The Penalty Box (Vancouver Wolves Hockey #3)(5)

“Go,” gritted out Ashford. “Don’t make more of a scene.”

I handed the award to Ashford, and the crowd gasped as I followed the detectives through the crowd. Behind me, Ashford was doing damage control into the mic.

“No reason to be alarmed. One of our players, Mica Petrov, witnessed something, and they require his help. Have a good night, Mica. Thanks for helping our city’s finest.”

Krista was standing, her phone glued to her ear, as she watched me walk by.





*



They put me in a holding cell and left me for the entire night. Not ideal, but I sat on the cement bench, crossed my arms and slept. I frequently traveled as a player and had gotten good at falling asleep no matter the circumstances.

A buzzer sounded, waking me up. I watched through slitted eyes as the metal cage door slid open with a clank.

“Wake up, sunshine,” a uniformed officer said from the doorway.

I stood up. “Where are you taking me?”

He ignored me as he led me down two long cement hallways before ushering me into a windowless room that sported a table and four metal chairs.

“Have a seat.”

“What, no breakfast service?”

He glowered at me. “Smart-ass.”

It didn’t take long before Detective Wallace walked in with a thick file. He slapped it down on the table and sat down across from me.

“How are you doing?”

I answered him with a dark look.

“Do you know why you’re here, Mica?”

I played dumb. “You’re the fashion police, and you don’t like my tux.”

“What is your association with Andrusha Sokolov?”

“He’s a friend.”

“What kind of friend?”

I studied the man before me. I understood he was just doing his job, but if he thought I would flip on my friend, he was delusional. “We grew up together.”

He made a note in his file. “Where did you grow up?”

“Russia.”

He made a noise. “And what was the nature of your business with him last night?”

I shrugged. “He invited me to his warehouse to play some cards and drink some real Russian vodka.”

“Are you aware that Mr. Sokolov is the leader of one of Vancouver’s more notorious gangs?”

I feigned shock. “No way. Not Andrusha. He runs an import business.”

“Do you know what he imports?”

“He ships mineral fuels to China.” I knew this as fact. Andrusha fronted his gang business with a legitimate shipping business.

“Your friend runs with a group of unsavory characters responsible for trafficking a large amount of illegal substances through the ports. He only uses his mineral oil shipping business as a front.”

“I know nothing about that.”

The detective frowned. “You’re telling me you had no idea about his criminal activity?”

I shrugged again. “I don’t see Andrusha that often. We get together maybe once or twice a year.”

He checked his notes again. “You play for the Vancouver Wolves. Defenseman, right?”

“That’s right.”

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “I’d think someone of your position would be more careful about the friends you keep company with.”

I shrugged. “Like I said, Andrusha is an old friend. From my past. We barely hang out.”

“We’d like your help.”

I worked to keep my expression impassive. “With what?”

“We’d like to set up eyes and ears on your friend.”

I didn’t move a muscle.

“That guy is one bad dude. And if you’re not with us, we will believe you’re against us.”

“Like you said, someone in my position should be more careful about the company I keep.”

“We’d like to offer you a deal.”

I scoffed. “I have no interest in getting involved with your job or his. As far as I know, he runs a legitimate business.”

“Someone in my position can make your life difficult.”

“Are you threatening me?”

He lifted his hands. “Trying to be real with you, dude.”

I leaned forward. “Are you arresting me?”

He shook his head. “Not yet.”

I stood up. “Then this interview is over.”

“I didn’t say you could leave.”

“Then I’d like to speak to my lawyer.”

His eyes narrowed on my face before he nodded. I moved towards the door and someone on the other side opened it for me.

“You should find somewhere to go for a while other than your home,” he added.

I glanced over my shoulder. “Why?”

He stood up and handed me a folded piece of paper. “Because we’re in the process of searching your home.”

I took the paper from his hand. “Search away. I’ve got nothing to hide.”

“We’ll see about that, won’t we?”

I tucked the paper into my pocket on my chest. “Have a good day, officer.”

“Detective.”

I turned to go, but his voice followed me. “We’re watching you, Mica Petrov.”