“I know.” She looked up into his eyes. Something sparkled there, like happiness mingled with gratitude. “I also know just how badly you were itching to jump in and take over. It was written all over your face.”
Well, he’d made the right decision by the sound of it. The applause had turned into a thunderous wave of students stomping on the floor and banging on the tables. Her hands slid up around his neck. He found himself pulling her closer into his chest. “I think they’re chanting for me to kiss you.”
“Do you think you should?” she asked.
They were still whispering, her face just inches from his, although he was certain nobody would be able to make out their words over the sound of the racket his players were making. He could feel his heart beating like a drum in his chest, matching the rhythm of the percussion around him.
“Maybe. If that’s okay with you.”
What are you doing? the voice of logic shouted in his head, struggling to be heard.
They were on an undercover mission. Yes, they were pretending to be a couple. But the desire to kiss her was stronger than that. He wanted to kiss her for real. Like she was really his. And he was really hers. He couldn’t let himself get emotionally compromised like that. Not by her. Not now. Not ever.
She bit her lip, just a little. Then she nodded. “Yeah, I think that’s okay.”
Her fingers brushed the back of his neck and curled through his hair. He pulled her close. His lips met hers and he kissed her.
EIGHT
Kissing Chloe was like coming home to a place where he’d always hoped to belong. He felt her kiss him back, sweetly and gently. The clapping turned into a roar of applause. Hands banged on the table like the beat of dozens of drums. He could even hear some of his players whistling.
Then Chloe pulled away, ending the kiss. She hugged him, tucking her head into that old familiar and practiced spot on his neck that meant she wanted to talk without being overheard and suddenly the full weight of what he’d done hit him. For the first time, in his entire life, he’d kissed someone not because he’d felt obligated to, or because it was what his cover identity would do, but because he’d wanted to. He tilted his head toward her, thankful for the wall of noise because it would hide his words. “I hope that was okay.”
Her breath tickled his ear. “It was the right thing for Coach Henri to do.”
But was it the right thing for Detective Trent Henry to do?
She pulled out of his arms, brushed a quick kiss on the scruff of his cheek and sat down in the booth. She flushed, smiling, and waved her hands at the players. “Oh, you guys are being ridiculous! It’s like you’ve never seen a man kiss his fiancée before.”
Laughter rippled through the room. Trent sat down. Milo reached across the table and shook her hand. Aidan flashed Chloe a thumbs-up. “I can’t believe you took George down like that!”
She laughed. “It was nothing. People like him and Johnny are all bark and no bite.”
Eli came over and thanked her. Lucy brought a platter of wings to the table. Then it was like something broke in the air and the players all started talking at once. Watching Chloe take down the rival goalie in the middle of the diner had somehow chipped a hole in the invisible barrier that had always stood between him and the four of them.
Milo told a ridiculous story about trying to talk his way out of a driving ticket when he was fifteen and had borrowed his older brother’s car without permission even though he didn’t have a license.
Aidan started teasing Hodge about dating Poppy.
Brandon stopped checking his phone.
Conversation flew around the booth as smoothly and easily as a well-passed puck and, for the first time since taking on his cover, he felt like he was really getting to know who these young men were.
When the wings were done and the players started filing out, Trent helped Chloe into her coat and they walked outside. His arm slid around her shoulder again, effortlessly and almost unconsciously, as they walked to his truck. He opened the door for her again, they got in and he peeled out of the parking lot, thankful for the few minutes they’d get alone before they reached the sports center.
“I feel like I should thank you,” he said. “I don’t know how you did it. Those young men opened up more to you tonight than they ever have to me.”
“They felt like I had their back and that I was one of them.” She leaned against the seat, looking far more exhausted than he’d expected her to feel. “I don’t blame them for being suspicious of people, especially outsiders. If you’re right, at least one of them committed a major crime having that much payara in his possession, and at least some of the others are covering for him. If Aidan’s involved, it could cost him his scholarship. Hodge already has a record. And judging from how we saw Butler yell at Lucy, I can’t blame Brandon for wanting to keep his head down. They have no reason to trust me, you or anyone. They need to know that we have their back and that we’re on their side. Or, at least, that we’re willing to listen and hear their side of the story.”
