by Alina Adams
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Waiver or no waiver, Bex figured Sebi Vama wasn't just going to spill his guts if there was a camera around. They needed to hide it. The question was: How?
She could hardly drill a hole through the wall, Norman Bates/Porky's style, nor could she drape it with a festive cloth and hope Sebi would think it was the latest in lamp couture. In the end, it was Craig who came up with the idea of hiding it in plain sight.
"The room where 24/7 keeps their cameras."
"We store them in the tape library. What about it?"
"In a room full of cameras, who's going to expect one of them to be on?"
"You are very devious man."
"Just trying to help."
"Of course, this begs the question of how we get Coop and Sebi inside that room."
"I have faith in you, Bex. You'll think of something."
With a vote of confidence like that, she thought extra, extra hard. And what Bex came up with was that Sebi should believe he was breaking into the 24/7 tape library.
After Bex had all but written out his lines for him, then had Coop repeat them back several times until they sounded, if not natural, then at least feasible, she listened, hidden around a corner, as he told Sebi, "We've got a problem, man."
Bex hoped the high pitch of Coop's voice would be attributed to nervousness about "the problem" rather than to his overall terror. "Someone must have seen us."
"Seen us?" Sebi was sitting on a bench in the arena, poring over the scores Coop received in the Short Program, analyzing each judge's marks.
"The other night..." Coop jiggled up and down nervously.
"Impossible." Sebi waved his concerns away. "You're just being paranoid."
"It's that researcher. She keeps giving me all these cryptic hints."
"She's fishing."
"No. I think she knows."
"How could she?"
"It's the reality show my mom's got me in. They have cameras following me 24/7. What if one of them caught you and me — "
"Impossible."
"Then how does Bex know?"
"I'm telling you she doesn't."
"And I'm telling you she does. And I bet you they have video of it."
"Video..." The faintest hint of discomfort crept into Sebi's placid features.
"We can't let anybody see it. My mom will kill me!"
"Forget about your mom." Sebi closed the protocol booklet. "You're certain she has video?"
"I don't know. But how else would she — she saw you kissing me. She knows. What are we going to do?"
"Just let me think for a minute."
"This'll ruin me, you know it will. I can't let anything go wrong, especially not after the way I skated yesterday. I almost got beaten by the Hunt kid."
"I know. I saw the numbers. Way, way too close for comfort."
"The Federation is just looking for an excuse to dump me so he can be their new Golden Boy. You heard his story, right? I mean, his mom got murdered. How lucky can you get? That's the kind of stuff that puts you on the front of Wheaties boxes. Not to mention TV specials, endorsements. We've all worked too hard for this, you and me and my mom, to just let some stupid bitch researcher take it away from us."
All right. Bex hadn't written the stupid or the bitch part. But she told herself it was all for a good cause. If her hunch was right, Sebi would be chomping at the bit to be named Coop's official coach, and ride him all the way to Olympic fame and fortune. By now he had as much invested in Coop's image as Coop and Tess did.
"Video?" he repeated. "Actual footage?"
"She sure sounded that way. Kept asking me if there was anything I wanted to talk about, anything I wanted to get off my chest, if I wanted to, you know, tell my side of the story before she let viewers make up their own minds."
"Crap," Sebi said.
"What are we going to do? We can't let her get away with it."
"There's only one thing to do." Sebi stood up. "We've got to steal that tape before they decide to put it on the air."
Coop appeared to be mulling over the proposal. Then, hesitantly, he offered, "I think I know where they keep them."
As a rule, the tape and camera library was manned at all times by an intern. The contents were too valuable to leave unattended.
But Sebastian Vama didn't know that.
When he encountered the barred door, he thought it was his fine lock-picking skills that got them in, lickety-split, rather than Craig's jiggering the apparatus to unhinge at the slightest touch, then lock securely behind them. And when he found the place deserted, except for five file cabinets full of tapes and half a dozen cameras lying on their sides, Sebi thought that's how it always was, rather than that Bex had specifically told the intern to scram. All six of the cameras looked equally harmless. Except that one of them happened to be on, with a cable running under the rug, out the door, and into an adjoining room, where Craig and Bex could watch the entire proceeding on a monitor.
