Bear Meets Girl

  Cella saw the looks on the guys’ faces and skated over to them. “Well?”

  Van Holtz and MacRyrie shrugged, but Novikov ... “She’ll need work,” he complained.

  “I know.”

  “All three of them will.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Her skating is beyond rusty. And the other two have the attention spans of fleas.”

  “I know. I know.” Cella didn’t argue. She waited.

  “She’s fast, though,” he finally admitted. “And the foxes, with some serious training, could be pretty good. Maybe.”

  Cella nodded. “I think you’re right. Instead of putting them on right away, why not go your route? Start ’em off in the minors and let them work their way up.” Of course, one of Cella’s uncles was the assistant coach of the minors so Cella kind of worked with the minor team anyway, but no need to mention that.

  Novikov looked off. “Well ... that might work.”

  She glanced at Van Holtz and MacRyrie. They were staring at her, eyes wide, until Van Holtz mouthed at her, How do you do that?

  They sat in Dee-Ann’s car, staring across the street.

  “That’s a ...”

  “Yeah. A country club. For very rich people.”

  “Huh. Learn something new every day.”

  They hadn’t driven all the way from Atlantic City to the Hamptons; they had taken Van Holtz’s helicopter from AC to the Hamptons, a rental car taking them here. To a country club.

  The girl pointed. “He came out of there.”

  “Past that hedge?”

  “Yeah. But I think there’s a door there.”

  “Okay.”

  Sophie briefly chewed her bottom lip.

  “What?”

  “I just don’t know if you should ...”

  “If I should what?”

  “Challenge these people.”

  “Because they’re rich?”

  “Look, I don’t steal some poor guy’s Prius or the Ford he inherited from his dad, you know? That’s not my thing.”

  “You steal from rich people.”

  “And I know my targets. I know them really well. I make it my business to know. Although the town, in theory, owns the country club, there’s a man who runs it. And he’s not dangerous just because he’s rich. He’s dangerous because he knows how to play both sides of any situation. He practically makes me seem like Mother Teresa. Just ... be careful.”

  And that was why Dee hadn’t simply found out from the girl where she’d picked up the Callahan kid and let her go. That sort of information took time to pull from a person. “Thanks for the warning.” Dee handed the girl a business card.

  Sophie turned it over in her hand. “It’s just a number.”

  “It’s my number. You need me, you call. Understand?”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  “Good.” Dee started the car. “Now, let’s see if we can track down a White Castle before I let you go.”

  “You want to track down a White Castle in the Hamptons?”

  Dee grinned. “I believe in livin’ large.”

  “Yeah. I can see that.”

  Cella stood outside the locker room staring up at a bear-canine hybrid who could barely look her in the eye.

  “You don’t have to make any decisions now, Hannah. But you should at least think about it.”

  “Yeah, it’s just ...”

  “Just what?”

  “If I say yes, will they continue to follow me everywhere?”

  Cella glanced over at the twin She-foxes. They waved, identical bright grins on their pretty faces.

  “As it is, I can’t get rid of this one.”

  She pointed at Abby, who’d been hanging out at the Sports Center all day, begging food off people.

  “I don’t know. No one follows me anywhere.” Cella shrugged. “I’m a cat. This sounds like a bear issue. Ask Crush, I think he’s getting coffee.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “But you’ll think about it, right? Maybe go to a few practices just to see?”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  Cella nodded and watched the girl walk off, stop, glare at the foxes now following her, along with Abby, walk, stop, glare. Assuming it would go on all the way down the hall, Cella walked into the locker room to change her clothes and clean out her stuff.

  This had been a good way to end it all. A good way for her to move on. What did they call that? Closure or something? Whatever. It worked out well.

  But as Cella came around the corner, she found Ric Van Holtz standing there, waiting for her.

  “What’s up?” she asked, hoping he wasn’t here to give her some pathetic hug good-bye. Cella hated the hug good-bye unless it was from her kid or her father. Otherwise, it just annoyed.

