Playmaker

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Playmaker Page 2

by Jami Davenport


  I’ve always been sure of myself and knew where I was going and what I wanted.

  Until now.

  My first season in the big leagues and I’d fucked up hugely. Now my future was one big black hole. My vision of fame and fortune was seriously in jeopardy.

  I hadn’t spoken with the team since I’d been suspended, along with two teammates, for instigating a drunken brawl in a local Seattle bar. My agent had reached out to them multiple times, but the GM refused to discuss my future with the team until after the playoffs, which had ended a week ago. Yet we’d heard crickets.

  It wasn’t a good sign.

  Now I was ready to face further punishment for my stupidity and to look for her—the woman whose disappearance pushed me over the edge.

  I’d reached two conclusions during these three weeks of exile. One, I was going to fight for my career and my position on the team, even if said fighting involved groveling. And two, I was going to search heaven, earth, and every fucking thing in between to find her.

  That’s why I was here on this side street in South Downtown Seattle. SODO was known more for its warehouses and blue-collar businesses than its high-tech, gentrified city center to the north.

  I pivoted on my heel and headed back to my original destination, a building old enough that I could imagine it’d seen a hundred years of history or more.

  I approached the door with its gold letters proclaiming “Gone Missing Investigations” and went inside. A bell dinged over the door, as I stood in the large open space with scarred hardwood floors and a hundred years of dust and cobwebs. Toward the back, I saw an office and walked toward it.

  Drew Delacorte, who’d been a member of the Sockeyes Stanley Cup-winning team, waved at me through the glass windows of the office. Last season, Drew had been touted as the next hockey superstar, but his heart hadn’t been in it. At the end of a Cup-winning season, he’d retired young to pursue his passion to be a private investigator.

  I struggled to understand why anyone would make such a decision during the prime of his career, but I respected his conviction to follow his heart. He was also engaged to Marina, a once-disgraced Olympic figure skater who was building a respectable career as an ice-skating coach. Together, they’d become a Seattle power couple.

  Drew and I shook hands and turned toward the rugged-appearing man sitting behind the scarred old desk. The man stood and gave me a firm handshake. He didn’t smile or express any emotion, yet his shrewd, assessing gaze made me squirm.

  “Kaden, this is my partner, Bronson Warner. My other partner, his wife, Becca, is currently interviewing witnesses for another case we’re investigating.”

  “Nice to meet you, Bronson.”

  Bronson gave me a curt nod in return. The man was all business, and I was fine with that.

  “Have a seat.” Drew gestured to a small table with four chairs arranged haphazardly around it. I took a seat, as did Drew and Bronson. Drew opened an iPad with a small keyboard, while Bronson placed a yellow notepad on the table. The two different working styles stood in stark contrast. I’d heard Drew was some kind of computer whiz, while Bronson was an Army veteran with a Purple Heart.

  “Tell us why you’re here.” Bronson scrutinized me, his pen poised over the paper.

  “I’m looking for someone. A woman. She disappeared about three weeks ago.”

  “What’s her name?” Drew asked.

  “Lanie Roleau, but I doubt that’s her real name.” Belatedly, I realized the sparse information I had on Lanie wasn’t going to be overly helpful.

  “You don’t know her real name?” Bronson didn’t bother to keep that trace of skepticism from his voice. He scribbled some notes on his pad.

  “No, I don’t. She was always mysterious and vague. Very private.”

  Bronson sat back and rubbed his chin as he regarded me with renewed interest. “When is the last time you saw her?”

  “As I said, three weeks ago. We were to meet at our usual place to celebrate her birthday, and she never showed up. I’ve called multiple times, but her phone goes straight to voicemail.”

  “Where did she live? Do you have an address?” Drew scratched the side of his cheek and shared a grimace with Bronson, giving me the distinct feeling they thought I was crazy.

