“What did it say?” he asked. Was it her imagination or had his tone grown sharper?
“‘Mind your own business or your fiancé dies,’” she said.
“Mind your own business about what?”
She didn’t know. But it wasn’t a big stretch to presume it had something to do with the payara and maybe even her secretive informant, Trilly.
“I don’t know for sure, but I suspect the fact that I cleared out the Gulos from the sports center yesterday has something to do with it. It was clear they were looking for payara.” She waited for him to answer. Instead a long pause waited on the phone line. “Look, Sir. It’s no secret that a baggie of payara was found in the sports center a few months ago. Rumors are swirling around other divisions that the investigation is stalled, and it’s been leaked to the press. You and I have worked together well in the past, I know this area well and I’m already on the ground. I’d like to be considered for a transfer to work on this case or at least to be more involved in the investigation of what happened yesterday.”
Another pause filled the line. Suddenly a memory came back to her mind of standing awkwardly in a small meeting room as Butler reprimanded her sternly and at length for some minor mistake she’d made. He hadn’t ever been a warm man when they’d worked together. He’d been downright cold at times. But he’d been incredibly professional, his standards had been high, and at that time in her life she’d appreciated that.
“Thank you for your offer, Detective,” Butler said, “but I assure you all of our active cases are well staffed within the division, and I’m not in the habit of commenting on ongoing investigations. Have a good afternoon.”
The call ended. She turned back. Trent was gone, but Brandon still stood there, one arm crossed in front of his chest. “Coach said he’d meet you in the head office. I’ll show you the way.”
“Thank you,” she said.
He walked with her to the office, in silence, his lanky form dipping with each step like he was self-consciously trying to shrink. She tried to do some quick mental math to figure out how old he must’ve been when she’d worked with his grandfather. Six maybe? Seven? Yet none of her memories of Butler had included pictures of his grandchildren on his desk, or a small family visiting the office. “I worked with your grandfather a long time ago. He was a good man to train under. He was very hard on rookies.”
Brandon nodded. “He has pretty high standards, yeah.”
The question was, had her standards been too low? Had she been so eager for her life to have some order and structure that all it had taken to win her admiration was a cold demeanor and strict dedication to the rules?
She found Trent in the head office talking to a slender, blond, uniformed cop.
“Constable Docker, right?”
“Call me Nicole.” She turned. “Nice to see you again.”
“That was fast.” Chloe reached out to shake her hand before realizing it was holding an evidence bag containing the white, smudged rock.
“Oh, I was just around the corner when the call came in.” Guilt flickered in Nicole’s eyes, so quickly it was almost unnoticeable. Guilt about what? What was around the corner from Trillium exactly besides the sports center?
Chloe smiled and nodded, then stood back to let Nicole take their statements.
It was her first real, hard look at her beyond a very quick introduction they’d had at the sports center yesterday, when Chloe had been looking for Butler. She’d have pegged Nicole to be in her early twenties. The rookie cop had curly blond hair scraped back into a ponytail at the nape of her neck and the kind of bright blue eyes Chloe had longed for as a preteen.
“If you’re free, I’d love to grab a coffee and talk more,” Chloe said. “Staff Sergeant Butler was my training officer when I was a rookie, too. I’m sure we have a lot in common.”
Was it her imagination or did slight panic flicker in Nicole’s eyes?
“I’m sure you would both enjoy that.” Trent’s arm slid over Chloe’s shoulder. “But sadly, my fiancée and I have to hurry over to Nanny’s Diner. The whole team is waiting for us. Maybe you two gals can meet up at the game.” He practically steered Chloe out of the office and toward the front door.
The winter sun sunk low in a pale gray sky. Their footsteps crunched across the snow-covered parking lot. His head bent toward hers. “I appreciate your impulse to chase leads, Detective. But for today you’re my fiancée, and we are on a very tight timeline. Not showing up at Nanny’s for the team meal would raise some pretty major eyebrows.” They reached his truck. He slid his arm off her shoulder and opened her door for her. “If it’s any help, I did find out she’s single.”
Chloe felt her eyebrows rise. “How did you find that out?”
Trent chuckled and walked around to his side of the truck. He whistled something musical under his breath. If he was trying to make her jealous by implying Nicole had asked him out, it wasn’t going to work. But that would explain why she’d looked vaguely guilty. He hopped into the driver’s side and looked at her. She had no idea what the expression on her face was, but whatever it was made him laugh.
“Don’t worry. I’d never date a cop who tried to arrest me without first reading me my rights.” He draped his hand over the back of her seat and backed up. “Even if she had, I don’t have time for a girlfriend. I simply don’t date or do relationships.”
An odd heaviness settled into the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t sure why. Trent had never showed any interest in dating her, with the one notable exception of the coffee date that wasn’t. Surely the knowledge he didn’t date anybody at all would make her feel better.
“I spoke to Staff Sergeant Butler,” she said. “It was disappointing. I asked him if I could assist on the payara case, and he was curt. But I still don’t like thinking he’s a bad cop. His standards were insanely high. I can’t imagine he’d be open to blackmail or greed, or allow corruption in his ranks.”
