Changes Coming Down

by Kaje Harper

  “If you are, I am too.” Scott pulled out his cell phone to check the time. He was only three minutes early. “Where are the rest of the guys?”

  Before Nate could answer, the conference door opened. Coach said, “Come on in, guys.”

  Scott let Nate lead the way. His stomach lurched uneasily. This looked much more personal than a team meeting.

  The Leafs GM was seated at a small table, with some papers in front of him. He looked up. “Come in, have a seat.”

  Scott’s phone started ringing as he lowered himself into the chair and he silenced it in his pocket.

  Nate said, “What’s up?”

  The GM leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. “I didn’t want you two to hear it from the news or Facebook, like has happened to a few players.”

  The lurch in Scott’s stomach became a full-blown tsunami. He clenched his hands in fists to keep his arms at his sides.

  “We’ve traded the two of you, and Axel Lind from the Marlies, plus a draft pick, for a goalie.”

  No! Where? Scott kept his jaw clenched and let the veteran player speak. Nate said slowly, “Where to? Who was worth three good players?”

  “Portland. Agapov.”

  “You’re kidding!” Scott said. Okay, maybe he wasn’t letting the veteran speak. “They traded Agapov? He’s the only thing keeping them from sinking like a stone.” Us, he realized painfully. The only thing not keeping us now from sinking.

  “They’re a new team, in an area that’s not traditional hockey country. They need to build a fan base, and they’re not doing it with boring 1-0 games. They need offense and scoring, and they’re willing to give up shutout goaltending to get players who can put the puck in the net.”

  “Wow.” Scott rubbed his hand across his mouth. He’d been on the Marlies first line with Axel, before being called up. They’d played well together. Still, he’d have thought nothing would pry Agapov out of Portland’s hands. Went to show no one was safe. Well, if anyone needed more proof after Gretsky got traded.

  “The Rafters’ next game is in LA, tomorrow night. They’ll be sending you two contract information and travel arrangements.” The GM stood, his hand extended. “We’re sorry to lose you guys. Goldstein, you’ve been a great asset to the team, and Edison, we predicted great things for you. Damned bicycles.”

  Nate shook his hand slowly, looking shell-shocked. Scott pulled himself together enough to do the same and say, “I really appreciated the chance to play at this level. And no offense, but I hope to do great things for Portland.”

  Coach said, “I hope you do. Nate, gonna miss you on our power plays out there.”

  “Thanks, Coach.”

  The GM said, “Now I know you guys will want to call your agents and get your moves started. Very best of luck.”

  They were ushered out, and the door closed behind them. Scott and Nate exchanged glances, then by mutual agreement walked silently down the hall, around the corner to the elevators, and said, “Fuck!” almost in unison.

  “We just bought a house.” Nate tugged his tie loose like it was choking him. “Laura wanted to wait till we were sure I was settled. We closed in September. The kids are doing good in school.”

  “That sucks.” Scott was going to miss Toronto, and he’d have to move all the crap from his apartment, but it wouldn’t throw his whole life into disaster. Except for the part where he went from an Original Six team to the bottom team in a division that didn’t even have any Sixes.

  Scott’s phone rang again, and he looked at the ID. “My agent,” he said.

  “Sure. Go for it. See you later.” Nate walked to the elevator like his legs were unsteady.

  Scott answered the phone. “Just done with the GM. What you got for me?”

  “Hey, it’s not a bad deal,” Fraser said. “You’ll get more ice time with Portland. Third line for sure, maybe even second if you get more physical like you’ve been doing, and add a few goals to those assists.”

  “It’s Portland.”

  “It’s out of my hands, kid, you know that.”

  “Yeah, I know.” But every previous move had been a step up. Going from Kansas to Toronto had been a pain in the ass, but the step up from the ECHL to the AHL had cushioned it. This felt like a demotion. Although he really needed to stop thinking about his new team that way. He gave himself a mental bitch-slap. “So walk me though the trade. What happens next?”

  “You’re an American, so we don’t have to worry about immigration shit. Should be a simple move. Make sure you pay an accountant to keep your taxes straight, though.”