  “No, I don’t. She told me she lived in Portland. I know nothing about her personally. She never talked about herself. She said I was better off not knowing. We talked about lots of things, but never anything regarding her past or her personal life. I don’t even have a clue where she worked. We met last fall in a Seattle bar, the same one where we always met after that. I thought it’d be a simple one-night stand, but it wasn’t. I wanted to see her again, and she felt the same way. Whenever I was in Seattle on a weekend, we’d meet. She claimed she drove up from Portland. She refused to come to my condo, wouldn’t accept any invitations to attend my games, and never wanted to meet any of my friends. I never met any of hers either.”

  “Sounds like she’s married and wanted a little on the side,” Bronson remarked. “Maybe the husband found out, and she had to end it.”

  Drew’s pitying expression irritated me, as did Bronson’s skepticism. But then, everything irritated me right now.

  “It wasn’t like that. She’d have at least said goodbye. She was scared. I could tell. Always looking over her shoulder and never wanting to be seen in public. She wore dark sunglasses or a hat all the time. When we did go out, we had to sit in the darkest corner of the bar or restaurant, and she was always on edge. Like a deer constantly on the lookout for a pack of wolves.”

  “Like I said, jealous husband,” Bronson insisted smugly, crossing his arms over his ample chest. “Why do you want to find someone you know so little about? Especially when that person doesn’t appear to want to be found.”

  I debated on how much to say, realizing the truth made me sound like a flake. But what the fuck did I care what they thought? Their opinion of me didn’t matter, nor would it affect the job they did. My only choice was to lay my cards on the table and spill my guts.

  “She’s…she’s the love of my life.” There, I said it. I spat it out and defied my own denials that I was only infatuated with her. “I’m driving myself insane. I can’t stop thinking about her. I need to find her, make sure she’s okay, and talk to her, even if it’s only one last time.”

  They both stared at me to the point their silence made me squirm.

  Bronson’s phone rang, and he glanced at the display. “I have to take this. Drew, you’re lead on Kaden’s case. I’m here if you need me.” On that note, he exited the office and walked out of earshot.

  Drew watched him go and turned back to me. “Sorry, he’s not known for his tact, but he’s a brilliant investigator. I hope he didn’t put you off too much.”

  I shrugged. “Nah, that’s fine. No offense taken.” Okay, maybe some offense, but I was a big boy. I could take it.

  “What’s your situation with the team, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  Drew’s change of subject caught me off guard. “I…I don’t know. My agent and I are meeting with them later this afternoon. I’m going to beg if I have to. Without hockey, I have nothing. Unlike you, I never prepared myself for a career outside of hockey. I guess that’s shortsighted considering the average professional hockey career lasts five years.” I wasn’t sure why I was baring my soul to Drew when he was close to a stranger.

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Most guys have no idea what their post-hockey lives look like.” His expression was sympathetic, so I lumbered on, needing someone to talk to who wasn’t currently part of my team and still pissed at me.

  “I’m only twenty-three, and my future’s already in limbo. After my suspension, I ran away to a remote cabin in the woods like a fucking coward, unable to face my teammates as they struggled in the playoffs down three key players. Then they lose in the first round, and I bear the brunt of the blame.”

  “I’ll keep my fingers crossed. We all screw up.
It’s how you handle the aftermath that’s crucial.”

  “Yeah, I’m taking responsibility and promising to keep my nose clean.”

  “Good luck. Sockeyes management will treat you fairly, especially if they see how much you regret your mistakes.” Drew glanced back down at his tablet, appearing to read through his notes. “Do you have a picture of Lanie?”

  “Yeah, just one. She hated having her picture taken, but I did sneak one out-of-focus selfie of her and me. She made me promise to delete it, which I did, but later I retrieved it from the deleted folder.” I opened my phone and showed him my wallpaper. “This is her.”

  Drew studied it. He glanced up, and his gaze softened. He managed a smile. “She’s beautiful. And her expression is kind.”

  “She’s kind and beautiful and classy. She’s funny, too, and entertaining.” I stopped myself before I gushed even more about this woman.

  “The image is blurry and dark. That might make it hard to find her.”

