Page 31 of My Athlete Neighbor

"Just you." She started pacing again. "And building maintenance for emergencies, I guess. And..." She stopped abruptly. "Don't they keep spare keys in the management office? For like, when people lock themselves out?"

"Yeah, they do." Kane's brow furrowed. "Actually, I saw Mrs. Peterson in there last week. She was dropping off some kind of form and had a ring of keys with her."

"Mrs. Peterson has building keys?"

"She's on some kind of emergency contact list. Helps out when people go on vacation, that sort of thing."

A thump in the hallway made them both jump. Allison's heart leaped—maybe the thief returning the puck?—but when Kane yanked open the door, it was just Oliver struggling with his gym bag.

"Hey," he said, raising an eyebrow at their tense expressions. "Everything okay?"

"Fine," they answered in unison.

Oliver looked skeptical but shrugged. "All right then. See you at practice tomorrow, Cap."

They waited until his footsteps faded before speaking again.

"Mrs. Peterson's apartment is on two," Kane said. "We should—"

"Way ahead of you." Allison was already heading for the stairs.

The second floor was quiet except for the muffled sound of someone's TV. They knocked on 2B, but no answer.

"Maybe she's not home?" Kane suggested.

"Looking for Mrs. P?" Jenny's voice made them both spin around. She was coming up the stairs with her laundry basket. "She left for bingo about an hour ago. She was acting kind of weird though."

Allison's stomach tightened. "Weird how?"

"Muttering to herself about 'protecting the team's destiny' and something about how 'sometimes drastic measures are necessary.'" Jenny shifted her basket to her hip. "I figured it was just her usual superstition stuff. You know how she gets before big games."

Kane and Allison exchanged looks.

"When does bingo usually end?" Kane asked casually.

"Around nine, I think? She never misses her Tuesday night game at St. Michael's." Jenny's eyes narrowed. "Why? What's going on?"

"Nothing," they said together.

Back in Allison's apartment, Kane pulled out his phone. "Maybe there's something in the building chat..."

"Good idea." Allison grabbed her own phone, scrolling through the day's messages. Lots of playoff excitement, debate about lucky food for Saturday's game, Mrs. Peterson's usual updates about her knitting progress, and then...

"Found something," Kane said. "'Sometimes a grandmother must do what a grandmother must do.' Posted right after Jenny saw her leaving."

"Look at her earlier messages." Allison turned her screen so Kane could see. "'Team needs all the luck they can get for playoffs.' 'Can't leave anything to chance.' 'Some treasures are too important to risk.'"

"It has to be her." Kane checked his watch. "It's only seven. We have two hours until bingo ends."

"So we wait." Allison sank onto her couch.

He was quiet for a moment, absently playing with her fingers. "The pressure of being captain... it's not just about winning games. It's about keeping everyone focused, confident. The guys really believe in the puck's magic. If they found out we lost it right before playoffs..."

"Their confidence would shatter."

"Yeah." He squeezed her hand. "And I know it's just superstition. I know we're winning because we're playing better, working harder. But..."

"But a little magic doesn't hurt?"

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