Page 204 of The Blame Game

She frowned. “No, actually. I asked Mitchell and he was kind of evasive …”

Another tick in the suspicious column.

“God, I just can’t believe Mitchell would do something like that,” she whispered, apparently coming to a similar conclusion as Dom.

“Well,” Dom said. “We don’t know anything for sure. And I don’t want to accuse a perfectly innocent person.”

It had to be Mitchell, but Dom had already been a suspicious dick to Antoni last fall. After that, he’d vowed not to let his paranoia get the better of him.

What if they were wrong about all of this?

“Of course not,” Birdie said. “I know you wouldn’t do that.”

Dom smiled a little weakly, feeling even more guilty. “I was just thinking maybe you could ask Mitchell a few things. Dig more into the boyfriend angle. See if there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for everything.”

“What do we do if it is him though?” she asked.

“Well, I wouldn’t do anything without talking to Kate first,” he cautioned her.

She laughed. “Yeah, smart. I’d hate to get on her bad side.”

“But if it is him, maybe there’s a way we can get all of this to go away quietly,” Dom said thoughtfully. “Like, if he could put in his notice and find a job elsewhere …”

A sad look crossed Birdie’s face. “Yeah, I guess that would be best if it is him, right? The last thing the team needs is another public scandal.”

“Exactly.”

Especially when the potential for a very, very large one loomed on the horizon. So far, everything had been quiet but they kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Birdie straightened, looking Dom in the eye. “Okay. I hope you’re wrong but I’ll see what I can find out.”

“Thanks, Birdie,” he said, feeling grateful. “I appreciate it.”

“Of course! We’ve gotta protect the team.” She hesitated, chewing at her lip. “I can tell Colton about what we talked about though, right?”

He hesitated, then nodded. He could hardly ask her to keep it quiet from her partner.

Dom had never understood why players were always telling their wives—or spouses and partners—about things that happened with the team, but he got it now.

He did the same with Shea.

“Yeah, tell him whatever you want,” Dom said. “Just make sure he knows it shouldn’t go further than that.”

She reached out and squeezed his arm. “Of course. Your secret is safe with us.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

The energy in LA’s arena was palpable.

Excitement thrummed in Dom’s veins as he skated around the Fisher Cats’ half of the ice during warmups. It felt oddly fitting that they were up against the LA Suns for the final round of the playoffs.

Tonight was game one and although the arena was packed with LA fans, there were pops of white, green, and black scattered throughout the crowd.

He let himself remember his first game in this barn, nearly two decades ago. The wins and the losses that had piled up over those years. The Cup he’d lifted here, the Conn Smythe trophy he’d won that season as most valuable player.

He’d dazzled crowds here, nearly twenty thousand people cheering his name.

Ol-son, Ol-son.

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