The Slot: A Rochester Riot Sports Romance (14 page)

“Roger that, chief,” she said, hitting her speed dial for their police unit captain. “Kristoff,” she said as forcefully as possible without attracting attention. “Get Sheehan into the secure area.” Owner protection was paramount in any public situation. Sheehan’s arrogance often caused him to disregard protocol and appear in the open without his bodyguards, but not tonight. Not on her watch, she vowed, as she moved quickly to the exit. As much as she’d like the pompous, disgusting man to get the shit kicked out of him, it wasn’t going to happen on an important night.

“Unit to sector zero,” she said into the phone, giving the muster code location to the captain.

When she reached the main entrance, the view to the exterior was almost completely blocked with the bodies of civilians and security staff alike. Between the cracks, she saw limousines and taxis cruise past, slow down, then take off again to avoid the messy scene. Police cruisers pulled up with lights flashing, and officers moved in quickly to subdue the crowd. Fear gripped her in the ensuing minutes, more terrifying than any she’d ever experienced. Witnessing out-of-control people getting tasered left her with a sick feeling in her stomach.

Eloise watched in horror as the surreal scene unfolded. Finally, officers took a few people into custody and were able to disperse the last of the demonstrators. She saw Trevor Reynolds being folded into the back of a police SUV. She hoped he’d taken responsibility as the ringleader so that most of the others could leave in peace. That at least would show some shred of integrity, but somehow Eloise doubted it. Trevor possessed zero ability to assess right from wrong.

Moving ahead with the coalition put Cole in a bad situation, pitting him between his job and someone he considered to be a friend. It was unthinking and selfish. Some people never changed.

She retraced her steps back to the arena. The Riot were up three to zero heading into the second period, and she’d made it very clear to the executives and press box that the players weren’t to be told what had gone on outside until after the game. She waited on pins and needles until the horn sounded for the final time. A three to two win for the Riot. She texted Cole to meet her at the player’s exit as soon as he was finished in the dressing room.

“What’s up?” he said once he was able to join her, a look of alarm on his face that must have matched her own.

“The coalition pulled a stunt, just like we were afraid of. They blockaded the entrances to Murphy’s Finest and the police had to get involved. They arrested Trevor.”

“Fuck,” Cole said and looked at her closely. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “I think we should go to the police station and see what’s going on.”

He frowned. “Are you sure? I can go if you’d rather avoid seeing him.”

Exhaling a long breath, she shook her head. “No. I’m done being afraid. I want to go.” She gave him a little grin. “Besides, it might feel good seeing him behind bars.”

He kissed her. “That’s my girl.”

They found Trevor in the downtown lockup about an hour later, sulking but relatively calm. The officers had informed them they’d be keeping him overnight on charges of public mischief. When he saw her and Cole, he squared his shoulders and turned away.

“Trey, you had to know this would happen. I tried to warn you, man.”

“What’s she doing here?” Trey muttered with his back turned.

“I’m the Community Relations Director for the Riot,” Eloise said. “It’s my job to protect the image of the team, its staff, and its property. If I’d had a choice, I wouldn’t have involved the police.”

“Yeah, well you did,” he growled, pivoting to face them, his hands clutching the vertical bars of the cell. He no longer cut the golden boy football star profile that Eloise had once known. At the moment, he just looked like an angry bull, frustrated and trapped, putting on a tough-guy face to mask his fear. In spite of what he’d done all those years ago, she felt sorry for him. Nothing saddened her more than wasted potential.

“I thought you were my friend,” Trey spat, jutting his chin at Cole.

“I thought you were mine,” Cole tossed back.

“In what way have I not been your friend?” he asked. “We had a lot of laughs together. You’re practically my business partner. How have I ever let you down? Just because you’re fucking someone from my past?”

Cole waved his hand around the dingy holding area. “Like this!” he said. “You’ve created bad publicity for my team, my career, only thinking of your own interests. If Murphy’s bar goes down, guess what. He may have to make choices – to cut his payroll and sell off a few assets. Like me.”

“Aw, don’t bullshit me about choices,” Trey whined. “You had a choice to help us and take our issues seriously, but no. You stood by and let the asshole millionaire’s pet project steamroll right over us.”

Cole’s eyes narrowed. “I tried to help you by using my status as a professional athlete to advertise your establishment. So did Eloise. And what do you do? Stab my employer in the back. On top of that, I find out you’ve deeply hurt someone I care about, in ways you can’t even imagine.”

