by Alina Adams
"I'm with you," Bex said. "And actually, I think I have an idea about how we can do that."
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
"What are we doing?" Craig asked.
"Breaking and entering."
"The door was unlocked."
"Okay, then," Bex conceded. "Just entering. But quietly."
Two hours before the Men's Short Program was about to start meant one hour before the 24/7 crew started assembling in the production truck to get ready for the broadcast. It also meant that the entire staff, both above and below the line, were currently on break, trying to eat drink, be merry, and live their entire nonskating-related day in the space of these precious sixty minutes. It also meant that the truck was deserted. The better to rifle through Gil's files.
"It's got to be here somewhere," Bex said, sifting through the manila-covered mound. "If it's not back at the production office, it's got to be here."
"What? You still haven't told me what we're looking for."
"Gil's paperwork for Coop's reality show."
"Coop has a reality show?"
"He will shortly. It was Tess's idea."
"What does it have to do with — "
"Here." Bex located the file and let her fingers do the walking through the multitude of pages before finding what she was looking for. "Here they are, just like I thought. Look, everybody who was in court yesterday, Sebi Vama included, signed a release giving permission to have his voice and image recorded in conjunction with Coop Devaney's reality show. It doesn't have an expiration date."
"Which means—"
"Which means that if Sebi Vama confesses to murdering Allie as a part of Coop's reality show, the recording is not illegal."
"So we're what, going to ambush him Jerry Springer-style?"
"No, no. Nothing like that. Sebi signed this waiver in perpetuity. There is nothing here that says he has to be reminded of it every time he opens his mouth."
Craig got with the program real quick-like. "Or even that he needs to be made aware that he's being videotaped."
"Exactly! I knew I liked you for a reason."
"However, to be legally binding, doesn't this mean that Coop Devaney needs to be somewhere in the vicinity while you are filming Sebi's confession?"
"I think so, yeah."
"Which means Coop Devaney needs to be in on this."
"Yeah." Bex sighed. "I think so."
"You said they were romantically involved."
"I saw them kissing."
"So what makes you think he'll turn on Sebi like this?"
"Well, Sebi had no problem selling out Coop's son and DNA."
"Doesn't mean Coop is equally easy."
"We'll never know until we ask, I guess. But maybe we'd better wait till Coop's in a receptive mood. After the Men's Short this afternoon. If he skates well, he might be feeling magnanimous. And if he skates badly, maybe he'll be out for blood."
For the actual competition, Bex was back in the broadcast booth with Francis and Diana. The arena, about half filled to capacity, nevertheless looked practically covered in "Super Cooper" posters and prepubescent girls wearing new sweatshirts with "Flying the Coop" silk-screened across the front over a picture of him mid-trick. Bex could just imagine Gil and Tess counting up their potential audience and wondering how much advertisers would be willing to pony up for such a coveted demographic. According to the pages she'd skimmed while looking for the legal releases, Gil was thinking of calling the show "Cooperstown." Because it had a very manly ring to it.
They had two different monitors at the announcer's table. One to watch a live feed of the skaters on the ice, and another so they could see the actual broadcast, complete with commercials and rolled-in personality features. Which was how, while Jeremy stroked around with his group of four other Senior men in the warm-up prior to their skate, Bex was able to watch the up-close-and-personal piece Mollie put together on him, using footage Bex had shot both earlier in the week, and a few months before, in Pennsylvania and Connecticut.
The four-minute overview wasn't all about Jeremy and his precocious quadruple jumps, however. It also was about his mother, Rachel Rose, a onetime champion Pairs skater who was abused, raped, and eventually murdered by her partner, Jeremy's father, Robby Sharpton. Bex had interviewed Rachel before her death, and Robby, too. Seeing them both onscreen now, before the tragedy, reminded Bex how careful she should really be when digging around in people's personal histories and secrets. This wasn't just a game — prove that Sebi killed Allison and get a pat on the head from Gil. This also could get very dangerous, very unexpectedly.
