Delay of Game

by Tracey Richardson

  Calmer now, Kathleen said, “What are you going to do? And what can I do?”

  “I’m going to wait and see if Niki finds out anything at practice. If she doesn’t, I’m prepared to blow the roof off everything.”

  Kathleen’s eyebrows shot into her forehead. “How?”

  “By holding the biggest press conference these Games has seen so far. And I’ll tell them everything I know.” It was a bold step and one that could and probably would permanently destroy any future she might have with hockey on a national or even collegiate level. But it beat the hell out of watching a team cheat its way to victory. And it might give her a small measure of consolation for suffering through another injury, one viciously inflicted by her own teammate this time.

  “You’ve got nothing to lose, I suppose. And it just might smoke out the rats.”

  “Will you help me, Kath? Are you willing to stand up there beside me and verify everything I’m saying?” It was asking a lot, and she wouldn’t take it personally if her friend said no.

  The doctor returned, knocking lightly before barging in with a set of crutches. “Two weeks with these, I’m afraid. And I have a prescription for you to help with the pain.”

  “No,” Eva said before she had a chance to reconsider. “I don’t need any pills, thanks. I’ll be fine.”

  “Suit yourself. Take some over-the-counter NSAIDs. And see your regular doctor in a couple of weeks, okay?”

  “I will,” she promised, taking the crutches and placing them under her arms.

  The doctor led the way, Eva hobbling behind him and Kathleen taking up the rear. There were reporters hanging around, the doctor had warned them, because of a downhill skiing crash earlier in the day involving a medal favorite.

  “I can get you out a side exit,” he said over his shoulder. “I had one of our receptionists call a cab for you.”

  “Thank you,” Eva replied. “I appreciate all—”

  “Hey, that’s Eva Caruso.”

  Shit. From the corner of her eye she saw a video camera swing in her direction and a reporter, a woman with unnaturally blond hair and wearing expensive boots, rush toward her.

  “No questions,” the doctor said, positioning himself between the reporter and Eva.

  Ignoring him, the reporter peppered Eva with questions: How had she been hurt? Did she have a broken leg? Was she out of the Games?

  Eva shook her head and kept hobbling toward the exit. Outside, she turned to Kathleen. “Get that woman’s card, would you? In case I need to talk to her later.”

  “You got it. And Eva? Of course I’ll stand beside you if you need to call a press conference.”

  Eva nodded, too tired and too overwhelmed to smile. She was lucky to have good people in her life. And that was worth far more than a medal. If karma existed, people like Dani and Alison would end up miserable one day, if they weren’t already. And someday they too wouldn’t have hockey in their lives, except that they’d have no one to comfort them, nothing else to fill the void. She almost felt sorry for them.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Bar Down

  As Niki stepped onto the ice for the practice, she caught sight of the team’s two best players, a defenseman and a forward, sitting in the stands near the bench, dressed in their tracksuits.

  She skated to Lynn, who’d preceded her onto the ice with the rest of the team.

  “What’s with Kennedy and Matthews sitting in the stands?”

  “They’re scratched for tonight’s game.”

  “What?” Niki’s stomached bottomed out. Both women were potential future hall of famers, and without them, tonight’s game would be a much tougher undertaking. Kennedy was averaging three points a game and had more game-winning goals than anyone on the team. Matthews had the team’s best plus-minus and was the quarterback on power plays.

  “Nagging injuries. Kennedy’s got a bad shoulder, Matthews had her bell rung the last game. Best to rest them tonight so they’re good to go for the final.”

  “Doc Stevenson wouldn’t clear them to play tonight?” She’d have received an email memo if that had been the case, but she wasn’t about to let Lynn off the hook.

  “Coach’s decision.” Lynn’s tone made it clear there’d be no further discussion.

  Lynn blew her whistle and directed the group to skate a few laps at an easy pace. Niki skated to the bench and called out to Kennedy and Matthews. “You two okay?” Judging from their sullen expressions, they were not.

  Matching shrugs from both.

  “Are you guys really not up to playing tonight?”

  “Coach wants to rest us,” Kennedy said, looking at her shoes.