Trey genuinely looked at Eloise for what seemed like the first time in twelve years. “Like how? A little make-out session in the woods? Jesus, we were just kids. Young and stupid. You seem fine now, with your high-powered job. I’m stuck in this frozen two-horse town, struggling to keep my business alive. I’ve got alimony to pay. I’m nearly bankrupt. How was I to know we’d end up in the same town all these years later – that you two would meet? Give me a fucking break.” Trey pushed away from the bars and walked to the back of the cell.

“You wanna know how you’ve hurt her?” Cole said, his voice rising. “You
sexually assaulted
her, and you don’t even remember it.”

Eloise grabbed his arm to interrupt him. He jerked his face toward her. She shook her head. “No, don’t.” Cole bit back his unfinished sentence.

“You don’t know me, or what happened after you moved away, Trevor,” Eloise said. “Or what kind of person I am today or what I had to do to get here, and I certainly didn’t know what became of you when you left without even a goodbye. It’s water under the bridge. But I can say that it’s made me stronger.”

Trey folded his arms and turned toward her, face ashen with regret. “The bridge,” he said. “What happened?”

“You really don’t remember?” she asked.

“No. I’d just found out that my parents were divorcing and we were moving, like right away. I wanted to get drunk, to not think about how everything was going to change.” He stared at her. “I remember drinking but… then I remember waking up in my bed in a puddle of puke. My parents were fighting and everything was shot to hell. Then I was in Wisconsin trying to build a new life.”

He really didn’t remember. She wasn’t sure how to feel about it. She would have to think about that later because right now, she had work issues to sort out.

“I’m sorry for your problems,” Eloise said. “You think I don’t understand the little guy? I worked hard at school and was lucky enough to get this amazing job. But my dad worked fifty-hour work weeks bolting up steel pipe for thirty years to support our family; so I know about trying to make ends meet, get ahead, and build something you can be proud of. But what I can’t understand is how you could put Cole in such a position of having to either side with you or protect his career. A true friend wouldn’t do that.”

Trevor stood facing the wall. He seemed to have shut down and stopped listening altogether. After a few icy minutes of silence, Eloise shook her head and turned to Cole. He cast a dark glance into the lockup, then back to her. “Let’s go. He deserves a night in jail.”

Chapter Fifteen

The team traveled out of state for games three and four of the series, leaving Eloise to catch up on her desk work. The opening for
Murphy’s Finest
had been a success in spite of the coalition’s interference. They were still lobbying the City Planning and Zoning Department as well as the Liquor and Gambling Commission, but Eloise doubted anything would come of it. Why couldn’t people just get along with each other? She’d done her best to try and show the community how everyone could benefit, but some folks were just plain stubborn and refused to compromise.

Her phone rang, and Kylie announced that Kristoff waited to see her. “Send him in,” she replied with a sigh. Like it or not, they were still colleagues. She steeled herself for the shit-storm that typically followed any contact with her smarmy ex.

“El, my dear, I see you’re still hard at work,” Kristoff said, breezing casually into her office.

He wore a knitted purple tie that Eloise had hated when he bought it and still did. She gave him a fake smile. “Unlike some people.”

He smirked and dismissed her comment. Without waiting for an invitation, he seated himself in one of the visitor chairs facing her. “Well, I hope you’re setting aside a few hours to trawl Monster because I hear Sheehan is looking around for a replacement for you.”

Eloise stared at him for a long moment, deciding if she’d get more pleasure out of stabbing him or strangling him. “You just can’t let it go, can you?” she finally said. “After five years, you still can’t accept that the better man – or in this case, woman – got the job, or come to terms with your own mediocrity. You sicken me. And by the way, I reported you and your disgusting comments to HR. Mr. Murphy can get away with it because he owns this franchise. You cannot.”

Kristoff feigned sympathy. “El, sweetheart, I’m only telling you this as a favor to give you a head start on your job search, so you can leave with dignity. Isn’t that what friends do?”

Her eyes narrowed as she rose from her chair. “I’ve had quite enough examples lately of what ‘friends’ do for each other, Kristoff. Whatever you and I were to each other in the past, it wasn’t friends. Now get the fuck out of my office.”

Kristoff stood to leave. “I’ll come back with my tape measure later,” he said with a chuckle. “I might want new drapes in here. Your decorating style is a little too redneck for me.”

Eloise wished she kept a dog in the office, one that would growl, attack, and bite his heels until he ran the hell out of her office and her life for good. She watched him go, and in a flash, Kylie popped her head inside her door. “Are you alright?” she asked, glancing back to ensure Kristoff had disappeared. “What the heck was that all about?”

