Page 60 of Mistletoe Face Off

I rearrange my features into mild journalistic interest. “No. I did not. I'm assuming that's why you wanted to meet me? To tell me about this alleged scandal?”

“It's not alleged. It happened.” He takes another sip of his scotch, again wiping his hand across his mouth.

Someone needs to get this guy a napkin.

“Doping.”

I blink him in shock. “Excuse me?”

“Let me spell it out for you, missy,” He begins and I can't help but bristle at his condescension. “Harrison Clarke, Blizzard defenseman, the hockey player everybody loves, was involved in a doping scandal back when he was a teenager living in Portland.” He leans back in his chair, satisfied with his inflammatory statement.

I stare at him in disbelief. “By doping you mean performance enhancing drugs?” I ask, trying to keep my tone level.

“Yup,” he replies gruffly.

I might only have started spending time with Harry recently, but from what I know of him, I can't imagine he would ever be involved in something as down and dirty as using performance enhancement drugs, particularly not as a teenager.

I search my memory banks for something—anything—to do with Harry and figure skating from our time in high school. I draw a total blank. He was Mr. Hockey back then, right from when he arrived at our school at the start of Senior Year, attracting the kind of attention a cute new athletic guy does, but figure skating? He sure wasn't known for that.

But then there’s the fact he can move and jump and twist and turn like a figure skater, as he showed us that time at the arena.

“I didn’t think you knew,” Don says with a grin.

“When was this?” I ask, my heart banging like a drum.

“It all happened when he was about sixteen or seventeen, before he moved to Chicago. In fact, my contact told me he andhis mom moved here because of the scandal. Fresh start and all that. That's when he switched to hockey.”

My brain races to make sense of all this. I didn't know him before he moved to Chicago. It's possible he was a figure skater back when he lived in Portland. But I cannot reconcile the man I know with a cheat.

“Can you corroborate this, Mr. Mitchell? If true, this is a serious allegation. It would mean Harrison Clarke broke the law.”

“Yup.”

“Could I meet your contact to talk about it firsthand.”

He shakes his head, twisting his face. “No can do. He's private like that, especially after the scandal.”

“Surely you can see that something as serious as an allegation of doping needs to be corroborated. I can't just go on a story from you, someone who wasn't present during this alleged scandal.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “I thought you hated the guy.”

This guy thinks I would run a story without getting my facts straight simply because I supposedly hate someone? I wouldn’t even do that to Slippery Stephen.

“My feelings about Harrison Clarke are irrelevant right now. It’s the facts that matter, Don.”

He puts his hands in the air. “Take it or leave it, missy. I got other people lining up to meet me.”

I take a sip of my Diet Coke, stalling for time. I need to be objective about this, get what Don knows and then go digging further.

“What can you tell me about what happened back then?”

He leans his elbows back on the table, a smile teasing his lips. “He was a hot shot figure skater. You know the type: crazy good from a young age. They were calling him a child prodigy. He got local press coverage and everything.”

I knit my brows together. Surely I would know about this if he was such a big deal back then, if not now then back when I was a teenager?

“No one’s ever talked about Harrison Clarke being a figure skater.”

“That's because he changed his name after the scandal.”

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