Read Online Rebel Glory by Sigmund Brouwer - Free Book Online Page B

“But that won’t help them much if we don’t make the playoffs.”
    Cheryl grinned. “And with you off the team, the Rebels probably won’t make the playoffs.”
    “I’m not trying to say that—”
    “Why not?” she said. “I asked my dad about you. He said you were brought to the team just to help them win. He said you are one of the best defensemen in the league. He said since you joined the team it has won eighty percent of its home games and sixty-five percent of its away games. He said—”
    “Come on,” I said. My face was growing hot. I was happy the waitress stopped by at that moment with our milkshakes. Slurping on the straw gave me something to do besides squirm and stare at my fingernails.
    Cheryl drank some of her milkshake, then spoke. “So maybe the question should be who will gain if the team doesn’t make the playoffs?”
    “No one,” I said. “The guys on the team won’t. Coach Blair won’t—he might lose his job. Shoot, the Rebels might even get sold and moved to another town. The owners want us to make the playoffs so they can have good ticket sales.”
    “Right.” Cheryl was grinning, as if I’d proved her point. But I didn’t know what point it was.
    “Right?”
    “Do you know what my dad does?” she asked.
    I shook my head.
    “He’s an insurance investigator, which means he checks out insurance claims. A lot of times people try different scams to rip offinsurance companies. His job is to look for the scams. He’s almost like a detective.”
    “A good person to go to with questions,” I said.
    She agreed. “I asked Dad who would gain if the Rebels didn’t make the playoffs, and he said everything you did.”
    “And?”
    “And he also went one step farther. The less money the Rebels make as a team, the less expensive they would be to buy.”
    I set my milkshake down so suddenly it clanked on the table. “That’s who would gain! The person buying the team!”
    “Yes.” She was still grinning. “I asked my dad these questions at lunch today. He said he would help out. And he did.”
    She pulled a file from her backpack and shoved it across the table at me. “Dad has a lot of business connections here in Red Deer. It didn’t take him long to find out who was trying to buy the team.”
    I opened the folder. It had articles from various magazines. The first article included a picture of a bald man. He was dressed ina pinstriped suit and sat behind a huge desk, smoking a cigar and smiling into the camera. One of his front teeth was shiny gold.
    “Jonathan Sullivan,” I read from the headline. “Real estate millionaire.” I read farther into the article. “Lives in Fort McMurray, Alberta.”
    “Yes,” Cheryl said. “It’s up north. Medium-sized city. He’s a big hockey booster and has been trying to get a Western Hockey League team up there for years.”
    I set the article down.
    “Go on,” she said. “There’s more.”
    In the other articles I found out that Jonathan Sullivan had been taken to court on five different occasions—mainly for fraud charges. But nothing had ever been proven against him.
    “Interesting,” I said.
    “More than interesting. We now have someone who could gain from having you off the team. We also have someone who appears to be the type to play dirty.”
    “One problem,” I said without thinking. “He can’t get into our dressing room.”
    She rolled her eyeballs. “Craig, don’t you think he can pay someone?”
    So much for being a computer-like hockey player.
    “I knew that,” I said. “Really.”
    “Sure.” She smiled at me. I could get used to those smiles. “Now, give me your list of people who can get into the dressing room.”
    I passed it across the table.
    She hummed to herself as she studied it. “We’ll need photographs of each of them.”
    “Why?”
    “You’ll see,” she said. “Trust me on this.”
    As if I had a choice.
    “Well,” I said, “some of them have their photographs in the