Page 38 of Thin Ice

Frey: Good. Get some sleep.

I put the phone away and watched the city's lights go by as I drove. When we stepped inside the service elevator, I realized I hadn't told Frey which player was my guy.

Then I remembered—half the city knew whose shoulder I stood beside. I'd been in at least a dozen public photographs. It was nothing.

***

On the charter flight to Boston for Game Three, everyone worked. More than half the players ran tape on tablets. Nobody spoke. Nolan had his earbuds in, and every few seconds he swayed with a movement onscreen.

Frey had called as the team started to board. I stepped to the side and took it on the tarmac. The players filed past me up into the plane.

"You're traveling," he said. "I'll be quick. I did something last night I probably shouldn't have, and it's been sitting on me since, so I'm just going to say it."

"Okay."

"Our conversation kept bothering me. I gave you the company line about the current system. That didn't feel like the whole story." A breath. "So I went into the contracts index. It's not sealed stuff. I don't have access to that."

"And?"

"The Carolina project is right there, 2012 through 2014. It's called 'Integrated player-recovery protocol, embedded delivery model.'" His voice dropped. "Elias, I've worked here six years, and I'd never seen any of that in writing. It's the history they tell you not to worry about."

I kept my voice level. "Why are you telling me?"

"Honestly? Because I don't have anyone else to tell. Everyone I work with looks away and avoids the questions. You're the one person I've talked to in years who asks questions for a living without a dog in the fight." He laughed, a short sound. "And when I looked, it felt like crossing a line. Telling you is the only way I can say it's not snooping. I'm just answering questions. Does that make any sense?"

It did. Frey made a lot of sense.

"For what it's worth, I'm going to be in your neck of the woods, sort of. Boston, tomorrow through the weekend. Half of our East Coast clients have Cup tickets. If you have a morning, I'll buy breakfast. I want to hear what you make of all this because I've stopped trusting what I make of it."

"I'll text you," I said.

"Do that. Safe flight."

He was almost off the line when he spoke again, "How's your guy holding up, by the way? That was a lot of contact for a veteran body. The travel's tough. Is he sleeping?"

"He manages it well," I said.

Somewhere over Ohio, Nolan got up. He dropped into the empty seat beside me and held out one earbud.

"Watch this," he said, and ran a clip. It was Boston's third pair on a line change, leaving a two-second opening before closing it on the far side. "There. That's the whole series if we're fast enough to use it."

I ran the clip three times with his earbud in my ear and his shoulder against mine. He was showing me the plan for the game in motion.

Michael called as soon as we touched down on the tarmac in Boston.

"Two things. One, your contract's real. I verified it independently through state corporate filings, cross-referenced with the franchise's vendor disclosures from the collective bargaining side. Carolina engaged Tarn, 2012 to 2014, embedded model, exactly like your man said." A beat of typing. "That's the best-sourced thread you've uncovered."

"The second thing?"

"Two is the org charts are scrubbed, but payroll leaves shadows. I checked benefits filings, state unemployment records, and a workers' comp claim from 2013 that never went anywhere." The typing stopped. "I've got half a name and half a story. Tierney. T-I-E-R-N-E-Y. Give me a day."

***

The hotel was an old brick one a few blocks off the harbor. At midnight, I walked up and down between the beds.

The Steamers had the entire eighth floor; Doyle posted a man at the elevator lobby with a chair and a thermos. I nodded at him as I walked down the hallway.

There was something about the corridor I didn't like. It was narrow, and the carpet deadened nearly all sound. I checked the far stairwell, found it clean, and started back.