“You can’t make blanket statements about bad cops. Like you said, cops are human and make mistakes.” Trent pulled onto the road and drove. His hand remained on the back of her seat. His fingertips brushed the back of her neck. “But I wouldn’t blame you for being miffed that he wouldn’t come down to the college. Your life was threatened, after all.”
“Miffed?” She pushed his hand off her seat back, feeling the tension his hand had begun to brush away snap back with a vengeance. “Trent, I’m a cop. I’ve had my life threatened more times than I can count, in far more disturbing and graphic ways. Besides, it was your life that was threatened. Not mine. Even with the marker smudges, it was pretty clear they wrote ‘fiancé’ with one e, not two.”
“Because criminals are such great spellers,” he said. “They threw the rock in my office window—”
“When we were both in clear view of the window. I haven’t left your side all day, so it’s not like it would be easy to threaten me alone. I’m the cop. You’re the mild-mannered hockey coach.”
“You left out ‘boring,’” he added.
“I’m sorry if using that word bothered you,” she said. “But you were incredibly awkward and uncomfortable just being in that lecture hall.”
He didn’t answer. Instead he just stared straight ahead, with both hands on the steering wheel, as they drove through the small-town streets.
It had been an act, right? She’d seen him face down armed criminals without so much as breaking a sweat. So it was hard to imagine being in front of a classroom would intimidate him.
He pulled into the parking lot of Nanny’s Diner. They got out of the truck and walked toward the blue-and-white-striped awnings.
Two people stood near the entrance, arguing by the look of things, and it took Chloe’s eyes a moment to realize what she was really seeing.
Lucy stood in the doorway, dressed in a waitress’s apron and
holding two jugs of pop as if someone had called her to the door while she was waiting tables. A tall man with gray hair and a baseball cap was talking to her, his hands shaking in the air and his voice a low hiss. It was clear whatever he was saying was upsetting her almost to the point of tears.
What was this? Chloe’s footsteps quickened, feeling Trent match pace.
“As long as I’m paying for your schooling, young lady, you’re staying in Bobcaygeon and going to Trillium, and that’s final!” The elderly man’s voice rose.
Chloe’s heartbeat stuttered. It was Frank Butler. The staff sergeant didn’t seem to notice their approach. “I don’t care how many letters you get that university in Vancouver to send about deferring your acceptance. You are not going. Makeup making or perfume mixing, or whatever it is you call it, is a garbage waste of an education and I’m not throwing my good money away on it! Period.”
“Good afternoon, Frank,” Trent said loudly. Their footsteps paused in the snow. Then his voice dropped softly. “Hi, Lucy.”
Lucy looked up nervously and the tears in the young woman’s eyes shook something inside Chloe’s chest. Had her former training officer always been so volatile?
Frank turned and stumbled as his foot slipped in the snow.
“Afternoon,” he said and nodded curtly without meeting their eyes. The unmistakable stench of liquor rose from his breath. He walked off.
Lucy paused for a moment, turned and bolted into the diner. The door swung shut behind her.
Chloe turned to Trent. “I had no idea Butler drank. Did you?”
* * *
“No, I didn’t.” Trent’s head shook. “But, the only time I saw him out of uniform was at hockey games and I kept enough of a distance not to notice the smell of whatever was in his thermos.”
He sighed. If Butler had a drinking problem, it would certainly go a long way in explaining how he’d botched a crucial investigation and why he was so jittery. Despite what Chloe might’ve hoped, an internal investigation would be for the best, especially if it got the staff sergeant the help he needed.
Trent turned to Chloe and reached for her hand, ready to walk with her into the diner. To his surprise, as his fingers brushed hers, he could feel her shaking beneath his touch. He pulled her close.
“Are you okay?” he asked quietly.
“I just can’t believe I never saw it,” Chloe said. “My father was the same. He was one way in public and another in private. I could never understand how he fooled people. But he was very charming and outgoing, and Butler was this cold, hard stickler for rules...” Her voice trailed off.
“Listen to me,” he said, “everybody has ugly and unpleasant parts of themselves that they try not to show to the wider world. It’s possible Butler might not have been like that when you worked with him. Sometimes grief hits people hard. Or early onset dementia can cause angry outbursts and emotional issues. You can’t know. We shouldn’t guess without knowing more. And you definitely can’t blame yourself for not knowing.”
Even though he could tell that, in a way, she was.
Lord, I don’t know what she’s lived through or what battles she’s fighting on the inside. Please, heal her heart. Please, help me help her.
She met his eyes and smiled weakly. There was a slight quiver to her lips that made something thud inside his chest.
“Maybe,” she said. “I’m just suddenly doubting everything I thought I knew about him. Sometimes when you’ve seen the very worst side of someone it changes everything and there’s no going back from that.”
Yeah, that’s what he was afraid of.
They pushed through the door to the diner. His hand was still loosely holding hers and he told himself it was all for the sake of his cover and not because of how comfortably her palm fit into his.
He scanned the room. Most of the Trillium hockey players were crammed into three large, yellow-vinyl booths in their usual place at the far side of the wall.
