Page 77 of Ice Ice Maybe
He pulled back onto the highway, then took the next exit and stopped in the Wendy’s parking lot, killing the engine with a sigh.
“What now?” I asked, my mind racing for solutions, but coming up blank.
“Bonnie, please call Belle,” Nolan said. “Find out where they are and if they’re okay.”
She did as instructed, but the call went straight to voicemail. She left a message, then kept trying repeatedly. We waited for what seemed like an eternity, tension thick in the air, until finally, Belle returned the call.
“There you are!” Bonnie answered, putting it on speakerphone. “Where are you? We have been worried sick!”
Belle’s low voice crackled through the phone, her earlier enthusiasm completely vanished. “We’re at the police station. Mitch was arrested.”
I exchanged horrified glances with Nolan.
This day had just gone from bad to worse.
Chapter Nineteen
Nolan
If someone had told me two weeks ago that I’d be living this bizarre reality, I would’ve laughed myself right off my Zamboni. Life in San Diego had been blissfully simple: keep the arena ice pristine for the players and make sure Mario Le Meow’s litter box didn’t become a biohazard.
Those were the good ole’ days.
Now? I was tearing through Nashville in a borrowed luxury car, with a stranger in the backseat, and the girl of my dreams riding shotgun. Our mission? Retrieve a stolen wedding ring from a twitchy Neanderthal hockey player who once dated the woman I’ve somehow fallen for in record time.
My world had flipped faster than a hockey player’s stick in a face-off, leaving me wondering which end was up. And yet, as I glanced at Zena beside me, I couldn’t help but think that all this chaos was worth it.
As we neared the police station, Zena’s phone rang again, for the third time. She glanced at it, her face paling as she ignored the call.
“It’s Dad again,” she said with the enthusiasm of someone getting ready for life-threatening surgery. “Obviously, he already knows.”
I nodded grimly. “No doubt. Let’s hope your mom’s keeping his heart rate below freakout level.”
“Dad will be calm once Mitch is released, and he’s on that plane to Tampa,” Zena said, her voice tight with worry.
“And he will be,” I assured her, though worry was all I felt. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.”
“I don’t understand why Mitch doesn’t want to play tomorrow,” Bonnie said. “He’s one of the best players in the league and he had such a great game last night.”
“It’s a long story,” I said, not wanting to get into it with her. “Let’s just say that sometimes, what happens off the ice can affect what happens on it. Even the best players have their demons to face. But hopefully, everything will be resolved and he’ll be playing in Tampa tomorrow.”
“And the ring?” Bonnie asked. “What does that have to do with all this?”
“That’s a big misunderstanding,” Zena said, coming to my rescue, since I wasn’t sure how to answer the question. “I think Mitch was having a little fun by taking it, but we need to get it back because it’s not our property.”
I couldn’t have said it better myself.
As we turned the corner and the police station came into view, my stomach dropped. “Okay, this is not good.”
The parking lot had transformed into a media frenzy. A line of news vans occupied one side, their satellite dishes already raised and operational. The air was filled with a cacophony of voices as reporters spoke into microphones, some gesturing toward the police station entrance. I was certain I knew who they were all talking about.
Bonnie leaned forward from the backseat. “This is a madhouse.”
“It certainly is,” Zena said with dread. “The news vultures have caught the scent of Mitch’s arrest.”
I parked the car and turned to Zena, our eyes meeting. “Cross your fingers your parents aren’t already here.”
Our mission was clear, but far from simple. We needed to get to Mitch before Mr. and Mrs. Dalton did, discreetly convince him to give us the ring back, and keep Mrs. Dalton in the dark about its existence.
