Love Inspired Suspense January 2014 (57 page)

“Is that why you didn't want us talking to Hugh Peterson?” Max said. “Did he know about your loan?”

“Yes. I don't know how, but he knew. He came and asked me about it. I didn't want him to tell you so I tried to keep him away.”

“It's after two o'clock,” Jackie said, skating up to them. “Are we racing or not?”

Laney was still too tongue-tied to talk, but Max spoke up. “Sure, couple more minutes.”

She nodded and skated to the far end where Beth was practicing.

Max looked out over the ice. “Do you think Ancho had something to do with messing up Laney's skates?”

“I don't know. I wouldn't put it past him. Anything to scare me into getting his money back.”

“That's why you arranged to sell the cabin, isn't it?” Laney said.

Her father gave a startled jerk, then nodded. “But it's not a good market right now. It's taking longer than I thought.” He sighed and her heart broke a little more. “Laney, I'm so sorry, honey. I never should have done something so stupid, but I could not stand to see your dream die. Forgive me.”

She clutched him to her, grief so thick it nearly choked off her breathing. “My dream is not worth this, Daddy.”

He pulled her away, tears filling his eyes. “I'll find a way to pay him by the end of the week.”

“How much do you owe him?” she whispered.

“Thirty thousand dollars,” he said with trembling lips.

The figure whirled in her brain. Where would they find that much money? And what would happen to her father if he didn't? But the Aston Martin, it would be enough to take Ancho down. Wouldn't it?

Max was talking quietly. “Put on your skates, Laney. You've got a drill to do.”

She glared at him. “I can't race. My father is in trouble, Max.”

Her father grabbed her hands and squeezed them until she gasped.

“Laney, please don't let this all be for nothing. There's a God-breathed reason you're here, why you and your sister came into our lives and why you have a passion for this sport. It's going to lead you to something in your life that you were meant to do. Maybe a medal, maybe not, but you have to do it.”

“No, Dad.” She shook her head and freeing her fingers, unzipped her skin suit. “I need to help you. We've found some proof that Ancho really did abduct me. I'll meet with the police and they'll arrest him.”

“Laney,” he whispered, catching up her hands once again. “Race for me, for your stupid old father who threw away everything to see you fly across that ice.”

“Daddy...”

Coach Stan glided up to the benches and leaned his forearms on the edge. “Is there a problem? Race time was ten minutes ago.”

Laney looked from Max to her father.

“Do it, Laney. Please,” he whispered. His face was pale and sunken around the lips and eyes. The love there shimmered far brighter than any mistake he had ever made.

After what felt like a very long time, she sighed. “Be there in two seconds, Coach.” She zipped up her suit and laced on her skates. Both Max and her father looked supremely relieved and Coach Stan left. “I'll race, but I'm going to help you out of this mess, Dad, whether you like it or not.”

Max came close to her as she stepped onto the ice. “Now's the time to see what you're made of, Laney. Mental toughness.” He handed over her gloves.

“Mental toughness.” She gave her father one more look and she hoped he'd see in there the love that was brimming over in her heart, along with the sorrow at what he'd done for her.

SIXTEEN

T
hrough sheer force of will, Max kept his mind on the race, shoving thoughts of Ancho and Dan Thompson's disastrous choice to the background. He noticed Diane in the stands chatting via the Bluetooth device in her ear. It did not look like an idle conversation, but he was glad to see her click off and lean forward in anticipation of the race. Most of the athletes were also gathered in the seats, eager to see a head-to-head competition.

This would indeed be a test of Laney's mental toughness after hearing Dan's news. Could she actually leave it all on the benches and focus on the race?

Plant the point of your blade.

Laney dug the tip into the ice and crouched low, arms crooked, one in front and one behind. Classic race stance.

Explosive start.

The bell sounded and Laney took off like a rocket, charging forward with short, quick strides. But as they smoothed out into longer gliding strokes, Beth quickly assumed the first position.

Not a problem. What separated the best in the world from the merely good skaters was the turns, and Laney, when she was on, was a master. Today she did not disappoint. Her gloved hand down for support, she created as much pressure as she could with her blades against the wet ice. Three laps to go.

You've got it, Laney.
Pride tingled his nerves, as much for her courageous spirit as for her perfect race form.

Laney stayed comfortably in second place, waiting, he knew, for Beth's confidence or strength to wane just the slightest bit. Laney was looking for the slot. At the beginning of the last turn, she found it. His position in the stands allowed him to see Laney turn up the speed and pass on the straightaway, but as they struggled into the corner, he saw Beth reach out and give Laney's hip a push. Patently illegal. No contact allowed on the corners.

His breath caught, but Laney adjusted quickly, not allowing the bump to throw off her technique. Digging hard, chest heaving with the effort, Laney continued her relentless pace in the last lap and skated easily to the finish in first place.

Outwardly, he kept a tranquil smile, inside he was shouting with jubilation. She'd showed the coaches and the other team members who had gathered to watch that she was indeed a world-class competitor who had just skated a flawless race and beat a girl seven years her junior. And she'd shown herself that she had the spirit to put everything behind and grind it out to the finish line.