  “We can play,” Matthews grumbled. “If she’d let us.”

  It was common practice that you didn’t rest your top players in a sudden-death game unless they were at risk of injuring themselves a hell of a lot worse than they were. Infuriated, Niki stood along the boards, watching the players skate around, then drop to the ice to stretch their muscles. She knew Kennedy and Matthews were drilling hopeful, desperate stares into her back, willing her to do something about their predicament.

  The backup goalie, a rookie, moved into the net to get ready to receive shots. Niki watched as their regular goalie, a proven winner and the team’s unequivocal number one goalie, stood along the boards, watching the play, glancing at Lynn for the signal that it was her turn in the net. It didn’t come. On and on the shooting drills went, with the backup taking all the shots. Unwilling to hold her tongue about yet another inexcusable blunder, Niki approached Lynn.

  “Sutherland’s getting cold standing over there. Why don’t I take a group of players and work her at the other end.”

  “No,” Lynn said. “Sutherland’s not starting tonight.”

  Niki felt her fingers curl into fists. She had to grind her teeth to keep from exploding. With three of the team’s best players sitting out tonight’s game, Lynn had lost it for sure. Or Eva was right and Lynn was sabotaging the game. “And why is that?”

  Lynn chewed her gum with exaggeration, trying to look comfortably authoritative, except she wouldn’t meet Niki’s eyes. “I want her rested for the final. Besides, Graham needs the work. She’ll be fine.”

  “There won’t be a final game for us if we lose tonight,” Niki ground out. “You’re taking some awfully big risks here.”

  “It’ll be fine, you’ll see.”

  “And what if it’s not?” Could Lynn be any more obvious about trying to screw their chances of getting into the final? More to the point, what the hell did Alison have on her that would make her do such a thing?

  “We can beat Finland in our sleep.”

  “Maybe, maybe not without our top players. If we lose tonight, you do realize you’re finished with Hockey Canada. And maybe coaching anything but high school hockey.”

  The smallest flash of discomfort registered in Lynn’s eyes. “You’re overstepping, Hartling. Now go hit the showers and I’ll see you at the game tonight.”

  Niki stormed off, despairing. It was a disaster to have a coach and an assistant coach at loggerheads. And it was going to be a bigger disaster to sit their three best players tonight. Clearly, Lynn was up to something while caring little for personal consequences. If she was willing to sacrifice her reputation, her future, then she was extremely desperate. But short of physically locking her in a room and taking over the bench or conducting some other means of a coup d’etat, there seemed little choice for Niki than to watch how things played out. She couldn’t go to their boss and claim that Lynn was screwing with the roster, the lines, the strategies, because Lynn would simply argue she was exercising her right as head coach to make all the final decisions about every aspect of what the team did on the ice. Smolenski could and frequently did attend practices and games. If he had concerns, it was up to him to voice them.

  She sat down in the locker room, buried her face in her hands. She’d never experienced anything like this before. Maybe it was naïve, but sh
e expected players and coaches at this level to act professionally, to have nothing but the best of intentions, to work their hardest for the common good of the team. When someone didn’t do those things, it was so anathema to Niki that it left her paralyzed with inaction.

  What would Eva do in this situation? Strangle Lynn? Demand the truth or else…or else what? Call the troops together behind Lynn’s back and quietly mutiny? Eva wouldn’t sit idly and do nothing. And neither could Niki. She had not sacrificed the last six months of her life for nothing. She needed to come up with a plan.

  * * *

  Eva scanned the hallway before she knocked on the door of Niki’s hotel room. She was staying in Niki’s room, but only at night. She’d slipped out shortly after daybreak this morning to hide out in a café, not wanting the media—or Rory—knowing she and Niki were shacking up for what was left of the Games.

  Rory opened the door, shock on her face as her eyes registered the crutches under Eva’s arms.

  “Oh my God. Mom! Eva’s hurt.”

  “It’s okay,” Eva said, hopping through the door before closing it.

  “But how can you play hockey tomorrow? And in the final game?” She looked about to cry, which mirrored how Eva felt.

  Niki came up behind Rory and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “I’m afraid she won’t be, sweetie.”

