That was why, with a quick apology to Jay and directions on a few questions he should ask should the opportunity arise, Holly hurried after the rookie. His long strides had given him a pretty good head start.
When he disappeared around a corner at the end of the hallway, Holly took a quick moment to stop and take off her pumps. Television shows that portrayed their women detectives chasing down perps while wearing high-heeled boots were such a load of crap, she decided. She resumed her chase, more sure-footed and quiet with her shoes safely in hand.
The hallway came to a T intersection, and Holly stopped for a second, debating which way to go. She decided any direction was better than no direction. She arbitrarily went left. When she got to the end of that hallway, she came to a skidding halt outside the occupied room, not at all prepared for what she found.
J.C. had his hands up to protect his face, ducking and covering as his fiancée screamed and swung her fancy designer purse like a flail.
"I can't believe you did this!"
Whack.
"I can't believe you would do this to me! To the baby! How am I supposed to show my face with the other hockey wives?" Whack. "Why would you sell the Porsche? Who's going to take us seriously driving some low-end four-door!"
"Come on, Tania. Quit hitting me with your purse already!"
"I'm going to be a laughingstock."
Holly tore her attention from the fighting couple, backing away slowly, trying to leave unnoticed.
She almost made it, too, but Tania gave a particularly wild swing of her bag, and J.C.'s gaze caught hers. She didn't even break stride. She just spun and ran.
Cowardly? Maybe, but she was hot on the trail of a suspect, and Tania's brand of a woman scorned was more than she cared to deal with right now.
Obviously, Sillinger had gone in the opposite direction, so she hurried back to where she'd lost him and turned the other way.
She was relieved that it did not take long to locate his nasally whine.
"What the hell, man? I thought we had a deal! I told you, I just need a little more time!"
Holly stopped short at the outburst. Her scalp prickled at the realization that this might be the break she'd been searching for. She tried to recall the harsh whisper that had echoed off the tiles in the Storm's bathroom. Had it been the rookie all along?
"Dude, you can't do this to me. I'll get you your money. Just give me a week. Two, tops. My mom'll help me out. She's in Vegas on vacation or I'd have your cash right now."
Holly frowned and leaned forward to peek around the corner.
Brett shoved a hand in his dark curls, his knuckles white, he was clutching his hair so tightly. He pressed his back against the concrete wall, then slid down until he was sitting on the rubber floor.
"You don't understand. The Lamborghini's all I've got. My teammates think I'm a joke. This is the only thing I've ever done to impress them. Just give me a couple of weeks. I'll get you your money."
There was a long moment of silence, followed by, "Yeah. I understand you've got a business to run. Whatever."
He swore, then slammed his phone on the ground before wrapping his arms around his legs and dropping his forehead to his knees. All in all, it was quite a dramatic show.
"Brett?"
He started like she'd hit him with a cattle prod. He scrambled to his feet. The pout on his face made him seem even younger than his nineteen years, despite the pitiful beard.
"How long have you been there, Holly? What did you hear?"
Holly shook her head and started toward him slowly with her hand out, like she was approaching a skittish deer. "I just wanted to make sure you're okay."
"No, Holly. Actually, I'm not okay. I just found out they're repossessing my Lamborghini, so life pretty much sucks balls right now."
She did her best not to laugh.
After such an intensely emotional weekend with Luke, his parents, Ethan...the idea that a nineteen-year-old hockey player making a salary that most people could only dream of, herself included, was pouting like a child because he couldn't make the payments on his Lamborghini seemed the height of absurdity to her. Talk about your first-world problems.
She stared at the simpering man-child before her and mentally crossed his name off the suspect list. A man raking in extra money by betting on his team wouldn't have to ask for money from his mother. Even more damning was Brett's complete inability to deal with surprises.
Point-shaving was a delicate balance, especially in a low-scoring game like hockey. The idea that the kid before her had the chops to handle and manipulate a rink full of veteran hockey players was ridiculous. Truthfully, she was a little embarrassed she'd put him on the suspect list at all.
"You're not gonna tell the team, are you? About my Lambo getting repossessed?"
"No. I'm not going to tell them about your Lambo," she said dully.
"Okay, great. Maybe I can make up a story about how I totaled it or something. That would make me sound cool."
Holly let Brett disappear around the corner so she wouldn't have to walk back to the dressing room with him. Then she put her high heels on again to slow her down even further.
The dressing room was packed. She sidled up to Jay as soon as she spotted him. "What'd I miss?"
He shook his head. "No idea where J.C. is. I scored some face time with Eric and Doug, asked them the stuff you wanted for the ‘How Well Do You Know Your Teammate?' segment. We're up next with Luke, after Baniuk finishes with him."
Holly watched Corey and his cameraman set up the shot and launch right into the interview.
"I'm Corey Baniuk from Portland News Now. Here with me is the Storm's captain, Luke Maguire. Luke, Sports Nation has recently published an article saying that your play, in particular, might be suffering because it's your first time in the play-offs since your brother, former Wisconsin center Ethan Maguire, took a brutal hit in the post-season three years ago. What do you have to say to those allegations?"
Shit.
Holly had hoped she'd have a chance to warn Luke before the article hit the media. John must have pressed "publish" the moment he got off the phone with her.
Why hadn't she said something to Luke after dinner? On their way home? After they'd made love? Because she was a coward, that's why. And she'd wanted to enjoy what she had with him as long as possible.
The color drained from Luke's face for a split second before it returned with a vengeance. "No comment. We're done." He pushed past the camera and headed for the exit.
Holly hurried after him, but instead of the hunt she'd endured with Brett, she found Luke pacing in the hallway right outside the dressing room door.
She couldn't keep the concern from her voice. "Are you okay?"
"I just need a minute."
"I saw what just happened with Corey Baniuk, Luke. You don't have to be fine. He coldcocked you. That was way out of line."
Luke just shrugged. "Rumor has it Baniuk's about to inherit the anchor desk. I should have expected him to go for the jugular on that interview, go out in a blaze of glory."
He took a breath. "Besides, Baniuk's not the problem. He was just the first reporter to get a crack at me. The problem is the damn Sports Nation article." Luke shook his head. "It's going to dredge up all the Ethan questions again. That guy really hit me where I live."
He lowered his voice, leaned toward her, and Holly could only hope he couldn't smell the culpability rolling off her in waves.
Luke continued. "The article talks about how my scoring drought started on the same day the team was mathematically guaranteed a play-off spot. This guy just laid out all my neuroses. I don't even get how he could figure out half that stuff. Much as it hurts to admit it, it's a really professional and well-written article. No cheap shots, just facts.
"It's probably for the best he didn't have the balls to sign his name to the thing. I'm not sure if I should pay him for the therapy or punch him in the face."
Luke shook out his hands. He was moving around a lot.
Holly, on the other hand, was frozen to the spot under a blizzard of remorse and shame. How had she thought taking her name off the article would ease the impact? She should have fought harder to keep it from being published in the first place. Again, coward.
Luke didn't seem to notice her anxiety. "Anyway, the article doesn't matter. What matters is that I've got a game tonight and I need to calm down and get back in the zone."
He drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "We really have to win tonight. Any advice?"