Love Inspired Suspense January 2014 (60 page)

NINETEEN

S
ome part of Max's subconscious told him to open his eyes and get up, but the pain in his midsection demanded he stay curled in a ball, squeezing air in and out of his lungs. It hurt to breathe, pained him to think and he got the sense he had passed out. It came back in a rush.

Laney. Ancho's here and he's going after Laney.
The thought finally penetrated his fog and he forced himself to his knees, blinking against the spinning of the room. Levering himself upright using the table leg for support, he made it to his feet, stopping when a wave of dizziness nearly took him down. Staggering up the stairs, he tried to call her name, which came out as a gasp. He took the stairs as fast as he could manage until he burst, stumbling, into the bedroom.

“Laney,” he grunted.

He was about to turn around and head back down the stairs when he heard a clang from outside the window. His stomach dropped. Thrusting his head through, he found her, clinging to a gutter of some sort that was about to detach from the wall.

In spite of the pain in his ribs, he shot out a hand, which she grabbed.

At that moment the metal twisted away from the building, carrying Laney with it, except for the anchor of their clasped hands.

She cried out in terror, eyes wide, mouth open.

He clung to her with all his strength, but her dead weight and the unfriendly angle made her hard to hold on to.

He grabbed her wrist with the other hand, trying to brace his legs against the wall but it would not hold, not for long. He had to pull her in but he could not manage the thing.

“Laney,” he gasped.
Laney, don't leave me.
He felt her wrist begin to slip out of his grasp. “No,” he grated, tightening his grip using some deep reserve of strength.

It was not enough. He heard her sharp intake of breath as she realized she was going to fall.
No, no. He could not let the most precious thing in his life slip away.

And then there was a shout from below, a scraping sound and he saw the ladder being hoisted up against the wall. Just in time, Laney's feet found purchase on the metal rungs and there was a blessed release as he let go of her and watched her climb down the ladder to safety.

His body sagged in the window frame and all he could manage was to breathe in the cold air, to thank God Almighty for saving Laney from that fall. Exhausted, he let the pain carry him back to the floor, where he leaned there, panting.

Feet thundered up the steps and Laney burst in, running full tilt until she slid to her knees and reached for him, stopping before her hands actually touched his face.

“How badly are you hurt?” she said, expression torn with agony.

“Shouldn't I be asking you that?” he said.

The response must have reassured her because she pressed his face to hers, her lips brushing his cheek, then pressed to his mouth. “I thought he killed you.”

Her pulse jumped so hard in her throat he could feel it thrumming, and he let himself fall into the comfort of that steady beating. Laney was all right. Unharmed. The pain in his own body seemed inconsequential. He'd been given the strength to hang on until help arrived and he knew it was not just his own strength that sustained them. An odd feeling of peace rang through his soul. He let her gently smooth her fingers over his arms and legs.

“Nothing broken?”

“Not unless it's a couple of ribs. I took a bat to the middle.”

She gasped and her eyes filled. “Oh, Max. I'm so sorry about all of this. We'll get you to the hospital. You might have a punctured lung or something.”

“Later, Laney. Who moved the ladder?” he managed as he arduously got to his feet with her help.

“That would be me,” Tanya said from the doorway. “I came to see Mr. Peterson and, boy, was I surprised to see Laney hanging from the side of the house.”

“I was surprised to find myself there, believe me,” Laney said with a wobbly chuckle. She helped Max to a chair. “Ancho confirmed it. He's afraid I'll remember who was driving the car that night. That's why he's trying to get me out of competition. The longer I'm in, the better my chance of remembering.”

Tanya's face blanched. “This is about what happened back then? That hit-and-run.”

“I think so,” Laney said. “If I could just remember who was in the driver's seat, this whole thing would be over.”

Max's reasoning skills seemed to be returning. “Tanya, what did you want to tell Peterson? Why did you come here?”

“And how?” Laney added. “You don't have a car.”

“I hitchhiked.”

Both Laney and Max fired disapproving looks at her.

