Never Hug a Mugger on Quadra Island (29 page)

Up the far side, an extended spin—Shane fell.

The crowd gasped. So did Alana. Shane caught the ice on his hip, then elbow and back. Instantly he was up, not appearing hurt. The crowd sighed in relief. He smiled, carried on, catching up to his music, leaps and spins backwards and forwards, ice dust on his hip and back. He scored just out of contention, fourth. Off the podium, first time in five years.

“Every skater falls,” said Shorty, “but a damn shame he did it in this competition.”

Alana said to Shorty, “Would you run that again, please?”

“What? The whole tape? I got to get to my carrots.”

“No, just the fall, please.”

Shorty rewound. Shane finished the double, the triple, went into the spin—

“Stop! There!”

“What?”

“Can you do slow motion? Frame by frame?”

Uncle Noel kicked in. “What's up, Alana? We've taken a lot of Shorty's time.”

Alana ignored him, continued to Shorty. “Have you watched the fall real close?”

“Just when it happened.”

“Please, let's watch again, then in slow motion. It's so weird for him to fall.”

Shorty raised his eyebrows, rewound again, Shane fell again, got up—

Frame by frame, spin, fall—

“See there on that toe loop? Looks like Shane's pick did something, or he dug it in and changed edges . . .”

“Where?” said Shorty.

“Run it again. Look hard.”

Shorty rewound, then frame by frame played Shane's skate from the triple. Noel couldn't figure out what Alana was on about.

“There!” The cat bolted from the sofa. Alana stood, walked up to the TV, pointed. Shorty stopped the frame. “He's dug his pick in. And look!” She made a clicking motion with her thumb. Shorty obliged. “See? He should be on his back outside edge. But he's picked with his left toe and come down on his inside right edge. Then he falls. Weird.”

Shorty backed the film up, ran the few frames.

“What are you saying, Alana?” Kyra asked.

Alana kept her eyes on Shorty. He re-ran the frames.

“What?” Kyra repeated.

The tension in the room sparked.

“You think he tossed it?” Shorty asked Alana.

“Strange mistake for someone that good.”

“Everybody makes mistakes.” Shorty ran the piece again. Shane came out of the spin, started his toe loop, raised his other leg as if to push off, shifted to his back outside edge, landed on the right, fell—

Noel was grasping for a sense of the sequence. “Did he just lose his balance?”

“Why would he do that?” Shorty asked, of no one. “It was a simple accident. Damn bad timing, that's all.” He ran the frames once more.

Kyra shifted on the sofa. “Why would he do it? What does it mean?”

Shorty put the remote down. The screen blanked. He stood up, paced around. “It's a hard charge,” he said to Alana. “Let's look at the beginning again.” She perched on the sofa arm.

Shane in his space suit, arms raised, smile. Shorty rewound until Shane skated out to begin, slowed this to watch each frame. He wound back to the beginning of the faun-suit program. “He looks more present there,” Kyra observed.

Back to the space suit. “Tense,” Noel said. “Maybe.”

Shorty shut off the TV and re-wound the tape. “Only thing to do is ask Shane. I won't believe he did that on purpose unless I hear it from him.”

Noel stood. So did Kyra and Alana. “Are you certain, Alana?”

“Uh—,” she shrugged. “He probably has an explanation.” She bit her lip. “Maybe I shouldn't have said anything.”

“We gotta ask him,” Shorty repeated.

“We'll do that now. Shane's still in the hospital.” Noel led the parade to the door. “Thanks, Shorty. Get to your carrots.”

“I'm coming too. He's one of mine. Cats can do the carrots.”

Kyra and Noel exchanged a glance. Kyra said, “The hospital allows two people in at a time. Noel and I'll talk to Shane. We'll let you know.”

“Kyra's right.”

Shorty frowned. He looked at Alana before he conceded. “You phone me immediately. I can be over in minutes.”

Noel and Kyra nodded.

“You want to stay here?” Shorty asked Alana. “Do some weeding?”

Was he asking not to be left alone? He looked very worried.

“I'll go to the hospital, Shorty,” Alana said. “I'll phone the minute I know anything.”

