by Sarah Fox
I’d made it as far as the driveway leading up the hill to the Spirit Hill Brewery when I heard someone call my name. I paused, seeing Grayson coming down the driveway with his white German shepherd, Bowie, trotting at his side. Bowie broke into a loping run, bounding the rest of the way down the hill to see me. I set my bag on the ground and crouched down to ruffle the dog’s gorgeous coat and to receive a warm, sloppy kiss on my cheek in return.
“How are you doing, bud? Do you like the snow?”
“He loves it,” Grayson said as he reached us. He grinned as I straightened up and tried to retreat further into the depths of my coat. “More than you, I’m guessing.”
“I have mixed feelings,” I admitted. “It’s beautiful, even kind of magical, but I’m not so keen on the shoveling or the cold.”
“I hope you’ve got lots of layers on then. I hear your team’s got the rink booked for practice this morning.”
“That’s where I’m headed.” I picked up my bag, quickly checking to make sure it was zipped up tight. I didn’t want Grayson to see the jerseys I’d bought for my teammates. He’d see them eventually, of course, but I could picture the amusement that would show on his face, and I wanted to delay that moment for as long as possible.
“When’s your team practicing?” I asked, thinking maybe I could gather some intel by watching the brewery’s team before our game.
“We’ve been practicing twice a week for the past month. The next time we get on the ice is for tomorrow’s game.”
My stomach sank. “You’ve been practicing for a month?”
It was only when Grayson laughed that I realized I’d said that out loud. “Don’t worry. We won’t trounce you too badly.”
My eyes narrowed. “Trounce us? What makes you think we’ll be so easy to beat?”
“Maybe the fact that you just got your team together. And the fact that at least one of your teammates hasn’t played hockey before in her life.”
He knew about Cordelia?
“How did you hear about that?” I asked.
Humor lit up his blue eyes. “I have my sources,” he said for the second time that week. He stepped out into the road. “Come on, Bowie.” To me he added, “Have a good practice.”
“I will,” I said.
I let out a huff when I caught a glimpse of his infuriating grin before he turned away. I stormed along the road toward the park, hoping desperately that the Inkwell’s hockey team wouldn’t be as much of a disaster as I suspected it would be.
* * *
Despite heading for the rink with time to spare, I wasn’t the first to arrive. Mel and Damien were already there and had helped Bobby Dormer, the rink’s caretaker, clear the fresh snow off the ice. I was relieved to see that the park was otherwise empty. We didn’t need an audience if our practice got off to a rough start.
The rest of the team arrived over the next few minutes, with Joey showing up last. Teagan and Zoe helped me brush the snow off the benches at the edge of the rink so we’d have somewhere to sit and get ready. I had to take more than a cursory look at the twins to figure out who was who. They were identical and I probably wouldn’t have been able to tell them apart if not for the fact that Teagan had a broad streak of red through her dark blond hair and several more piercings in her ears than her sister did. Fortunately, her red streak wasn’t completely hidden by her hat.
It took some time for me and Cordelia to get into all our gear, unused to it all as we were. Eventually, however, we had our shoulder pads, elbow pads, shin guards, hockey pants, socks, and skates on. The two of us were still seated on the bench when Damien skated over our way.
“Figure skates?” he said skeptically when he looked at my feet. He was already on the ice.
“There’s no rule against wearing figure skates.” I realized I didn’t actually know if that was the case. “Is there?”
Damien shrugged and looked to Mel as she joined him on the ice.
“I don’t think so,” she said.
“I thought you said you’d played some recreational hockey.” Damien sounded like he was regretting the whole idea of entering the tournament.
“A few games of street hockey over the years,” I confessed.
Damien rolled his eyes heavenward.
“Don’t worry,” Mel told him. “She can skate.”
His expression implied that he wasn’t quite sure if he should believe that. “How about the jerseys?” he asked.
“Right,” I said with reluctance. “The jerseys.” I tried not to cringe as I pulled the first one out of my bag.
Everyone stared at the mustard yellow, maroon-trimmed sweater when I held it up. I didn’t think it was overly dramatic to describe the silence that fell around us as horrified.
Joey was the first to speak. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Unfortunately, no.” I pulled another one out of the bag and checked the size. I tossed it at Joey. “Last-minute team means last-minute uniforms.”
He made no move to put it on. “I don’t think you could’ve found uglier ones if you’d tried.”
“They aren’t that bad,” Cordelia said, sounding as if she was trying desperately to convince herself of the truth of her words.
Mel coughed into her hand. I strongly suspected she was covering up a laugh.
The twins weren’t so successful. They were practically shaking with silent laughter.
“The colors don’t matter,” Damien said. “It’s how we play as a team.”
“Exactly,” I agreed.
“We’ll be the laughingstock of the whole tournament,” Joey said.
I tossed two more sweaters at the still-laughing twins.
“Not if we win, we won’t.”
* * *
If I’d truly held some small spark of hope that we could win the hockey tournament, it got doused with icy cold water in the first few minutes of our practice.
