KEEPING THE RECORD
Stark Raving Group LLC – Publishers
P.O. Box 1451
Beverly Hills, CA 90213
Copyright © 2014 TRAVIS RICHARDSON
First Stark Raving Group edition 2014
Cover Design and Illustration: Anthony Washington
ISBN (ePub): 978-1-63052-001-4
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission from the publisher, except by reviewers who may quote brief excerpts in connection with a review in a newspaper, magazine or electronic publication; nor may any part of this book be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording , or other, without written permission from the publisher.
All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Electronically printed in the United States of America
Distributed by Consortium Book Sales and Distribution and Bookxy
DEDICATION
To Major League Baseball players who have never taken performance enhancing drugs.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I would like to thank the following people who helped make this book happen.
First and foremost is the legendary and prolific pulp scribe, Gary Phillips. Gary has been a supporter of my writing career ever since I moved to Southern California and a good friend. A few years ago, I mentioned a crazy idea about a steroids altered player crossing the country to keep his home run record, and he loved it. Thank you for having faith in me, Gary, it has meant a lot.
I also want to thank Jeffrey Weber for creating and assembling the Stark Raving Group and making this gonzo project (and many others) a reality. The logo artwork by Ralph Steadman set the tone, and I’m happy Jeff let me tell this story. I’m looking forward to great things to come from Stark Raving.
Thank you to Stephen Buehler and Sarah Chen, a pair of writers on the verge of something big, who share the same foxhole with me every Thursday night and helped beat Roy into shape. Thanks to Sachin Mehta for giving the story a solid read-through in a short timeframe. A tremendous thank you goes to my wife, Teresa, for not only saying “I do,” but for catching all those words and phrases that did not work, as well as supporting my goals as writer.
Finally, I want to thank the crime writing community at large. Almost everybody I’ve met in this genre over the past few years, whether through conferences, signings, organizations, or online, has been supportive and encouraging. Writing is a daunting road to travel, but having compatriots makes the journey much better.
Travis
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25 | Chapter 26 | Chapter 27 | Chapter 28 | Chapter 29 | Chapter 30 | Chapter 31 | Chapter 32 | Chapter 33
Chapter 1
Day 1: Richmond, CA
It was already a miserable day when Roy got the call. It was like the world had gone crazy all around him. The stoners in the apartment next to his living room had their stereo pumping, the eight children that lived above him had been doing jumping jacks for the past hour, and the passionate couple on the bedroom side were having one of their nasty, drawn out shouting matches that was so loud he barely heard the phone.
Roy reached for the handset but hesitated. Who could it be? If only he hadn’t smashed his answering machine the other day. They make them so cheap and fragile these days. Once upon a time, he had people answering phones for him. Hell, the telephone company offered him millions to endorse them. And he had turned them down, laughing at their offer. But now, he’d put his smiling mug next to any product for a thousand bucks. Maybe even five hundred, but they’d have to negotiate a few things. Was it another creditor on the line, or was it an opportunity from somebody who didn’t hate him… yet? He grabbed the phone.
“Hello,” Roy said in a high-pitched squeak.
“Hello ma’am, could I please speak to Mr. Roy Brands,” a young man on the line asked.
Roy cringed. People always said ma’am when they heard his voice. At least it gave him cover. “Where’d you get this number?”
“It took a lot of research, but I think I finally found it. Could you please confirm this is the number for Mr. Roy B. Brands, miss?”
“What is this about?” He was sure it was a creditor, although the kid was nicer than they usually were.
“Is this the right number?”
“Tell me what you’re calling about, and I’ll tell you if this is the right number.”
“I’m calling with the United Sports Press, and we want a comment from Mr. Brands regarding Jose Morales and whether he thinks he’ll break his single season home run record.”
“Say what?”
“Jose is only four home runs away from breaking Mr. Brands’ record, and there’s still three and a half weeks left in the season.”
Roy felt like the earth was opening up from under him and swallowing him whole. “Who