Page 98 of Golden Goal

No way.

“Do you really think they’d trade him? He’s played his entire career with the Storm. This is his second season as their starting goalie. He had a rough start to the year, but he appears to have turned it around recently,” the second host says.

“Anything is possible. Like you said, he had a rocky start to the season.” I clench my fist at their words. “First, the undisclosed lower body injury. Then he took a leave of absence from the team. We still don’t know why. There’s been rumors about what was going on, but nothing’s been confirmed.”

“The Storm are pretty far out of the race for a playoff spot, so it makes sense that they’re in the market to sell. His no-trade clause kicks in in July, so if they’re going to trade him, now is when they should do it.”

I grab the remote and hit the Power button, having seen enough.

Is he being traded? What’ll happen to us if they trade him?

He just bought a house. It would devastate him. I’d be devastated.

The team wouldn’t do that to him, would they?

But it is a business.

They might if they don’t think he’s the goalie they need.

I grab my phone to call him and see if he knows what’s going on. My call goes straight to voicemail, and I leave him a quick message. Sighing, I go to set my phone down and then decide to try Sutton. She’s always got a pulse on anything the media is saying about the team. Maybe she knows what’s happening. It rings a few times and goes to voicemail, too.

Now what?

I try Holt again, knowing I won’t be able to sleep tonight if I don’t talk to him, or at least someone, and find out what’s going on. Someone has to know, right?

Once again, it goes to voicemail. I know from his text this morning that they were bringing over the last load of stuff to the new house today. He also told me to come over whenever, so I guess whenever is now. I text him asking him to call me before getting up to get ready.

It takes me a record ten minutes to shower and put on clean clothes. Once dressed, I check my phone to make sure I didn’t miss any calls or texts while I was getting ready, but there aren’t any. I pull on a pair of sneakers, grab my car keys and my purse, and head for the elevator.

It must be my lucky night because the door opens as soon as I hit the button. As I’m making my way across the lobby, the doorman calls after me.

“Dr. Jansen.”

I plaster on a smile and turn to face him. “Hi.”

“Sorry to bother you, but this got delivered for you a few minutes ago. I was about to call you.” He holds up a plain manila envelope.

“Thank you.” I take it from him, noticing it’s handwritten with no return address.

“A courier delivered it. One of the local companies.”

I mutter my thanks again before turning and walking out of the building.

Once I’m in my car, with the doors locked, I open the envelope. I reach in and pull out a stack of over a dozen pictures, and a folded piece of white paper.

What in the world?

I flip through the pictures, my jaw dropping more and more with every photo. There are pictures of Holt and Hazel, all three of us when we went to the James Bond museum, some of just me and Holt, when we were house hunting or leaving the arena, and a few of Hadley and Hazel. There are even some of just me, getting out of my car.

My skin crawls at the memory of feeling as though I was being watched on multiple occasions. I guess I wasn’t being paranoid.

My mind flashes to the silver car I swear I’ve seen multiple times over the past few months. I know it’s a common enough color for a car, but something in the back of my mind tells me it’s not a coincidence.

That whoever was in that car is the person responsible for these photographs, or at the very least, they were paid to take them.

I stare at the folded piece of paper in my lap. It’s a note. It’s got to be. Do I really want to read it? I don’t, but I know I have to. So I do.

I see you trying to move in on what’s mine. Don’t think I didn’t see photos of you holding my daughter plastered all over the team’s social media. You’re convenient because you live next door. No other reason. He’ll realize what he’s missing soon enough. That we make a great family. I think it’s time you step aside before someone gets hurt.