Luckily for me, Ashley lived in a second-story apartment facing the street. As long as I parked my car in a white stall, I wouldn’t be bothered by security and I wouldn’t have to get out of the car at all. I pulled out my phone, ready to play Sudoku, thinking I would be here for a while. I was surprised to find that there weren’t any media outlets hanging outside her door, waiting to catch Ashley as she left, throwing out questions they hoped she would answer.
It was quiet.
I wondered if the police had been here to clear them all out.
It was another hour before there was any significant movement. In fact, I might have been sharing a hilarious Baby Yoda meme to my Facebook feed when I heard her slam her door. I nearly dropped my phone but quickly tipped the bill of my Buccaneers hat down in hopes she wouldn’t see me.
Not that we officially met. However, with King as her lawyer, and after his impromptu visit yesterday, I wouldn’t be surprised if he warned her about me.
I watched her walk down the staircase and head for the parking lot. For one heart-wrenching moment, I thought for sure she was heading straight to my car. She was practically stomping and there was a look of determination on her face. I was waiting for her to pound on my window. I was waiting for her to snap at me and call me sexist because I took Eric’s case. Instead, she walked right by me and headed into the lot where she crawled into her car.
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I had been holding and waited until she drove past me before starting my car.
I had never been good at following people when driving. It was easy to get distracted, whether it was because I had to focus on an asshole who cut me off or trying to merge into another lane during peak traffic hours where no one wants to let me over. I considered myself to be a good driver, but not to where I could perform crazy maneuvers and last-minute lane changes the way my friend’s husband could.
Luckily, Ashley wasn’t a crazy driver either. I managed to keep a steady pace behind her. I didn’t think she could tell I was following her either. From where I was, I saw her pause and look at her phone every time she hit a red light. I wondered where the hell IPD was so they could pull her over and give her a ticket simply for looking at her phone while driving.
I didn’t realize she was heading to the ice rink until after she continued on Sand Canyon for a while. When she passed the 5 freeway and made a right on Marine Way, I frowned. Why would she go to the ice rink – the very rink the Buccaneers practiced out of? Was she here to meet Eric? Were they going to discuss something?
If that were true, surely Eric would have told me… wouldn’t he?
Honestly, I didn’t know.
Sure, he hired me to help him. That didn’t mean he was going to be completely honest with me about everything. I didn’t think we considered each other friends, not yet anyway. I didn’t know if I even wanted to be his friend.
She parked her car and jumped out, throwing a blue parka over her shirt.
Smart.
Which meant this whole meeting was planned – although I hadn’t seen her bring the jacket from her apartment. Maybe she left it in her car on purpose.
I got out of my car, immediately crossing my arms over my chest. Unlike Ashley, I was wholly unprepared for a visit to the rink. The autumn day was surprisingly crisp, and I was in nothing but a thin camisole shirt and skinny jeans. I headed inside, turning my head to the left and then the right. I saw no sign of Ashley and no sign of Eric. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe it meant she wasn’t meeting him at all.
I slowly moseyed my way to the snack bar and ordered a hot chocolate with whip cream. As I waited for my drink, I did another scan of my immediate environment. There were a couple of youth hockey coaches with big, bulky bags slung over their shoulder, heading into various locker rooms. I saw figure skaters in tiny skirts and flimsy tights, stark-white skates with blade protectors, fixing their already-perfect hair, talking to each other with rigid faces. There were a couple of kids running down the long hallway, laughter echoing on the halls.
It was easy to forget the rink didn’t just belong to the Buccaneers. It belonged to everyone – people learning to skate, people who skated for fun, intense figure skaters, youth hockey, both recreational and competitive, and Olympic medalists. I thought it would be easy to find Ashley here, but it was busy – busy even for noon on a school day – and Ashley was nowhere in sight.
“Mika?”
I grabbed my hot chocolate and murmured my appreciation before heading back to the first story. I knew I would have to go in each rink. A couple of them were empty but the other two were busy.
I sighed and took a long sip of my hot chocolate and headed to Rink 1. This one and Rink 2 were both closed. There were a couple of people in them – especially Rink 2 which was where the Buccaneers practiced – but no Ashley. I did a quick cursory glance in the locker rooms, but then decided not to do that because there were a lot of kids changing into hockey gear, and even though they kept the majority of their clothes on, it still made me feel uncomfortable.
After finishing up with Rink 1 and 2, I was starting to think she managed to avoid me completely. Had I been obvious?
I hadn’t actually tried to hide the fact that I was following her. I took for granted that she had no idea about who I was and there might be a possibility that I would follow her.
That you know of, a voice pointed out.
I suddenly stopped in the middle of the hallway, just passing the front counter.
“Watch it,” some boy, probably ten, said, sidestepping around me and whacking me with his heavy bag.
I wasn’t sure whether to apologize or tell him off. Instead, I went back to Ryan King’s impromptu drop in at my office the other day. Would he warn her about me? I wouldn’t put it past him. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more confident I was that he had.
Which meant I had completely underestimated her.
“Mika?”
