Mann Hunt, page 18
“I’m just gathering as much information as I can.”
“Why are you doing this, and not the cops?” Chalmers asked.
“They have their own version of what happened to Ian Mann. His wife has a different idea, and she hired me to find out what happened. I’m consulting with the police, though. Coach Chalmers, I’m hoping you can help me get some information about Ian’s death.”
“Sure. Whatever you need.”
“I saw on your website that you’ve got a summer training camp coming up next week.”
“What of it?”
“I want to put one of my people on the ice with your team.”
Chalmers snorted. “You think it’s that easy? These guys are some of the best players around.”
“My assistant will pass for eighteen or nineteen, and he played hockey in university.”
Chalmers was silent.
Declan continued, “It may be our best chance at getting a lead on finding out who did this to Ian. And, if we find nothing, it’ll clear the team of any involvement.”
Chalmers took another sip of coffee. “And you say he can play? If he can’t, they’ll spot it the minute he steps on the ice.”
“Just tell them he’s here to try out for the team. Nothing more. You’re doing it as a favour for Katherine in memory of Ian. That way, if he can’t play as well as I say he can, there’s no harm, no foul. Nothing’ll reflect badly on you.”
Chalmers stared hard at Declan. “Tell him to come for the skills practice Monday afternoon. I’ll need him at the arena for three p.m. If he’s late, he’s out.”
Chalmers finished his last swig of coffee and walked out of the diner. Declan picked up the phone.
“Charlie, you’re in.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Charlie arrived at his parent’s house just as dinner was being served. His grandmother and father were already seated. Charlie’s usual place at the table had not been set.
“So, you run out the door last night, but you still come back to eat our food,” his mother said, standing at the stove.
He knew the look on her face. She was hurt.
“I’m sorry for last night,” Charlie said. “I was upset.”
“I don’t doubt you were, all banged up like that,” his mother replied.
The two at the table remained silent. Gran stared at Charlie. His father stared at the table. Charlie’s mother stood with a pot in her hands. “Did you go to the hospital, at least?”
“I was checked over. It’s just bruising.” It’s just a little white lie.
She put down the pot and got him some cutlery, setting it at his place beside Gran. It was only then that he felt he could sit down. Gran patted him on his knee and smiled. His father stared at his plate of pasta.
It wasn’t until his mother sat with the family that Charlie’s father looked up at him. Charlie could see that he was still angry.
“So,” his dad said, “where did you stay last night?”
“With a friend.”
“If you want to live under this roof, you’re gonna follow my rules, do you understand?”
Charlie chewed his lower lip.
“Do you understand?” he yelled and slammed his fist down on the table.
“What are these rules?” Charlie yelled back. “I don’t know what they are. I’ve never seen them. Is there a handbook I should know about?”
“You want to know what the rules are? Fine. Rule number one—give your mother the respect she deserves. Rule number two—quit that damned job of yours and get one you’re trained for. Do you have any idea how much money we spent putting you through university, only to have it thrown away by you deciding to play detective when you have no idea what you’re doing?”
“For Christ’s sake,” Charlie shot back. “It’s only a short-term contract, and I’m not sure if you noticed, but no one is beating down the door to hire me in spite of my degree.”
His mother said, “I think what your father is worried about is that this job might be too dangerous.”
“I’m subbing in for a sixty-eight-year-old. How dangerous do you think the job is?”
There was no response from his parents.
Charlie continued, “But I tell you one thing, in the week I’ve been there, I’ve felt more useful and achieved more than at any other job I’ve had, and, if for some reason I was to be offered the job full time, I would take it in a second.”
“That’s enough,” his father snapped.
“For once we agree on something,” Charlie said, pushing his chair back and heading towards the basement.
As he left he could hear Gran say, “Leave him be, Ted. He needs some space.”
Charlie went to his bedroom and stuffed as many clothes as he could into his backpack. Then he went to the crawl space under the stairs and hauled out his hockey bag. He opened it and saw that everything was there, but from the odour coming from the bag he knew he’d have to freshen some of it up before practice on Monday.
He lugged the heavy bag, three hockey sticks and his backpack to the front door and threw them out onto the porch before he noticed Gran standing in the hall. She looked so small, and her eyes were teary, but there was a smile on her face. He went to her and gave her a big hug.
“’Your time has come, Charlie.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s time to get out there and live your own life. You’re a man now and you have to make your own decisions, good or bad.”
“What if I’m wrong. What if I totally screw up?”
“Then you’ll be just like the rest of us. And don’t forget, when you walk out the door, it doesn’t mean you won’t be back here at some time. They already let you come back once. I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but you’ll be welcomed back with open arms again. They love you. They just have to get used to the fact that you’re your own man now.”
Charlie threw his arms around her again and gave her another kiss.
He loaded the gear into the trunk of The Red Beast, then plopped into the driver’s seat. What next?
He pulled out his phone and called Carrie. The phone rang four times. Please let her pick up.
On the fifth ring she answered. “Hey, Charlie.”
“Where were you last night?” Charlie asked.
