Page 6 of Blood on the Rocks

“Really?” Chris asked. He sat up straighter, leaned in closer to Seraphina, his eyes an incredibly intense shade of blue. “What do you mean?”

She wasn’t sure if it was because of her silly crush or if she felt uncomfortable talking about something that had been so closely guarded to herself that she would rarely even tell Katella, but Seraphina felt herself leaning back, as though trying to pull away from Chris’s orbit, in order to keep her head up from drowning.

“Well, he never went into detail,” she explained. Seraphina didn’t want to hinder the investigation, but her secrets between she and her grandfather were the only things she had of him that nobody else possessed. Her sister didn’t even share these tidbits of stray information with him. And now she was expected to share it not only with Katella, but a stranger. “He would ask me what I would do, given a particular situation. He would give me both sides to the story, or the situation, and I would tell him what I thought. I never knew what he was going to do until he did it, and sometimes, I never learned what hypothetical we talked about turned into a reality.”

Chris said nothing, but furiously took notes. “You inherited the team?” he asked, not looking up, still writing.

“Uh, yes, yes I did,” Seraphina responded.

“And you’re okay with this?” Chris asked, directing the question at Katella.

Seraphina could tell her sister was getting annoyed with this question due to the way her lips pursed and a wrinkle formed between her brows. Before she met Matt, her patience was nearly as thin as Seraphina’s, but apparently relationships required patience and needed to acquire that patience. And she did, but there were moments, such as this one, when the threat of losing it was pressing.

“I have my own company I need to run,” she said. Her voice was a bit shaky as it came out of her mouth, only because she was trying – and failing – to control the tone of her voice so it didn’t come out sounding snarky. “My grandfather came to me before he... died and asked me what I thought about this and I agreed that Seraphina should get the team. She should do it.”

“Uh huh.” His voice was hard to decipher; was he just so entirely consumed with his writing or was he bored with how the interview was going? “Did either of you know that the team was losing money?” Now his eyes snapped up, probably to gage the sisters’ reactions.

“No,” they both said once again. “He never talked about losing money,” Seraphina said.

“Well, we have his financial books and it seems that he was losing money.” He stopped, reaching up to rub his high forhead with his fingers. “Or, I guess I should say, the franchise was losing money.”

“Just because the team was losing money doesn’t mean Papa was going to sell the Gulls,” Katella said. Her patience was gone, Seraphina could tell, but her voice was controlled. “He created the team, put money into Sea Side so the team had a place where they could play home games. I don’t care if he was close to bankruptcy, there is no way my grandfather would have sold the team.”

“Not even to spend more time with you guys?” Chris asked, pushing his brow up. He glanced between the two of them before looking back down at his notebook and flipping through some sheets. “I talked to Simon Spade, your grandfather’s financial advisor, and he said that Ken was considering selling the team in order to spend more time with the two of you.”

Both sisters opened their mouths to say something, but nothing came out.

“I mean,” Chris pressed, “could it be a possibility that he was maybe considering it and just hadn’t told you?”

“I,” Seraphina began, but then stopped. “I guess it could be a possibility.”

“I don’t think so,” Katella said, shaking her head. “No way. We live five, ten minutes away from him. I’m involved in coordinating the team’s charity events and dating the team’s captain, and Seraphina helps him make decisions whether she knows the details or not. He knew he could call us and we’d be over there at the drop of a hat. And we always see each other on Sundays, no matter what. He loved that team. There was no way he was going to sell it.”

“So you’re saying Mr. Spade is wrong?” Chris asked.

Katella opened her mouth, closed it, before finally saying, “In this case, yes, I say that he’s mistaken. Maybe he interpreted something my grandfather said in the wrong way or misheard something. But I’m sorry, I don’t believe my grandfather wanted to sell the team.”

Chris nodded his head, rubbing his lips together as he took a few more notes. The scratch of the pen against the paper was the only sound in the quiet dining room.

“One last set of questions, ladies,” he said, giving them a disarming smile. Seraphina felt her heart flutter at the sight of it, but from the corner of her eyes, she could tell her sister was unmoved. “Thanks again for your cooperation. We’re almost done here.” He flipped through his pages until he reached what Seraphina assumed was a blank page just waiting for him to write down their responses.

If she was being honest, Seraphina felt herself start to get annoyed with all the questions being asked. She wasn’t sure if Katella’s attitude was rubbing off on her or if she was just getting sick of it, but not even Chris’s charm and good looks could dissuade her from starting to feel a tad frustrated.

“Right, did either of you know of a small disagreement between your grandfather and one of his players, a Brandon Thorpe, the goaltender?” Chris asked.

“I don’t know Brandon personally,” Katella said, and her voice took a tone of unease. “But I know of him. Obviously. Matt just mentions that he doesn’t really go out with the guys after practice or games. I never heard of a dispute.”

“What kind of dispute?” Seraphina interrupted.

“Financial,” Chris said and then chuckled to himself. “I apologize. It’s not funny. But really, what else of disputes are there, you know? Anyway, the people I’ve interviewed mentioned that Thorpe was supposed to sign a few weeks ago, but decided at the last minute to hold out for a bigger salary, and that seemed to ruffle Ken’s feathers, so to speak.”

“I didn’t know that,” Katella said.

“I...” Seraphina sighed through her nose, glancing at the wooden table. “Papa called me in a couple of weeks ago to talk about a player. He never mentioned a name, but obviously I knew it was someone from the team. Basically, he talked about a player who was supposed to sign but decided to hold out for more money. He wanted to know what I would do if I was in his position – do I trade him to another team and get another player that would ultimately cost less but isn’t as good a player, or do I keep him, pay the salary, and keep the good goalie. I asked him a few questions – was there any way to compromise? Was this player really serious about wanting all this money? And he answered.” Seraphina gripped the armrests of her seat. “I don’t know what he chose to do. He didn’t tell me.”

“Well, what advice did you give to him?” Chris asked.

Seraphina had to think about it, her mind swimming past the strong currents of his recent death before she found what she was looking for. “My grandfather is adamant about certain things,” she began. “For example, the Gulls Girls aren’t only required to be beautiful and outgoing and have a passion for the Gulls, but if they’re students, they have to have at least a 3.0 GPA. It wasn’t a league requirement or anything, it was his. When it comes to his actual players, he wanted them to not only possess good skills on the ice, but he wanted somebody courteous and approachable off the ice. He wanted them to look at the team as a family, and wanted them to create a bond with each other, to possess a strong sense of loyalty to the team. My grandfather rarely made trades; he believed that just give it some time, encourage the guy, and have a little faith and they would get better. He only traded those guys who were – for lack of a better term – selfish assholes.”

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