It came back to her through Cole. Because everything came back through Cole eventually – the quiet goalie who noticed everything and said nothing until saying something became necessary.
Rhys was already in the apartment when I arrived Tuesday evening. Standing in the kitchen. Not sitting – standing. The posture of a man who'd been pacing and had stopped when he heard my key in the lock. His face was the dangerous kind of calm. The kind that looked like stillness from across the room and felt like a loaded weapon up close.
"You had an honest talk with Caleb."
Not a question. A statement. Delivered flat, each word placed carefully, the way you place stones on a scale when you're measuring something you're afraid to know the weight of.
"What?"
"Cole heard it from two different guys at p