I turned at the familiar voice, careful not to jerk my hand and spill my hot chocolate. This was the second time someone was calling my name. Unfortunately, I would not be receiving a tasty drink that would help me stay warm. I was surprised to see Kevin here during the day. When I was with Eric, Kevin had worked at a cell phone company, making pretty good money, selling phones and helping repair them. I wondered if he was still in that business or if he was now doing something different. I wouldn’t be surprised. Kevin was good at a lot of things and had this uncanny ability to manifest opportunities for himself.
“Oh, hey.” I gave him a smile. “What are you going here?”
“Just had a meeting with the manager,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know if you’ve experienced bad cell reception here, but we’re trying to figure out how people can get cell service without restructuring the makeup of the building.”
I raised my brow and took a sip of the drink. “Wow,” I said. “Any luck?”
“Not really.” He shook his head. “What about you? What are you up to?”
“Oh, you know.”
He nodded. “Eric’s case?”
“Something like that.”
“Any leads?” He seemed hopeful.
I bit my bottom lip. It wasn’t like I didn’t trust Kevin. Kevin had been Eric’s best friend since even before I met Eric. I knew Kevin had Eric’s back and I knew I could probably trust him with what I was doing here. The only issue I had was anything I told Kevin would find its way back to Eric, and I wasn’t sure I wanted Eric to be aware of what I was doing. At least, not yet.
“Just covering my basis,” I said finally. “I’m hoping to have something soon.”
He nodded his head, seemingly okay with my answer.
“Well, I should get going,” Kevin said. “As much as I want to milk this little trip, my boss needs me back. Apparently, there’s a whole slew of phones with issues just waiting for me.”
“Aren’t you the lucky one?” I teased.
He grinned. “Something like t
hat.” He lifted his arm. “Take care, Mika. It was good to see you.”
“Likewise.”
I watched him leave before realizing I still had a job to do. I checked the last two rinks – both crowded for different reasons. Rink 3 had private lessons going on on various parts of the ice. Skating lessons, figure skating skills lessons, stick time. Rink 4 seemed to be filled with public skaters. Once again, I was surprised by the turnout, especially for a school day.
I did a quick check in the restrooms and another check on the second story of the rink, but Ashley had completely disappeared.
I shook myself, stepping out of the building and heading back to my car. Either she completely eluded me, knowing I was on her tail, or I missed her.
I wasn’t sure what was worse.
Was I getting terrible at following someone – an important aspect at how I made my living? Or was my personal history with Eric affecting how I did my job?
Chapter 10
At this point, I typically had some kind of evidence that led me to believe something. By the end of forty-eight hours, I had a position, a gut feeling, something that indicated which way the case was going to go, how this was all going to turn out.
But, for some reason, I was still clueless when it came to Ashley and her suspicious behavior.
My fingers gripped my steering wheel as I turned right onto Harvard. I blew errant strands of hair away from my face, keeping my eyes fixed on the road. I wasn’t quite sure where I could go from here. There was something about Ashley that didn’t sit right with me. I didn’t completely believe her.
The only reason why I couldn’t completely write her off was because she knew things about Eric that were true, things only someone who had been intimate with him would know.
At least Eric wasn’t stupid enough to deny that they had had sex at all. He wasn’t saying that. He was saying it was consensual and it happened at the end of last season rather than at the beginning of this one.
As far as I knew, Eric hadn’t experienced a concussion as a hockey play at any point in his life. Even when he was a kid back in Sweden, besides a broken wrist, he hadn’t had any major injuries playing the sport. There was no reason for Eric to lie about when this occurred. If he wanted to lie, why not just lie that it happened at all? If there really was minimal to no proof, essentially the burden was on Ashley to prove that he had raped her, and as of right now, she couldn’t do that.
One of them was lying. But who?
I pulled into the police station parking lot and pulled out my badge from the dashboard. I grabbed my purse and locked my doors. I didn’t think Beech was going to be happy to see me, especially when I asked for the rape kit. In fact, I absolutely doubted he would let me see it. But maybe if I played my cards right, he would tell me what the report said in the first place.
I blew out a breath and headed up to the second story. It only occurred to me now that Beech might not be at his desk because he was investigating the case himself. As I walked down the aisle, I found his desk empty. I nodded at a couple of detectives who recognized me and dropped into Beech’s chair.
Why not see if he has the report?
I sat up straighter at the thought.
No. I couldn’t. That would be invading his privacy. I wasn’t the type of person –
Don’t even finish that thought. You are exactly that type of person. Your job basically forces you to be this type of person! Surely you’re not this much in denial that you can’t figure it out.
I pressed my finger to my chin, debating. It was my job to snoop. Although Eric had yet to officially pay me. Normally, I asked for half the payment up front, plus a daily stipend and expenses. But I didn’t. I treated him like he wasn’t a client. I treated him like… I didn’t know what. He brought out an insecure little child when I was trying to set clear boundaries and emphasize self-respect. Around Eric, I had none of those traits and was reduced to a teenage girl, starstruck by someone as gorgeous, who had no regard for herself and what she wanted.
My hand teetered close to his top drawer. I bit my bottom lip.