Warm-up over, Jeremy got ready to take the ice for his very first Nationals.
"Your boy better not screw up, Bex," Gil warned over the headset "Or else that piece was a major waste of time. And money."
The audience, who had yet to see the potentially wasted piece, clapped politely when Jeremy's name was announced. For the hard-core fans, he was the ultimate enigma. A boy who not only hadn't competed on the international circuit to date, he also hadn't so much as made a National appearance at even the Junior or Novice level. (Plus, Jeremy's behavior at practice over the past few days was hardly the kind that marked him as an up-and-comer.) The assumption was that he'd qualified due to some sort of fluke, like maybe the defending champion from his section was injured, and that Jeremy Hunt should enjoy his time at center ice; it probably would be his only opportunity.
Jeremy's music began and, after a lightning-fast combination spin that prompted a few fans to applaud in surprise, he set up for his first jump. Based on the way he turned and dug in his toe pick, the crowd was expecting a triple Toe Loop, probably in required combination with a double. Instead, what they got was a quad, followed by a triple Loop. For a moment the audience didn't realize what they'd just seen. And then they exploded in a roar of surprise that only got louder as, twenty seconds later, Jeremy followed that trick up with a quadruple Salchow.
For the rest of the program you could barely hear Jeremy's music as the spectators clapped, hollered, and stomped their feet. Even Diana and Francis seemed unable to find something to argue about.
Francis feebly offered, "Well, the young fellow is awfully young. His presentation isn't as mature as some in this — "
"Oh, shut up and enjoy it," Diana said.
Francis happily did.
Jeremy skated off to a standing ovation — "Not bad, Bex," Gil grudgingly admitted — and, ignoring the kiss-and-cry area where a 24/7 cameraman was frantically gesturing for him to sit, instead slid over to the barrier where his coach, Toni Wright, was still standing, seemingly frozen with shock at what they'd just done, and threw both his arms around her.
"How wonderful," Francis said. "How wonderful for Toni."
Antonia Wright, who, for years, had been dismissed as an also-ran, as the coach who could get skaters to a certain point, then needed to hand them over because she, it was widely understood, didn't have what it took to train a champion, had finally shown them all.
"Astounding," Diana said.
"Remarkable," Francis agreed.
And it was clear the praise was meant for both coach and student.
Jeremy finally sat down and waited for his marks. Which put him firmly in first place among those who'd already skated.
But no matter how phenomenal he'd just been, nobody seriously expected Jeremy Hunt to remain at the top of the standings for long.
Because Coop Devaney was the next skater.
He came out of the tunnel with Sebi by his side. Coop was wearing the same Short Program outfit he'd been competing in all year, the skin-tight red T-shirt and equally snug black pants. His hair was perfectly moussed to fall rakishly above his eyes, his makeup expertly applied to look like no makeup at all. And yet something was off. Bex couldn't put her finger on it, but the sense of imbalance was definitely there.
Coop rested one hand on Sebi's shoulder while he removed first his right, then his left skate-guard. Coop linked his fingers behi
nd his back and raised both arms to shoulder level, stretching. He took a swig of water from a bottle Sebi was carrying, then set it on the barrier. He stepped out on the ice, head down, bending first one leg, then the other, as if testing whether his knees were working.
"Representing the Figure Skating Club of Southern California..."
At the announcer's voice, Coop's head jerked up, Pavlovian-style.
"Please welcome..."
Arms out to the sides.
"Coooooper Devaneyyyyy!"
Big smile, and five smooth glides to take him to center ice.
Everything was exactly as it should be. And yet...
"He's not focused," Francis said, with, Bex noted, his mike firmly in the off position. The truly insightful comments he liked to keep to himself.