  “I’ve got your final player payout.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  She took the manila envelope, opening the flap enough to look inside. She didn’t let her eyes bug out at the size of the check, but honestly, she wanted to.

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem. You earned it.”

  “I’ll miss you guys,” she admitted, opening her locker for the last time.

  “Yeah, about that ... I have a job offer.”

  “I don’t need your pity job, Van Holtz. Thanks, but no—”

  “For head coach.”

  Cella froze, eyes wide. “What?”

  “Eventually,” Van Holtz quickly added. “I mean ...” He took a breath. “Coach Reynolds is retiring in a year. We haven’t announced it to the team, but I’d already put out the word to a few agents I know and had gotten in some ré-sumés from a few interested parties, including the coach for the Alaskan Bears. And he was my first choice, really. I mean, he handles a team full of bears and two foxes. There’s gotta be skill there. But I’d forget him in a heartbeat if I could get you.”

  Cella ran her hands through her still sweat-drenched hair and slowly faced the wolf. “You want me to be coach?”

  “Assistant to start and when Reynolds retires ... head coach.”

  Cella just had to ask, “Why?”

  “There’s lots of reasons. I can sit here and rhapsodize about your skill on the ice, your ability to train and get the best out of the rookies, your amazing eye for talent ... I mean, I love Hannah, but I would have never thought of her for the team. But really, it comes down to one thing ...”

  Cella couldn’t help but smile a little. “Novikov?”

  “You handle Novikov and he lets you. That alone is worth its weight in gold. Because if you can handle that man, you can handle anyone.”

  “That’s true. I can handle anyone.”

  “And Novikov isn’t going anywhere. Blayne wants to stay in New York and whether he disgusts me or not, he loves her. So he’s not going anywhere. And even if I wanted to fire him, I can’t because he flippin’ wins.”

  “Yeah, but we’re probably not going to quite hit the play-offs this year.”

  “I know, which means he’s going to be hell to deal with next year. Which is the reason I’m sure Reynolds is getting out while the gettin’ is good. You can’t desert me, Cella. You can’t. We’re friends. You’re friends with my mate. I’m a nice guy. And unless Bert’s around, I have trouble separating that idiot and Lock. So you can’t go. You might not be able to play on the team with your knee, but you can coach and you are probably the only thing that will keep us from ganging up on Novikov and beating him like they did to Vincent D’Onofrio’s character in Full Metal Jacket.”

  Cella laughed, her body relaxing against her locker, her hand covering her mouth.

  “Yeah. Sure. Funny to you. You’re the only one I know, besides Blayne, who gets along with Novikov. And no matter what other offer you get, I’ll beat it.”

  Cella held up her hand. “Other offers?”

  Van Holtz rolled his eyes. “From the Philly team, the Boston team, the San Francisco team. I think there’s a couple more. As soon as they heard you were out as a player, they
began salivating.” He placed his hand against his upper chest. “But you’re my friend. You wouldn’t betray me, would you?”

  “You about to threaten me with your mate?”

  “If I have to.”

  “Well—”

  “Just think about it before you turn me down.”

  “I was just going to—”

  “Think about your situation. Your daughter’s staying in New York to go to school. So you’ll be near her. And Crushek’s here. He, for some unknown reason considering how much the rest of us like him, also gets along with Novikov. Maybe all his experience working with sociopathic drug dealers or something.”

  “Novikov is not that bad! He’s just ... myopic.”

  “Like a fighting dog?” When Cella rolled her eyes, “Hey, he was the one who threw bleachers at Reed and the other guys.”

  “I know, I know. I already talked to him about that. Told him it wasn’t good for the team or morale.”

  Van Holtz smirked at her, one eyebrow up.

  “All right, all right. How about I give you a tentative yes?”

  “Will you sign something?”

  “No. I gotta talk to my own agent and my kid and my dad.”

