“Why are you here?” Obviously, Seraphina had yet to master thinking before speaking, and as a result, a telling blush began to slither across her face. “I’m sorry. The question was rude. I just figured you’d be at home, sleeping, or at least getting some kind of massage.” At his confused look, Seraphina felt her new pink color crimson, and she explained, “You know. For your back. Because of the chairs. Surely they must be uncomfortable.”
Brandon’s lips curled up and he started to chuckle, slowly at first, but it continued to build up. Seraphina wasn’t certain if he was laughing at something she said – though, looking back on the conversation, she didn’t think she said something funny – or if he was laughing at her – a much more likely scenario – but she felt herself force a tight smile and nod, as though she, too, were in on the joke.
Which she wasn’t.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. Apparently, he wasn’t going to explain just what was so funny. “No, my back is fine. Well, maybe I’ll schedule one for later. I actually came here for another reason.”
“Oh.” Oh. Well, duh. Seraphina couldn’t believe the thought hadn’t struck her before. “The team already left for Vancouver for the game,” Seraphina explained. Her voice sounded more certain now that she knew why he was here. “If I had known you would have been released last night, I would have told Henry and they would have waited for a bit.”
Brandon shook his head about halfway through her sentence. “No, that’s not it either,” he told her. He opened his eyes, locking them with her own. Seraphina inhaled sharply, once again stricken by how piercing they were. Like they could see right through the armor she had so diligently placed not only around her heart, but her very soul. “Actually, I wanted to thank you.”
What?
“What?”
She wasn’t sure she heard him right. He wanted to thank her? For what, exactly?
He smiled again, slowly, and Seraphina’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of it. “I wanted to thank you,” he said again. “I know I’ve said it before, but I just wanted to tell you, again, how much I appreciate the fact that you’ve consistently believed in me. But...”
Ah. There it was. There always seemed a ‘but’ anytime a man said something sweet.
“I think maybe it would be better if I didn’t resign with the Gulls.”
Tension suddenly swarmed into the room, with as much determination as mosquitoes following an unsuspecting family on an outdoor camping trip, and filled as much space. Immediately, Seraphina’s eyes narrowed at the man before her and her muscles tightened. All thoughts of transparency and skipped heartbeats vanished from her mind. Now, they were talking business, and it seemed that Brandon Thorpe wanted to quit when things got rough. Nothing annoyed her more than when people gave up without actually trying, whether it was business, boys, school, and family.
And right now, Brandon Thorpe wanted to run away.
“Excuse me?” Perhaps her voice was a tad shrill – she absolutely hated that word – but Seraphina couldn’t help her reaction even if she wanted to. She had no patience for people who would rather take the easy way out than stay and deal with problem at hand.
“Yeah.” If Brandon detected the added sharpness to her voice, he didn’t show it. He was looking at her with a passive expression, his body completely relaxed. Those eyes still have nothing away. And this seemed to only add more to her increasing aggravation with the net minder. “I just feel” – finally, he dropped his arm in his lap – “that it’ll just be easier for everyone involved. You’ve seen the fans at the games, you’ve heard them booing me. It’s likely that they’ll turn from just me to booing the entire team, which means the team takes a hit, both financially and emotionally. You’ve just been ripped to pieces in the press, even before I became an official suspect, and it’s only gotten worse for you” –
Seraphina held up a hand to cut him off. “I’m fine, thanks,” she said in a voice that was anything but. “I can take care of myself. I always knew I’d be criticized in the press for the way I run this team, especially during the beginning and especially because I can’t replace my grandfather. That’s the job. It’s something I have to deal with. And if fans turn on the team they’re not really fans.” She paused, taking a deep breath. She looked him in the eyes – whether they could see through her or not – in order to convey just how serious she was. “This was always going to be hard for me. But for whatever reason, my grandfather chose me. And I have to believe in that. It’s what keeps me going, despite how the press writes about me. My grandfather was never going to trade you. I believe that with every fiber of my being. Don’t ask me why I believe that, I just do. But if you want to leave for your own personal reasons, that’s fine. But don’t do this for me or for the team or for anybody else except you. Now if you’ll excuse me...”
In all honesty, Seraphina had nothing else to do, but she didn’t want to continue this conversation with Thorpe. And she didn’t want to say anything stupid or annoying or funny, especially when the last way she wanted to come across was funny.
Wait a minute... Seraphina glanced at the digital clock once again. She actually did have something to do. “... I have a meeting,” she finished. She looked at Thorpe, hoping he would get the message. In fact, he did because he stood. But that calm look still tainted his face. Every aspect of it, save for his eyes. Those eyes were inquiring, looking at her enigmatically. She couldn’t read them. And she didn’t think she wanted to.
He left.
Just then, Seraphina heard an unfamiliar tap-tap-tap against the hard floor leading up to her office. At first, she thought it was Thorpe walking away from the room, but the sound was coming closer, and Brandon had been wearing flip flops.
Not that she had noticed or anything.
Since Brandon had left the door the door open, Simon breezed in, leading with his cane. Underneath his arm were the financial books Seraphina had requested. He was dressed rather formally – much like he had been in Earl James small practice – down to the pressed white gloves.