Diana agreed. In response to Bex's query as to how she knew that, Diana pointed at the monitor, which currently held a tight close-up of Coop's face. "Look at his eyes — they're darting all over the place. You can always tell, from the first minute, if it's going to be a good performance or not. A focused skater's eyes never budge. If the eyes are all over the place, the body will be, too."
Coop's first jump in the Short Program was scheduled to be a quadruple Toe Loop/triple Toe Loop combination. As he prepared to enter the jump, his left, vaulting leg bent just a bit at the knee, prompting Diana to gasp and Francis to shake his head in anticipation of a wipeout. For her part, Bex couldn't imagine how he would ever get the necessary height to attempt four revolutions in the air.
He didn't. But Coop, despite having less spring to work with than usual, did manage to whip around three times, rotating faster than Bex had ever seen him, through seemingly sheer force of will. He ended up completing an adequate — if not spectacular — triple Toe Loop. Which would hardly cost him any points, but also wouldn't earn him nearly the score that a quad in combination would have. Especially since, due to the weakness of the first jump, Coop didn't have enough oomph left for a second. Meaning that now he would still have to find another place in the routine to do the required combination jump.
"That," Francis intoned, "will not hold him in very good stead."
The rest of his routine, Bex had to admit, was letter-perfect. The screw-up with the combo seemed to have lit a fire under Coop, making him realize that he was fighting for his life now, and this couldn't be just another phone-it-in performance.
His spins were tight, quick, and perfectly centered. His footwork hit every bit of the music. When he whipped by the camera position and it caught another close-up, his eyes weren't wavering an inch.
Which was good, because coming up was what, in the original scheme of things, should have been Coop's required triple jump, a triple Axel. But if he was going to turn anything into the combination he'd missed earlier, this would be the place to do it.
Coop took off forward, pulling his arms into his chest and spinning around three and a half times before landing cleanly on his right foot, instantly digging in his left toe to squeeze out a triple Toe Loop for the combination. It was a gutsy, unrehearsed move, and the knowledgeable audience rewarded him with a round of applause.
However, as Coop took his bows and headed toward the kiss-and-cry area, the ovation noticeably diminished. There weren't the usual cheers of "Super Cooper" and cries for a perfect score. The audience knew this hadn't been his best effort. Judging by the tight grimace on Tess's face as she sat up in the parents' section, clapping fiercely as the applause died down in order to get a second round going, she knew it, too.
His marks reflected the unevenness of the program. But he was still ahead of Jeremy Hunt in the standings.
"Francis, Diana," Gil ordered over the headset, "tell the audience how outrageous it is that the Hunt kid, with his two quads, is behind Devaney and his pitiful triples."
Francis turned off his mike to speak to Gil in private. He said, "Now hold on there. Coop Devaney's other elements were clearly superior to Jeremy's. His spins, his stroking, his presentation — the Hunt boy still skates like a child. Coop is — "
"Just say it," Gil huffed. "Or else we've got the same boring show we've always got, with everybody knowing who the winner is in advance. This way, we can hype up the Long Program. Can the little brat from nowhere topple the defending champion, yadda, yadda, yadda. Come on, folks, we all know the drill."
Francis sighed, exchanged a shrug with Diana, and did as he was told.
Afterward, Bex sat through the interminable press conference where Coop did the usual, smile and aw, shucks, don’t know what happened out there, I guess I just lost focus rope-a-dope, complete with the promise to do much better in the Long Program and show the judges just what I'm capable of. Jeremy, meanwhile, looked somewhat lost in the glare of the media lights. He referred most questions to Toni and, when asked the secret to landing the quad, guilelessly said, "I just jump as high as I can, turn around really fast, and land on one foot." If he'd been even a year older or an inch taller, it would have come off as obnoxious. But for now, it was still charming.
As the press dispersed, Craig sent Jeremy and Toni off to celebrate, promising he'd be there as soon as he could, and turned to Bex.
"Now?" he asked.
"Now."