For a moment, he felt the barest flicker of shame that he had not done the same himself. Blaze, the champion, had let his injury end his career but more significantly, he'd let it define him.

Shaking off the melancholy thoughts, he joined her as she stepped off the ice and put on her guards, giving her a hug so tight her hammering heartbeat seemed to transfer itself into his own body. “Now, that's skating, Birdie,” he said, coming close, and somehow his lips touched the delicate shell of her ear.

She grinned at him. “See? I still got it.”

“Yes, you do,” Diane Morrison said, climbing down the stairs to the bottom level. “Doesn't look like you've lost anything since you've been away. That was poetry in motion.”

Beth clomped off the ice, breath heaving. “Nice race, Laney.”

“You, too,” Laney gasped, giving Beth a hug.

Beth grinned. “I can't believe you actually pulled it off.”

“In spite of the bump,” Max could not stop himself from saying.

Beth unzipped her skin suit. “What bump?”

“The bump you gave her at the second corner,” Jackie said. “You know better.”

“It's short track,” Beth said with a shrug. “The five hundred meters is four laps of crazy, every woman for herself. If she can't handle a little bump, then she shouldn't be racing.”

Diane laughed delightedly. “She gets that attitude from me, I'm afraid.”

Jackie did not smile. “She needs to win the right way or she'll always know she didn't earn it.”

Diane's chuckle died away. “And isn't that your job, to make sure she earns it? I'm paying you pretty good money to make sure there's nothing between her and first place on the podium.”

“I do my job. Your daughter needs to do hers.”

“I expected better from her this close to the qualifiers. Maybe she needs to do it with another coach,” Diane said.

Jackie's chin went up, the lights glinting on her pale hair. “Do you think that would really be a wise thing to do?”

Diane's face went hard as stone. “Rest assured that I'm not burdened by sentimentality or obligation like others are. I'm only interested in results. I'll do what's necessary.”

“Mom,” Beth said, her tone pleading. “I'll work harder. It's my thing, not Jackie's. I've been lazy, and I'll do better.”

Diane flicked a look at her daughter and then turned on her heel and left the arena.

Beth turned to Jackie. “She's grumpy, that's all. It makes her cranky to be away from work. Let's look over the tapes, and I'll work on whatever you want me to.”

Jackie allowed Beth to touch her hand. It was the first time Max had seen any kind of physical contact between them, and then Jackie pulled away.

They made their way to Dan, who clasped Laney close to his chest. “Seeing you do that, skate that well, it makes me think everything will turn out all right.”

Laney did not look convinced, but she went to the changing room while Max and Dan went over the notes from the race. Dan rubbed at his temples. “I am going to pay you your back salary, Max, just as soon as I can sell the cabin. Ancho will get his money and you'll get yours.”

Max didn't like being lumped into the same sentence as Ancho, but he held his tongue.

“I've been thinking about the whole situation, you borrowing from Ancho. Does it seem odd to you that Ancho would approach you about money? Doesn't it usually work the other way around with loan sharks?”

Dan grimaced. “I don't know. Never in all my wildest dreams would I have even imagined myself borrowing money from a guy like that, but he seemed so earnest—he knew all about the accident. He said he figured we had earned a break after what happened.”

Max frowned. “Did he tell you anything specific about the accident? Something that he shouldn't have known about?”

“No.” Dan's eyes clouded with worry. “Are you thinking he knows who hit you?”

Max considered sharing what Hugh Peterson had divulged, but he thought it might be more than the man could take to know he'd made a deal with a guy covering for the hit-and-run driver. “Just thinking out loud. I know you'll pay me when you can. I'm in this for more than the money.”

Dan looked closely at him. “I know that. I've always known it. That's why I hired you to train Laney.”

Max sighed. “I was afraid... Sometimes it occurred to me, that you might have chosen me because you pitied me.”

A smile lit the tired corners of Dan Thompson's face. “Son, I chose you because you care about my daughter, not just because of whatever medals wind up hanging around her neck. You need someone like that to stand by you when you're on that podium and someone to hold your hand when you don't make it to the winner's circle.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “I had that in Linda. And my girls have that in me. I may have messed things up for now, but that will never change.” Tears glittered in his eyes. “I just wish I hadn't been so dumb. I won't ever forgive myself. God blessed me with two beautiful girls, and I let them down. I'm a terrible provider.”

Max watched the tears slide down Dan's cheeks. He stood awkwardly, feeling an unsteady tide of emotion wash through him. “Seems like Laney would say God made you more than just a provider.”

Dan started, then his eyes opened wide and he smiled. “I can see that I did one thing right when I hired you.”

Max didn't understand the warmth he felt inside, nor the curious way Laney's comment circled in his mind, her bizarre view that racing was only a small piece of what he was meant to see, to be.