  Scott pressed the phone to his ear as he headed to the elevator, listening to Fraser talk about how this might affect his endorsement deals. Like he cared about the money, although given how he’d tapped himself out on flights last year, money didn’t hurt. “Oh hey, flights within the US are usually cheaper than across the border.” One silver lining.

  “Huh?”

  He realized he cut into Fraser’s spiel. “Never mind. Go back to what you were saying.”

  Half an hour later, back in his room, it was still hitting him. He was glad his roomie wasn’t there. “I’ll live in Portland,” he said to himself, as he hung his suit carefully in the garment bag. “I’ll be a fuckin’ Rafter.” The words didn’t want to even come out. He’d been aiming for the Leafs for years.

  He dropped onto his bed and texted to Will.

  ~Hey, is Casey out the door?

  ~And on the snow and ice, yeah

  He could call Will and distract him from worrying about Casey. That made this practically a duty, right? Not a call for help. He dialed, but when he heard Will’s voice, what came out of his mouth was, “Oh, shit, Will. I need you to talk to me.”

  “Anytime, Scotty. What can I do?”

  As he spilled his frustration and worry and took comfort from Will’s steady tone, he knew that finding and keeping Will had been one of the two best decisions of his life.

  ***

  Casey sat in his cruiser, half a mile from the ranch on trap-Landon day, and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. He fucking hated being stuck back here. If he heard so much as one wrong word out of the tablet that was relaying audio from Deputy Masterton’s hidden wire, he was going to see how fast this damned cruiser could go. He reached over and tapped the volume up again.

  The voices came across with a faint echo. Casey could picture the men in the small pumphouse, low ceiling, damp concrete floor, a stack of crates creating a hiding place for Ruiz. It was the best location they’d come up with and he hated the hell out of it.

  Ruiz was saying to Will, “You’re sure your workers know to stay clear until we contact them.”

  “They know.” Will’s slow drawl sounded almost the same as ever. Only someone who knew the man well would hear the little rasp of tension in it.

  “Close your jacket over that vest, and stay by the door. Get clear of the building the first moment you can. No matter what.”

  “Yeah. I promised Casey.”

  “And you know what to do?”

  That must’ve been aimed at Masterton, the deputy closest in size and shape to the truck driver, because Masterton said, “Yes, sir.”

  “And now we wait.”

  Casey drummed his fingers harder. The old pumphouse was a nice secluded spot way over the hill from the main house, with an open line of sight for hundreds of yards all around. No one could sneak up on them, and they’d know if Landon brought any backup. He’d have to go inside to meet them, no bullshit about just passing by.

  Casey hoped like hell that Masterton was right about never meeting Landon before. That the ski mask he was wearing would be enough disguise. That the deputy had the acting chops to do this and could sound like Ruiz’s version of the driver. That this didn’t turn to shit, especially because Will had insisted on being in there at the beginning, so Landon wouldn’t smell a rat.

  They’d borrowed a green semi cab to park on the shoulder of the nearest road. It
housed a couple of his deputies close enough for observation and backup, while he was back here out of the action. Dammit. But he was not letting this scumbag off on a conflict of interest. Ruiz and the others would do a good job. Didn’t mean Casey wouldn’t give his left nut to be there.

  There was a long teeth-grinding wait, then one of the guys in the truck murmured, “Here he comes. Parked right by us, getting out, heading to your location on foot.” After a minute, he added, “Close enough to hear you in 10, 9, 8—”

  Ruiz said, “And go, people. Show’s on.”

  Five seconds later, Masterton said loudly, with a surprisingly good New York accent, “Hey, Rice, you listening to me?”

  Will’s voice came distantly. “Yeah.”

  “You gonna pay me?”

  An observer whispered, “He’s waiting outside the door. Listening.”

  And yeah, that was why Will had insisted on playing his part. Casey murmured, “Any weapons?”

  “Not visible. Could be concealed.”

  Casey’s nails dug into his palms.

  Over the mike, Masterton kept on with his lines. “You wanna know why the old folks died? You’ll pay to hear this.”

  Will’s voice was loud and clear. “I don’t believe you. Landon would never do anything to hurt his grandparents.”

