by Dana Mentink
Though it was not his primary purpose in being there, Shane still felt the competitive juices rising up. He loved pitting his body against the elements and emerging victorious. It gave him the fleeting sense that he was in control of his life, and nothing else mattered. Not relationships he’d ruined, or lives he’d lost.
The way grew bumpy as they neared the course, rising to follow a limestone rim through stands of pine and spruce. The October rains had awakened pockets of grass and clusters of Jimsonweed, their white flowers still twisted shut. Shane rolled down the window to suck in a lungful of air, so clean it cut right through him. He remembered riding trails like these with Kelly. With deli sandwiches and cold water in their packs and the open trail in front of them, he’d thought he had finally found the place he belonged, a place where the past and present did not collide.
But in spite of Shane’s efforts, the past had a monstrous way of insinuating itself into his happiness. He shot a glance at Kelly as they pulled the cars to a stop and got out. She’d caught her fantastic mane of hair into a ponytail and put on a Desert Quest Medic baseball cap. Her face told him she was in nurse mode. No nonsense allowed.
Good, he thought, as he rolled their bikes to the top of the course. She’d have no patience for Devin’s hollow charm. Leaving the bikes, they all flocked to the edge where they could get a glimpse of what lay in store. After fifteen minutes of conversation or so, Chenko joined them, clipboard in one hand and radio in the other. He went ahead a few yards down the trail, where there was a sharp drop-off on one side. He looked the trail over closely. Devin busied himself snapping pictures of the fifty racers who talked excitedly, pointing to various elements of the course.
Shane understood their excitement. The course offered a variety of trail conditions, from single to double track, packed dirt, grass and rock, steep climbs and heart-stopping descents. Every adrenaline junkie’s dream. His muscles tensed with anticipation.
Chenko returned and gave them the thumbs-up. “It’s wet, but not too bad. It will give all you racing nuts an extra thrill!”
There was a collective cheer and hooting from the group.
“Remember now,” he cautioned, “it’s a sneak peek, a chance for you to get the feel of it. About three miles down is a turnoff that will loop back up here, so I expect to see you all in an hour. This is only the appetizer. Tomorrow is the main course.” The steel in his voice brooked no argument.
Tomorrow, Shane echoed, feeling a sudden prick of urgency. Tomorrow Todd would be one day closer to a life in prison. Would Shane be any nearer to proving him innocent?
He spotted Ackerman taking pictures of the assembled racers as they strapped on helmets and headed down the trail. They were taking the trip in order of team captain’s last name, so Shane had time before he and Gleeson had their turn. A few minutes to ask some questions, find out who knew Ellen Brown.
He saw that Betsy had taken Ackerman by the elbow and drawn him a few paces away from the crowd. Moving closer, Shane brushed by Kelly.
She gave him a close look. “Excited about the course?”
“Yeah, itching to take it on. Was that your aunt I saw in camp?”
“Yes, she’s come to watch Charlie during the race events.”
Shane nodded. “He’ll like that, I’m sure.”
She didn’t answer, and the silence between them thickened.
He flicked a glance at Ackerman. Betsy was gesticulating to him angrily. “Seems like those two are having some trouble.”
Kelly followed his gaze. “Looks that way.” She hesitated for a moment before putting a hand on his arm, the fingers squeezing slightly. “Shane, just focus on the race. It’s a dangerous course. If your mind is somewhere else…”
“What’s the matter, Kell? You’re afraid I’ll get hurt? I’m practically a superhero on a bike. Without the cape, of course.” He tried for a light and flirty tone, the old Shane Mason who loved a good laugh and kept all the darkness bottled up tight.
She read the tone underneath and removed her hand. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
Just her professional side talking. Nothing more.
The withdrawal was bigger than just her hand pulling away. He saw the first racer head down the trail. “I’ll do what I came here to do.” He felt her eyes following him as he headed toward his bike.