“Here you are,” he said. He smiled warmly at her as he handed her the books. “I wanted to mention something to you, Miss Hanson. The numbers in the books don’t show it, but your grandfather came to me with the hopes of selling the team in order to retire so he could spend more time with you and your sister. Of course, I completely respect whatever choice you make in regards to the hockey team, but I thought it was only right for you to know.” He began to turn, giving her a curt nod, before he headed out the office.
There it was. The missing piece.
Click.
She would have to call Katella.
But then Simon Spade stopped and turned his head so he stared into her eyes. Not like Brandon Thorpe did, but still, as though he could see straight through her. She shivered.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Miss Hanson,” he said in a quiet voice before tap-tap-tapping away.
Chapter 12
Her hand shook as she reached for her cell phone and called the number on the card she had retrieved from her overstuffed wallet. It was given to her by Detective Christopher Williams during their first encounter, and he had told her that if she needed him for anything at all, she could call him, no matter what time it was. Since it was close to noon, Seraphina doubted that she would be interrupting anything, except perhaps lunch, but she didn’t really care all that much about etiquette right now.
She knew what happened. She knew. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t seen it before, but now that she did, it was so obvious. Those rumors, even the suspicion around Brandon Thorpe, it all came from one person. The puzzle was finally complete. The mystery was finally solved.
And once she got off the phone with Detective Williams, she would call Katella. Though would a phone call be a smart idea? Perhaps she should just go over to Katella’s office and tell her sister in person.
Hmm.
Well, if it was Seraphina, she’d want to know as soon as possible. By phon
e – and not a text message. If Katella didn’t answer, she’d drive over there.
There had been three rings. With every second, Seraphina could feel her heart beat increase more and more that she felt her chest vibrate.
Why wasn’t he answering? Until finally, “This is Detective Williams.”
“Detective?” Seraphina knew she sounded crazy, maybe even shrill, but at that point, she didn’t care.
She didn’t know why, but she felt as though she needed to tell Detective Williams everything she knew all in one breath. “It’s Seraphina Hanson. I know who killed my grandfather. It was” –
“Seraphina?” came his slow voice. “What’s wrong? Slow down.”
“ – and he used his cane to knock Papa out” –
“I can’t understand you,” Williams said. “You have to slow down. Seraphina, I can’t understand you.”
“ – started the rumors about Papa wanting to sell the team” –
“Seraphina?” This time, it was a familiar voice though not on the other end of the line. This one belonged to the man that had just left her office minutes ago, now back, and with a gun pointing at Seraphina. “Please. Hang up the phone. Oh, and I wouldn’t say anything else either.”
Seraphina felt her entire body freeze that it took her a while before Simon Spade’s words sunk in. She managed to swallow, and with even shakier hands, she closed the phone. It dropped from her fingers due to the fact that she couldn’t control her body’s reaction at seeing him standing there with a gun. She grabbed her shaky hand with her other one, hoping that she might be able to calm herself down.
“I was just talking to Katella,” she said. Her voice didn’t sound like herself; it sounded low and scared and detached.
He smiled at her statement. It was warm, like all his smiles were. “I don’t believe you,” he said in a calm voice. “We both know that you’re lying.” He stepped into the office, but for whatever reason, didn’t think to close the door behind him. Maybe it was because one hand held the gun while the other held onto his cane. Maybe it was because there were probably only three or four people here – besides Seraphina herself – thanks to the away game that would take place that evening. And Simon would know that, thanks to his long, professional relationship with Papa. Maybe he was just cocky. Probably all three.
“See, that’s how I know you are your grandfather’s granddaughter,” Simon continued. Seraphina didn’t understand how someone with such a nice, relaxed voice could be a cold-blooded killer. “Honesty runs through the family. Your grandfather couldn’t lie to save his life, and now I see that you’ve inherited that trait from him.”
Seraphina pressed her lips together. She wasn’t sure if the fact that she hadn’t screamed was a good or a bad thing. People might have heard her and come to her aide – maybe, if the four people that were here would actually hear her and actually think to come looking to see if there was anything wrong – but Simon might have shot her had she made any noise.
At least she knew how she’d react in a life or death situation; her entire body stood rigid, like a rock, but definitely not as strong.
Right now, she couldn’t think, couldn’t move, couldn’t speak.
“I’m not sure if you’ve been told this before, Miss Hanson,” Simon continued. He didn’t come any closer, but he was blocking the door – the only way in and out – so she couldn’t escape even if Seraphina had thought to. “But you have incredibly expressive eyes. And they, in turn, cause your entire face to react to something. I knew the instant you realized what happened to your grandfather. I realized my mistake in that moment, so I had to regroup. Luckily, I always carry this” – he tilted the gun so Seraphina would know it was what he was talking about – “in case of an emergencies. I’m an old man, Miss Hanson, and can’t protect myself. I started wearing it after your grandfather passed. Just in case.”
This time, the smile on Simon’s face wasn’t warm; this time, it was sardonic.
