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Instead, he gave his friend a pointed look full of skepticism and disbelief. “Come on. You’ve heard the stories over the years and what the league has covered up. You went to the same tournaments as I did as a kid. We both know the chance isn’t zero.”
“Some guy in our room is doing that and we don’t hear about it? It seems unreal. That he’d get away with it, I mean.”
Bennett appreciated Noah’s naive optimism. “You don’t think the league and ownership wouldn’t sweep that kind of thing under the rug? Remember that case from juniors a few years back? Those guys didn’t even face jail time and there was a text thread of them admitting to gang raping that girl.”
“I just . . . ” Noah rubbed his face. “Bro, I can’t even think about it. What the fuck?”
“I know. I’m pissed off and disgusted at the whole thing.”
A heavy body suddenly leaned over the seat from behind them. Jason Pence, one of the rookie wingers. “Hey, Cap. Is dinner mandatory? Because I have this girl who I—”
“It’s mandatory,” Bennett snapped. “Hookups on your own time, J.P.”
“Okay, chill. Damn. I’ll be there.” Pence disappeared, but could still be heard grumbling as he sat back down and buckled his seat belt.
“Dick,” Noah said, his voice low as he reached for his tablet. “Well, I’d say the three-game road trip’s off to a great start, Cap. Sure you don’t want my help?”
“I’ll worry about the rookies and the rest of the team. You worry about your neutral-zone gaps,” Bennett countered. “They’ve been shit lately.”
“Oh, fuck off.” Noah playfully shoved Bennett’s shoulder. “That’s bullshit and you know it. My Corsi is higher than yours.”
“In your fucking dreams,” Bennett said, then put on his headphones. He turned on his tablet and pulled up the Colorado game film he needed to study before tomorrow night’s game.
Todd was handing out key cards as the boys unloaded from the bus in front of the hotel. Bennett took his assigned key and continued to the elevator, everyone making their way to the same floor. The team learned their lesson when a stalker found their rooms a few years ago and wouldn’t leave them alone. Now the Reign rented out the entire floor and provided tighter security around the players.
After Bennett got to his room and dealt with his bag, he texted Patrick Cross.
Bennett: Need to talk to you
Bennett: Can you come to my room
Patrick responded with a thumbs up. Bennett knew he needed to handle this carefully. Diplomatically. After all, it was only a suspicion based on a coat. If he accused Patrick, and it turned out he was wrong, it could destroy the entire team. Guys would never trust him again. Bennett could lose his captaincy.
He had to assume Patrick was innocent until proven guilty—which meant no punching the truth out of anyone.
When the knock came, Bennett felt ready. He opened the door and stepped back, letting Patrick in.
“What’s up, Cap?”
“Hey, have a seat, Patty.”
That got the other man’s attention. He cast Bennett a worried glance as he sat on the bed. “Is someone getting traded? Fuck, is it me?”
“No,” Bennett said right away. “Relax. That’s definitely not it.”
Patrick sagged dramatically. “Oh, thank god. I just closed on a house two weeks ago and I was going to be fucking pissed if I had to sell it.” He leaned back and rested his elbows on the bed. “So, what’s up?”
“You go out with the boys. Like, at night, right?”
“Sure. Why?”
“A bunch of you went to The Loop recently.”
“Last week, yeah. Why?”
This was tricky. Bennett couldn’t say the real reason, but he had to hint at something that would affect the team. “The club reported some trouble with one of our players. An argument or something. They said the player was wearing a blue pea coat.” He let that sit, but Patrick gave no reaction whatsoever. Bennett added, “You own a blue pea coat, right?”
“That’s what this is about? You think I started a fight at The Loop?”