Gleeson was already putting on his own helmet and rolling his bike toward the start. Up ahead, coppery braid trailing down her back, Betsy’s voice rose in anger as Shane approached.
“That’s just fine, isn’t it? I’ve done everything for you.”
Ackerman saw Shane coming and tried for a smile, at the same time holding up a calming hand to Betsy. “We’ll talk later.”
“No, we won’t,” she snapped, pulling away from him and storming toward the bikes.
“Women,” Ackerman said, a sheepish grin on his face.
“Guess she’s immune to your charm.”
He shrugged. “A tiff. It will blow over.”
Some tiff. He thought about asking Ackerman about the picture of Olivia and Betsy. No, he decided. He’d ask Betsy himself. She might be more likely to let drop some details that he could use about what had happened the year before. Maybe he’d luck out, and she’d have an old phone number for Ellen. Perhaps they’d been pals.
Shane moved toward his bike, stepping out of the way as Betsy pedaled past, her lips drawn tight, eyes narrowed.
“Hang on, Betsy. That’s…”
She zoomed by him and headed down the course. He trotted to a spot where he could watch her descent. It was an easy slope for the first ten yards, but just before the turn, the trail dropped off sharply. Betsy eased back until she was actually crouched behind her bicycle seat, her weight over the rear wheel. It was clear she was a good rider.
He continued to watch, arms folded. A murmur went through the crowd as the bike suddenly wobbled and the rear wheel collapsed on itself. There was a collective gasp from the onlookers as Betsy went down. The last thing he saw was the bike tipping over the cliff side and Betsy hurtling through the air, her braid catching the light as she spun.
His legs moved of their own accord as he ran down the trail, slipping on a patch of loose rock. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ackerman following and Kelly behind him. In a rush of loose earth, his heart beating rapidly, Shane made his way down.
Sliding to a stop at the turn, he looked over the side. The battered bike was a few yards down, caught on a rock, one of the wheels still turning crookedly. He ran to it, searching behind the shrubs and rocks for any sign of her.
“Where’s Betsy?” Ackerman panted as he scrambled down next to Shane.
“She’s up here,” Kelly called from above.
Ackerman made it back up to the trail first, and they both arrived breathless at the spot where Betsy lay, behind a screen of rock. Kelly knelt next to her, asking questions and running her fingers gently along Betsy’s neck, arms and legs.
“Thank goodness she didn’t go over the side with the bike,” Ackerman panted.
Betsy’s nose was bleeding, and her face was crusted with dirt. “Let go,” she snapped, trying to move out of Kelly’s grasp.
“I need to check you over,” Kelly said soothingly.
“I’m fine,” Betsy said, trying to rise. “Leave me alone.”
Kelly held Betsy in place. “You will lie still here until we see how bad your injuries are. Don’t move until I tell you.”
Something in Kelly’s tone must have convinced Betsy because she closed her eyes and lay still, answering Kelly’s questions in clipped syllables.
Ackerman knelt next to her and tried to take her hand, but she pulled it away.
Kelly shot him a look. “I need her to calm down now. Could you wait over there?”
Ackerman held up his hands and backed away. Martin Chenko barreled down the path, a radio clutched in his hand. “How is she? What happened? It was just a trial.”
Kelly stopped his rush of questi
ons. “I don’t think anything is broken. I’m concerned about a head injury.” She pulled a section of gauze from her backpack and pressed it to Betsy’s wound. “We should immobilize her and get her to the hospital for a CT scan.”
Betsy started to protest loudly.
Relieved that Betsy appeared to be at least conscious, Shane went back to the edge and climbed down to the bike. He had only a moment before Gleeson joined him.
“Bad way to start a race. Makes you wonder if it’s worth it.”
Gleeson had not seen the wheel collapse in on itself. Shane started to look closely at the bike, but a swarm of racers interrupted his examination. Several offered to help carry the bike up to the top, while another group headed for Betsy to offer words of encouragement. Gwen was among them, her face unreadable.