  “Hurt? Hah! He sat there in a cafe and gave me their plate number. Told me when and where I should run ’em off the side of a cliff.”

  “You’re saying you actually did it?” The way Will’s voice rose and shook couldn’t be all acting.

  Casey gritted his teeth. Shit, I want to kill Landon. Maybe it was good he wasn’t closer.

  “I was broke. It was fuckin’ decent money.” Masterton’s accent didn’t waver.

  “You’re lying. You wouldn’t be here if you really killed them. And now you want more money to lie about Landon?”

  “Hey, dude, it was just a job. You wanna get mad? Get mad at the guy who hired me.”

  “I can’t believe it was Landon.”

  “I got the proof for you.”

  “You’re trying to mess with us. Proof?”

  “Him ordering the hit, in his very own words. Pay me a hundred grand, and the recording’s yours. You’re fucking that sheriff, right? Give it to him, and Landon’s toast.”

  Suddenly there was a click-rasp of the door and Landon’s voice, farther from Masterton than Will’s, said, “He’s lying.”

  Will’s “Landon!” and Masterton’s “What the fuck?” came out together. There was some scrambling sound. Then Masterton said, “You double crossed me, cowboy? You want me to take my truck all through this place and smash it flat?”

  “I didn’t!” Will said. “I don’t know what he’s doing here.”

  “Protecting myself.” Landon still sounded calm. “Against lies.”

  There was some rustling over the mike.

  Get out of the building, William! Will had promised to say “I’m done with this” and leave, the moment Landon showed up. There was no legal handgun in Landon’s name but guns were easy to come by. Ruiz was hiding there as backup, and Masterton could handle himself, but Kevlar or not, Casey wanted Will out.

  Masterton said, “You didn’t want to buy this before. Now? The price of this thumb drive has gone up.”

  Will said. “Wait!” He still sounded way too close to Masterton’s mike.

  “It’s not real anyway.” Landon’s voice was further away. Between Will and the door? “You can’t believe a word he says.”

  Masterton said, “Hey, I owned up to being your hired gun. I ain’t lying.”

  “I didn’t hire you, you son of a bitch!”

  “Should I play a bit of the recording? Show the cowboy? I got it on my phone too.”

  Will said, “Sure. Yeah.”

  Damn it, Will, quit antagonizing the bastard and get out. But so far, Landon hadn’t given them clear enough evidence to take to court. Casey was torn, wanting it over, wanting them to talk more. Come on, you motherfucker, give us a real confession.

  Masterton managed a deep chuckle. “You can both bid for it. I like that.”

  “Fuck you!” Landon’s voice rose. “You could’ve faked anything. Don’t listen to him, Rice.”

  “How ’bout this?” Over the wire, a slightly scratchy recording of Landon saying “—I need you to—” could be heard. It was taken from the phone conversation with Will, but hopefully Landon wouldn’t remember.

  Will said, “That sounds like his voice.”

  “I told you, he’s trying to blackmail me.” Landon’s pitch rose. “He’s crazy.”

  Will said, “I’m out of here.”

  “Wait!” Landon’s voice rose, but Casey heard the door creak open and thud shut.

  On the other channel, the observer murmured, “Rice is clear.” Casey took a deep breath and relaxed a fraction.

  Masterton said, “You idiot. I’m leaving too. You lose.”

  Landon’s voice dropped. “Don’t move!”

  “Are you holding a gun on me?” Masterton asked. “You don’t think this is the only copy, do you? You kill me and this goes viral.”

  “Fuck you!” It sounded like Landon was kicking something. “Fuck you! I paid you.”

  Yes! Casey almost cheered out loud. He started the car, cruising forward slowly. End-game was coming.

  Masterton’s voice was admirably steady. “Chump change. You didn’t tell me you had two million dollars coming. You need to share the wealth. Price is now five hundred grand.”

  “I already owed most of the two mil,” Landon said. “It’s gone. I don’t have that kind of money now. Anyway, you’ll just come back for more.”

  “Five K a month, then. You can afford that. As long as you keep me sweet on the installment plan, I got no reason to go elsewhere.”

