Page 14 of Grace on the Rocks

Chapter 6

“I still can’t believeit,” Emma said, taking her usual seat next to her father.

“Believe what?” Jeremy asked. “That Brandon Thorpe was officially brought down to the police station to be questioned or the reaction people have because of it?”

As with the last game, this preseason game was filled. There was probably only a quarter of the stands remaining empty, but with the long line outside the ticket window at Sea Side, it was likely that they would fill up even more.

It still amazed Emma that people could react so strangely to a person being suspected of murder. Supposed fans were now boycotting any and everything that related to the Seagulls, despite the fact that only one member of the team was suspected of the kill, and even then, there was no evidence that warranted the suspicion in the first place. Other people who hadn’t even cared about hockey, let alone the Seagulls, were suddenly eager to buy preseason game tickets or buy merchandise in order to say that they were there while Brandon Thorpe was suspected, they were there during the inevitable trial, and they were there when he was found guilty. No doubt they would try to get the net minder to sign a hat or something on his walk from the courthouse to the awaiting car that would then take him to prison.

There was the media itself, who seemed to occupy its own sort of terrain. Besides the local paper, the media didn’t really get into hockey even during the actual season, save for excerpts every now and then being written in the sports section of The Orange County Register. Hockey’s popularity in Southern California never really took form probably because the sunny weather and lack of exposure. Jeremy would always complain about this to Emma because there was, in his mind and apparently every fan on the west coast, a heavy biased against the west when it came to hockey. As such, teams stationed in the west weren’t as likely to get press as teams from the east, which hurt west coast teams financially and even emotionally. Less coverage meant less fans which meant less support for the team. Unless, of course, the people who claimed to be diehard fans encouraged their own friends, family, spouses, children, parents, siblings and anybody else to get into the game. As such, thorough coverage was difficult to find unless a person went to the Seagulls official website. The only time the press was really interested in the Gulls – possibly garnering a front page story rather than a short paragraph in the sports section – was when the Gulls looked as though they might make playoffs. But since they never did, interest died down and stayed down until the next season.

Now, every form of media was represented tonight. Or, at least, Emma thought they were, considering the swarm of them that had just been forced out of the building. She recognized a sports caster for a local news channel along with two national sports casters and their cameramen. Not only did the local Newport Beach paper have a representative, but so did The Orange County Register, The Los Angeles Times, and even some east coast papers, where hockey was more popular.

Even east coasters couldn’t ignore the Brandon Thorpe murder scandal.

“Not only that,” Jeremy had pointed out as the father and daughter made their way to their seats, “but Ken was a prominent figure in the hockey world. True, the Gulls have yet to make playoffs, but it really says something to have started and managed his own team for this period of time. His death would have been international hockey news, with or without Brandon Thorpe’s supposed involvement.”

Because of his supposed involvement, there was more demand for information about it. In fact, Emma thought she had seen a couple of journalists from Canada. Which would make sense, especially since Thorpe himself was Canadian.

Even mainstream, non-athletic media wanted as much information as possible. Brandon Thorpe wasn’t dating a Kardashian, but he was still a prominent athletic figure and relatively good looking, key factors that made a good news story.

“But he hasn’t even been arrested,” Emma said, leaning back in her chair. Traffic was bad coming in, and with all these people, they had a few minutes before the lights dimmed and the teams were called out for the national anthem to sit down and catch up. “What’s the big deal?”

“Brandon Thorpe is a big deal,” Jeremy said. “And that Ken Brown was the victim in this helped, too. He was an important figure not only in hockey but as a Newport Beach resident. A lot of locals are demanding the case be solved just like a lot of hockey fans are, too.”