She fisted her hands on her hips. “Yeah, I know. Dangerous, but at least people aren't hitting me with bats and dropping me out of windows.” She flopped on the bed. “After the accident, Mr. Peterson came to ask me questions, said he was a reporter and what did I know about a white car and who might have been driving it. I told him I had no idea. We were pretty focused on making the team at that point, and massively disappointed when we didn't. Anyway, I didn't think much about it until he showed up at the arena to talk to you a few days ago. Again he gave me his card and said if I had remembered any pertinent details to let him know.”

“And did you remember something important?” Laney said, sitting next to her on the brown coverlet.

“I'm not sure.” Tanya twisted at a thin silver band on her pinky. “I don't want to get anyone in trouble.”

Max sat as straight as he could manage. “We're not trying to cause trouble, and we won't spread around unfounded accusations.”

Tanya didn't answer.

“Tanya,” he said softly. “Laney could have been badly hurt, and she's already been knocked out of the trials one time. Don't you think she deserves a little help if you can give it?”

Tanya sighed. “You're the nicest person on our team, Laney. And you've been sweet to me even though I haven't gone out of my way to be your friend. Anyway,” she continued, fingers plucking at the blanket, “when I saw that you had my sharpening kit, the whole thing came back to me. After the trials, I was on my way home and I realized I'd left my kit in the locker room. I called Beth and asked her to get it for me.” She frowned. “She didn't sound right.”

“What do you mean?”

“She was distant, I guess. Slow. Not her usual sassy self. I figured it was because she hadn't qualified and everyone had been so sure she would. Even her mother believed she was going to make it. Beth was expecting a big gift or something. Anyway, I thought that's why she was acting funny.”

“Did she agree to get the kit?” Max pressed.

“Yeah. She said she'd grab it before she left, but when I talked to her a couple of days later, she said she'd forgotten to go back to the locker room. I called the arena, but they'd hadn't found it there, either.” Tanya frowned. “I got mad because Beth was so cavalier about it. She's got plenty of her mother's money to throw around, but that kit was a gift from my grandmother and it's not like she can round up the cash to buy another one at the drop of a hat.”

“So you came to tell Peterson because you heard we'd found it in an abandoned white car.”

She nodded. “Yes, but I was going to tell him that it wasn't anything to do with Beth. I'm sure she wasn't the driver. She drives a green Miata and she didn't even have it there at the trials. Besides, she'd never want to hurt you, Laney. She's snotty and spoiled, but inside she's a good person.”

“But someone does want to hurt me. It wasn't Ancho who bent my skate.”

Tanya looked away.

“Tanya,” Max said quietly. “Do you have some idea who tampered with Laney's skates?”

“I thought I saw...” She stood. “No. No, I don't. I just wanted to tell Mr. Peterson about the kit because maybe it might help find out who hit you, but that's all I know. It wasn't Beth, so maybe someone else took my kit, some stranger who was watching the races. This man who just tried to shove you out the window, maybe.”

“Maybe,” Laney said. “But Peterson seems to think Ancho is covering for someone else, and I have this sense it was a woman driving the car that night. Are you sure you don't know who messed with my blade?”

Tanya's lips thinned into a firm line. “I've said all I'm going to.”

Laney's phone buzzed and she snatched it up. “It's a text from Peterson. ‘Had to get out fast. Contact you soon. H.P.'” She blew out a breath. “Thank goodness. I thought Ancho might have killed him or something.”

“Wish we had gotten that text earlier,” Max said with a groan. “It would have saved us all some pain.”

“Should we call the police?” Laney said.

“It would be the right thing to do,” Max said.

“But Chen already doesn't believe us, and we let ourselves into Peterson's house,” Laney said.

Anger flashed in his gut. “Ancho should not get away with attacking either one of us.”

“I know,” Laney said, eyes shifting in thought. “But I think we should wait until we hear from Peterson. Maybe he has something the police will believe.”

Max wasn't at all sure it was the right decision, but the searing pain in his ribs made it hard to argue. Each breath was a small agony. With some effort he closed the window, and they did the same for the sliding door as they left.

Tanya, he noticed, avoided eye contact as they drove. She knew something about who tampered with the blade, and her reluctance to speak confirmed for him that it was a person deeply connected with the team.

Maybe even Tanya herself.