“Working late. What’s wrong?”
“Do I only call when something’s wrong?”
“Lately…yes.”
“Can I stay with you for a while?”
“Hmm… Let me think.”
“Sorry. You probably have someone with you. Don’t worry. I’ll—”
She didn’t let him finish. “You idiot, even if I did, you take priority. Now, get your ass over here.”
Charlie drove over and in fifteen minutes was parked in front of Carrie’s house. She greeted Charlie at the door as he waddled up the front steps, unbalanced by the bulky hockey bag and gear.
“Crap. How much stuff do you have?”
“This is it.”
Carrie gave Charlie a hand carrying the sports bag up to her second-floor apartment. Once upstairs, she dropped it in the middle of the living room.
“Before you say anything, I’m pouring the wine.”
Carrie lit a few candles and turned off the overhead light. The next hour flew by as Charlie filled her in on what had happened over the previous week, and what was going to happen next as they polished off several glasses of wine. Charlie finished by lifting his shirt and showing Carrie the bruises on his chest that were beginning to turn purple.
“Oh my God!” she said. “I know you think Declan’s the hottest guy on the planet, but is he worth it? Your folks are right. This job is dangerous.”
Charlie frowned. “Your role right now is to support me, not to agree with my parents. That’s what a best friend does.”
“A best friend tries to stop you from getting killed. Come on. It’s late. Let’s get you to bed.”
As they headed off to Carrie’s bedroom Charlie asked, “Can we do some laundry tomorrow?”
“We? Yes, you can. And while you’re at it, you can do mine as well.”
Once the lights were out, they snuggled in bed.
“I like having you over,” Carrie said. “Straight guys just don’t snuggle as well as you do.” After a few minutes of silence Carrie asked, “So, you and the detective… Nothing yet?”
“He gave me a kiss on the forehead last night when he put me to bed. Oh, and a sloppy wet kiss last week when he was drunk, if that counts.”
“Does it count with you?”
“Hell yeah,” he said, and the two of them broke into giggles.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Charlie had spent his first full day at Carrie’s doing laundry, practising driving his car and taking her out to brunch. Being out of his parents’ place had lifted the dark cloud that had hung over him since he’d moved back over a month ago. He knew he couldn’t live with Carrie forever, but until he could afford a place on his own, this would be perfect. But that was yesterday. Today his mood was decidedly different.
Charlie hadn’t slept well. He was excited about the chance to go undercover and prove himself to Declan. He snuck out of bed, careful not to wake Carrie. Charlie took a quick shower, got dressed in the living room and wolfed down a couple of pieces of cold pizza. Then he grabbed his car and headed off to work. He’d packed all of his clean gear and a few changes of clothes in the trunk the night before.
The trip in went smoothly. The skill of driving standard was coming back to him and he made it to the office just as Gwen was unlocking the door to her café.
“The usual for you?” she asked as she made her way towards the counter.
“You bet.” Charlie had a huge grin on his face.
From behind the counter Gwen said, “You seem pretty cheery this morning.”
“It’s a brand-new week, new adventures await,” Charlie said as he propped himself on the back of a chair. “And, I moved in with a friend of mine—”
“Oh?” Gwen said, arching her eyebrows. “Do I sense a hint of romance?”
“Nothing like that,” Charlie said. “Carrie and I have been friends forever.”
“Well, congratulations anyway.”
Gwen finished frothing the milk for his order and passed over a cup and a small bag.
Charlie took his latte and pastry and headed up to the office.
He stopped at the street-level door. His stomach was filled with butterflies. Last time he’d been undercover it hadn’t gone so well. Charlie took a deep breath and walked up the stairs.
Declan was sitting at the desk in his office. He stood as Charlie entered. Rather than his usual well-fitting clothes, Declan was wearing worn jeans and a plain work shirt. Charlie, on the other hand, had dressed in a shirt, tie and his newest pair of khakis.
“Should I be more dressed like—” he said, pointing to Declan’s clothing.
“No. You’re perfect. You’re dressed to impress, which is what you’re trying to do. I, on the other hand, want to blend in.”
“So, you’re coming with me?” Charlie asked hopefully.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Charlie was relieved. He’d been nervous about taking this on alone.
“Here’s the plan,” Declan said. “Your job is to go up there and try your hardest to get on the team. You’re an eager eighteen-year-old who wants nothing more than to play hockey and make it into the NHL. You’ve heard players on the Axemen get scouted and go up to the big leagues.”
Charlie nodded then asked, “So, what’s my cover name?”
“The best name ever. You’ll be Charlie Watts,” Declan replied with a grin.
“Well, that’s no fun.”
“You’ll be playing yourself, only a little younger. Okay?”
“Okay,” Charlie said, uncertain.
Declan moved around the desk. “You’ll be fine. All you have to do is go in, do whatever you have to do to make yourself look good and try to make a good impression on Justin. If he was attracted to you outside The Greek, I bet he’ll feel the same in the arena, even if he doesn’t remember you from before.”
