don’t want me to call the cops?”
I shook my head. The last thing I needed was nosy investigators eyeballing my face and asking me questions I had no clue how to answer. Instead, I asked Trevor, “When did she show up?”
“She was here when I arrived. It looked as though she camped out in the doorway with a bottle in a bag. I tried to sneak past her but she sort of barreled through the door and demanded to speak with you. She got belligerent when I said you wouldn’t be in today. That’s when I called you.”
That didn’t sound promising. “Where is she now?”
He gestured back the way he’d come. “Passed out on the couch in the consulting room.”
My face hurt too much to offer him a reassuring smile so I said, “Okay, I’ll take it from here. You just do…your thing.”
I headed for the stairs, trying to look as self-confident as I ought to be in my place of business. I wasn’t. Alina scared the crap out of me when she was sober. No way did I want to deal with her drunk and disorderly. But what other choice did I have?
The consulting room looked like a cross between a therapist’s office and a conference room. Dove gray walls, a white tile floor, big leafy green plants. Framed black and white photos of gymnasts were compiled along the back wall. A glass-topped desk that held no books papers or even a computer. There were two rolling chairs on either side. Two couches that looked too new to be truly comfortable.
Passed out on one was a woman I didn’t recognize.
My mouth fell open. No way. There was no way in hell that this doughy figure with the beet-red face and dirty sweatpants could be Alina. Sure, the hair was the same shade of blond with the rough cut that had been twenty years out of date when she’d coached me, but there could be plenty of people with that retro style. Or women who let their toddlers do their hair with safety scissors. There were broken capillaries all over her nose and her skin looked windburned.
But I’d heard her voice on the phone. Yes, she’d been drunk and slurring, but it had been her sharp tones, her clipped accent. I stared at the snoring figure for a full minute trying to reconcile the woman who had inspired terror and awe with this not-so-hot mess.
My gaze slid to the door. Maybe I ought to just leave before she woke up. But that wouldn’t be fair to poor Trevor. Besides, I owed it to Alina to hear her out.
So I sat down at the conference table to wait.
The beeping startled me awake. I blinked my eyes open and took stock of my surroundings. My face was pressed against a cool hard surface and I’d been drooling in my sleep. Snazzy.
I sat up, wincing at the crick in my neck, and reached a hand back to rub the aching muscle. Another beep and I realized the sound came from my jacket pocket. Probably an alert on my cell phone.
I fumbled for the device just as a loud groan came from the couch. Alina’s lids snapped open and she stared at me through bloodshot blue eyes.
My mouth went dry and every muscle in my body seemed to seize up. There was something in her gaze that I’d never seen before. A level of hatred that radiated out from the core of her being.
“You.” Her dismount from the couch was far from graceful. She basically rolled off of it and then staggered to her feet. It was hard to tell if she was still drunk or hungover but either way, the energy coming off of her was pure menace.
“Hi, Alina. How are you? You look…good.” I shoved the chair back from the glass and iron table. Instinct told me to keep the piece of furniture between the two of us.
She spat on the floor. Then her lips curled up in a grimace as she raged, “It’s all your fault!”
I shook my head from side to side, denying whatever it was she was trying to blame me for. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“The drugs,” she spat.
That stopped me short. “Drugs? What drugs?”
“Ephedrine. The compound you took to secure your place on the Olympic team.”
She might as well have struck me. “I never—”
“You told the media that I gave it to you unknowingly when we are both knowing the truth.” She made a