  “But, why? What happened?”

  Rory’s disappointment was a dart straight into Eva’s heart. “I, uh, slipped on some ice, can you believe it?” She forced a smile. “And no, I didn’t have skates on. It was outside. I’ve got a little crack in my kneecap.” She glanced at Niki, saw the strain on her face. “So, yeah, I’m off skates for a few weeks.”

  “No,” Rory said, shaking her head. “You can’t miss the final game, Eva. You can’t!”

  “I’m sorry, Ror.” Eva reached out and stroked the top of her head. “I hate that I have to miss it, but accidents happen.”

  The kid was really working at hiding her tears, swallowing them back until she began to hiccup. If she didn’t stop it, Eva herself was going to start crying like a baby. She cleared the sand from her throat. “We’re gonna watch your mom’s team win tonight, right? We’re going to cheer as loud as we can for her. And I’ll buy you as much ice cream as you want.”

  “I don’t want no stupid ice cream.”

  “That’s very rude, Rory.” Niki mouthed a silent apology to Eva. “You were looking forward to hanging out with Eva and your Aunt Jenny at the game tonight, remember? Nothing’s changed with that.”

  Rory hung her head, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

  “Me, too,” Eva said.

  “Why don’t you go get your backpack, sweetie. And make sure your sweater’s in there.”

  “It’s not a sweater, Mom, it’s a hoodie. It’s not even going to be cold in there, and besides, I’ll have my Team Canada jersey on too.”

  “Fine, whatever,” Niki said, rolling her eyes behind Rory’s back. “Go get your stuff, please.”

  Rory ran off, and Eva took the opportunity to cup Niki’s cheek and kiss her.

  Niki pulled her in tight. “Darling, I was so worried about you,” she whispered. “You have a fracture?”

  “Just a hairline. It’ll be fine.”

  “I’m so sorry. I wanted—hoped—it wasn’t as bad as it looked.”

  Eva rested her forehead against Niki’s and looked into her eyes. “There’s more important things than playing in that gold medal game, Nik. I know that now. You, Rory…Anything else is way down the list.”

  “But it’s not right, dammit. And somebody’s got to pay for this.”

  “Somebody will. Eventually. What happened at practice today?”

  Niki summarized, none of it surprising Eva. Lynn was beginning to show her hand.

  “That’s amateur stuff,” Eva huffed. “Sitting her two best players, playing the backup goalie. Not very creative of her.”

  “She’s changed the lines all around too.”

  “So what? That’s no guarantee the team’s going to lose. Lynn’s scared. She’s supposed to tank the game or at least make it look to someone like she’s trying to tank the game. I think she’s desperate and doesn’t know what the hell she’s doing.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning if you squeeze her the right way, I think she’ll cave.”

  “I’m not so sure. But I know one thing. I won’t stand by and watch my team lose tonight.”

  “Do you have a plan?”

  Niki shook her head lightly. “Not yet. But I’ll figure it out.”

  Rory cleared her throat loudly, causing Niki to leap back a step.

  “Sheesh, Mom. It’s okay. I know you and Eva are all, like, in love and stuff.”

  The look on Niki’s face—mouth open, eyes as big as hockey pucks—was adorable. And made Eva giddy with happiness. “You do? I mean, and you’re okay with that?”

  “Of course.” Rory’s gaze swung from one to the other and she grinned. “And you better not mess it up, Mom.”

  Eva erupted in a fit of laughter, though Niki looked much less amused. “Never mind, young lady. The only thing I’m going to mess up is you if you don’t get going. Now remember, your aunt—”

  “I know, I know. She’s meeting us at the game. I’m not a little kid, Mom. I could even get there myself if I needed to.”

  “You’ll do no such thing,” Niki said, hand at her heart.

  “It’s okay,” Eva said. “Don’t worry, I won’t let her out of my sight. Besides, she’s going to be my popcorn fetcher.”

  “All right, you two. I’ll see you guys after the game.”

  Eva leaned on her crutches and kissed Niki on the lips. “Good luck, sweetheart. I’ll be watching. And I’ll be with you every step, okay? No matter what.”