Charlie frowned. “What if he does remember me?”
“You say you were there for the same reason he was—a bit of fun.” Declan handed Charlie a piece of paper. “Now, I know it’s not far from home, but I’ve booked you into a hotel. Here’s your reservation.”
Charlie glanced at the paper. “Do I have to stay there?”
“Yes,” Declan replied. “That way you can go out with the guys after practice, stay as late as you need to and not worry about sleeping in and missing practice.”
“That makes sense.”
Declan continued, “I want you to listen for anything they might have to say about Justin or Ian Mann. If something comes up, don’t try to remember it, just text me the details. If anybody asks, you’re just texting a friend.”
Charlie sank into a chair. “What if something goes wrong? I mean really wrong?” Charlie asked.
Declan knelt down beside him. “I’ll be watching to make sure nothing bad happens. And if you’re spooked, just text me.”
“I just don’t want to disappoint you.”
Declan put his hand on Charlie’s leg and leaned in closer. “I don’t think that’s possible.”
Charlie stopped breathing. He wanted the moment to last forever. Declan broke his reverie when he stood and walked out into the reception area. Charlie shook his head and followed.
“So,” Declan said in a matter-of-fact tone, “you’ve got the address of the hotel you’re staying at, and you know the plan. Do you need anything else?”
“I’m good. I check into the hotel first, grab some lunch and then get to the arena by two-thirty—early enough to show I’m serious, but not too early to make me look like a pussy.”
“I don’t recall actually putting it that way.”
“I’m channelling my inner eighteen-year-old.”
Declan put his hand on Charlie’s back and walked him down to the Red Beast.
“Declan?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for trusting me with this.”
“No problem. So, are you ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Charlie smiled, got into his car then burned rubber as he peeled off down the street.
* * * *
Forty-five minutes later, Charlie pulled into the Airdrie Comfort Inn just off of the highway. He was excited. This was the first time he’d been away on the road by himself.
He discovered that Declan had prepaid the room. After checking in, Charlie unpacked his suitcase and scoped out his accommodation. It was basic with a small fridge, which to Charlie’s disappointment didn’t contain any tiny bottles of booze.
He stopped in at the restaurant next door for a light pre-practice lunch, then headed out for his undercover mission.
When Charlie pulled into the parking lot of the Alconco Arena, he was surprised to find a dozen cars already parked there.
Shit, if I’m late…
He leapt out, pulled his hockey bag out of the trunk and ran to the front doors. He desperately searched for the change rooms.
“Hey,” a voice yelled out from behind him. Charlie spun around and the momentum of the twenty-five-pound bag sent him spinning into the vending machine.
“Dude, if you’re that hungry, I’ll give you the money. You don’t have to smash the machine.”
Charlie saw a little guy, maybe five-three, at the end of the hall with his arms crossed. “The name’s Todd. I’m Coach Chalmers’ assistant.”
“Am I late? I was told to be here for three.”
“There was a last-minute time change and Coach didn’t know how to reach you. Let me take you to the change room and get you settled.”
Todd dropped Charlie off and showed him his locker. “Come out onto the ice when you’re ready.”
Charlie was annoyed with himself. Great way to make a good first impression.
Once Charlie was in full gear he made his way onto the ice surface. The team was running passing drills. Todd was talking to someone who had to be the coach. The man skated over.
“You must be Charlie. I’m Coach Chalmers.”
“Hey…I’m really sorry—”
“You should’ve given me your number. I couldn’t reach you. We got our time bumped by the arena early this morning. If you’re late again, you’re out.”
“I’ll get you my cell number once we’re done here.”
“Good,” Chalmers said, then yelled out to the others on the ice. “Gimme focus, guys. This is Charlie Watts, who still managed to make it here from Calgary sooner than Dawes and Hedges, wherever the hell they are. Over the next few days, he’ll be trying out for the team. Try not to be your typical dick-assed selves.”
They laughed and skated up in a line, bumping gloved fists with Charlie. The last was Justin Neves, who locked eyes with him and gave him a big smile.
“Okay, Watts. Let’s see what you can do,” Chalmers said.
Whatever awkwardness Charlie had been feeling disappeared once he started to skate. He joined in the passing drills, then a six-station on-ice course of conditioning exercises involving legs, balance, crunches, backwards dips off the net frame to strengthen the triceps, shuttle sprints and ending with push-ups—never his strong suit.
“Come on, Watts. You do push-ups like a five-year-old,” the coach yelled.
Other than the push-ups, he felt he was keeping up with most of the team. Sure, a couple of the muscle-mutts had smoked him, but he wasn’t worried. Speed and accuracy were his strengths and he used those skills to good advantage.
“Okay, MacGregor, you’re in goal. I want you all to form a line and try to get one past him.”
Charlie took the last position. He knew well enough to respect the seniority of the other players. After five attempts, he’d landed four.
At the end of the practice, Coach Chalmers called out, “Good work, guys. Let’s wrap it up for the day. I’ll see you back here tomorrow morning at eight sharp. Watts, come and see me.”