Shane stepped aside as Gleeson and the racers pulled the bike out. He made his way back to Kelly, his nerves prickling. He caught Kelly’s eye, and hers widened just a fraction.
The bond between them must not be completely broken because he could see that she got his message loud and clear: something isn’t right.
There was a flicker of alarm on her face, but it was nothing compared to the instincts roaring inside him.
SIX
Tearing her gaze away from Shane, Kelly eyed her patient. Betsy was sitting up now, against Kelly’s wishes.
“I’m fine. I didn’t hit my head and I’m not going to the hospital. A hot shower is all I need.”
“Betsy,” Chenko said. “Be a good girl now. Do what you’re told.”
“I’ve taken worse tumbles than this. I…”
He raised his voice a fraction to stop her from arguing. “Listen to me. If you continue and drop dead from a concussion, I’ll have to call off the race. You don’t want me to have to do that, do you? All the money I’ve put into this? All these racers disappointed?” There was an edge in his tone.
Something crossed Betsy’s face for a moment, but Kelly could not decipher it. Betsy opened her mouth to answer and then closed it. After a moment she nodded. “Okay. I’ll go for a scan but I’m not going on a stretcher, and I’ll be ready to start tomorrow.”
Chenko nodded. “Of course. We’ll find you a new bike and you’ll be tearing up the trails again tomorrow.” He turned to Kelly. “Didn’t think you’d be called upon already, did you?”
“I’m glad to be here to help. I’ll ride with her to the hospital.”
“Thank you. I’ll get this chaos back in order. Devin,” he called. “I’m going to need your help. Get the racers down the trail. Tell them they can walk it; no riding until it dries up some more.”
“I’ll drive, in case Kelly needs a hand,” Shane called out.
Kelly caught the look of surprise on Chenko’s face and Devin’s narrowed eyes. “I should go with her,” Devin said.
“No,” Betsy hissed, groaning as Kelly and Shane helped her to her feet. “I don’t want you to come.”
He looked as though he’d been slapped.
Soon they had her loaded into the backseat. Shane eased the car to the main road as gently as he could, while Kelly sat with Betsy. She did not complain as they jostled along, but the rough terrain must have aggravated her bruised body.
“Are you okay, Betsy?” Kelly asked.
“Fine.” She pressed her lips together and closed her eyes.
Kelly had phoned ahead, and fortunately the small medical center forty miles away was equipped to do a CT scan and a complete exam. The miles passed in slow motion, cliffs and grassland blurring together against the blue sky in what seemed a never-ending picture.
Kelly felt her stomach tighten, remembering the look on Shane’s face. It had been a long time since she’d felt the instant emotional connection they used to enjoy all the time. Not long ago they could finish each other’s sentences. She’d been able to detect somber moods in his tiniest inflection. They had shared more good times and unrestrained joy than she’d ever experienced in her life, but she’d always sensed there was a part of him—something from his past, a soul secret—that he had not shared with her. It had taken her until just that moment to realize that she hadn’t pressed him because of her own dark past.
She recalled in vivid detail the night she’d run. A wild seventeen-year-old, she’d begged her then-boyfriend for a ride, the alcohol making her reckless as the hot South Dakota cliffs that vanished into the rearview mirror. If they hadn’t stopped for gas, if her uncle Bill hadn’t called one last time. If she hadn’t felt the Lord urging her to turn around and go home.
She controlled a shudder. It was the narrowest of choices that separated her from the life that imprisoned her sister and controlled her mother for most of their childhood. The decision she’d made at that dirty gas station to go back home had saved her life. Maybe one simple choice like that would bring Rose back again, too.
Please, God. Bring Rose home.
Kelly refocused on Shane. Right now, though he was outwardly calm, she could read the tension in his jaw. He looked in the rearview mirror from time to time, but he did not make eye contact with her. Clearly, whatever it was, he did not want to discuss it with Betsy in the back.
His bangs hung in his face, lending him the roguish air that had always thrilled her. He was fearless about nearly everything, but something was weighing on him right now, and there was no way to identify it until they reached their destination.
