.
Чтение книги онлайн.

Читать онлайн книгу - страница 4

Название:

Автор:

Издательство:

Жанр:

Серия:

isbn:

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ and Wally were at cross-purposes in respect to this class.

      Wally seemed to be enjoying a little joke. “No, I don’t think we’ll have any other members like him.”

      “If any others should come up, please let me know and make sure I actually respond. Otherwise...” Bridget left the threat hanging, partly because she wasn’t sure just what she’d do, and partly so that Wally could imagine the worst.

      Bridget headed out to change for her afternoon coaching. There was something funny about this, but she had places to be, and couldn’t take the time to shake Wally down any further.

      * * *

      SOMETHING WASN’T QUITE RIGHT. Mike was sure of it. He’d done his second morning lane swim, and the instructor who’d raced him the first day was there with her class. She hadn’t raced him this morning. Instead, she had ignored him. He was getting the feeling that she wasn’t happy with him being there.

      He’d been getting that feeling a lot in Toronto.

      Hockey fans weren’t happy with him, and he couldn’t blame them. He was one of the best-paid goalies in the league, and when he arrived last spring he was supposed to make the team better. Instead, he’d played badly; as badly as he’d ever played as a professional.

      Although Mike hadn’t been thrilled at the trade to Toronto, he had pride, and he was not happy with his performance. He hoped that he could bring the fans around by playing up to his level this year, but training camp had just begun. His time to prove himself hadn’t arrived, so he was still living with last year’s reputation.

      The hockey team wasn’t happy with him, either. After a “prank” had damaged his watch while he was swimming laps at the team facility, he’d come up with this alternative. Swim here first, then practice with the team.

      The athletic club management committee had been welcoming, and the club manager almost too welcoming, but now that he was here, he realized something was going on. So after he’d showered and dressed, he stopped by the office of the club manager, “Call me Walter,” to check.

      Mike knocked on the door frame.

      He thought he saw a wary look on the manager that was replaced by a worried one once Walter recognized him.

      “Come in, come in!”

      Mike stayed in the doorway. The office wasn’t that big, and he didn’t plan to be there long. “Are you sure there’s no problem with my using the pool for laps in the morning?” he asked.

      Walter paused for just a moment. “Of course not! We’re so pleased to have you here. And, of course, normally there’s nothing going on in the pool at that time.”

      “There seems to be a class.”

      “Oh, that’s just Bridget’s special project.” With a sudden suspicious glance, Walter asked, “Has she said something to you? Has she done anything?”

      Mike wondered if Walter was afraid of the redhead, Bridget.

      “No. Is she likely to?” he asked in amusement. Did Walter think she could hurt him somehow?

      The other man sighed. “She has a temper, and she’s a little obsessive over that class.”

      So it was this class, not all of her classes, Mike thought.

      “What’s so special about that class?” he asked aloud.

      Walter shook his head sadly. “Those kids aren’t members, and their parents certainly aren’t. They’re from the local school. As you can tell, the neighborhood around the club went downhill sometime after the club was established, and, well, the locals aren’t the kinds of people we’d accept as members. Bridget thought this class bringing in neighborhood kids would help with community relations. Not that we have problems, I assure you. Just a little graffiti, and honestly, these days, who doesn’t?” Walter smiled ingratiatingly. “If you have any problems with Bridget, any at all, just let me know.”

      Mike had the strong impression that Walter was hoping he’d find some.

      “Bridget is a swimming instructor?” he asked. She was obviously good. Maybe he could hire her for a couple of lessons. It was frustrating to have someone beat him that easily. He hated losing.

      “No, not exactly. She’s the coach for our swim team.” Walter sighed, obviously not happy to have to sing her praises. “She was a competitive swimmer, and yes, there has been improvement with the team so far,”

      Walter didn’t seem to hope or want that to continue, but he cleared his throat, adding, “She’s not really one of us. She came up with this crazy idea about building community relations by teaching local kids to swim and got some of the members all excited about it, but I’m just waiting for those kids to cause a problem. They don’t know how to behave in a place like this, and they’re not likely to become members in the future. They’re going to start thinking they’re entitled to use our resources, and it’s going to cause trouble down the line.”

      Mike kept his expression neutral. “Not really one of us” meant not rich. Mike had grown up close to the poverty line, so he didn’t feel quite like “one of us,” even though he now had enough money to make him welcome almost anywhere. When he was young, he would have been one of “those kids.”

      He felt warmer about this Bridget. If she’d swum competitively, well, that would explain how she was able to beat him. And he liked her motive for starting this class, whether or not it would work out.

      He also understood a little better why she might not appreciate his swimming during her class time. The pool was plenty big, so they could coexist, but Walter was obviously opposed to the idea of the class and would be pleased to squeeze it out. This must look like a first step.

      “Thank you, Walter. I just wanted to understand. Since I’m new here, I don’t know the protocol. Didn’t want to ruffle any feathers.”

      Walter assured him that no feathers worth worrying about were being ruffled.

      He smiled and tried not to dwell on the fact that Walter had a very punchable face.

      Mike thought he’d like to make a gesture to indicate that he would support the class, and decided to think that over.

      He had no idea that the gesture would result in his being kidnapped.

      * * *

      BRIDGET FOUND THE gesture in an envelope addressed to her a couple of days later. In the envelope were ten tickets to a preseason Blaze game. There was a printed note, apologizing for the intrusion into her class space, and indicating that these tickets were in appreciation. There was a scrawl at the bottom that was presumably a signature, but it was illegible.

      Bridget understood it was from the lap swimmer, and even for a preseason game, these hockey tickets were hard to come by. She cynically thought that money could solve a lot of problems. The lap swimmer must have a lot of cash. He was probably some business type, of which the club had many.

      She’d never been to the new arena built for the expansion team ten years ago, and had never seen a professional game live in her life, even though her whole family had been hockey fans from birth.

      Canadians СКАЧАТЬ