Never Trust part 2

Jake's phone was buzzing madly as he drove behind Leslie. It was Des and Jake was ignoring him. It buzzed again but this time it was Mal.

"What?" Jake said testily into the phone.

"We have a client. Don't you work here anymore?," Mal said sarcastically.

"Yes, b'y," Jake replied, "but I have life, remember? You know, private time, friends outside of work, stuff like that?"

"No you don',t," Mal replied, "you have Leslie Bennett. When are you going to leave that poor girl alone? Now get over here, we need you on this case."

"Yes b'y," replied Jake, "you take care of it, I'll catch up with you later."

After having breakfast with Leslie and a bit of snogging in the car, much to Jake's happiness, he got another call from Des to meet him and Mal at the Gould's hockey arena.

When he got to the arena, the Gould's Grinders were practicing and Des and Mal were sitting with the head coach in the stands watching.

"Whaddya at?" Jake asked.

"Jake, this is Jerry Quinn, coach of the Grinders. He wants to hire us to find out about some rumours of game fixing on the team," explained Mal.

"I don't mean anything by it," said Jake, "but there can't be much money to be made in off-book betting on double A hockey."

"More than you might think," replied Quinn. "We've recently lost a few games that we shouldn't on strange plays that shouldn't have happened. And lately a couple of league referees have been living a bit better than they used to, if you understand what I mean."

"Okay, how do you want to play it?" asked Jake.

Mal replied, "we were thinking of putting you on the team under cover. We'll say you're a late season addition from the New Brunswick league. Des will be under cover as a goal ref here at Goulds Arena. That will get him into the referees meetings and dressing rooms without risking putting him on the ice."

"I play hockey like an actor", said Jake.

"So do a lot of guys in this league," replied Quinn. "The NHL it ain't."

The next morning Jake showed up at the rink with his hockey equipment and a hangover. "Perhaps that bottle of whiskey was not the right thing to do last night," he wondered to himself.

Quinn walked him to his place in the dressing room and showed him the practice uniforms and the regular uniforms. Jake would be wearing number 14.

"We practice four hours every weekday with two weeknight games and major travel games on the weekend. Most of the guys have other jobs they do in the afternoons. I assume you do, too," Quinn asked him.

"Yeah," replied Jake, "I will probably try and pick up some construction or cab driver work now I'm here in St. John's."

One of the other players getting dressed asked Jake where he was from.

"Moncton most recently", Jake said, "but I've been on the road a lot in the last few years. I'm trying to get in a few more years pro before I get sent out to pasture."

Quinn announced to the players in the room, "Doyle is a late season addition to bolster our defence and see if we can get our sorry asses into the playoffs this year." He turned to Doyle and said, "we can get 'em in their net, but we ain't so good at keepin' em out of ours, right b'y's?"

A large man with a few missing teeth said to Jake, "I knows a few o' the b'ys in Moncton. Who'd you play with?"

Jake replied, "um, uh, I wasn't there long, you know. I didn't get to know them all that well."

"But sure you should be able to name a few, eh, b'y?" the large man said a bit menacingly.

Quinn jumped in, "get your ass on the ice, Ziegler, I don't pay you to talk. Which is a good thing because you're too stupid."

Ziegler growled at bit at Quinn as he walked out the door, followed by a bunch of others who gave Jake quizzical looks on the way by.

Jake said to himself as he adjusted his pads, "I'm starting to regret this already."

The first hour was non-stop speed and endurance drills. Jake came close to puking a few times, but eventually adjusted to the pace and even started to like it a bit. That was followed by an hour of skills drills; passing, shooting, checking, technical skating. Then after short break they played a 90 minute scrimmage. Jake wasn't too far out of his depth with this crew as long as he played his position and didn't get too cute. Ziegler took a couple of hard runs at him, which was a bit much since they were on the same team, but Jake kept his head and avoided any serious injury.

Later in the shower, he wondered how he would manage the next day in both the practice and the game. He hadn't been this sore since the last time he was hit by a car.

A couple of the players invited him over to the local pub for a pint and some wings. He decided it would be good for the case so he went.

"You're none too bad," Robby, one of the forwards, said to Jake after they had ordered their food. "Maybe a bit wussy on the back checks, but I can see how you might not want to make any enemies on the first day."

"I think I already did," Jake replied, licking the wing sauce off his fingers. "Ziegler doesn't like me much."

"Ziggy's like that to everyone new. He's an old player looking for one last season and anybody new is a bit of a threat." That was Fowler, the centre for the first line. Jake had noticed him and he was really good.

"You're some good player," Jake said to Fowler. "How come you're a Grinder and not an Ice Cap?"

There was general laughter and giggling at the table. One of the players Jake didn't know yet said, "Fowler 'fouled' the coaches wife, if you knows what I mean. He'll be playing minor hockey until there's a new coach in town, hopefully with an ugly wife."

"Not my smartest decision," said Fowler. "But the heart wants what it wants."

Jake laughed, "I hear ya."

The players had a jovial lunch and then most of them headed off to other jobs. Jake went back to the office to see how Des had gotten on with the referees.