Aidan looked up and waved. There was an unmistakable tension in the third-line center’s face, and he wasn’t the only member of the team who was scowling. What was that all about? Trent waved back. Then he leaned toward Chloe and whispered, “Game time.”
They started across the floor through the tables. But they’d barely taken five steps when a burst of arrogant laughter to his right made his head turn. He frowned.
A couple of the Haliburton players were lounging at a tall table by the jukebox, cracking jokes under their breath and tossing glances in his players’ direction.
The Haliburton coach was a foulmouthed man who’d never really done much to encourage sportsmanlike behavior from his players, as far as Trent could see. It wasn’t the first time a couple of players from their rival team had wandered into Nanny’s before a game looking to psych his players out and goad them into a fight, or even just to test how long they could hang out and talk nonsense before Eli got frustrated and kicked them out.
It was an immature posturing thing that had been going on for far longer than Trent had been on the scene, and he got the impression that with the number of regional hockey teams that bussed in to practice at the Bobcaygeon rink and college students from neighboring towns that drove over to work out at the elite sports center, Eli couldn’t exactly afford to refuse to serve them all. Trent was just thankful his guys were usually too good to take the bait.
“That’s Johnny.” Chloe gestured subtly to the blond jock. “He’s the guy who was in the exercise room yesterday with Poppy.”
He nodded. “I figured. The other player’s the Haliburton goalie. His name is George.”
The ice cubes rattled in Lucy’s jug as she poured pop into their glasses. George ran his eyes over her and snickered. It was an ugly sound. Then Johnny leaned over and whispered something in Lucy’s ear. Her cheeks went crimson.
“Hey, Johnny!” The tone in Chloe’s voice told Trent she’d noticed the interaction, too. “I see you made it out safe and sound yesterday.”
“Detective!” He stood and glanced at her hand holding Trent’s. “You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend.”
There was a hint of reproach in his voice. Trent didn’t much like the sound of it. But at least now Lucy had stepped away from them and moved on to another table.
Trent leaned his head toward Chloe, keeping his mouth close enough to her ear that they were unlikely to be overheard. “Do you want me to handle this?”
Chloe snorted and shook her head. “No. Thanks. Let me. After all, he might have seen something, yesterday.” She pulled her hand out of his and stepped toward the Haliburton players.
“Coach Henri is my fiancé, actually,” Chloe said. “I hope all that chaos at the sports center didn’t throw you off your game. I’m looking forward to seeing our team beat yours fair and square.”
A smattering of laughter came from the Trillium players.
Johnny’s eyebrow quirked.
Trent grit his teeth as he felt something fierce and protective rise up inside him. He didn’t like the way this student, fifteen years his junior, was looking at Chloe.
God, I know I should ignore him, just like I always tell my players to. I promised Chloe that I wouldn’t fight her fights for her. And if I tell a college student off for looking at Chloe the wrong way, I’m going to end up looking like a possessive jerk in her eyes.
“You sure she’s a cop?” George pivoted in his seat. “She doesn’t look that tough to me.”
“Oh, yeah.” Johnny sniggered, like he didn’t believe it, either. “Apparently she took down a knife-wielding gang member in an elf mask.”
“Her?” The goalie looked Chloe up and down. “Nah, that didn’t happen. What she do? Throw her purse at him?”
So, this was what it was like being a female officer. Sure, Trent had heard the stories from women he’d served alongside ab
out dealing with a steady stream of disrespect from stupid punks, but still he’d never gotten over the shock of seeing it firsthand.
George slid off his seat, grabbed a dull butter knife off the table and waved it around theatrically, like a bad television ninja, complete with sound effects. “Watch out, girlie. I’m a mean gang elf and I’m coming to stab you!”
A grin turned on Chloe’s lips. She stepped forward, knocked the knife from the young man’s grasp with one hand and caught his wrist with the other. Then she spun him around, twisting his arm behind his back and forcing him down until he was kneeling on the floor.
The Haliburton goalie swore and looked up at Trent. “Tell her to let go!”
“You’ll have to talk to her. I don’t tell her what to do.” Trent chuckled. He could hear a smattering of laughter and the murmur of gasps coming from the Trillium players. “Looked to me like you just threatened to stab a cop in front of a room full of witnesses.”
“Coach Henri!” Eli rushed through the diner toward them. “What is going on? I was on the phone and suddenly one of the waitresses comes rushing into the office in saying there’s a fight about to break out.”
Chloe let go of the goalie. He scowled, stood and stuffed his hands into his pockets.
“Not a fight,” Trent said. “One of the Haliburton players was acting foolish and waving a knife around. My fiancée stepped in before the situation could escalate.”
Eli nodded to Chloe. “Thank you.”
She smiled. “No problem.”
Trent stepped back and watched as Eli escorted Johnny and George from the diner. The chorus of Trillium players laughing and clapping behind them seemed to be growing. Then, to his surprise, Chloe threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. His hands slid about her waist.
“That was fun,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
“For what?” he asked. “For letting you take down some arrogant college kid? You asked me to let you handle it, so I did.”
Undercover Holiday Fiancée Page 8