"So where do you think it could be?” Coop asked.
Sebi said, "They probably file stuff by date. You start with that cabinet, I'll look through this one."
They worked silently for a few minutes. Then Coop surfaced, holding a gray Beta tape in his hand. He said, "Look. It's Allie."
Sebi didn't bother turning around. "Old news."
"I still can't get over — "
"That she cheated on you? Well, get over it. DNA don't lie."
"That she's dead," Coop said softly. And, in the pure horror of his voice, Bex recognized that he wasn't acting. "Who could have done something so horrible?"
"You want my best guess?" Sebi turned around, resting an elbow casually on the filing cabinet, as if discussing the most offhand thing in the world. "Ol' Cash in the Pan. When a crone like that buys herself a sexy stud muffin, she's hardly going to get all Jesus Saves and turn the proverbial other cheek when he goes out and knocks up another bimbo."
"Don't be blasphemous."
"I'm just saying, Pandora's got the motive, and she's got the money to make it happen."
"What would she need money for?"
"What? You think Pan would string Allie up herself? Hardly. Rich people don't mow their own lawns or pump their own gas or change their own sheets. Why would they commit their own murders?"
So softly that Bex had to strain to hear, even with the volume up at maximum, Coop asked, "Did you do it, Sebi? Did you kill Allie because Pan paid you to?"
The camera Bex planted in the library was equipped with the most sensitive microphone money could buy, plus a lens big enough to encompass the whole room. What it was not equipped with was a temperature gauge. But Bex guessed that if it had been, she would have seen it drop to zero in a second.
Sebi clearly did not appreciate Coop's query.
But then again, maybe he did. Because in response, rather than getting angry, or denying, or even pleading ignorance, Sebi decided to laugh.
He chortled as he asked, "Is that it? Is that what all this was about?"
Now officially off-script, Coop didn't know what to say.
"You weren't scared about some videotape of us Frenching that doesn't even exist. You've been listening to that fucking researcher, and you thought you'd get me in a quiet spot and ask me if I knocked off your precious Allie-poo."
Coop merely nodded.
"Well, what do you think, Super Cooper? Do you think I killed Allison Adler, Her Royal Highness, Princess of the Ice?'
"I don't — I don't know why you would. Was it because of Pandora?"
"Oh, fuck Pandora." Sebastian elaborated, "Which I'm sure she would have loved for you to do before she found out about your... issues."
"So it's true?" Coop started trembling as if the temperature really had dipped to unbearable levels.
"Oh, grow up. You can be so gullible, Coop. Really it's not at all attractive."
“Tell me," Coop demanded. And, to his credit, it wasn't a whine but a command. Skating's Closeted Stud was growing a
backbone as they spoke. Quite an impressive sight to see, really.
"Figure it out for yourself. Or let Tex-Mex-Bex draw you a picture."
“Tell me!" Coop howled and, without warning, lunged at Sebi, knocking him to the ground, tapes scattering every which way.
Stunned, Sebi didn't have time to react or defend himself. Coop had him pinned flat on the ground, Coop's knees smashing Sebi's arms, his hands around Sebi's neck within seconds.
Sebi smiled lazily. "Admit it: You always knew we would end up this way."
Coop smacked Sebi across the face with an open palm. That sure wiped the smirk off.
For the first time, Sebi looked genuinely scared rather than amused.
“Tsk, tsk." The scolding prompted a trickle of blood to drip out his quickly swelling mouth. "Now what would Jesus do?”
"Leave Jesus out of this," Coop warned.
"But how can I do that, Super Cooper, when He's the one who got us into this mess in the first place?"
Bex and Craig exchanged looks. Neither one had the slightest idea what Sebi was talking about.
But Coop obviously did. "Shut up."
"Oh, do make up your mind, sweetie. Is it shut up or tell me? Rather tricky to do both, especially with your crotch in my face. Not that I'm not enjoying the view."