They shanghaied Coop as he was exiting the dressing room. Bex said that Gil needed him to shoot some exclusive footage for the reality show.
"Well, actually, my mom is waiting for me — "
"We'll be quick."
She led him into a side office far removed from the main action. And had Craig block the door. Coop, they'd decided earlier, wasn't getting out until they were through with him.
"What's going on?" Coop didn't know whether to go for bravado or confusion, so he settled for a mélange of the two.
Bex cut right to the chase. "Your friend Sebi killed Allison."
Confusion knocked out bravado. "What did you say?"
"Sebi strangled Allie, then hung her up to make it look like a suicide."
"Why — why would he do that?'
"That's what we'd like to know."
"And you think I know?"
"We think you can help us find out."
In as few words as possible, Bex laid out the scenario, including evidence, Sebi's inadmissible confession, and their belief that if Coop could get him to repeat it on tape, the law would be on their side. At the very least, they'd have every right to broadcast it on air, which would certainly put pressure on the police to investigate.
"Think about it, Coop," Bex urged. "You'd be a hero. The guy who solved his girlfriend's murder — even after she cheated on him. Think of how great that will be for your image. Your mom will be thrilled."
"You're sure that Sebi — "
"There's only one way to find out. Maybe he didn't do it Maybe he was just messing with me. If that's the case, then, well, he'll probably tell you, and you guys can have a good laugh about stupid, gullible Bex, and that will be the end of it. But if he did — "
"Sebi is not a bad person."
"Look, Coop. I know — I know that you care about Sebi." Bex realized she was treading on very thin ice here. She couldn't give away what she knew about Coop and Sebi's real relationship — he'd probably freak and run straight back to Mommy with the news that 24/7 was on to them, and what should they do now? On the other hand, she had to make him understand that if Sebi was a killer, he probably wasn't someone Coop should be locking lips — or any other body parts — with anyway. "But you cared about Allison, too, didn't you?'
"I loved Allie." It was Coop's story, and he was sticking to it.
"So don't you want to get to the bottom of who killed her? Don't you owe her that much?”
Craig spoke up for the first time. "Listen, man, she's never going to rest in peace until this thing is settled. You can help her."
"For Allie," Bex urged.
Coop made up his mind. "For Allie."
Afterward, Bex asked Craig, "How did you know what to say to him, to make him throw in with us?
How did you know that thing about Allie resting in peace — "
"After Rachel was killed, all I could think about was ripping out the eye sockets of the guy who did it to her. I just felt like Rachel was still there, waiting for me to do something. I'd let her down when I didn't protect her. I couldn't let her down by not seeing her killer go to trial, testifying against him. I figured it would be the same with Coop. Only he's not the ripped-out-eye-socket type. That's why I went with the kinder, gender, rest-in-peace rap. I figured he'd feel like he let her down, too."
"So you really believe that he loved her?"
"Sure. Why not? Especially if your theory about him using her as a beard is accurate. He probably wanted to love her really, really badly; it sure would make his life a lot easier if he could. And the fact is, Idan Ben-Golan said the baby was Coop's, right? So it wasn't all a lie."
"You seem very at ease with all the twists and turns this story is taking."
"You've poked around my family tree enough. Anything here that a guy like me would find out of the ordinary?"
"I see your point."
"And speaking of which — considering that you've been around for practically every dark moment of my life for the past few months — "
"Yeah. About that, Craig, I am sorry — "
"How would you like to participate in a lighter one for a change?" Craig offered her his elbow. "How about joining Jeremy, Toni, and me for our celebration?"
"Oh — I — thank you, but — isn't that a private family thing?"
"Jer wouldn't be at Nationals if it weren't for you. I think you've earned a seat at the table. Besides, I owe you a rain check for that drink."
"Well..."
"There's nothing else for you to do tonight. Coop and Sebi aren't talking until morning. Loosen up, Bex. Have some fun."
She took Craig's arm and let him lead the way.
