Page 29 of Head Over Skates

"Don't flatter yourself. Now are you gonna tell me what that childish sticker prank was all about?"

Her eyes dance with wicked delight. “I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about.”

“You think you're funny, don't you? That’s why you were sneaking around the other night. Do I need to get security on you?”

"Simmer down there, big guy. I was just having a little fun. Don't get your shorts in a bunch."

I take a step toward her, using my height to loom over her petite frame. Her smile falters for a split second before the sass returns.

"This little game of yours stops now."

She stands up taller, refusing to be intimidated. "Or what?"

I clench my jaw, tamping down my frustration. She's trying to get a rise out of me. I change tactics, softening my tone.

"Look, I already said I wouldn't reveal your identity if you play nice. But pranks like that make me reconsider our arrangement."

She pokes my chest with one dainty finger. "You were lurking around the arena late the other night, too. You can’t tell on me without exposing yourself."

She has a point. I grab her hand to stop the poking. It's so small compared to mine. Delicate, but strong at the same time.

Her gaze bores into me. "Now tell me what you were up to."

I hesitate, unsure whether to trust her. But the fierce look in her whiskey eyes crumbles my resolve.

"I was investigating the trophy theft, okay?"

Emily's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Wait, you're investigating the robbery?"

"Someone has to get to the bottom of it. I didn't want to just sit around waiting for someone else to solve it."

"Huh," Emily says, clearly intrigued. "So, do you have any suspects?"

I shake my head, reluctantly letting go of her hand. "Not yet. But I have a hunch about someone on the staff. I think he's involved."

"Who is it?"

I blow out a breath. “Mark.” But I quickly add, “This stays between you and me, okay? If Mark realizes I’m on to him, he might do something desperate.”

“Mark the equipment manager? Why do you think he did it?”

I debate how much to reveal. But telling Emily seems less risky than letting her imagination run wild. "He was here. That night. He said he saw the getaway car, but I think he’s just covering his tracks. And the more I thought about it, the more it makes sense it’s an inside job. Whoever stole that trophy knew exactly how long they had before the generator turned back on in order to evade the security cameras.

“They would have to time it just right,” Emily supplied.

“Mmhmm. Plus, his behavior has been… off lately.”

"Off how?" Emily presses. Her reporter's instinct is clearly kicking in now.

"He's been staying late a lot, even when there's no reason for him to be here. And he got weirdly defensive earlier today when I asked what he was doing the night of the theft."

Emily taps her chin thoughtfully. "That does seem suspicious. Have you told the cops?"

I let out a derisive laugh. "Like they'd take the hunch of some hockey player seriously. I need more concrete proof first."

“Do… you have a plan?”

“I thought I might find some evidence in Mark’s office. But it would have to be late. Really late, after he goes home for the night.”

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