Free Icebreaker by Deirdre Martin Page A

‘We’re really starting to come together as a unit, but we’re not there yet, and we have to step things up if we want to contend for the Cup.’ ”
    “No one asked about the lawsuit?”
    Adam looked annoyed. “None of the local reporters bring it up anymore, since all I say is, ‘Sorry, I can’t talk about it.’ Sometimes a visiting reporter brings it up, but I just say the same thing. Now, are you done quizzing me ?”
    Sinead was taken aback by his antipathy. “I wasn’t quizzing you. I was just making conversation.” She paused, waiting for a response. There was none, just a poker-faced stare. Obviously he’d rethought their banter of a few nights back and regretted it.
    “I should get going,” she said politely. She was in no mood to play “Get the sullen hockey player to talk.”
    “I’ll be in touch soon,” she told him.
    Adam’s expression softened for a moment. “Thanks for coming to the game.”
    Thanks for throwing me a bone, Sinead thought. “No problem. I know it was important to you that I see how the game is played.”
    Adam looked uncomfortable. “Yeah, well, thanks again.”
    Sinead watched him disappear back into the chattering crowd, curious to see if he stopped to talk with anyone else. He didn’t. He nodded a couple of times in acknowledgment of some people, and then he was gone. Sinead took a long slug from her water bottle. She was relieved the conversation was over, but was disappointed as well as surprised that it hadn’t gone the way she thought it would. So much for “greasing the wheels” with “casual conversation.”
    She found Quinn, told him she was leaving, and made her way outside Met Gar to hail a cab. She wondered where Adam had gone to and then chastised herself for it. He’s your client, Sinead. What he’s doing right now is immaterial and irrelevant to the case.
    She closed her eyes and let the cab take her home.

7

    Sinead wasn’t sure what to expect of Claresholm, population 3,200. Adam’s hometown was on the fringe of the Rocky Mountains. She knew it had six restaurants and one traffic light. And she knew Adam wasn’t happy she was here.
    She’d rented a car at the airport fifty miles away. Since she lived in the city and rarely got to be behind the wheel, she loved driving through Alberta’s rolling, open ranch country. It was breathtaking. She’d booked herself into the Bluebird Motel, dubbed “Alberta’s Best Kept Secret.” It had more of a country inn feel to it than a motel; her room was cozy and antique-filled, with a large brass bed covered with a handmade patchwork quilt.
    It was late afternoon. Sinead wasn’t seeing Adam’s brother, Rick, until tomorrow morning. She’d told Oliver about her conversation with Adam after the hockey game, and how antagonistic he’d been toward her about her going up to Claresholm. “Skeletons, dude, skeletons,” was Oliver’s pronouncement.
    Kicking off her shoes, Sinead lay down on the bed and closed her eyes. She didn’t know if she had the energy to go out and eat dinner, especially since she always felt so conspicuous dining alone. People in New York did it all the time: sat at a table reading a book or the newspaper. Sinead had never quite gotten the hang of it. Anytime she had to dine solo, she finished her meal as quickly as possible and left. She thought about Adam, checking out the Wild Hart on his own. Her mind kept circling back to his displeasure at her being here. She also found herself thinking about his broken engagement. Maybe the woman in question couldn’t take how little he talked or expressed emotion. Actually, that wasn’t fair to say. She didn’t know him well enough to know if he was like that in private. “We wanted different things.” God, how many times had she used that all-purpose term when people asked about her divorce? Still, she couldn’t help but wonder about what kind of woman Adam would have been with.
    Eager for distraction, Sinead grabbed her laptop from