  “And Crushek?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Because he’s part of your life now?”

  “What are you, Van Holtz? A girl?”

  “According to Dee-Ann’s father? Yes, I am.”

  Crush watched Cella skating around the rink. She was alone. Just her, the ice, her stick, and the puck. While she moved, he could hear her singing the traditional Irish song, “I’m a Man You Don’t Meet Every Day,” her voice sweeter than he ever thought it could be.

  “She’s in a good mood.”

  Crush shook his head and asked, “Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to sneak up on bears?”

  Dee-Ann Smith rested her arms on the low part of the training rink’s wall and watched Cella skate.

  “Y’all call it sneakin’. I don’t call it sneakin’.”

  “What do you call it?”

  “Amblin’.”

  Crush chuckled. “Good to know.”

  “New coach of the Carnivores, huh?”

  “That’s what your mate tells me.”

  “What do you think?”

  “I told him it was about time.”

  He could see Smith look at him a few times before she said, “What about KZS?”

  “What about it?”

  “You going to talk her out of working for them now? So she can devote herself to all things hockey.”

  Crush laughed. A lot. So much so that Smith finally asked, “What’s so funny?”

  “That you think I can talk that woman out of anything she wants to do.” He patted her back. “You’re a funny little She-wolf.”

  Smith grinned. “You’ll have to forgive me, son. I didn’t realize you were one of those evolved males.”

  “I don’t need to evolve. I’m a bear.” He shrugged. “Bears are already perfect. It’s the rest of you that need to catch up.”

  Cella turned and skated over to them. When she stopped, she looked past Crush and Smith.

  “So I walked up to Crushek,” Dez said from behind him, “and started telling him how Baissier took out the taxidermist not too long ago.”

  Wondering what she was talking about since MacDermot hadn’t told him anything like that since the last time he’d seen her, Crush turned around and immediately snarled at the sight of his brothers.

  “When,” Dez continued, “another Crushek walked up to me and said to the first one, ‘Who’s the babe?’ to which the other one replied, ‘Don’t know, but nice tits.’ ”

  “It was a compliment,” Gray stupidly stated, which got him the punch to the balls from Dez that he so richly deserved.

  “Why are you here?” Crush demanded of Chazz since Gray was currently on his knees, hands between his legs.

  “Word is you’re looking for that full-human ... Whitlan.”

  “What? Are you here to warn us off for Baissier?”

  “No. We’re here to warn you that she’s almost got him.”

  Crush glanced back at Cella. “That’s why she took out the taxidermist. She knows where Whitlan is.” Looking back at his brothers, he asked, “But why are you telling me?”

  “Because of what she did,” Chazz replied, his face solemn.

  “What she did to me?”

  Now Chazz looked disgusted. “You? Who gives a shit about you? I’m talking about what she did to ... to ... Bare Knuckles.”

  Crush’s eyes crossed and Smith quickly ducked her head, her shoulders shaking.

  “That was her going too far?” Crush snarled. “That?”

  “You don’t mess with the home team. You’re a complete idiot, but even you know that.”

  Crush took a step toward his brother, but Dez got between them. “How does she know where Whitlan is?” she asked Chazz.

  He shrugged. “I heard she got it out of some girl.”

  Smith looked up. “What girl?”

  “Don’t know? Some full-human.”

  Crush shook his head at Dez. “That can’t be Sophie DiMarco.”

  “It might be,” Smith said and when they all stared at her, she added, “I tracked her down in Atlantic City earlier today.”

  Cella skated around and then walked over until she was in front of Smith. “You did what?”

  “Why are you lookin’ at me like that for?”

  “Because,” Cella snarled, “you goddamn hick! I promised the Callahans she wouldn’t get hurt!”

  “I didn’t hurt her! I just wanted her to take me to where she found Callahan, and I’m thinking that’s where Whitlan is. And when we were done, I put her back on the train to Atlantic City.”

  “Did you see her get on the train?” Crush asked.