  “I could shoot you and take my chances with the recording. Tell them you attacked me. Rice’s word and mine against you, and you’ll be dead.”

  “And the recording will send you to the chair. You’re gonna take that chance?” Masterton snorted. “I’m leaving. The fuckin’ sheriff’s about to crash this party. I’ll be in touch. You should’ve paid me the first time.”

  “We’ll take this elsewhere. You drive. Go on, walk ahead of me.”

  Casey could tell Landon was close to the edge, ragged breathing shaking his voice audibly even over the wire. Casey wanted to tell Ruiz to wrap it up before Landon snapped and started shooting, but this was the wrong time to jog his deputy’s elbow.

  “Go where? Won’t change anything. You’re screwed unless you pay me.”

  “Give me your phone. And the thumb drive. Now!”

  “Easy, calm down. Here—oops.” Sudden rustling suggested Masterton had dropped the thumb drive and crouched to get it, his planned signal to pull the plug on the charade.

  Ruiz’s voice came loud and clear. “Freeze!”

  “What? Shit!” Landon yelped.

  Over loud rustling, Masterton said, “Move in!” in his regular voice. That would get the deputies in the truck running toward the pumphouse.

  Casey strained to make sense of the scuffles, grunts, and mutters as he put the pedal to the metal. He heard the slam of a door. Then Ruiz said breathlessly, “Good job, Masterton. Read him his rights, Forell.”

  Jenny Forell’s cool tones reciting the Miranda warning were enough to let Casey ease off the gas. The roads were still slippery. No point in getting himself smeared across a ditch before he got to see Landon in cuffs.

  His phone rang with Will’s tone, and he grabbed it out of the cupholder. “Hey, you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I think Landon has a gun!”

  “He did. Good work getting out. He’s busted now, so we’re done. You stay clear.”

  “He’s under arrest?”

  “Yeah. Jenny Forell just got done reading him his rights.”

  “Then it’s safe to go back? I need to see him.” Will hung up.

  “Damn it, Will, what did stay clear mean
to you?” He was only a minute away now. Not close enough to stop Will, but close enough to be right on his heels as he shoved his way ahead of Casey into the small dank space.

  Will stopped in front of Landon, who was standing with his hands cuffed and Ruiz gripping his arm. “Why?” Will’s voice broke, then steadied. “Why’d you have to kill them.”

  “This is a set-up. He killed them.” Landon pointed at Masterton.

  Casey told Masterton, “Take off the facemask.” As his deputy pulled off the black wool hat, Casey added to Landon, “Allow me to introduce you to Deputy Bob Masterton, aka not the truck driver.”

  Landon’s gaze flashed to Casey “You! Fuck you and your faggot love nest.” He stared back at Will. “And you, conning my grandparents out of half my money.”

  Will took a step closer, fists clenched at his sides. “I loved them, and the ranch. I worked the place twenty years, in the sun and the snow and the muck.”

  “You belong in the muck—”

  Will kept going over Landon’s sneer. “I never asked for a penny over my wages. Where were you? Off in the city losing a fortune at cards? Buying fancy shoes? How could you lose that kind of money?”

  “An investment. A temporary setback. You wouldn’t understand.”

  “And you were willing to do anything to get it? Kill them for two million dollars? I’d have given all that and more to save them.”

  Landon’s lip curled. “You were broke, an ignorant bum when they took you in. All you ever did was take from them. Stupid, faggot loser, and they always gave you more. And now you’re rich. Don’t tell me you’re sorry.”

  “Graham and Annmarie gave us equal shares.” There was sadness in Will’s voice but Casey didn’t move. Landon would remember soon enough that he should be silent. Every bit of this might help them lock the fuckwad up and throw away the key.

  Landon laughed bitterly. “I was their only grandson, their flesh and blood. I had a right to it all! You were nothing. Dirt.”

  “I was the guy who loved the same things they did.”

  “You know what you loved?” Landon snarled. “You loved getting fucked up the ass by men. Shit! I told Grandfather. Months ago. I told him you were a fag, and he just shrugged it off. Said you were the best man with a horse he’d ever seen. That you deserved to inherit a share of the place, one day. He knew I’d understand! I had to move fast.”