He’d never seen Dan like this, and he knew right then that there was more to the relationship between the Stars’ owner and head coach than he had suspected. “Molly hasn’t seen her since before the game. She’s pretty upset. Tully’s wife is with her now.”

“If anything’s happened to Phoebe—”

“Dan?” One of the assistant coaches had appeared at the mouth of the tunnel.

Dan rounded on him, the cords of his neck standing out like ropes. “Leave me the fuck alone!”

Ron could feel Dan’s desperation, and he grabbed the head coach’s other arm with an urgent grip. “You’ve got to get back on the field! There’s nothing you can do for Phoebe right now. I’ll let you know right away if we find her.”

Dan regarded him with haunted eyes. “Don’t let anything happen to her, Ron. For God’s sake, find her!”

Ron wanted to reassure him, but he could only say, “I’ll do my best.”

One level below, Hardesty reached into his pocket for a fresh pack of cigarettes. Phoebe’s eyes were stinging from the smoke, adding to the misery of the pain in her arms and wrists. The silence between them had strained her nerves to the point where she had to speak.

“Whose office is this?”

For a moment she didn’t think he would reply. Then he shrugged. “One of the engineers. He has to stay with the generators until the gates close, so he won’t be popping in for a visit, if that’s what you’re hoping.”

The silent screen showed the Sabers kicking off. She flinched as he turned up the volume.

“You’re not going to get away with this.”

“You know something? I don’t care. As long as the Stars lose the championship, I don’t fucking care!”

Hardesty glanced at the TV, then moved to the desk, where he picked up the telephone and punched four buttons. Several seconds passed before he spoke into the receiver.

“This is Bob Smith with the Stars. I’ve got Phoebe Somerville here, and she wants to talk to Coach Calebow. Patch this call through to the sidelines, will you?” He paused, listening. “She doesn’t give a shit about authorization. She says it’s important, and she’s the boss, but it’s your ass, so you do what you want.”

Whoever was on the other end must have decided to go along with the request because Hardesty slid the phone to the end of the desk closest to where she was sitting. The wheels squealed as he caught the back of her chair and pulled her to it. He waited silently, his hand clenching the receiver, and then he tensed.

“Calebow? I got somebody here wants to talk to you.” He pushed the receiver to Phoebe’s ear.

“Dan?” Her voice was thin with fear.