“The team’s struggling, and it’s showing up on the court,” Jay says. “Everyone’s gotten stronger after the trade deadline, but instead of improving, we’re down a shooting guard and dealing with a shitstorm.”
I rise, pacing the room. “You know I like to joke around, but I want this as much as any of you. If you think I took a bump after the all-star game, raise a hand.”
A couple of arms rise slowly.
“You think I risked this team by leaving drugs in my own fucking locker at the Kodiaks’ arena, raise a hand,” I say.
The hands lower.
“When you put it that way,” Atlas starts.
“But what’s the alternative?” Rookie demands.
Grim faces around the circle exchange looks.
“Someone’s targeting the team.” We turn toward the door where Chloe leans against the frame.
“The fuck is she doing here?” Atlas grumbles.
“I asked her to come.”
Jay’s admission has my brows lifting.
“Should we wait on Harlan too? James?” Clay asks deadpan.
Jay ignores him. “As the team captain, I want every guy in here to swear you had nothing to do with this.”
One by one, they do.
“Good. So, it wasn’t one of us. Who’s left?”
Chloe folds her arms. “I spoke to security. They showed me tapes. There was no one unusual there that night.”
“Which means it must have been staff,” Jay says.
Unease ripples through the room.
“There are a couple hundred people in the organization,” Chloe says.
“But how many have access to the locker room?” Rookie asks.
Chloe and Jay exchange a look.
“Thirty,” Chloe says. It sounds like a guess.
“Hard to imagine someone has a hate-on for Miles. So, it’s probably money. Someone who wants us to go down.”
Clay grunts. “Boston. What if Hawkins decided talking wasn’t enough?”
That’s a shitty thought, but he’s not wrong.
“Guy’s been known to skirt the rules,” Jay says slowly.
“We know he’s no Kodiaks fan,” Damon adds.
My mind is trying to piece it together. I see the conversation with Dante the other night in a new light.
“Hell, he was in Vegas, too.” I was talking to him before my drink got spiked.