Damien, Mel, and Joey zoomed around the ice with confidence, handling their sticks and the puck with ease. The twins could skate reasonably well—forward at least—but I knew anyone with any formal skating or hockey training would be able to outpace them easily. As for Cordelia . . .
She hadn’t lied when she’d said she could skate, because she could. Just . . . not very well. And we soon found out that she didn’t know how to stop.
“What do I do? What do I do?” she yelled frantically as she sailed toward a snowbank at the edge of the rink.
I opened my mouth to call out instructions to her, but it was too late. She plowed face-first into the snowbank.
I wasn’t used to skating with protective gear on me, but that didn’t slow me down. I was at her side in seconds. I grabbed one of her elbows while Damien took the other and we hauled her back to her feet.
“Are you okay?” I brushed snow off the cage protecting her face.
“I’m fine!” she said, as chipper as ever. “Sorry about that.”
When she was steady on her feet, we released our hold on her, but Damien shot me a look over her helmeted head. It clearly said, “What have you got us into?”
“Maybe you’d be more comfortable in goal,” I suggested to Cordelia.
“You mean have pucks shot at me?” She sounded terrified by the prospect.
She wobbled and her feet shot out from under her. She would have fallen if Damien and I hadn’t caught her.
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Damien said, once we’d set her on her feet again. “A goalie needs to be able to move from side to side and up and down easily.”
Cordelia nodded vigorously. “I’d be a terrible goalie.”
The whole team had gathered around and she looked at all of us, her face falling. “I’m sorry, guys. I know I’m not a great skater, but I really wanted to play on the team. Maybe you should find somebody else.”
“No way,” I said firmly, hating the dejection on her face. “We’ll manage. I don’t have any real hockey experience either.”
“But you skate li
ke you’ve been doing it all your life,” she pointed out.
“That’s because I have.”
“She was a competitive figure skater,” Mel said.
“That’s so cool,” the twins piped up in unison.
Zoe removed her helmet. “Can you show us some—”
“Jumps and spins?” Teagan finished.
I glanced down. “Maybe not in this gear.”
“We’re here to play hockey, not put on an Ice Capades show,” Joey said.
I punched him lightly in the arm. “We’ll play hockey.”
“Then let’s get to it,” Damien said. Before getting on the ice, we’d appointed him team captain. “Who wants to be in goal?”
Teagan’s hand shot up. “Can I give it a try? I was always the goalie when we played shinny growing up.”
Damien nodded. “We’ll see how you do. Sadie, you’re on defense.”
“Oh.” I’d hoped my few turns around the rink before Cordelia’s fall would have shown him that I wasn’t going to be entirely useless.
“It’s because you’re the best skater out of all of us,” he explained. “A good D-man—”
“Or woman,” Mel cut in.
Damien didn’t let that trip him up. “Needs to be able to skate well backward. Plus, if the other team tries for a breakaway, you’ll be able to beat most players down to our end.”
I perked up, glad he appreciated my abilities.
“Joey, you’re on D with Sadie. Zoe and Mel, you’re forwards.” When his gaze fell on Cordelia next, he hesitated.
“How about you only put me on when someone else is really, really tired?” she suggested.
Damien nodded, rather grimly I thought. “I’ll play whatever position is needed.”
I spent some time with Cordelia, teaching her how to stop, while everyone got warmed up. Then Damien ran us through some drills.
Things went well for the next few minutes. Cordelia stayed on her feet and I started to get more comfortable in my hockey gear. A short while later, however, I was dodging around orange pylons, trying to keep control of the puck on my stick, when Cordelia came barreling in my direction, her arms windmilling as her stick clattered to the ice.
“Sadie! I’m sorry!”
I hopped out of the way, just in time, and she went zooming past me.
Zoe wasn’t so lucky.
Cordelia crashed into her and they fell to the ice in a heap.
“I’m so sorry, Zoe!” Cordelia said as I helped her up. “I panicked and forgot everything Sadie taught me.”
With Cordelia back on her feet, I offered a hand down to Zoe. She grimaced and reached for her ankle instead.
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” I asked as everyone gathered around.
“My ankle,” Zoe said.
“I broke your ankle?” Cordelia practically wailed.
“No, no,” Zoe rushed to assure her. “I’m pretty sure it’s just twisted.”
Damien and Joey lifted her up off the ice. She stood on her right foot and tried to put weight on her left. She winced, but bravely tried to skate.
Teagan had to grab her arm to stop her from falling. “Sorry, twin. You’re sidelined.”
“Maybe it’ll be better by tomorrow,” Zoe said, the hope behind her words sounding incredibly fragile.
Her sister raised an eyebrow at her.
Zoe’s shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry, guys. You’ll be short a player now.”
“It’s all my fault,” Cordelia said. “I’m so sorry I hurt you, Zoe!”
“Don’t worry about it,” Zoe told her kindly. “There’s always some risk to playing sports.”
Cordelia still had guilt written all across her face, but she didn’t say anything more.
Teagan and Mel helped Zoe off the ice and got her settled on one of the benches.
“Maybe we should take you to a doctor,” Mel said.
