Chapter Twelve Mason Reed #2
Everyone stared.
Harper clarified quickly, “Max’s mum, Priya, commented on the clean fundraiser post. Ryan replied to her because apparently they know each other through the school committee.”
Billie’s face tightened. “What did he say?”
Max held up his phone.
Billie took it and read.
Mason leaned only enough to see after she angled it toward him.
PRIYA: Great to see local hockey getting support. Max is thrilled. Proud of the kids and staff.
RYAN VALE: Staff always knew how to turn drama into attention. Some things never change.
Billie’s hand tightened around the phone.
Mason’s blood went hot.
Harper said, “He deleted it. Priya screenshotted because she said it felt off.”
“Smart woman,” Evie said.
Max nodded. “That’s my mum.”
Billie looked at Harper. “Timestamp?”
“Two minutes after the IceBetTruth photo post.”
Mark Delaney entered behind Harper, slightly breathless. “What happened now?”
Everyone looked at him.
Mark’s gaze landed on the evidence bag.
Then the whiteboard.
His face changed. “Ryan.”
Billie’s head turned sharply. “You suspected him?”
“No. I mean, not until now.” Mark dragged a hand through his hair. “Graham called me after Luca’s drop-in. Said he loved the momentum but wanted assurance there wouldn’t be personal drama around Friday. He specifically asked whether Billie was comfortable being public-facing.”
Billie’s eyes narrowed. “That sounds normal.”
“It did,” Mark said. “Then he asked if any former staff might try to make trouble because of the attention.”
The room went silent.
Mason looked at the old badge in the bag.
Billie’s voice was icy. “And you didn’t think to mention that?”
Mark held up a hand. “Billie, I swear, I thought he meant general risk. You know how many former casuals we’ve had? Graham was being cautious. I didn’t connect it to Ryan.”
Evie folded her arms. “Convenient.”
Mark winced. “Fair.”
Billie’s face stayed controlled, but Mason saw the hurt under it.
Not romantic hurt.
Operational betrayal.
She trusted Mark with the rink. Maybe not completely, but enough. And he had left out a detail that now mattered.
Mark looked at her. “I should have told you.”
“Yes,” Billie said.
No yelling.
Worse.
Mark nodded. “I’m sorry.”
Billie did not answer.
She turned to Harper. “Document Ryan’s deleted comment. Save Priya’s screenshot. Thank her and tell her not to engage.”
Harper nodded.
“To Max,” Billie added, “not through Max.”
Max sighed. “I’m right here.”
“That is the issue.”
Mason coughed into his hand.
Billie pointed at him without looking. “Do not laugh.”
“I’m medically restrained.”
“Good.”
Mark looked at the evidence bag. “We need to call Graham.”
“Yes,” Billie said.
“Now?”
“Yes.”
Mark nodded slowly. “I’ll do it.”
“No,” Billie said. “We’ll do it together.”
Mason’s chest tightened.
There she went again. Walking toward the hard thing because someone had to.
Mark hesitated. “Billie, if Ryan is involved, Graham may react defensively.”
“I expect he will.”
“And because you fired Ryan, he may view it as personal.”
“It is personal. Someone stole my private photo from my dead father’s archive.”
The room went absolutely silent.
Billie’s voice had not risen.
That made every word land harder.
Mark swallowed. “You’re right.”
“I know.”
Mason watched her.
Pride and worry twisted together in him so tightly he had to look away.
Harper cleared her throat. “What do we do publicly if Ryan says more?”
Billie’s answer came fast. “Nothing about Ryan. We keep public messaging clean unless he forces a direct correction.”
“And the PuckSideDoor piece?” Mason asked.
Billie looked at him.
For one second, the temporary line hung between them again.
Stop, not a destination.
Then she looked at Harper. “Do not feed it.”
Mason said, “I can issue a statement.”
Billie’s jaw tightened. “No.”
“Not about you. About them using unnamed sources.”
“No.”
“Billie.”
She turned to him fully. “If you respond now, it validates the frame. If you say Sydney is not temporary, they will ask for proof. If you say your agent doesn’t speak for you, the story becomes conflict in your camp.
If you defend me, the story becomes romance.
If you say nothing, our fundraiser post keeps leading. ”
Mason hated every word because every word was smart.
He exhaled. “Okay.”
Her eyes softened for half a second.
Then Mark’s phone rang.
Everyone froze.
He looked at the screen. “Graham.”
Billie held out her hand.
Mark hesitated.
Billie’s look could have frozen lava.
He handed her the phone.
She answered and put it on speaker.
“Graham. Billie here. Mark is with me.”
A pause.
“Billie,” Graham Vale said smoothly. “I was hoping to speak with Mark first.”
Mason did not like the first.
Billie’s face did not change. “This concerns me directly.”
Another pause.
“Very well,” Graham said. “I assume this is about Ryan.”
Evie muttered, “Oh, he knows.”
Billie lifted one finger for silence.
“It is,” she said. “An old Harbour Ice access badge with Ryan’s name was found near the archive corridor. A torn piece of a private photo, the same photo posted anonymously today, was found nearby. Ryan also deleted a public comment implying staff manufacture drama for attention.”
Graham exhaled, slow and controlled. “That is concerning.”
“Concerning is a start.”
Mason’s mouth nearly twitched.
Even now.
Especially now.
Graham’s tone cooled. “Billie, I understand you and Ryan have history.”
Mason went still.
Bad phrase.
Very bad phrase.
Billie’s voice remained calm. “I fired him for cause.”
“I’m aware.”
“Then you understand this is not history. It is a security issue.”
Mark looked impressed and terrified.
Graham said, “Ryan has had no formal connection to Vale Community Partners for over a year.”
“Good,” Billie said. “Then protecting Friday’s fundraiser from his behaviour should not be complicated.”
Another pause.
Longer this time.
Mason found himself holding his breath.
Graham finally said, “What do you want from me?”
“I want confirmation that Ryan has no role in Friday’s event, no access to sponsor materials, no contact with your event staff, and no invitation under the Vale name. I also want you to instruct him not to contact Harbour Ice staff, volunteers, players, families, or media regarding this event.”
“That may be difficult.”
Billie’s eyes hardened. “Why?”
“He is an adult.”
“He is your nephew.”
“I do not control him.”