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out, right now.” She marched out of the room and headed straight for Sheehan Murphy’s office. Barbara’s desk sat empty, but Sheehan’s door was open. As she took a few steps toward it, she overheard him talking on his phone.

“You’ll get the money by secure e-transfer,” Sheehan said. A pause. “Now George, you know I always reward the people who help me. This is no different.”

Eloise stopped in her tracks. His conversation smacked of something less than above-board business dealings. She moved noiselessly off to the side of the doorframe and put her back to the wall. On impulse, she pulled out her cell phone and activated the video app. She angled her arm just enough to catch a half-view of Sheehan on the screen. He hunched over his desk with the phone to his ear, unaware of her presence.

“That
Little House on the Prairie
crowd doesn’t do a damn thing for this city, and you know it,” he grumbled. “I bring money into the community with world-class entertainment. We’re going all the way this year, I can feel it. I’m bringing Rochester the goddamn Stanley Cup, George. Isn’t that worth a little red rejection stamp on one lousy appeal?” Another pause. “It’s a fucking piece of paper that can be buried so deep up your department’s ass no one will ever find it. Just send ole Half-Pint to Oleson’s Mercantile and get it done.”

Eloise sucked in a breath, cursing herself for inadvertently making a noise.
Holy shit!
She realized that the person on the other end of the conversation was George Taylor, the chairman of the Board of Appeals for the Rochester Planning and Zoning Department. The coalition must have filed their appeal, and Murphy was going to pay to have it killed. She knew he was a douche, but this maneuver belonged in the fucking Douchebag Hall of Fame. Her hand trembled as she tried to keep the phone steady.

“I don’t give a fuck how many signatures they collected. I’ll pay you fifty bucks for every single one, straight into your pocket on top of my original offer. Reject the appeal, and we can all get on with our comfortable lives. It’s so simple. You’re looking at retirement soon, aren’t you, George? Think what this little nest egg will do for you and your lovely wife.”

She had to hand it to Murphy, he had a killer’s instinct and knew exactly the tender spots to stick his knife. She hoped Mr. Taylor could resist Sheehan’s Irish Mafia charm. Murphy turned his head, and Eloise dropped her arm out of sight.

“I knew you’d see it my way, George. You’re a good man, you’ve done the city proud.”

***

Eloise kept the video quiet for a day while considering her alternatives on what to do. Bribing a city official would not only get Sheehan in deep trouble, but also Mr. Taylor. As much as Sheehan deserved a reckoning, it would hurt both the team and the city if this info ever got out. A no win situation if ever one existed.

The players had returned to Rochester for game five of their series, having dropped one game on the road but still leading three games to one. A win at home on Friday would send them off to the next round and bring them one step closer to the Cup. Eloise also worried about the situation at
Blues & Brews
and whether Cole and Trey had decided to patch things up.

She had no idea the coffee house was struggling and had a feeling Cole didn’t either. On her lunch hour, she decided to stop by
Blues
and discovered Cole already there enjoying one of his signature coffee creations. He was glad to see her, but Trey took one look at her and disappeared into the back.

“Sorry, am I interrupting something?” she asked.

“I think he’s just embarrassed. After talking to him, I truly believe he was so wasted that night he has no idea what really happened. No excuse, but I had to let you know for what it’s worth. I don’t expect you to forget and I never will either. But I had some ideas on how to help him with this place. Trey didn’t seem to want to talk about it.”

Eloise nodded, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. Forgive and forget. She’d have to work on the forgive part, but she’d never, ever forget. Trey’s actions had changed her life and changed her as a woman.

Cole smiled and led her to the stool next to him. “What brings you here?”

“I need some advice. I’ve come across some information. Something bad that could either hurt or help the team, and I’m not sure what to do with it.”

“Sounds like you need a little caffeinated courage,” he said. “What can I fix you?”

Eloise cocked her head from side to side. “How about that Ki – Kigali…whatchamacallit.”

Cole smiled and bounced eagerly behind the bar. “One Kigali Kong coming up.”

***

After spending most of the afternoon at
Blues
, Eloise called Kylie and told her she wouldn’t be back to the office until the morning, then turned off her phone. She went home to her condo and her green oasis, adding distilled water and the appropriate amounts of liquid plant food to the tank. She drew a bath and relaxed for at least an hour before crawling into her pajamas and then into bed. What would come tomorrow needed all the strength she could muster, hoping to hell she was doing the right thing.