“Shorty,” Noel sounded tense, “what's your best analysis?”

The tall, thin, mustachioed man looked from Noel, to the girl, to the woman. “Suspicious.” He turned to his garden. “Be easy with Shane.”

•  •  •

Steve and Shu-li strolled from the house along one of the paths through the woods to the top of the southern cliff overlooking Austin's beach. Below to the right gentle surf broke against a line of craggy rocks. They stood a couple of feet apart, Steve steepling his fingers. “Think Carl will find a way for Shane?”

“I felt good about it when we were talking.”

“Now?”

She shrugged. “Now I can't say.”

“Not feeling optimistic?”

She stared out to sea. “I'd like to talk to you about something else.” She turned to face him. Now he was splaying his fingers. Should she get into this?

“Aren't we talking now?”

“We've known each other for a long while, right? And I trust you.”

“Well, that's good. Because I certainly trust you.”

“Can I trust you not to talk to Austin about what I'm going to say?”

He tilted his head to look at her face. “If it's important to you, I will discuss nothing you tell me with Austin.”

She believed him. She cared for Austin a great deal, but she had to sound Steve out. “How important is our project to you?”

“Taking down Arensen, making him bleed? Very.”

She nodded. “Do you think it will happen?”

“What do you mean?”

“I'm worried. I think things are falling apart.”

“Because of Shane's injury?”

“All of it. Shane, my Miranda—she's so young still. Your guy, Graham. You've haven't praised him since you've been here. Is he going to become one of our tools, Steve? Good enough for Arensen to want to take him under his wing?”

Steve remained silent. He interlocked his fingers and tensed them from nearly horizontal to right angles.

Shu-li put both her hands on his. “Don't do that, listen to me. You're not talking to Austin. This is just me. Will Graham be ready to play his part?”

He pulled his hands from hers and stared at the ground. “I don't know.”

“Look at me.” Steve did. “I want to destroy Harold. But we're not getting there. Shane was our real chance. I don't see it happening.”

“Austin thinks he still can—”

“What, hypnotize Shane into mending? It's a multiple fracture. Austin's good, but he's fooling himself.”

“But if Certane can get past that—”

“Carl's good too, but I heard it in his voice—we're on the wrong track. The rules are too tight, there's no wiggle room.”

Steve's right hand grabbed his left fingers, started to massage them. He dropped them as he saw Shu-li eyeing his move. “What're you saying? We should call it off?”

“We have to talk to Austin. Make him see. Maybe try again later.”

“With a new trio of students? I'm not sure I'm up to it.”

“Austin has to listen to us. Stop telling himself everything's going to be okay.”

Steve shook his head. “Normally I enjoy being here on Quadra with the two of you. The three days together gives me new energy.”

“Yes,” she said, “me too.”

“But it's strange. By the fourth day I'm ready to leave.”

Shu-li felt a sharp chill take her.

“Must be a throwback to my skating days. By the fourth day I wanted to get away from people like myself.”

She forced herself to smile. “Even when you were in the final round?”

“Especially. That intensity.” He nodded wistfully. “This time I'm ready to leave now.”

The fourth day. Her heart pounded. She glanced down to the surf. All these years, was this why she'd felt such discomfort? “Come on, let's go back.” She led the way.

•  •  •

Noel drove through the hospital lot twice. No space. He parked half a block away. Walking back, Alana said, “Please may I come with you?”

“It's an interrogation, Alana,” Noel said. “Three on one doesn't work.”

“I noticed the strange fall.” She pulled back from a pout.

“Yes, you did. Thank you.”

“We've got to take it from here,” Kyra finished. “We'll meet up at the cafeteria.”

Alana looked at them, their tones as businesslike as their demeanors. She dragged out her iPhone, plugged in the ear pieces, turned something on and walked away.

Shane was dressed, sitting on the edge of his bed. Tim sat in the visitors' chair. “Hi,” Kyra said, “How're things?”

“They're letting me go home,” Shane said with a smile. “Dad's getting me a loaner wheelchair and crutches.”

Noel said, “We'd like to talk, Shane. Tim, Alana's in the cafeteria. Will you join her?”