* * *

Laney insisted Max have an X-ray at the hospital after they dropped Tanya back at the dorms. While he grudgingly allowed a nurse to lead him away, she went to see Jen and found there had been some improvement in her father's vital signs, the only high note in a disastrous evening. She gave Jen a gentle version of the night's events that did not include her hanging from a windowsill.

“This is getting dangerous,” Jen said. “You've got to go to the police.”

“As soon as we hear from Peterson,” Laney said as she took her post beside the bed. “I want you to go sleep in my room at the athlete dorms tonight.”

“Isn't that against the rules?”

“No one will mind for one night. We can get you a hotel tomorrow. Cubby needs the company. He likes a little warm milk before bed.”

“Okay, I'll stay there only until morning to provide room service for Cubby. Your training starts at seven, right?” her sister inquired. “I'm sure Max will bring me here when he picks you up.”

“Yes, I will,” said Max from the doorway. “If that's what Laney wants.”

Laney's heart ached at the sight of him, standing slightly hunched against the pain in his ribs, a bruise on his cheek, the magnificent blue eyes dulled by the hospital lighting. She didn't want to disappoint him, and she didn't want to have him walk out of her life, but her decision whether or not to continue could not be about Max Blanco. That was a choice between Laney and God.

“I'll pray on it, and by the morning I'll let you know.” She came close. “Anything broken?”

“Two cracked ribs. They taped me up.”

“Can they do anything for the pain?”

He gave her a roguish smile. “Pain? What pain?”

“Oh, boy. You're starting to sound like the old Blaze Blanco.” She bit her lip, wondering if she had hurt him with the remark.

He reached out a hand and stroked her hair. “I think I'm better than Blaze Blanco. He was too interested in winning to notice what he was losing.”

She hugged him very gently, a storm of emotions rolling through her. “Thank you for not letting me fall.”

A sigh ruffled her hair. “That's my job.”

His job. She felt him step away, and her arms mourned the loss. “If you train tomorrow, that will give you two more working days until the trials and a day to rest. You can still make it happen. I'll wait to hear from you.”

Why did her heart feel as if it were being tugged and twisted in her chest? Everything that had been so certain only days before was now shrouded in confusion. “Yes,” she managed.

“Try to get some sleep,” her sister said, kissing her cheek.

“I will,” Laney said, watching until they disappeared into the dark corridor.

She circled back to her father's bedside and smoothed his sheets before settling into the chair. Chin resting on the bed rail, she began to talk to her father, to tell him everything that had happened, all the fears, hopes and terrors that raced around inside her faster than any skater could lap the track.

But she could not say the one fear that plucked at her deepest core, the fear that Max Blanco had become much more to her than just a trainer, and soon, race or not, he would walk out of her life. That fear she gave to God, closing her eyes and pouring out all that she was and all that she wanted to be before Him.

TWENTY

T
he pain in his ribs forced Max out of bed long before the sun rose. He eased his body into the shower and then into workout clothes, propelling himself into the cold. He hoped it would numb the discomfort. It didn't.

As he limped through a slow walk, thoughts churned in frothy confusion through his mind. If Peterson didn't come through soon, they would go to the police regardless, and Laney would likely leave the team if Ancho decided to sue them for slander. He desperately did not want her to lose her shot that way, to have it taken from her like his had been. He knew she'd be fine; she was strong and she knew who she was made to be.

Who God made her to be.

The phrase tantalized him. What if all this time that he'd been mourning the loss of his brother, his career, God had been using his pain to turn him into the man he was meant to be?

But who was that?

He wasn't sure, but just thinking about it warmed a spot of hope in his heart that he had not felt in a very long time. He would not indulge thoughts of the future now, though. His focus had to be on Laney, keeping her safe, helping her win if that was what she wanted and then letting her go. The thought made his heart break a little, and he knew he'd let himself skate dangerously close to loving Laney Thompson. Too close.

Four laps around of brisk walking and he had to stop, hands pressed to his side. Jen found him there. He looked at her. She was bundled up as if she was expecting a blizzard.

“Heard from Laney?” she said.

“No. You?”

She shook her head. “She's not a quitter, Max.”

“I know, but she loves you and her father more than racing.” His stomach was tight as he walked her to the truck. He noticed Jen had a set of books tucked under one arm. “Getting some studying in?”

