Slap Shot(48)

“They’ve seen them?”

“Well, not all of them, but Brick was there when Rick found one on his windshield last month. He told me if he hadn’t already met me it would have scared him off women forever to know they can think up stuff like that.”

I wrung my gloved fingers together. “Yes, she’s a psycho, but the police picked her up yesterday so she’s off the scene, thank goodness. Perhaps they’ll send her to rehab or something, I don’t know.”

Carly smiled. “That’s great news, great news all around for Rick. He’s a wonderful guy, he deserves to find happiness. Been living in that big house on his own for far too long with just his nieces and nephews for company.”

“You know him well, then?”

“Yeah, he’s been a good friend to Brick. Well, him and Phoenix both have. I guess they’re just that much older.” She glanced at me, wondering if she’d said something wrong.

Smiling I said, “He’s been talking about what to do when his hockey days come to an end. Sounds like he’s got plenty of ideas.”

“All to do with hockey, no doubt.”

“Yes.” Looking over the rink I spotted him dragging his stick between another player’s legs to scoop up the puck. “I can’t imagine he’ll ever not be involved with hockey in some context.” He spun in a microsecond and raced along the ice, dodging several eager defenders.

“So how are we set for Saturday?” Carly asked, taking a white knitted hat from her pocket and tugging it over her sleek, black hair.

“Great, not far off at all. I found a gold-painted chariot complete with armored horse and I’ve primed the photographer to take a shot of everyone, in couples, standing on it as they arrive. I thought, and this is up to you of course, that you could give the photographs out in frames when you send thank you cards for any engagement presents you get.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh yes, that sounds great. It’s always so hard to know what to get people, but I bet not many have a picture of themselves standing on a chariot all dressed up.”

The feeling of having made the right call grew warm in my belly and I began to tell her about the other details of the party. The catering was organized, the security company booked to man the gate and several huge urns of flowers would be delivered in the morning.

Before I knew it the guys were heading off the ice and an hour had gone past.

“We were heading to Ciao’s too,” Carly said. “Perhaps we could all eat together.”

“That would be lovely,” I said, standing. “I’m going to head to the restroom first though.”

“It’s just down there. Come on, I’ll show you.” Carly stood and together we made our way down the steps. As we reached the corridor, her cell rang to the tune of Strawberries and Screams. “Sorry,” she said, grinning. “That’ll be Brick. It’s our song.”

I waved not to worry and headed through a door printed with a picture of a woman in a short flared skirt holding a hockey stick.

Ducking into the first cubicle, I quickly relived myself then stepped out. After washing my hands in foamy, anti-bac soap I dried them and reached for my lip balm. The thought of lunch with Carly and Brick was nice. I was kind of hoping it would just be Rick and me, but there were going to be times I’d have to share him.

I leaned forward and studied my reflection. My mascara hadn’t dribbled and my hair was still fluffy and neat despite the cold atmosphere. A sudden movement over my right shoulder caught my eye. My gaze shifted in the mirror. Behind me stood a woman with lank, greasy blonde hair.

My heart rate picked up.

My breath hitched in my chest.

The crazed look in her brilliant blue eyes sent a chill to the very core of my soul.

I spun around, lip balm in hand.

She raised her arm and directed a small silver gun at my chest.

Suddenly my entire world slipped into slow motion. Fear coursed through my veins, adrenaline flooded my system. The lip balm fell to the floor and rolled away. I felt as though my feet had been taken from under me.

“Hello, Dana,” the woman said, in a steely, sarcastic voice as one side of her mouth lifted in a sneer. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“What…what do you want?” I managed, unable to take my gaze off the round black eye of the gun staring straight at me.

She took a step closer. I pressed back into the sink and gripped it hard.

“What a stupid question,” she said with a snarl. “As if you don’t already know.”

I swallowed, but it was hard to, my throat had constricted, my mouth was bone-dry. “I…I don’t…know. Who are you?” Any moment now she was going to pull the trigger, a bullet would pierce my chest, take my life. The end was here.