it. I did."
    "Things have a way getting turned around. Next thing you know, I'm the one in court."
    Murdoch had driven into the parking lot beneath the same apartment complex Rick lived in. Evidently Murdoch lived here too. Evidently, he didn't know Terry didn't. By then, because of his long walk and lateness of the hour, Terry was too tired to tell him.
    Instead, he merely got out of the car, told Murdoch good night and managed the block or so back to his bungalow.
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    Before the homestand ended, Terry came to a decision. It was time he made arrangements for a car. Not a purchase, but a rental, as Murdoch had done. He went to an agency at the Oakland airport and selected a blue sedan. Though definitely nothing extravagant, much better than subways and buses.
    His plan worked perfectly. He had use of the car for a couple of days (he took it to a museum and did some local sightseeing), then dropped it at the airport as the next road trip began, and made a reservation to pick it up again when the team returned to Oakland for the following homestand.
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    "Brass isn't happy," Rick Gonzalez told Terry, the two of them sitting in a little office outside the visitors' locker room at Tampa Bay Stadium.
    "About what?" Terry asked, instantly defensive at Rick's tone.
    "About some scrape you and Murdoch got in late one night."
    Now alarmed, Terry didn't reply.
    "They don't think there'll be any legal action," Rick said.
    "Then what’s the problem?"
    "PR.... Something they don't take lightly."
    Rick then asked him more about the incident, which apparently had come to the attention of management either via the police or the media. Providing as little detail as possible, Terry told him what happened. How he had discovered Murdoch being attacked. How he'd driven off in the assailants' car.
    "Quick thinking," Rick commented.
    "Felt more like reflex."
    "It worked."
    Terry simply shrugged.
    "It's pretty common knowledge," Rick continued, "that Murdoch goes out late every night."
    "No crime in that, is there?"
    "Depends on what he's doing...any idea what he's doing?"
    "None."
    "Brass is very sensitive...they..."
    But Rick was interrupted by a knock at the door. It was Clayton, Oakland's hitting coach, who stuck his head into the office to inform them the team was due on the field in five minutes for that night's pregame warm-ups. Then Clayton left.
    "Heard Murdoch hits some pretty raunchy neighborhoods," Rick started up again. "Like he's in some kind of trouble. Or looking for