She was right, of course. He’d even go so far as to say that many of the criminals he met had gone through childhood traumas as bad, or even worse, than the murder of his sister, and talking to them about how he’d gotten lured into petty crime by Royd and snared by the Wolfspiders had helped get them to trust him. But what could he say that would possibly connect with these bright and shiny college students?
I’ve always hated school, so it feels like I’m suffocating every time I walk into Trillium. I have three amazing brothers and two incredible parents, who I think have all given up on me. I used to have a sister, too, but she was strangled to death by some creep when I was thirteen, because I was hanging behind the school with idiot Wolfspiders when I was supposed to be walking her home...
Her hand lay in the empty space between them just resting on the edge of the console. He resisted the temptation to reach for it. The kiss at the diner had been too real, at least for him. But she’d kissed Coach Henri. She hadn’t kissed the real him. Like she’d said, once she knew his entire ugly story, there’d be no going back.
He pulled into the sports center parking lot. “I’m going to suggest we split up,” he said. “I’ll go be with the players. You hang out in the stands. See if you can strike up a conversation with Nicole. I’ll keep an eye on the clock once the third period starts. When you slip out, I’ll give you exactly fifteen minutes to either text or reappear. Anything longer than that, I’m putting Eli in charge and coming out. Okay?”
“Got it,” Chloe said. “Hopefully, Trilly will come through for us and in a few quick hours we’ll have enough information to pass it up the chain of command, they’ll form a task force and authorize a raid and then it will be out of our hands.”
“Agreed.” And then what? Then he’d assume another cover identity and plunge into specialized mining operation training for his next investigation, before flying off to the remote mine in the Arctic, and he’d be stuck figuring out how to say goodbye to Chloe again. His phone started to ring. He glanced down at the name on the screen. Jacob.
“Who’s Jacob?” Chloe asked.
“The guy I told you about with RCMP Criminal Investigations. I should take it.”
“Understood.” Chloe brushed her lips over his cheek, in a gesture he was certain was for the benefit of the gaggle of players and students already gathering in the sports center parking lot, and hopped out of the truck. He tried not to watch the swing of her hair brushing her back as she walked away.
Then he answered the phone. “Hey, bro. What’s the news?”
“All good,” Jacob said. “Everyone on the team who’s processing the cell phone and Detective Brant’s house is aboveboard and someone I’d professionally vouch for. If there is a corrupt element impacting your case, it won’t come from within our part of the police world.�
��
Thank You, God. Trent sighed and leaned back against the seat. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”
“No problem,” his brother said. “Mom and Dad are wondering when you’re arriving at the farm. The rest of us are here already and tomorrow’s Christmas Eve.”
Not that Trent needed the reminder. “I’ll be there for dinner on Christmas Day.”
“Then you’re going to disappear.” Jacob said it like it was a statement of fact.
So much for thinking they were going to save this argument until Christmas. Then again, the eldest Henry brother had always been the family peacemaker.
“I’ve spent my whole professional life fighting gang crime,” Trent said. “I’m running around out here, cutting the heads off snakes, only to have six more grow back in their place before I can even turn around. If a diamond mine is funneling money into organized crime, and I can take it out, I’ll be chopping down the Wolfspiders, the Gulos and countless other gangs at the roots.”
“Those were some impressively mixed metaphors.” Jacob chuckled. “But, seriously, why does it have to be you?” Sounded like he really was getting the prefight out before he had to explain it to the folks. Maybe it was Jacob’s way of helping.