“Oh.” He looked at Shane, at Noel and Kyra. He took off his cap. “Well.”

“We'll be down soon,” Kyra said. Noel sat in Tim's chair. Kyra remained standing. Shane watched Tim leave, then stared at his cast.

Kyra closed the door. “Shane, we've watched the tapes of your competitions. You're very good. We also saw you fall. We watched that one about ten times. Frame by frame. We have some questions about it.”

Shane swiveled his head from her to Noel, made as if to stand on his cast, flinched and squirmed back onto the bed. “Yeah?”

Noel said, “We watched the tapes with Shorty and Alana. They think there was something suspicious about that fall. They pointed out that you dug your pick in on the toe loop, which you started on the back outside edge and ended on the inside right. Shane, did you throw that competition?”

His face had turned pale. “What do you think I am, man?”

“A liar,” said Kyra. “You're too good a skater to have fallen right there. Why didn't the judges pick it up?”

Sweat had formed on his brow “I don't know.” His pupils contracted.

Silence, as all realized what Shane had admitted.

“Why, Shane?” Noel asked.

Shane shrugged, let out a sob, twisted so he could fall onto his pillow.

“Why, Shane?” Kyra watched his shoulders tremble. Some instinct drew her to rub his back, but she resisted. “You're too beautiful a skater to throw away a career.”

Noel: “We know Derek was dealing pot to support your career. He's in a coma. We know someone sideswiped Tim, on purpose. We do not think someone hit the car you were in to damage you, but to get rid of Kyra and me, the investigators. You seem to be the crux of this. You and that fall. Why'd you do it, Shane?”

Shoulders heaving slowly. Mumbling.

“What did you say?” Kyra moved closer.

Now his chest heaved. Now she did rub his back. He was just a kid. When he moved on skates, a beautiful kid. After a few seconds the heaving subsided and Kyra drew back.

Shane sat up. Noel handed him the box of tissue. Shane blew and wiped. “The judges didn't catch it. They didn't disqualify me. I just didn't get a medal.”

“Why?” Noel asked.

Shane took a deep breath. He stared out between Noel and Kyra. “Austin—” Shane's mouth stayed open. They waited. A whisper. “Austin told me I had to.”

Kyra shivered. “But—why?”

“Because if I didn't fall he'd stop—” he sniffed a sob, “—supporting me.”

They stared at him. Noel whispered, “Why did he want you to fall?”

“I don't know!” He shuddered. “I don't know.”

Kyra now: “But what good did it do him if you fell in that competition?”

“I wish I knew. He said I had to fall, make it look accidental. That's all I know.”

“I think you know something more than that,” Noel said.

“What? What more?”

“You tell us.”

Shane stayed silent. They waited. Ten seconds passed, twenty. Shane stared at the floor. He spoke but so quietly they heard no words.

Noel asked, “What did you say?

“I know something else.”

“What?”

“He—wants me to fall again.”

“When?”

“In September. First qualifying round.” He breathed in hard, small gulps of air.

His tone acerbic, Noel said, “You won't be falling soon, not with that leg.”

Shane squeezed his eyes shut. Tears seeped out. “I couldn't, I couldn't. I've been an asshole but I know what I can't do! I can't stand it!”

“He simply told you to fall, just like that?”

Shane shook his head. “When he took me on. When I was fourteen. He said one day I'd have to do something for him. He made me promise. He'd let me know when.”

“And he waited, what, four years?”

Shane stared at Kyra. “Do you know how hard this is?”

“It'll get easier.” Kyra could feel a great resistance in Shane, words he couldn't bring himself to say. “Just tell us all of it.”

“He started pushing. A year or so ago. Then in the winter he insisted.”

“But how could he insist?”

“He has the money. He bought me everything I needed. And—”

They waited. Noel prompted: “And finally you gave in.”

A long sigh. “Yeah. I gave in.”

“That's it? That's all.”

“Isn't that enough?!”

“Is there something more you're not telling us?”

“I can't do it again!”

Noel said, “He can't make you. He can try to undercut your skating career, but he can't make you be untrue to yourself.”