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.”
I drove by my place and winced as I took in the five police vans and swarms of cops in white coveralls standing on my front driveway. Those guys didn’t fuck around.
I drove to Dewey’s and, unsure what to do next, I called Ryan.
“Ryan here.”
“Ryan, it’s Mica.”
“What’s up, man?”
“Could we talk?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“No, in person.”
“When?”
“Right now.”
His voice changed. “You okay?”
“I fucked up.” I looked around the bar.
“How bad?”
“Real bad.”
Concern clouded his voice. “Where are you?”
“At Dewey’s Pub.”
“I’m on my way.”
“Thanks.”
I ordered a water and debated my options. This is exactly what Andrusha had been trying to prevent. He knew that if anyone got wind that I associated with him, it could damage my career. Standing with Mark Ashford before being led away by three detectives was more than damaging. I didn’t even want to think about how Ashford would react.
I wondered what happened to Andrusha, but I knew better than to call him. When he had a chance, he’d contact me.
My phone rang.
“Krista.”
“Where the fuck are you?” Her shrill voice punctured my eardrum.
“Why?”
“I’m at the central police station with Mark Ashford’s lawyers, and they said you left.”
“They let me walk.”
“Where are you?”
“Meeting Ryan at Dewey’s.”
“Why are you drinking at a bar? Mica, this is serious. We have to get in front of this.”
“The police had a search warrant for my home. They won’t let me in.”
“Fucking hell.” Moments ticked by while Krista thought her way through this. “I’m putting the lawyers on this. Meet me at your place.”
She hung up on me before I could respond.
I dialed Ryan’s phone.
“Ryan here.”
“Buddy, I’m sorry to do this to you, but I will need to catch up with you later.”
He sounded concerned. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I need to meet up with Krista.”
One reason I loved Ryan was he took everything at face value. “That’s cool. Call me if you need me.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
I felt like hell. I was still wearing my tuxedo, and all I wanted to do was have a shower and crawl into bed.
When I pulled up to my place, there was only one van left. I parked on the street and strolled up the driveway.
“Can I get in?” I spoke to a guy wearing a white paper jumpsuit.
“We’re just finishing up now.” He pulled his white hoodie off his head. “Give us a few.”
I watched as two more guys carried out brown paper bags of evidence and loaded them into the back of the van.
“You can enter your premises now,” the man said, as he marked something off on a clipboard.
I stepped inside the front door.
“Holy shit,” I breathed as I looked around the place. It looked like a tornado had hit. They had pulled every