Arriving at work the next day, she made a beeline for Sheehan’s office. His assistant had not yet arrived. It occurred to Eloise she hadn’t seen Barbara at all in the last week. Perhaps she had up and quit, and Eloise couldn’t say she blamed her. It must be a near impossible task even tolerating a megalomaniac like Murphy. She grasped her phone and again activated the video app, but slipped it in her pocket to record audio only. Even though covert audio/video wasn’t admissible in court, she’d felt better with concrete proof of any illicit conversations. She took a deep breath and approached the closed door to the inner office with deliberate steps.

She knocked twice but didn’t wait for a response. She swung the door open before her bravado deserted her. She saw Sheehan sitting at his desk in an awkward position, his head bowed down toward his lap. “Mr. Murphy,” she said briskly. “I’ve heard rumors that you’re planning to dismiss me, but before you do, you should know–”

Murphy’s head snapped up. “Get out!” he screamed, his face rosier than one of Kylie’s outfits. Movement beneath Murphy’s desk caught Eloise’s eye, and she cocked her head sideways to get a better look.

“Oh my God, who’s under there?” she asked, taking a few steps farther into the room.

“Get out!” Murphy yelled again. “Don’t you ever fucking barge into my office, you stupid bitch!”

Eloise felt her stomach lurch at the realization his pants were undone. Someone was giving him a blowjob from under his desk. Was it Barbara? That would explain a lot. Sheehan grabbed at his pants to pull himself back together.

“Are you deaf as well as stupid?” he yelled, sweat beading on his forehead. “Get the fuck out!”

“No!” Eloise shouted, no longer giving two shits about her job. There were others all across the country. Ones that wouldn’t force her to compromise her integrity by becoming an unwilling accomplice in white-collar crime. Determined to find out who lurked under the polished, exotic wood desktop, Eloise pushed forward into the plush office. If Barbara had been forced to perform fellatio on her boss, she might need help and legal protection. She stepped around the side of the desk and peered underneath. Eloise hissed in a breath so deep and hard she reeled back and stumbled into a leather guest chair.

Kristoff Helios crouched beneath the desktop, his head in Sheehan’s lap. Eloise stumbled to her feet, her legs barely supporting her weight, covering her mouth with her hands. “Oh my God,” she moaned, her voice muffled behind the web of her fingers. Kristoff crawled out and stood up but kept his eyes on the floor as he bolted into the hallway.

Sheehan hitched up his pants and rose from his chair, stabbing a finger in Eloise’s direction. “You will forget what you saw, or you’re out on your ass without a pot to piss in, understand?” he said, his voice full of venomous intent. “And I will make sure you never work in professional sports again, even as the night janitor in the arena.”

Eloise still felt nauseous but pulled her last shred of dignity and her cell phone from her pocket and dangled it in the air between them, its recording indicator flashing. “You can shove your threats right up your ass, Sheehan Murphy. I’ve been recording everything since I came in this room. Not only that, but I have evidence that you bribed a city official yesterday, recorded on this same phone, and I plan to make the evidence public. Wanna see it?” She thumbed the phone’s screen and started the recording from the previous day. Sheehan’s face went pale.

He cleared his throat. “It seems I’ve underestimated you, Miss Robertson. Clearly, you want something… what can I offer you to delete that footage? A raise, perhaps? Stock options? And of course, a new phone? That would make it simple for both of us. Anything you want, just name it.”

Eloise exhaled a tense breath. “I’m glad you asked,” she said cannily, circling her steps toward the door. “I want you to relinquish the Chief Operating Officer position to Lou Spieker. Keep your nose in your whiskey business, and step back from any and all negotiations and direction for the club, its players, and its staff. And I want a new contract.”

Sheehan laughed. “Oh, get over yourself, you overachieving bitch. I own the Rochester Riot. I can do what I damn well want with it.”

“I’m glad you feel so cavalier about all this,” Eloise continued, “because yesterday’s video is already in the hands of investigative reporter Tom Lyden at FOX 9 and also in our Twitter feed, set to go live at noon today. If you don’t agree to turn things over to Lou, I’m pretty sure today’s conversation will also be of interest to Mr. Lyden. Your reputation will be ruined, personally, professionally, and permanently. Is that what you want?”

Sheehan fumed silently, his eyes glistening like a shark’s, his fists clenching and unclenching. “Fine,” he said between gritted teeth. “Tell Lou the job’s his. But you, princess, had better grow eyes in the back of your head. Because I’m coming for you one day, trust me.”