An hour of relative silence passed, broken only by Kelly’s questions to Betsy to check for altered consciousness, and an occasional comment from Shane. With a profound sense of relief, they pulled into the clinic and met the waiting medics. They loaded Betsy on a stretcher in spite of her protests and took her for a scan.
Kelly sagged, feeling the tension ebb for the first time since she’d watched as Betsy had flown off her bike.
Shane caught her arm and pulled her to his side. “Let me buy you a cup of coffee. We need to talk.”
She didn’t argue. Pulled against his muscled arm, she let herself be guided along. They found a cafeteria, complete with bad coffee, and made their way to a small courtyard, empty except for an orderly reading a newspaper in the far corner. They sat at a table near a scraggly yucca plant.
Sliding into a chair, she felt her senses returning to normal. “What’s going on?” she demanded before the first sip.
He stared at her. “I’m not sure where to begin.”
She waited, watching his eyes flicker in thought, like ocean water rippled by a strong current.
He cleared his throat. “I don’t think Betsy’s crash was an accident.”
Kelly gulped the coffee and burned her tongue. “How do you figure that? Is it part of your theory about Ackerman?”
“I’m not sure.”
Kelly felt competing emotions swirl inside her. On the one hand, she wanted to reach out and shake the paranoia out of Shane, but there was something in his face that prevented her from moving. “Tell me what you think happened.”
“I only got a split-second look at the bike before they hauled it away.”
“And?”
“I think some of the spokes might have been partially cut.”
“Cut?” She gaped. “But that couldn’t happen. Everyone inspects their equipment before the race. There’s no way Betsy would have missed that.”
He hesitated. “First off, if the spokes were weakened, but not completely severed, she might not have. But we all went over our bikes back in camp. Then they were parked together while we looked at the course.” He paused. “Unattended.”
She shook her head. “That’s insane. No one would do that. With all those people watching?”
His eyes narrowed, the bright blue a startling contrast in his tanned face. “Someone did.”
She tried another tack. “Any racer worth their salt would check their bike again before race time.”
“You saw for yourself—Betsy was arguing with Ackerman.”
“But…”
“She was angry. She grabb
ed the bike and took off.”
Kelly sat back in her chair. He was clearly not going to listen to reason. “Okay. If you’re right, then call the police.”
“I thought about it, but that would end the race. Everyone would scatter, and I’d never find Ellen Brown.”
Kelly couldn’t stop herself. She reached out and took his hand. “There’s no certainty that Ellen would tell you anything different than she told the police, even if you did find her. Listen to yourself, Shane. You’re not making any sense. Your need to help your brother is blinding you to reality.”
For a moment, his long fingers tightened in hers, cupping their hands together. Then he pulled away and fixed his blazing eyes on hers. “I have to see this thing through. It’s the only way to save Todd. I’ve got to.”
“I know you want to help him…”
He slapped a hand on the table. “Listen, Kelly, I’m not going to lose a brother, not again.”
She frowned. Again? “What do you mean?”
He took a drink of coffee and shook his head. “Nothing. I’m not going to involve the police just now.”
“Well, what are you going to do? If you think the bike was tampered with, you have an obligation to say so. Other people could be hurt, and you can’t ignore that.”
“I won’t. I’m going to confront Ackerman and examine the bike. We’ll be able to see if the spokes were weakened.” He took her hand again and pressed his rough cheek into her palm, planting a soft kiss on the sensitive flesh. “I’m sorry I’ve brought you into all this, Kell. But will you believe me now? Will you take Charlie and get out of here before you get hurt?”
She stared into his face and saw his earnest plea. Her fingers tingled where his chin rested there. She slowly pulled her hands away. “I’ll have to see it for myself.”
He smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”
She shook her head to clear it. “Hang on. I’m not saying I believe any of this, but for the sake of argument, how would sabotaging Besty’s bike serve any purpose at all?”