“Tell me what you know about Allie's death."
"Only that you and your Jesus freakiness set it in motion. You thought your mom was the only one who blew a gasket when you went all holy on us and found religion? She thought getting you away from Gary and his own craziness — "
"There is nothing crazy about being a religious Jew."
"There is when your lifestyle contains a certain sexual preference that both the Old and New Testament frown upon."
"Gary has made his peace with that. That's why I went to him for advice on how to — "
"Reconcile your new Born Again passion with your Old Again desire to screw Allie every chance you got? Oh, yes, she told me. We were partners. We shared every little thing. She told me how Tess thought that getting you away from Gary and his corruptive, religious influence would nip your little 'problem' in the bud. When that didn't work, she encouraged Allie to keep throwing herself at you as a reminder that the pleasures of the flesh outweigh a prayer breakfast, any day."
Charming, Bex thought. Coop's mother pimped out Allie. No wonder the poor girl didn't want anything to do with that family.
"Ironic, no?" Sebi mused. A tough act to pull off lying prostrate on the ground, but, to his credit, he did manage to do it with a modicum of panache. “Tess sics Allie on you, and I'm the one who suffers."
"You what?"
"Her pregnancy, you idiot. Apparently, while you still managed to screw her — "
"It was so hard. I loved her so much, and to just stop... I was weak, I know that now. I should have been stronger."
"Yeah, well, you should have used a condom, too. But hey, I hear you guys are against birth control, right? Sex for procreation only. Well, congrats, Jesus Junkie, you were a good little be-fruitful-and-multiply drone."
"What are you talking about? Allie's baby was Idan's."
"Oh, God, you are dense, aren't you? The other night, when I kissed you out of the blue. What, do you think I was suddenly overwhelmed by lust, unable to stay away from your hot little body a moment longer? Wise up. I was getting a spit sample Idan could use to match to the kid's DNA."
"So Omri is — "
"Yours. Of course he's yours. I didn't lie in court. Allie was head over heels, heels over head, crazy about you. That's why she let Tess push her around. She wanted to be with you — so not a hell of a lot of pushing required. Allie also thought you'd get over this Deity Doldrums. Until she got pregnant, that is. Then she changed her tune real fast. Suddenly, instead of just fun and games, she was looking at a lifetime as Mrs. Jesus Freak, tied down to Baby Jesus, and she didn't want any of it. That's why she ran off, that's why she didn't tell you she was pregnant, and that's why she went to Pandora and Idan to adopt your baby."
"My baby," Coop repeated. Bex couldn't tell if he was pleased or horrified.
"Yeah, your precious baby. So now Tess has proof for the media that you're a red-blooded American boy who only lives to screw — in a wholesome, All-American boy way, of course. Pan and Idan have their brat to coochie-coo over, and you're on your way to the World Championship unencumbered by diaper duty. Everyone gets their happy ending. Except for me. This was supposed to be my Worlds. My turn to be champion. I worked my entire, fucking life for it. Only to have Allie and her female troubles snatch it all away."
Coop said, "You killed her, didn't you?"
"Damn Skippy. Bitch deserved it. Wasn't anything I planned ahead for, mind you. At first I was as in the dark as anyone. Had no idea where she was or what she was up to. But then she called me. Said she was coming to the rink that morning and wanted to say good-bye. She said she owed me an explanation. You bet she did. She owed me that and a hell of a lot more. She owed me my life back. The life I lost because of her. I figured it was only poetic justice that Allie should perish at my hand in return."
For a moment, Coop didn't do anything. He didn't even appear to be breathing. And then he raised his right arm, bringing it down to smash Sebi across the face again, this time with his clenched fist.
Sebi howled, and Bex, realizing that enough was enough, sprang from her seat, heading for the tape library, Craig hot on her heels.
She flung open the door, allowing Craig to dart past and grab Coop's arm before he completely obliterated Sebi's nose.