  “It’s all I have.” I spread my hands out in front of me, palms up, and sighed deeply. I was giving Drew a nearly impossible task with very little to go on.

  “Can you send me the image?”

  “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

  “I have to ask you this. What if Lanie doesn’t want to be found? By you or anyone else? Have you considered that?”

  I mulled over his words and sighed, meeting his gaze with one just as direct and intense. “We had something special, and we both knew it. Something worth fighting for. She’s in trouble, and she needs me whether she admits it or not.”

  “You sound pretty sure of yourself.”

  I shrugged, unable to explain how I felt in any more detail than I already had.

  “Do you have any idea where she might’ve gone?” Drew’s fingers were poised over his tablet’s keyboard, ready to document any useful information I had.

  “I have one possible place, but it’s a long shot.”

  “And that is?”

  “We talked about travelling, but she didn’t seem interested in leaving the country. Maybe she couldn’t. I don’t know. Nor did she want to leave the Pacific Northwest. She said once that there were lots of places to disappear around here.”

  “Did she ever mention any of those places?”

  “Yeah, there was one place we talked about quite a bit, partially because of you guys.”

  “Huh?” Drew was seriously confused. He cocked his head and studied me.

  I almost grinned. “Yeah, you’re getting married at Ethan Parker’s mansion on Madrona Island in a few months, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah, we are.”

  “The team was talking about it just before I got booted and about the time your invitations came out. Several of the guys had spent time up there during the summer, and I was intrigued. Lanie and I discussed going there together when the season ended. She’d actually been interested.”

  “Do you think she might’ve disappeared there based on that conversation?”

  “That’s all I’ve got.” I shrugged. Fuck if I knew.

  “Well, you’re in luck. Marina and I are visiting Madrona Island in a few days anyway. We’ll check it out. See what we can find.”

  “I’d appreciate it.”

  “Give me some background on the time you spent together. Anything she said, even the most seemingly insignificant thing might help us find her.”

  I racked my brain for any little tidbit that might help find Lanie, knowing I was grasping at straws, looking for a person I knew nothing about, didn’t have one good image of, and didn’t even know her real name.

  We discussed the case for another twenty minutes and then I headed for Sockeyes HQ to determine my fate with the team. Hope of finding Lanie lightened my step. Maybe things were looking up and my life wasn’t as destroyed as I’d first thought. There were always solutions.

  When I got to Sockeyes headquarters, my agent, Bob Kent, was already sitting in a conference room. He shot me a grim smile, which was more of a grimace, but said nothing. Even he was mad at me. I didn’t blame him.

  Head coach Mike Gorst and the team GM, Garrett Calhoun, entered the room and shut the door behind them. I wasn’t encouraged by their twin expressions of disapproval as their gazes settled on my sorry ass.

  I swallowed hard and clamped my big mouth shut. I’d wait for them to speak before I groveled and begged. Now wasn’t the time for foolish pride. It was the time to beg forgiveness and promise to do better and mean it.

  Gorst and Calhoun let me stew for a few minutes as they consulted their tablets. I wrung my hands together under the table and forced myself to breathe.

  In. Out. In. Out.

  Finally, Calhoun shut the cover on his tablet and sat back, regarding me with an unreadable expression. He rubbed his smoothly shaven chin, reminding me that my beard was scruffy compared to the other three men.

  “So, Kaden, let’s get right to the heart of the matter. You embarrassed the team. Your behavior disrespected our loyal fans. And worst of all, you betrayed your coaches and teammates. Because of your selfish actions, along with Jasper and Gage, we entered the playoffs at a grave disadvantage and lost in the first round. What do you have to say for yourself?”

  I cleared my throat and lowered my head in shame. “I’m truly sorry. It won’t happen again. I’m embarrassed by my behavior and my lapse in judgment. I’m humbly requesting that the team gives me another chance. You won’t be disappointed. I promise.” I raised my head and met Calhoun’s gaze, praying he read the sincerity in mine.

  Neither Calhoun nor Gorst appeared impressed.