“Trying to prep for the next semester classes. Genetics two. I nearly crumbled in genetics one.”

“You put much stock in it? Genetics, I mean?”

“Some. Things we get from our birth parents—eye color, hair color, stature.” She laughed. “Even certain types of sneezing.”

“Now you're pulling my leg.”

“Honest. The Achoo Syndrome. Uncontrollable sneezing when exposed to sudden changes in light.”

He laughed heartily. “And they call this science.” He wiped his eyes. “I've always believed you could make your body into what you wanted it to be. That's my job, I guess. It was a blow to my pride when I found I couldn't make it happen no matter how hard I tried.”

“Yeah, that's the frustrating part.” She nodded. “You get a certain stack of ingredients and that's genetics, your gifts from God, so to speak. How you stir them all together and use them is your gift to Him.”

He opened the truck door for her. “How did you and your sister get so smart, I wonder?”

“Dunno, but my sister is definitely one of those gifts from God.”

Memories of Robby stirred in his soul just then. Popsicles dripping in sticky hands on a summer evening. A fishing trip where he'd shown his brother how to bait a hook. Even though they'd only caught a sodden glove, it was the best fishing trip he'd ever taken.

He realized he was staring into space.

“You okay?” she asked quietly.

“Yes,” he said. “I was just thinking about my brother.”

“Laney told me he died when he was small. I'm sorry.”

“Me, too,” Max said.

“He was a gift from God,” she said, her voice almost a whisper.

“Yes, he was.”

They arrived at the hospital where Max was surprised to find Stan and Jackie standing awkwardly in Dan's room. No sign of Laney.

“We thought we'd come and give our good wishes,” Stan said. “The nurse gave us special permission to come in before visiting hours.”

Jackie shrugged, sliding a plant covered with coral blooms onto the shelf next to the heart monitor. “He hasn't woken up.”

They made small talk for a few minutes until Stan checked his watch. “We'd better go. We have to prep for training today. Ice time in less than an hour.” He shot Max a questioning look.

“I have to talk to Laney,” Max said. “I don't know what she wants to do.”

“She has to decide,” Jackie said. “One hundred percent.”

Max stiffened. “I'm aware of that.”

Laney appeared in the doorway, her hair in disarray and eyes smudged with fatigue, but something shone in her face, wild and strong, which made his pulse accelerate.

“What's going on, Laney?”

“I remembered.”

He stared. “Remembered?”

“Something about the accident.” She strode farther into the room. “There were two people in that white car.”

Jen gasped. “Two? Can you remember their faces?”

“Not yet, but I will,” she snapped. “I always imagined it was one driver, someone drunk or really young who panicked and left us there, but there were two people. One could have gone for help. They no doubt talked about what to do and...”

“And they left us,” Max said, a slow burn starting in his gut that matched the kindling in her eyes.

“Yes, they did. And one more thing about the white car.”

He held his breath and waited.

“There was something funny about the plates.”

“Out of state?” Jen suggested.

“I don't know. It will come to me, but they weren't regular Utah plates.”

Max wanted to catch her up in a big hug. “Good girl. That's enough to take to the police. Maybe it will help.”

“Not yet.”

“Why not?” Jackie said.

“Because we'll be late for training.”

Max felt his spirit swell. “You ready to give it a try?”

“No,” she said, gaze steady and calm but filled with steel. “I'm ready to win.”

* * *

Laney attacked her workout with such vigor, the other girls gaped.

“What did you have for breakfast?” Tanya asked as they finished their sprints on the track.

“Nothing unusual.” She dropped her voice so the other girls would not hear. “Did you give any more thought to who tampered with my skate?”

Tanya bent over, presumably to catch her breath. “No.”

“I'm starting to remember things about the accident. I'm going to find out who crashed into us and left us there.”

Tanya stopped. Her cheeks were so flushed it nearly concealed her spangle of freckles. “I hope you do, and I hope you can prove it.”

Laney watched her walk away. Would her resurfacing memories be enough to prove anything? She noticed a man at the far end of the track wearing sunglasses and a pulled-down cap. Ancho? Her stomach clenched until she realized it was Hugh Peterson slouched at the edge of the track, hands shoved into his pockets.