  “I did.”

  “Did you see the train leave the station?”

  When Smith didn’t answer, both Dez and Crush groaned.

  Cella took off her helmet. “Oh, my God, Smith, what did you do?”

  “I’m not likin’ your tone.”

  “How would you like my fist?”

  “Bring it, calico!”

  “Stop it!” Dez snapped. “Both of you. We don’t have time for this.”

  “She’s right,” Cella agreed. “Baissier’s going to kill her.”

  “No,” Crush corrected her. “She won’t do that until she has Whitlan in her hands.” He looked at Chazz, while Gray finally got to his feet behind him. “Where’s Whitlan?”

  Chazz and Gray gave identical shrugs and said together, “The Hamptons.”

  Crush looked at the three females, then said, “The Hamptons? Really?”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  The black Range Rover door opened and Peg stepped out. Her team surrounded her. She’d chosen only the most loyal for this, but was still disappointed in the Crushek boys. They were still whining about what had been done to that idiot cat all because of some stupid hockey team.

  Whatever. They were of no use to her at the moment anyway. That was the girl. The full-human girl the Group and KZS had been busy trying to protect turned out to be the key. It’s what Crushek and the others hadn’t know about the little thief—it had been Whitlan’s car she’d been stealing that day she’d rescued the cat. And what Peg had found out about Sophie DiMarco was how very good she was at her job. One of three thieving sisters, Sophie didn’t just steal cars, she studied her mark. Learned everything about them. Who they were, where they lived, what their hobbies were. In the end, the girl had known more about Whitlan than any of them—including where he’d been hiding for the past couple of weeks.

  “Bring the girl,” she said, and walked into the country club. Another group of her men met her inside. “Well?”

  One of the sows held up a full-human man by the neck. His face was battered, his arms nearly pulled from the sockets, some of his scalp missing. But he was still alive.

  Peg stepped clos
er. “Where’s Whitlan?” she asked.

  Shaking, his body slowly dying, the man stuttered out, “Base ... basement.”

  “Good boy.” Peg stroked his face with her gloved hand and turned away. “Let’s go.”

  She headed toward the stairs, but stopped, looked back at her people. “And keep your eyes open. The boy might show up and try something stupid.”

  When she was confident that everyone understood, she walked on, heading to the basement.

  Sophie heard the back door of the Range Rover open and she was yanked out. These ... whatever the hell they were ... they kept yanking her and dragging her everywhere. There wasn’t a subtle one in the bunch. Not like that woman with the weird eyes. She’d been tall with wide shoulders, and you could smell the predator on her. These guys were really tall and wide, but they were like the mobsters she sometimes dealt with. Not big on brains and they thought their size alone gave them the only edge they needed.

  Although her wrists were left bound in front of her, the blindfold covering her eyes was removed and she took a second to look around. “Yeah,” she said to the guy holding her. “Really makes sense to make me wear that since I was the one who told you how to get here.”

  He tightened his grip on her bicep and Sophie had to grit her teeth together to stop herself from screaming.

  “I can hurt you now,” he whispered to her. “Or I can hurt you later. Your choice.”

  “That’s not really much of one,” she shot back. “But nice try.”

  He started to walk. When Sophie dragged her feet, he swung his arm forward, yanking her around. Using the momentum, Sophie bent her knees and swung her tied fists up and into the guy’s groin. He squealed, a sound that startled her, and then dropped to the ground, hands between his legs. Sophie took off running toward the other side of the road.

  She made it to the line of trees and ran inside. But with her arms bound and the darkness of the night, the moonlight not helping much with all those trees, she kept stumbling. She could already hear at least one, probably more, of those guys coming after her. They’d be mad now, once they got her. But she couldn’t have just waited for them to kill her. And they would kill her. She knew that.

  A hand wrapped around her throat, choking off both screams and her ability to breathe. She was lifted off the ground, her feet dangling, and brought up to look the man in the eyes.