“Because I’m good at what I do, and I have no relationship entanglements.” Not to mention he was really good at closing doors and walking away. “The tech crew is already erasing any trace of me online. I have no digital footprint. The mining company can search my picture online all they’ll want and they’ll never find me. I’m off the grid. I don’t exist. I’ll be cut off from the world up there, and I’ll be watched constantly. They’ll invent a fake relationship for me, a parent most likely, and send me carefully crafted messages from that person with cyphers hidden inside incase of emergencies.”
“I know. I looked into that, too,” Jacob said. Trent could almost hear him nodding. “Sounds like an impressive investigation. I just know what Mom and Dad are going to say and your voice sounded a bit off when we last talked. I want to make sure that you’re sure.”
“Of course I’m sure. We can talk a lot more at Christmas. But right now I’ve got to go.”
“Got it,” his brother said. “If you need anything, feel free to call.”
“Thanks.” The call ended. He put his game face on and walked into the sports center, feeling an odd and uneasy ache in his chest. He blamed Jacob. Sure, his older brother meant well, but it wasn’t exactly helpful to have him planting doubt in his mind. In a few hours the case would be over, he’d be saying goodbye to Chloe again and she’d never know just how many nights he’d probably end up lying awake on his bunk at night, listening to the sound of dozens of burly men snoring, missing her face.
Trent found the team in the locker room, abuzz with fresh energy and enthusiasm. As much as he enjoyed it, he couldn’t help thinking Chloe was the reason why.
They stood in a circle, Trent stuck his hand in the middle of the huddle and they all piled their hands on top. Then the team hit the ice with more hustle than they ever had before. But only half of his mind was on the game. The other half kept glancing up to the stands, instinctively seeking out Chloe’s face. She was sitting one row behind Nicole, who was in uniform and with a young male officer. Chloe had somehow also acquired a Trillium College team banner. She waved it at him. He waved back.
Then Chloe glanced at her phone. Her brow furrowed. She gestured to the exit, he nodded, and she slipped out of her seat and disappeared behind the stands. Where was she going? She wasn’t supposed to meet the informant until the third period and the game had barely started. A shout broke out from the bench. He spun back just in time to see Hodge haul himself over the boards and pelt across the ice into the middle of a face-off, like a cue ball shooting across the table.
“Hodge, what are you doing?” Trent bellowed. “Get back here!”
But his words were swallowed up in a chant of “Fight! Fight! Fight!” erupting from the stands as Hodge ploughed into Johnny.
Hodge grabbed Johnny by the jersey and yanked him sideways as Johnny’s fist ploughed into the side of his head. The ref’s whistle blew. Eli and the coach from the opposing team were already pelting toward the scrum. Aidan, Brandon and Milo were tumbling over the boards, too, yelling at Hodge to stop.
Trent grabbed the boards and leaped over after them, feeling automatic prayers for wisdom cross his heart as he strode across the ice. Lord, what’s happening? I’ve always known Hodge had issues. But to lose it like this in the middle of a game?
Johnny was punching back as good as he got, pummeling Hodge with a blistering force that was all brute strength and no skill. A crowd was forming now as parents, refs and coaches tried to pull them apart. Players on both teams exchanged pushes and insults as the energy seemed to spread.
Trent grabbed Hodge by the collar with one hand and Johnny with the other and physically yanked them apart. Then he straightened his arms, giving just enough torque on the back of their jerseys to make sure they felt the pinch, and marched them to the penalty boxes. He’d broken up wilder fights with killers twice their size. They were just fortunate he didn’t knock their helmeted heads together. He tossed the guys into opposing penalty boxes.
“Sit!” he ordered. Johnny glared at Hodge. Hodge stared at the ground. Trent could hear Eli, still out on the ice, now bellowing at the other team’s coach and the ref. Third-line players skated up and leaned over the boards, waving something at Hodge and yelling. Poppy, Lucy and a handful of other students had run around the stands and yelled at them from the other side, leaving him stuck in the middle.