  I’d never been much for eloquent speeches. I was a straightforward guy known for his bluntness, even though I did possess the capacity to be a charmer when it came to the opposite sex.

  Bobby, probably fearing a negative outcome, rushed to further explain how sorry I was by adding a layer of bullshit I didn’t possess. They listened impassively to him, not any more impressed than they’d been by my brief apology.

  My career was sinking into the black waters of a stormy sea. I had to do more to rescue this sinking ship.

  “Coach, Mr. Calhoun, it’s hard for me to express myself with words. I’d rather show by my actions how I’ve learned from this experience. I met with the two men who were injured in the fray and apologized and covered their medical bills. I’ve spent multiple weeks in a cabin in the woods, just me and my conscience, while I overhauled my attitude and my future. I took playing in the NHL for granted. In my overconfident rookie way, I honestly didn’t think about the consequences of my actions. Now I do. I realize how much I’ve struggled to get this far, and I’m not going to destroy my career and my team’s chances winning a Cup with another immature stunt. I let you down. I let my teammates down. And I let myself down. I hope you’ll see it in your hearts to give me another chance to prove myself.”

  I waited, hoping my sincere expression of regret would prove my case.

  Gorst and Calhoun exchanged glances, as if they’d already made a decision before I’d set foot in the building.

  “One more chance, Kaden. That’s it. Every member of this team is valuable until they do something harmful. We won’t be having this conversation again.” Calhoun’s steely eyes drilled into mine.

  “Thank you. You won’t regret this.” I nodded and stood when they did. I shook both their hands, as did Bobby, then we both ducked out of the conference room. They didn’t follow us.

  “They’d already made their decision,” Bobby noted in that superior, know-it-all tone he often took with his rookie clients. I bit my tongue. Bobby might be arrogant, obnoxious, and pushy, but he was one of the best, and I was fortunate to be represented by him.

  I shrugged and said nothing, trying to maintain an air of professionalism, when all I wanted to do was dance down the hallway to the elevators.

  I was back on the team, and I would not disappoint them a second time.

  The guys were waiting for me when I got back to the cond
o. The four of us were part of a larger group we’d christened the Puck Brothers at the beginning of the season. We were the rookies on the team, Axel, Easton, Steele, and me.

  Three pairs of eyes turned toward me and waited for the word.

  “I’m on the team.” I grinned broadly as they surrounded me, slapping me on the back and giving me bro hugs.

  “So how did it go?” Steele asked as we gathered around the kitchen counter and popped the tops off beers in celebration.

  “I groveled, begged for forgiveness, and promised I’d be a good boy. They just stared at me. I really thought I was getting the boot. They let me stew for a while before telling me I was staying on the team, but I won’t get a second chance.”

  “I guess your partying days are over,” Easton mused. He’d already hung up his man-whore ways in exchange for the love of his life and two children. I secretly envied him. I’d never pictured myself as a family man, especially not in my early twenties, but Easton wore it well. Not one of us pitied him for being tied down. Honestly, I think we all eventually wanted what he had, whether it was in the near or distant future. Sadly, I didn’t know if I’d ever find another person as special as Lanie.

  Steele had this bad habit of reading people’s minds. “Did you ever find your mystery woman?”

  “No.” My answer was short and blunt, and Steele wasn’t letting me off that easily.

  “Did you look for her? Did she disappear into the wind?”

  “I, uh, I hired a PI just this morning.”

  Three sets of eyebrows shot upward in surprise. They’d assumed I’d get over her and move on. They didn’t know me as well as they thought they did. Hell, if someone had told me a year ago I’d be obsessed with one woman, I wouldn’t have believed it either.

  “I could’ve helped track her down,” Steele sniffed as if insulted I hadn’t thought to ask him.

  Now three pairs of eyes swung toward him.

  “What the fuck are you? A CIA operative?” Easton said grouchily. Steele was quiet, a neat freak, and he knew a lot about weird stuff, like forensics and stuff spies would know.

 

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