Zoe waved off her concern. “I’ll be fine. It’s nothing serious. You guys keep practicing.”
“Is there any point?” Joey asked quietly as I joined the guys in the middle of the rink. “With Zoe out and Cordelia being . . . well, Cordelia, we don’t have enough players.”
Damien’s gaze zeroed in on something at one end of the rink. I followed his line of sight and saw Bobby standing behind one of the benches, his back to us as he talked on his cell phone.
“Does Bobby play?” I asked.
“He’s not a great skater,” Damien said, “but he’s been in goal for a few recreational games.”
“Is he on anyone else’s team?” Joey asked.
“Not that I know of,” Damien replied.
I skated down to the end of the rink. Bobby was still on the phone, so I waited patiently. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but my ears perked up when I heard what he was saying.
“I did as you asked, and I’m pretty sure the cops believed me when I told them I was with you. . . . Yes, I said you were home with a headache and I was keeping you company.”
He paused, listening to the person on the other end, while I barely breathed.
“I was home alone all evening,” he said after a moment, “so nobody can say I wasn’t with you. Everything will be okay, Pen. I promise.” He lowered his voice to say something I couldn’t hear. Then he ended the call.
“Bobby.”
He nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of my voice. “Oh, hey, Sadie,” he said when he’d turned around. He shoved his phone into his coat pocket.
Damien skated up behind me. “We’ve got a situation,” he said to Bobby.
He explained what had happened to Zoe. Fortunately, Bobby agreed right away to join our team. It didn’t take long to decide that he would take Teagan’s place in goal. His size alone would be an asset when it came to keeping pucks out of the net.
I didn’t have a jersey big enough to fit him, but we decided it wouldn’t matter that much since he’d be in goal. I sensed that everyone was a bit envious of him for not having to wear mustard yellow. Heck, I was a tad envious myself. I figured we’d all survive, though.
Another team had arrived at the rink, ready for their practice, so we got off the ice to make way for them. Mel gave Zoe and Teagan a ride home in her truck and the rest of us left on foot. I walked with Joey, my skate bag over my shoulder.
“We’ll be out of the tournament after the first game,” he said as we crossed the park.
“Don’t talk like that,” I admonished, even though I suspected he might be right. “We need to stay positive.”
“I might be more positive if I remember to have a stiff drink before tomorrow’s game.”
“No way,” I said. “We need you completely sober.”
“Then I’ll have the stiff drink after the game, when I need to forget.”
I might end up tempted to join him, but I didn’t say so. I was trying to stick with a positive attitude.
“So,” I said, changing the subject, “do you know anything new about the murder investigation?”
“Not really.” He adjusted the strap of his hockey bag on his shoulder. “The police are being tight-lipped, which isn’t surprising.”
“Did you get the information Grayson wanted?”
“Grayson?” Joey echoed, confused.
“He wanted you to find out about something. The two of you were talking about it at the Inkwell the other night.”
Understanding showed on Joey’s face. “He wanted to know Mel’s connection to Freddy’s assistant.”
Of course he did, because he seemed to think Mel was guilty. That stirred up a storm of emotions inside me.
“And, yep, I know they used to date,” Joey continued. “I’m guessing you already knew that.”
“I did, but Mel’s my friend. I wasn’t going to blab about her past.”
“Unfortunately for me.”
“You still figured it out,” I reminded him.
He grinned. “I always do.”
We parted ways at the corner of Creekside Road and Sycam
ore Street.
Once I was on my own, I couldn’t think of anything other than Bobby’s phone call.
I was certain he’d been talking to Penny Blaine. I was also sure that Penny had asked Bobby to lie for her, to bolster her alibi.
Her false alibi.
Did that mean she was guilty or just scared the police would think she was?
I was determined to find out one way or another.
Chapter 15
The Inkwell was more crowded than usual for a Sunday afternoon, thanks to all the tourists in town for the Winter Carnival. I was so busy serving customers and chatting about the pub and the inspiration behind the themed cocktails that I didn’t have a chance to think about my suspect list or how I would eliminate any names from it. In the midafternoon, however, that problem rushed out from the shadows at the back of my mind and into a bright spotlight.
I was on my way back to the bar after serving a couple near one of the south-facing windows when I spotted Mel out by Creekside Road. She was on her break, and I’d assumed she was in the back room, but clearly that wasn’t the case. And she wasn’t alone. Daylight was seeping out of the gray sky, but I could still see well enough to recognize the woman she was speaking with.
Jade Castellano.
I glanced around to make sure no one was watching me. All of the customers seemed absorbed in their conversations or focused on their food and drinks, so I stepped closer to the window. Mel said something to Jade, and the other woman shook her head. A white car was parked illegally by the curb. Jade circled around the vehicle and opened the driver’s door. She paused then and said a few words to Mel over the roof of the car before climbing inside and shutting the door.
As Jade drove away, Mel struck off through the snow toward the footbridge. I quickly tore myself away from the window and returned to the bar. I figured it would probably be best to pretend I hadn’t seen anything. Mel most likely wouldn’t want to know I’d been snooping, and whatever had passed between her and Jade was none of my business.