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As I cooled down with slow glides across the rink, the chill of the arena’s air seeped into my skin. Rubbing my arms, I cruised over to my bag in the stands to grab my hoodie.
I was just stepping off the ice, my gaze meandering across the stands, when a splotch of blood red caught my attention up near the top of the rows of seats.
My heart lurched, a colder sweat breaking over my skin. An image of Coach Balakin’s bloody body flashed behind my eyes.
I grasped the boards, drawing in a shaky breath against the rush of horror.
It was fine. Just something red attached to the door—hanging there by the handle.
I had to get a grip on myself before I started freaking out all over the place every time I saw a freakingcolorat a rink.
Still, I couldn’t help approaching the door cautiously, swaying a little on the skates I’d hastily hooked the guards onto. I didn’t remember seeing anything dangling off the door before.
When I got close enough to squint through the shadows, I stopped in my tracks, my pulse hiccupping all over again.
Okay, I definitely would have remembered seeingthat.
A gauzy red scarf was tied around the door handle—that was what had caught my attention. But one end of it wrapped around the neck of a fashion doll who hung there as if from a noose.
The doll’s dark brown hair was wrapped in a ponytail. She’d been decked out in black leggings and a muscle tee—workout clothes.
Was that… supposed to representme?
My stomach plummeted to the floor.
I yanked the scarf off the handle and examined the doll from front to back. Her perfect plastic smile glimmered, but her eyes had been Xed out.
As if to indicate she was dead.
Goosebumps quivered up and down my arms. I spun around, scanning the stands.
Who the hell had left this here? I hadn’t noticed anyone coming in or out.
They must have slipped it on so stealthily even Rafael hadn’t caught on, wherever he was lurking in the dark alcoves, because there was no way my bodyguard would have left this sick display for me to find on my own.
Niko had gone over to talk to Jasper in a low voice I couldn’t make out. Neither of them was paying any attention to me.
My hand tightened around the doll. This incident had happened because of me—I didn’t want to drag them into the mess if I didn’t have to.
Balling the plastic figure in the fabric of the scarf, I shoved open the door and marched out into the hall. The space was empty, only a single voice carrying from the reception area up front.
“Yeah, we’ll have that all set up for you on the sixteenth.”
I hustled over in the hopes that I might catch the culprit, but all I found was the arena manager, Olive, leaning over the reception desk with her back to the entryway. She was scrawling something on a scrap of paper in the jumble of objects there that she’d somehow pull into a cohesive schedule.
“Perfect,” she said, in that same saccharine sweet customer service voice. “We’ll see you then. Uh-huh. Okay, g’bye.”
She set the reception phone down, tapping her pen with her veiny hand, and startled a bit when she glanced up and noticed me.
“Oh, Lou,” she said, relaxing immediately. Her gaze skimmed over me, taking in the skates I was still wearing and my lack of equipment bag. “Can I do anything for you?”
I didn’t really want to wave the doll in front of her either. What would some small-town local make of ominous threats?
She’d either freak out or think I was crazy. Or maybe both.
“Oh, I just wondered if you’ve seen anyone come in while we were training. I thought I spotted someone by the door a little while ago, but I was so focused on the routine I couldn’t pay attention, and then they were gone.”
Olive frowned. “I’m sorry, dear. I only got in about fifteen minutes ago. I haven’t seen anyone since then, but maybe they were already gone. Did they disturb you?”
