Thin Ice Read Free Page B

dreams were finally coming true.” She smiled as a tear ran down her face and splashed onto the coffee table. “It was such a whirlwind summer for him, what with the draft, and the contract, then finding a place to live here in Ottawa. He was so excited about coming to camp and playing for the Raftsmen. I just can’t believe this is happening. It’s so cruel.”
    â€œAnd you, Mr. Saunders?”
    â€œI saw him last week. Wednesday, I think. I’ve been in town the past few days, visiting with my sister.”
    â€œHow did he seem on Wednesday?”
    Saunders shrugged. “Top of the world. We had a couple of steaks and shot the breeze. He was telling me about training camp, and the way the team was shaping up. Excited, you know?”
    â€œHow long have you known Curtis, Mr. Saunders?”
    â€œEllen and I have been seein’ each other for, what’s it, five years now?”
    Ritchie nodded, as Marshall returned his focus to Ellen Ritchie.
    â€œDid Curtis buy a house here in Ottawa?”
    She plucked a tissue from the box and blew her nose. “No. He wanted to build, and he wanted to take his time picking out the perfect location. He was renting a condo over by the big hotel.”
    â€œThe Château Laurier?”
    Ritchie nodded, dabbing at her eyes. The adjacent condo building was the most exclusive in town, with the smallest units going for a million or more. “One of the reasons he liked it so much was running along the canal. He just loved it.”
    â€œHe ran a lot, I guess?”
    â€œOh yes, and more than ever this summer. He wanted to be in top shape for camp. I think he was running every day.”
    â€œDo you know if he always ran the same route?”
    â€œI don’t really know, but he always liked to go early, at first light, usually.”
    â€œDid he run alone?” Smith asked.
    â€œHe always did back in Peterborough, but I don’t know about here.”
    Marshall asked some routine questions about Curtis Ritchie’s habits and his whereabouts in the past few weeks, before looking to Smith.
    â€œDid your son have a girlfriend?” Smith asked, as Ritchie and Saunders turned to him.
    â€œNot that I know of.” Ellen Ritchie shook her head. “I mean, there were girls — I’m sure there were lots of ’em — but nothing steady. Curtis always said he didn’t want to get tied down. He didn’t want to risk anything getting in the way of his goal.”
    â€œI’m sure he was pretty popular,” Smith prompted. He had read about a woman in Peterborough who had claimed Ritchie had fathered her child, but as far as he knew it had never gone anywhere. He wondered whether Ritchie’s prospects for a multi-million contract in the near future had spawned more, similar claims. “I mean, a good-looking kid like that, hockey star and the future he had …” He trailed off and sensed the unspoken dialogue going on between Ritchie and Saunders. It was Saunders who broke the silence.
    â€œThere was no shortage of gold diggers trying to get their hooks into him, if that’s what you mean,” he sneered.
    â€œWasn’t there a woman in Peterbor —” Smith began, before Ritchie interrupted.
    â€œThat little slut tried her best, but everyone knew Curtis had nothin’ to do with her.”
    â€œWho was this, and what did she try, Mrs. Ritchie?”
    â€œNancy Ridgeway, a waitress at a greasy spoon in Peterborough. She tried to get Curtis to pay her to shut her up, but he refused.” She shook her head. “He knew what she was up to, and he wasn’t afraid to stand up to her. That was back in the spring. She hired a lawyer and threatened to sue, but it never went anywhere. Then she tried to get the cops involved — you can check it out for yourselves — but nothin’ ever came of that, either. Everyone knew exactly what she was.”
    Smith nodded,