“So I left, just for a moment, so I could come back prepared,” he said. “And luckily I did, because you wasted no time getting on the phone, now did you? Admitting that Ken told me he was going to retire was my only flaw, you see? And maybe if I had kept my mouth shut, you wouldn’t be in your current predicament. For that, I apologize. But things happen for a reason. I slipped up, and if you would like to psychoanalyze me, I would not stop you.
“Telling you about Ken’s supposed plan to retire was my undoing because his granddaughter would never have made such a decision without getting your opinion on it first. He told me how he would seek your advice about problems he was facing about the team, the players, so he wouldn’t actually think about selling the team without at least talking to you about it first. And I know Ken’s character, and Ken would never have retired unless health complications forced him to or if you and your sister asked him to. Not even spending more time with the two of you would be enough to get Ken to sell the team and retire.
“Well, I can admire a working man. A man who earned every cent he ever made and went on to make himself a multi-millionaire, coming from absolutely nothing. But I am not like your grandfather. I want to retire a wealthy man – poor, in comparison to Ken, of course, but wealthy when compared to normal people – and spend more time with my family, who I rarely get to see myself.”
Seraphina swallowed again. She didn’t know what else to do. She couldn’t concentrate on one thought at a time due to her eyes always looking at the gun pointing at her torso. Her entire body was tense as if it had already prepared for the gun to go off, but as of yet, nothing.
So she forced herself to listen. Just in case she survived this thing and needed to retell it.
“The team, as you well know now, was losing money,” he said. “Is losing money, I should say. Though, what with all the controversy surrounding Ken’s death, business has picked up. But it wouldn’t have, had I not killed your grandfather. At the time, the team was losing money which meant I was losing money. Of course, your grandfather wasn’t worried, but why should he be? He has plenty of money to his name. I, on the other hand, could not afford such a decrease in my finances. Selling the team would have been the best way to get rid of a sinking ship. And what with Brandon Thorpe asking for even more money and the fact that your grandfather was actually considering this young, arrogant fool, I had to take matters into my own hands.”
“You started the rumors about Brandon.” They were the first words out of Seraphina’s mouth. They were firm but shocked. And she sounded more like herself.
“Yes,” Simon said with a curt nod of his head. Seraphina noticed that for someone in his seventies, Simon’s hand holding the gun didn’t shake. “It was terribly easy, too. Even you cannot deny that Brandon Thorpe was the perfect person for the police to focus on. He held out for more money – what a perfect scenario that happened at exactly the correct time. I couldn’t ask for a more arrogant and greedy scapegoat. Perhaps if he was a beloved player, a fan favorite, so to speak, I might have had a more difficult time getting people to turn on him, but people do not particularly like him. Yes, he is an acclaimed net minder but people are flighty and tend to support those that they like, whether or not the player is actually good at the sport. And because people tend to believe what the media says rather than doing their own research and because the media loves a controversy, they feed off of each other until the story has gotten so big that even if Brandon Thorpe is acquitted or dropped as a suspect, his reputation is ruined. He’ll never play hockey again. And I’d have done everyone a favor because people want him gone. Of course, nobody will know this is my doing” – he stopped midsentence in order to look into Seraphina’s eyes, his lips curling into a dark smirk as he did so – “well, almost nobody. But I shall remedy that problem soon enough.”
“You’re going to kill me.” Seraphina wasn’t sure if she meant her words as a statement or a question, but for whatever reason, she felt compelled to say them. Her eyes were still fixated on the gun.
>
“Well, you need to be disposed of,” Simon told her, as though it was completely obvious. His tone was casual and he shrugged his shoulders slightly, almost like he was apologizing for it but it was still something that had to be done. “Don’t worry about me, though, Miss Hanson, because I’ve thought it out. It isn’t difficult to see that you’ve been struggling to manage the Seagulls, that you’re in over your head. And that, piled on top of the distress you’re feeling in terms of losing your grandfather in such a horrific way, your uncle coming out to the media against you, well, it would make sense for you to take your own life and rid yourself of the burdens that have been placed on your shoulders.”
“Katella won’t believe it,” Seraphina said. Each time she opened her mouth, her voice increased in strength. She even managed to pry her eyes away from the weapon still steadily aimed at her in order to look at Simon. It only lasted a few seconds, but it was a big deal at least to her. “She won’t believe that I killed myself.”
“Katella is insignificant,” Simon growled. Apparently he didn’t like it when people began to poke holes into his carefully drawn out plans. “It won’t matter what some young girl thinks when the police and the medical examiner rule your death as a suicide. And she will be persuaded in the end. You never really, truly know a person, do you? You could be hiding your depression, especially from her, and because you can’t handle it anymore, you had to end it. You had to end the pain and the suffering that has been plaguing you since your grandfather’s death.”
“The police will be here any second,” Seraphina said. She highly doubted it was true, especially since Detective Christopher Williams didn’t seem to understand anything that she had told him, but something snapped in her mind. Her life was at stake. In all likelihood, she would die in a few minutes, by the same man who killed her grandfather.
Blood on the Rocks: A Slapshot Prequel (A Slapshot Prequel Trilogy Book 1) Page 11