He didn’t have the patience for this level of angst and hormones. His eyes rolled to the stands and Chloe’s empty seat. Where was his fake fiancée when he needed her? He just had to pray her meeting with Trilly was going better than this. His eyes locked on Hodge. Hodge’s pupils were so large his eyes seemed to bulge. “What did you take? What are you on?”
“Nothing!” Hodge spluttered. “Johnny kissed Poppy! Somebody posted it to social media!”
Johnny swore. “You’re a lunatic.”
Trent was almost tempted to agree. He’d charged into the middle of a hockey face-off and started throwing punches like a caveman because a known player had kissed his girlfriend? But Trent also didn’t believe for a moment that Hodge was sober. Aggression, suggestibility and an adrenaline-like rush, Hodge was practically an advertisement for payara.
“I didn’t kiss Johnny!” Poppy’s voice rose to a wail. She bent over the railing and tried in vain to grab hold of Hodge’s shoulder. “You’ve gotta believe me! We just work out together!”
Aidan launched himself over the boards almost vertically and pushed a cell into Hodge’s hands. Hodge thrust it in Poppy’s face.
“Then explain this!” he demanded. A picture filled the screen that sure did look like Johnny and Poppy locking lips. “Why did somebody post this?”
Why did anybody take it? Trent shook his head.
“That’s not me!” Poppy shouted. “Someone Photoshopped a picture of Johnny kissing somebody else to look like me and then posted it online!”
“Oh, yeah, that’s really logical.” Hodge tried to stand. Trent pushed him back down. “Why would somebody do that?”
“Because they’re a troll, you’re rival teams and they’re trying to cause chaos,” Trent said. It had worked, too. But was that all it was? A fight had broken out on the ice while Chloe just happened to be meeting her informant, because someone had just happened to post a picture of the girlfriend of the worst hothead on his team kissing one of the opposing team’s star players?
“Hodge and Johnny, stay here and don’t move,” he said. “Now, does anybody want to admit to doping Hodge with payara? Or, Hodge, do you want to admit it yourself?”
Hodge glared and shook his head. Nobody else met Trent’s eye. Right.
&nb
sp; “Who posted the picture?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” Hodge grunted.
“Somebody anonymous,” Aidan said.
Of course. Trent turned to face the other players.
“Brandon, go grab Hodge’s water bottle and bring it to me,” he said. Brandon took off across the ice. “The rest of you, get back to your own bench and sit down. Aidan and Milo, I expect you to set an example. Lucy, take Poppy back to her seat. She can sort things out with Hodge after the game.”
Brandon sprinted back with the water bottle. At a glance, Trent could see faint sediment swirling at the bottom.
“Brandon, I’m putting you in charge of that bottle. Hold on to it until Chloe can take it from you. Don’t let anybody else so much as touch it until it can be tested by police. Hodge, you’re going to need to take a drug test. When Eli stops pushing and shoving the opposing coach, tell him I’ll be back in a minute.”
He could hear voices clamoring behind him. He didn’t look back. Instead, Trent sprinted through the risers, through the change rooms and into the hallway. He checked his phone again as his feet pounded down the hall. Nothing from Chloe. Lord, please may I be worried about nothing. He pressed his feet faster, prayers pushing through him with every step. He burst through the emergency exit door and out into the alley. But saw nothing, except garbage cans and piles of snow. Help me, God. Where is she?
Then he heard the sounds of a struggle and ran around the corner just in time to see Royd, the very same thug that had introduced him to the Wolfspiders so many years ago, hold a knife against Chloe’s throat as he dragged her backward toward a van.
If he tried to stop Royd, his former friend would recognize him and his cover would be blown. But if he didn’t, Chloe would die.
* * *
The knife pressed against her skin, threatening to end her life if she made one wrong move. A huge arm tightened over her chest, squeezing the oxygen from her lungs. Her eyes looked up to the snow-filled sky as her neck was forced upward by the prick of the blade digging into her skin. Desperate prayers filled her heart.
Undercover Holiday Fiancée Page 9