Allie's killer looked dazed, blood no longer trickling but gushing from his mouth, one eye already starting to swell shut.
But not so dazed that he didn't understand exactly what it meant when Bex smiled down at him and politely informed, "Surprise! Sebastian Vama, you're on Candid Camera."
EPILOGUE
After Sebastian Vama's media-saturated arrest, the Men's Long Program proved to be somewhat of an anticlimax, made notable only by Coop Devaney's flawless performance, complete with three, clean quads (one in combination), and Jeremy Hunt's surprising podium finish — third place, behind Coop and Lucian Pryce's well-spun student.
At the press conference afterward, of course, the reporters wanted to talk about only one thing. The tape of Sebi's confession — and Coop's less-than-subtle method for extracting it — had been dominating the airways, well, 24/7, since Bex had breathlessly delivered it to Gil and received as a reward after screening, that rarest of the rare, highest of the high, compliments from her executive producer.
"Air it as is. Break into regular programming."
Now, in theory, Bex was a liberal arts major, well versed in the well-documented oppressiveness of the patriarchy that glorified violence as a means to any end.
In practice, she had to admit that her tape made damn exciting TV. And Coop look like an action hero.
Tess, naturally, was ambivalent. She'd flown into Gil's office after the initial airing, huffing that they'd made her sweet boy look like a Neanderthal. How were they supposed to sell him to the preteen audience, not to mention their cautious parents, if his image was now of some hot-tempered, fist-flying bully? Gil simply let Tess go on and on until she ran out of steam and demanded to know what 24/7 was going to do about this travesty. He then handed her a sheet of paper listing all the major corporations who had called, inquiring about sponsorship opportunities for Coop's upcoming reality show.
After that, Tess not only shut up, she might have even smiled at Bex on her way out of Gil's office.
"That," Gil told Bex, "is how it's done, kid."
It was the first piece of Cahill advice Bex actually expected to use someday.
The evening of the press conference, she stood in the back, Craig on one side, Tess on the other, as they all watched Coop and Idan, Lucian and his student, and Jeremy and Toni up on the platform, wincing slightly from the television lights pointed right in their faces while the assembled reporters a
ll but shouted over each other in their quest for the whole story.
"What are your feelings toward Sebi Vama, Cooper?"
"I'm angry, I'm devastated, that goes without saying. But I also feel sorry for him. A human life in exchange for a ruined skating career is an obscene justification, and anybody who believes it's warranted is clearly a person in need of serious, professional help. I hope that Sebi's arrest helps facilitate that."
"So what happens now?"
"Now?" Coop smiled. "Now we're all off to Worlds."
"About the baby. What happens now with the baby?"
Coop looked at Idan. "After a great deal of thought, and consultation with both my mother and Mr. Ralph Adler, we've all decided that the best place from my son to be is with the parents Allie chose for him. Mr. and Mrs. Ben- Golan. Omri deserves the best and, at this point in my life — and my skating career — I am just not capable of taking care of him as well as Pandora and Idan can. While it's very difficult for me to give up my child, I have to do what is best for him. I owe Allie as much."
It was a moving speech — as the one about Sebi had been. Though Bex might have been a bit more impressed if she hadn't already read both in the note-cards Tess prepared before the conference and run by Gil, to see how he thought they would play.
However, Coop obviously decided to improvise, as he added, "One of the new friends I've made at this competition, and now, one of my new World teammates, Jeremy Hunt, told me how great it is to have parents who you know wanted you so much that they were willing to go through hell to protect you. Jeremy's the one who convinced me that, in the end, the best thing you can do for a kid you really love but can't take care of is to let them be adopted by somebody who can."
Next to her, Craig was squirming with embarrassment. And also beaming with pride at the same time.
On Bex's other side, Tess was musing, "Okay. Okay, that's not bad. Shows that Coop's been mentoring an up-and-coming skater. That's good. We can work with that."
At the conclusion of the conference, as Coop and Jeremy posed for pictures, Bex and Craig remained at the back of the room, completely ignored by all the other agendas swirling about.