He was relieved when Laney showed up, changed into her workout gear for the rest of the day's training, cheeks still flushed petal pink from her exertions. “Ready to hit it hard?”

The smile she flashed at them both disappeared rapidly. Looking behind him, Max saw Officer Chen striding through the arena.

* * *

Chen wore street clothes, and for that, Laney was grateful. At least he didn't attract as many curious glances from the bystanders. Her father's face pinched in anxiety. She realized he did not want her to reveal his debt to Ancho, but she knew if it came down to her father's safety, she would swallow the risk and tell him everything.

“Did you find the car?” she said eagerly.

Chen held up a calming hand. “First off, the property is indeed owned and operated by Trevor Ancho. I confirmed that with him before I did my investigation. According to him, it's left unattended most of the time as he's moved on to other interests. I should add that he was cooperative and genial.”

Genial. Right.
“And?” She did not see in his face what she hoped for.

“And I was on my way out there an hour after I hung up with you. It's a good thing you told me about Chester. I brought a roast-beef sandwich,” Chen said with the ghost of a smile.

Max stood motionless, eyes riveted on Chen. “Is it enough proof to corroborate Laney's story? Can you arrest him?”

Chen hesitated. “No.”

“Why not?” Laney snapped. “What else can you possibly need?”

“The car.” Chen gave her a hard look. “There was no Aston Martin or any other car in that room behind the shed. It was completely empty.”

Laney heard a buzzing in her head. “How could it be empty? We saw a car, three of us, not more than a few hours ago. Max took a picture. Ancho must have moved it.”

“Your picture shows the front end of a sports car, no plates showing, in a darkened area that could be anywhere. I spoke to the couple who live up the mountain, Chester's owners. They didn't notice anyone moving vehicles to and from the property.”

“I can't believe this,” Laney said. Her father squeezed her shoulder with a calming hand, but it did nothing to soothe her. “What can we do now? He wins at every heat.”

The officer's lips thinned into a hard line. “Let me lay this out straight for you. Trevor Ancho is clean, as far as I can tell. He's got an alibi for the time you say you were abducted and he doesn't own an Aston Martin. What's more, he's an excellent citizen who has helped out with plenty of civic causes and donations. He let me onto the property when he didn't have to, and he's been nothing but cooperative. Helped build the play structure in town that my kids enjoy. In other words...”

“In other words,” Max broke in. “You think we're making this all up to slander the guy. Why would we?”

Chen shifted. “Maybe because Mr. Thompson here owes him money.”

Laney heard her father gasp. “How did you know that?” she managed to say.

“He told me he loaned your father a sum of money to help with your training costs, and Mr. Thompson has had difficulty paying it back. Ancho says he is perfectly willing to wait for repayment, so if these...” he gestured with his hands “...these accusations are in some way an attempt to escape the debt, you don't have to worry.”

“They're not,” Laney almost shouted, drawing attention from three male skaters warming up on the ice. She lowered her voice. “They're not accusations. Ancho loaned money to my father, and now he's pressuring him to pay it back. He's physically threatened both of us. Can't you see that?”

Her father's face had gone ashen, his mouth partly open as he panted for breath. “It's true, Officer. I borrowed money, and Ancho has been threatening me to repay. He's a loan shark.”

“At the present time, I see no evidence of that. No car, no witnesses who say that he's threatened anyone, not one shred of evidence that he's in the business of loaning out money. You're the only one who seems to be in debt to him, as far as I can ascertain.”

“He's not who he pretends to be,” her father said, jaw clenched. “I should have said something earlier. It's my fault.”

“No, Dad. You tried to help.” She gripped his hand, which felt hot in her fingers. “So you're saying there is nothing we can do here?”

“I'm saying you need to take care of your own business and stop harassing Mr. Ancho before you wind up at the wrong end of a slander suit.” Chen gave them all a final look and walked away.

“This is a nightmare,” Laney whispered. They went to the benches and sat. Max unzipped his duffel and handed Laney a bottle of water.

“Drink,” he commanded. “You need to hydrate.”

She chugged the water until it was half gone, handing some to her father, who was sweating in spite of the cool temperature. Ancho was genial and cooperative. Laney Thompson was a crazy person trying to slander him. What was happening? Her world was spinning out of control. She didn't notice Tanya approach, skating up to the edge of the ice, ready for her own turn at a practice race.

“Hey, Laney. Good race,” she said. “I...” Her words trailed off, mouth opened into an O of surprise.

“What's wrong?” Max said.

She was staring into his open duffel bag, at the sharpening kit that Nolan had found. “How did you get my sharpening kit?”

“It's yours?” Max said.

“Yeah, that's my red tag around the handle. Keeps me from picking up the wrong one. It's been missing for a while. Where did you find it?”

Max looked at Laney, who could only manage a small nod.

He cleared his throat. “A friend of ours found it in the junkyard, inside a white car, a car that might be the one that hit us.”

Tanya's face went pale, then flushed an unhealthy red. For a moment, Laney thought her legs might give out underneath her and send her down hard on the ice.