  “I know. Thank you. And I will need luck.”

  “Knock ’em dead, Mom.”

  “I just might need to,” Niki mumbled.

  Chapter Thirty

  Overtime

  Niki paced at her end of the bench. The first period was drawing to a close, and still there was no score. Canada hadn’t been held scoreless in the first period of a game yet in this tournament. Her team wasn’t getting the puck cleanly out of their end, and when they had possession in their opponent’s end, they played without confidence. Their usual strategies were in shreds, thanks to Lynn’s constant tinkering. The lines were all mixed up, so that players suddenly playing together didn’t intrinsically know each other’s habits. The backup goalie was holding her own so far, but she hadn’t proved herself under fire yet. Niki feared that as soon as Finland potted a goal, her goalie would mentally collapse.

  As each minute clicked down on the game clock, Niki grew more and more worried. Her team should be dominating this game. They should be razor-sharp and hungry to get on to the next game against the Americans. They should be peaking right now, not diving head first into the toilet. If they managed to survive this game, they wouldn’t last a period in the finals. The Americans would steamroll them. And laugh the whole time they were doing it. If Canada managed to win this game, victory would be short-lived.

  She glanced up into the stands, into the section where she knew Eva, Rory and Jenny were sitting. Kids like Rory adored their national team, whether it was Canada, the United States, Finland or Sweden. They looked up to the players, wanted to be like their heroes. Those kids, Niki thought with burning indignation, expected and deserved their teams to play their hearts out, to win (or lose) fair and square. The integrity of the game was at stake, and if Niki turned a blind eye to it, she was every bit as guilty as Lynn, Alison and Dani.

  She raked her eyes over Lynn and shook her head, wishing to somehow, magically, knock some sense into her. The crowd was getting restless and cranky too; they were used to their team breezing to victory. Many had begun yelling their frustration at the referee and the team, while others had tuned out and were chatting with their seatmates or goofing around
on their cell phones.

  When the buzzer mercifully signaled the first intermission, Niki shot ahead down the tunnel and into the coaches’ office, where she planned to ambush Lynn the second she walked in. She didn’t have a script or even a plan, but she couldn’t take this anymore. She’d have to wing it, and she’d have to calm down. And then an idea occurred to her.

  Lynn marched in, looking distracted, a bead of sweat at her temple.

  Quietly and without judgment, Niki said, “You’re in trouble, Lynn. I know everything. And I want you to know that we can fix this.”

  Lynn swayed a little, rocking on her heels. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about this game. About how you’re supposed to do your damnedest to make sure we lose. And if by some chance we win it, the girls will be so rattled, so disorganized, that we won’t have a hope in hell of winning gold on Saturday. It’s all part of the plan.”

  Lynn collapsed into the worn leather sofa along the wall, and buried her head in her hands. The silence was painful and it seemed to stretch out forever. Clearly, she had no intention of admitting to anything. Or maybe she was in complete denial. In any case, there wasn’t much time; intermission was only twenty minutes long. Seventeen now.

  “I know the plan is to hand the Americans the gold. And to do it without making it look like that’s what we’re doing. We either don’t get into the final against them, or if we do, we’ll sufficiently play like shit and have no hope against them.”

  The sofa hissed under Niki’s weight as she sat down next to Lynn, so close that their shoulders touched. She softened her voice, hoping, praying her bluff would work. “Dani told Eva everything, and Eva told me. I know about all of it, Lynn.”

  Lynn shook her head over and over, her eyes pinched shut. She might have been silently crying for all Niki knew.

  She put her arm around Lynn’s shoulder. They’d been buddies once, teammates through victories and defeats, grueling practices, tough injuries and even tougher coaches. She remembered an exhibition game, months before the Nagano Olympics, when she’d sprained her ankle after flying feet first into a goalpost. It was Lynn who’d skated to her aid first, helped her off the ice and practically carried her to the locker room. They grew apart when Niki stopped playing and became a coach and an associate professor, while Lynn toiled in a semi-pro league awhile longer, then became a coach too. The sacred alliance that had been nurtured and solidified in those early, formative playing years should have transcended time and distance. But it hadn’t.