Playing to Win(31)

       
           


       

Dazed, she walked toward his jacket, askew on the chair back, just as  he'd left it. A folded piece of yellow legal paper poked out of the  inside breast pocket.

She unfolded it to find a list of letters and numbers in stark black ink.

And just like that, her perfect morning crumbled.

It can't be Luke.

The man who was so sweet and thoughtful, the man who needed hockey to  breathe, surely he wouldn't do something that could earn him a lifetime  ban from the game he loved?

And yet there were other things-his parents' modest dwelling and pile  of bills, Ethan's intense physio regime and state-of-the-art equipment,  the fact that a hockey player who should have adequate funds had said  things like "money's tight" and "I can't have this traced back to me."  Something wasn't quite adding up there. She'd tried her best to find a  more viable suspect, but something always cleared them.

Brett Sillinger had pouted when his Lamborghini got repoed.

J.C. LaCroix had done the responsible thing and downgraded to a family car because he had a baby on the way.

And Eric Jacobs, who'd been her least likely suspect in the first  place, had apparently been dealing with some intense family issues that  correlated with his slightly-below-average play-off showing.

Luke, on the other hand...

Holly sat on the edge of the bed, the over/under list clenched in her fist.

He'd shown up in the bathroom moments after she'd found the betting sheet, and his ringtone matched the mystery man's.

His truck was nice, but in the grand scheme of luxury vehicles, it was  pretty low on the scale for a six-year veteran who was currently earning  almost two million a year.

His parents must've invested huge amounts of money into making their  old house fully accessible, not to mention the cost of Ethan's physio  studio and medical bills. And she'd heard several sports outlets  reporting that Brad Timmons had recently filed for bankruptcy, which  meant the Maguires were receiving no financial help from the man  responsible for their money woes.

And she'd caught Luke twice now in the midst of suspicious-sounding  phone calls, the most recent one specifically about untraceable money.

She didn't want to believe it. Luke loved the game and he was fiercely  protective of his teammates. It was beyond comprehension that he would  jeopardize his career or his team's integrity this way.

But even as she thought it, she knew there was one thing he loved more  than hockey-his family. He would do whatever it took to take care of  them. Manipulating the games a little was an easy way to help pay down  his family's debts, to take care of his parents and his little brother.

And maybe that straight-arrow reputation he'd built up-the one that  made her doubt he was capable of it-was the key to getting away with the  crime. He had the perfect cover.

She had to ask him.

She was in love with Luke and she owed him the truth about her  suspicions, the right to defend himself, to give his side of the story.  Before she exposed it to the world.





14

"LUKE, CAN WE TALK?"

He'd barely stepped back into the bedroom after a massive fight with  his brother's bank. The somber note in Holly's voice made the hair on  his arms stand up. "Sure, yeah."

He took a seat on the corner of the bed opposite her. "What's going on, Holly? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," she said, but she backtracked immediately. "No. It's not, actually." She sighed.

They made eye contact and he didn't like what he saw there.

"Luke, I'm just worried about you. I know you've had some money trouble."

"What?"

"You were obviously speaking with a bank just now. And I get it. Your  family is amazing. And they needed your help, but manipulating hockey  games...that's a dangerous road to start down. So if it's about  money..."

His muscles tensed and his jaw hardened. This wasn't a talk. It was a  cross-check after the whistle. The kind that left permanent damage.

"What are you trying to say?" His eyes dropped to the yellow paper  clutched in her fingers. He shot to his feet, eyes lighting on his suit  jacket, askew on the chair. "Have you been going through my things?"                       
       
           


       

"I found a list, Luke. When I was in the Storm bathroom that day that  we kissed. This list. And aside from the first one, every single  play-off game has ended with the same over/under as the list predicted.  That's not a coincidence. Someone is manipulating the games."

"And you're accusing me?"

Her silence was all the answer he needed. Luke experienced a moment of  full-body pins and needles and then...nothing. Numbness settled over him  with a finality that reminded him of death. "You believe I would do  that." It wasn't really a question, since she'd already said as much.  More of a reckoning.

"Luke, I know how important your family is to you. You'd do anything it took to make sure they're okay."

He raked a hand through his hair. "But this? After all we've been  through? I kept your secret! I introduced you to the people who mean the  most to me in this world. I fell in love with you, Holly."

She looked like he'd punched her. That stricken reaction to the words  he'd wanted to say for longer than he was willing to admit was the final  nail in the relationship that had turned his world upside down. "And  this is what you think of me."

Her brown eyes were swimming in unshed tears, and her chin trembled as she fought to hold them back. "Luke, the evidence-"

"Fuck the evidence! I would never do what you just accused me of! Not  for any amount of money. I wouldn't do that to my family. I wouldn't do  that to my guys. We're a team, Holly. We trust each other. We back each  other up. I can see you don't know anything about that, but that's how  we operate. It's how we win games and it's how we lose games. Together."

"But the stats, and that phone call about untraceable money and Ethan's top-of-the-line rehab equipment..."

"That's your reasoning? Let me tell you something about money. Pro  hockey players make around three hundred thousand dollars a year in the  first three years of their contract. Unless they get paralyzed. Then  they make nothing. But they still have to live, Holly. They need money  to eat, to buy a wheelchair, to pay for medical bills and specialists  and daily physio. Whatever it takes for the chance to walk again.

"The parents of an injured pro have to remortgage their house when they  should be gearing up for retirement, because sidewalks have to be  widened, ramps have to be built and garages have to be converted into  rehab facilities. A paralyzed player needs a new van to accommodate a  wheelchair. And when things start looking bleaker and bleaker, he has to  figure out how to finance a car with hand controls so that a broken  hockey player can live the fulfilling, independent life he deserves,  even if he doesn't regain full use of his legs.

"So, yeah. Money's tight. My paycheck might have a few zeroes on the  end of it right now, but there are millions of dollars of catching up to  do. And the secrecy? The phone call you overheard? That was just for  Ethan's pride. Because he's already struggling with accepting physical  help, and I didn't want him to know about the financials, that the  bastard who ruined his life claimed bankruptcy and that all his money is  coming from me.

"He needs to focus on recovering, on himself, not worrying about his  family. And maybe I should have told him. But I'm his big brother and  it's my job to protect him. I didn't do it on the ice that day, but I've  damn well done whatever it takes to make up for it ever since. And  that's my call. Not yours."

She was trembling now, and he hardened himself against her imploring  eyes. "I'm sorry, Luke. I can see I made a mistake. I just wanted to  bring my concerns to you. To be honest with you. And I realize this is  hard to hear, but every prediction on the list I found has come true  save one, and that is not coincidence. If it's not you, it's somebody  else on the team."

His protectiveness roared up with a vengeance. "Leave my guys out of this!"

"I won't!" She came to her feet then, too, and the change in her, from  meek acceptance of his lecture to formidable warrior ready for battle,  was startling. "I sat here and I listened to your side. Just because you  have an explanation for my evidence does not mean it was ridiculous, so  don't you dare stand there and demean it. I'm an excellent reporter,  Luke.                       
       
           


       

"I do my homework and I test my hypotheses. Just because my conclusion  about you was proven false, doesn't let your team off the hook. This  list still belongs to somebody who used the Storm bathroom that day."  She held it up, and it trembled because her hand was also trembling.