Logically, this was wrong. Sure, I could tell myself that this was job and that Eric would eventually pay me to solve this. I could tell myself there was a good chance that there was a very important report that could very well implicate my client – or absolve him of his crime. I would be doing right by my client by looking for it.
I let out a sigh and dropped my hand back into my lap.
The issue was Beech himself. I knew Beech wasn’t my friend. I knew we both didn’t like each other. But we respected each other. And I just couldn’t let myself go through his things. Maybe assholes deserved that but not Beech. I mean, yes, he was an asshole but he was an asshole I respected. There was a difference.
“What are you doing here?”
I jumped from where I sat, my hand over my chest as my heart shot straight out of my chest like it had been shot out of a canon.
“Oh my, God, Beech, what the actual fuck?”
He dropped into the seat across from me, seemingly too tired even for our usual banter. There were bags under his eyes and he reeked of cigarettes. His nearly black hair was not up, like it normally was, and hung down, the ends barely grazing his shoulders.
I had never seen him this way before. I almost felt sorry for him.
“What do you want, Chalmers?” He rested his elbow on the arm of the chair and placed his hand in his palm. “I’m not in the mood for you to come over and annoy the shit out of me, okay? I have too much on my plate.”
I tried to ignore the hurt I felt at him saying my mere presence was annoying.
I knew this.
“I just want the report,” I said.
The last thing I wanted to be was an annoyance to him. I knew many PIs and detectives, anyone in law enforcement, didn’t give a shit about how they were perceived by other people, especially when they were being a pest as part of their job. Typically, I fell into line with this, but there were always exceptions. When it came to Beech, it was important for me that he regarded me as someone competent, who could do my job well, and someone he respected.
“You know I can’t give that to you.”
“Can you tell me the content?” I tried. “Maybe the dates or the times? Was there semen found? If so, does it match Eric’s?”
Beech gave me a long look. “You’re not going to let this drop, are you?” He ran a hand through his hair, heaving a sigh. “Can I ask you a question? Why does this case mean so much to you?”
“All of my cases mean a lot to me,” I said through gritted teeth. He was baiting me, trying to change the subject. I knew this. Logically, I knew this. But I let him do it to me anyway. My nails dug into my palms, trying to get me back on track. Trying to get me to refocus on the rape kit. “I do what I need to do in order to get the job done.” I cleared my throat. “The fact that you haven’t arrested Eric says a lot about this so-called –“
“Eric?” He arched a brow. “You call all your clients by their first names or just the Swedish ones?”
My face exploded with heat. I wished I had worn my hair down because I could hide my obvious redness behind a curtain of my hair if I really wanted to. Unfortunately, because it was in a high ponytail, I would be forced to have his perceptive eyes pick up on my uncontrollable tell.
“Although,” Beech continued before I could come up with a clever retort, “he’s not really your client, is he? Your dad is your client. Foresburg is just the just the suspect.”
“Where are you even going with this?” I leaned forward, my forearms resting on the surface of his desk. His phone started to ring. Beech flickered his eyes over to it but didn’t make any sort of move to answer it.
“I’m the detective. I’ll be asking the questions.” He crossed his arms over his chest, waiting until the phone stopped ringing.
When it did, he cocked his head to the side and stood up. He leaned over the desk so he was close to me, closer than he had been before.
My first instinct was to lean back, to get out of this web he was weaving around me. My pride, however, forced me to stay. I wouldn’t let him see me cower. I wouldn’t let him think he had any effect on me whatsoever.
“What are you doing, Mika?” he asked in that silky seductive voice.
“I’m trying to do my job.” I swallowed. His voice caused my entire mouth to go dry and it was difficult to form a sentence in the first place. “I came here to see if you had the report on the rape kit.”
“Even if I did, you know I couldn’t share that information with you.” He pulled back, his little act of trying to seduce me into doing something gone for the time being.
Thank God. I had not done well with him so close to me. I was a hot mess and I wouldn’t be surprised if he knew it.
“Why not?” I asked. I was louder than I intended. I noticed a couple of other detectives who had desks close to Beech paused what they were doing in order to give us curious looks. I slowly released a breath and shifted my focus back on Beech. “It’s not like we haven’t traded information before. We’ve always helped each other with our cases. I’ve given you information, you’ve given me information.”
“Not anymore.” His hand rested on the surface of his desk, and he leaned his weight into it. “I’m done helping you pretend you’re more than what you are.”
My mouth dropped open. “And what do you think I am, exactly?” I asked.
“A fake detective,” he said. His words were like the edge of a paper, slicing into my skin and cutting me deeply. “Someone who couldn’t cut it as a police officer and had the arrogance to go off and become an investigator. Someone who gets paid to do the right thing. Someone who takes innocent victims’ money and uses it to their advantage. Someone who’s more of a detriment than an asset – and what’s worse, doesn’t even realize it.”
I abruptly stood up. Tears accumulated in my eyes at the harshness of his words. I had no idea where they came from. I had no idea if this was what he always felt and he was finally using the truth like a weapon against me, or if this was some sort of tactic to get me to stop my investigation. If it was the latter, I didn’t understand why. We had always helped each other. What about this case was causing him to push me away? To treat me like I was completely insignificant?
Ice Breakers Page 6