Jeremy had to shout over the noise that came from their surroundings. Emma couldn’t help but look around; she had never seen it this crowded before, even during the season. It was an observation that was starting to get repetitive. Normally, she would have welcomed more people in the stands. More people just added to the intensity of the game. She knew that a lot of these people were here for the wrong reasons. And as she gazed at them, she noticed that things were more violent among fans, even for hockey. People were pushing each other, yelling at each other. She even saw one guy slap another guy’s food down so it landed on the concrete floor. With all this tension, she wouldn’t have been surprised to see a fight break out.

“So Thorpe’s not playing tonight, then?” Emma asked, turning back to look at her father.

“I highly doubt it,” he said. “If the police took him in for questioning this morning, he’s probably still there. You’ve seen Law and Order and how the cops try to waste time with their suspect during the questioning while the rest try and find enough evidence for an arrest.”

“But he’ll be released, right? I mean, since they haven’t actually arrested him, he can technically leave whenever he wants.”

Jeremy nodded. “But I think it’s a good thing he’s not here playing tonight,” he said. “The crowd is already rowdy and the puck hasn’t dropped. It’s preseason. And it’s the Gulls. I swear, people need any excuse to start a fight, and Thorpe’s presence might have been that spark. Then again, people might also be disappointed that he’s not here, and start a fight because of that.”

“We’re going to be okay though, right? People aren’t going to riot or anything crazy like that.” She looked around again, wishing the game would just start so people could be temporarily distracted from their anger.

“I’m sure we’ll be fine.” He pointed back towards the entrance of their section. “Seraphina Hanson added more security in order to protect people and break up any fights before they start. See?”

Emma felt herself calm down when she noticed that every usher in every section had a person from security standing next to them with a no-nonsense look on their face. The lights dimmed, and an announcement was made, reminding people not to throw anything on the ice unless they wanted to be arrested. The teams were called out, cheering erupted, and the national was sung.

When Emma and her father took their seats, Jeremy pointed. “Poor girl,” he murmured.

“What do you mean?” Emma asked, looking to where he pointed. She recognized Katella Hanson sitting in her usual place, but her younger sister was nowhere to be found. “I’m sure the press has been hounding the two sisters, Seraphina especially. It doesn’t surprise me to see that she’s not here.”

“I still don’t understand what they expect from her,” Emma said, her eyes focused on the game before her. “Her grandfather just died, both her uncle and her goalie are suspects. I think she’s handling herself well, especially for someone who’s only twenty-three.” She frowned, tilting her head to the side in order to look at her father. “What more could possibly be said about her anyway?”

“You’d be surprised,” her father said flatly. “An anonymous source – I’m beginning to think it’s the same one who just keeps selling the same story to different papers – just continues to rip into her. It’s the usual stuff that’s been said these past few weeks, but it just intensified after she made that public stance in support of Brandon Thorpe. They don’t take her seriously, they think that the only reason she kept him on is because she thinks he’s cute or is sleeping with him. Trust me, there are some pretty funny theories, that she’s carrying his secret love child.”

Emma couldn’t help but chuckle at the last one.

“He’s, like, okay,” Emma said, waving her hand palm down back and forth as though to say half-half. “But even if he was super-hot, she doesn’t seem like the type to sleep with her player.”

“Exactly,” Jeremy said. “The press is just brutal. This source, whoever they are, actually said that Seraphina should have sold the team, and her accepting it just proved her ignorance.”

“Or her loyalty to her family,” Emma muttered. “Everyone needs to just leave her alone. She’s doing better than everyone expected, I think.”

“I agree, but there are still some things she needs to learn.” Jeremy pointed out Katella, an enigmatic look on her face. “For one, Seraphina needs to grow some thick skin. I know I’ve already said that but I think it’s worth mentioning. Take Katella; it’s obvious she’s the strong one. Look at her. She’s sitting right there despite everything that’s happening to her family. It’s easy to use Seraphina as sort of the poster girl for this tragedy because she’s the public figure, she’s the owner, but people need to realize that nearly everything that’s happening to her is happening to Katella. The only difference is that Katella’s here right now. She’s always here. No matter what. And I think that shows a lot of class.”

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