She walked slowly over, and Max joined her. He hadn't taken his eyes off her the entire morning.

“We got attacked at your house,” Max said, by way of greeting.

“No one told you to go in,” Peterson said. “Saw Ancho's car come up the drive. I grabbed my papers and had time to get upstairs before he picked the lock and got in. I climbed out the window. You must have come along just after that.”

“Unfortunately,” Laney said. “What did you find out?”

“Someone we know and love happens to drive an Aston Martin.”

“Who?”

“Me,” Diane Morrison interjected, causing Laney to jump. None of them had noticed that she'd come up behind them. Beth stood next to her, hands folded across her chest.

Peterson flinched. “Yes, you, Mrs. Morrison. And you were also in town two weeks ago, and during that stay you visited Trevor Ancho.”

Diane stared at them, eyes sparking. “Of course I did. We've been friends for a long time.”

Beth nodded. “True. They went to college together, didn't you, Mom?”

“Sure. And the answer to your next question is Salt Lake City. That's where the Aston is. After I left here I drove it home and no, Trevor did not drive it anywhere because nobody operates that car except me.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Laney noticed a security guard approaching with Jackie following close beside.

“So it's my turn now,” Diane said, noting the guard's approach. “Before you get tossed out of here for sneaking into a closed practice. What gives you the right to pry into my life? Are you accusing me of something?”

“Could be,” he said.

She broke into a hard smile. “Excellent, because as my daughter and my three ex-husbands will tell you, there's nothing I like more than a fight. If you are leveling an accusation, you'd better be absolutely sure about it because I have lawyers that will eat you for lunch, and I will watch every moment with complete enjoyment. Now, is there something else you wanted to know?”

“Just one more thing,” Peterson said quietly. “This question is for Beth.”

“Leave her out of it,” Diane snapped.

“Sir,” the guard said, reaching the bottom of the steps. “You don't have authorization to be in the arena right now.”

Peterson leaned close. “What did Mommy give you for your sixteenth birthday?”

Beth's mouth opened then closed.

“I'm going to have to escort you out, sir.” The guard took hold of Peterson's arm. As he was led away, his gaze remained fixed on Beth.

She stared back, mouth open, cheeks flushed.

Diane took her wrist. “He's a crackpot, kiddo. Put him out of your mind. Go suit up for ice work. Isn't that what's next, Jackie?”

Jackie nodded and ushered Beth back toward the locker rooms.

Diane glared at Max and Laney. “If Peterson's private-eye shtick is some ploy of yours to distract Beth from her training, it's not going to work.”

Laney stiffened. “As Beth told me, there are ten spots on that team, and on race day they can belong to any one of us.”

“To be perfectly honest, I don't care who wins or loses except that Beth is going to be one of the winners and no accusations or muckraking is going to change that.” Diane lowered her voice. “I will bury anybody who gets in her way.”

“Is that a threat, Diane?” A muscle in Max's jaw throbbed. “Like maybe you cooked up a plan with Ancho to scare Laney into quitting?”

“I don't have to beat Laney outside the rink, Max, because Beth will take care of that on the ice.”

“We'll see,” he said.

“Yes,” she murmured, a confident smile on her lips. “We will.”

* * *

Ice drills dragged for the first time in Max's experience. Normally he relished each and every moment, and the practice was finished long before he'd like it to be. Now he couldn't wait to get Laney through her practice so they could go somewhere safe and contact Peterson again. Finally she emerged from the changing room, hair wet from the shower.

“Tired?”

“Ready to drop,” she affirmed. “Let's sit a minute.”

After collapsing on a bench outside the arena, she called the hospital and was given an update. She put it on speakerphone so Max could hear. No change, and Jen had secured a hotel room five minutes from the hospital and rented a car. “I'm going to get a couple of hours of sleep before I shower and come back.”

“It's my turn to spend the night,” Laney started.

“In my medical opinion, people who train hard all day need to have a minimum of six hours in their beds, not sprawled on a hospital chair.”

“I concur,” Max put in.

Laney sighed. “Okay, but I'm going to come visit before lights out if I can force my body to stay awake.”

“How'd training go?”

Laney shot a look at Max. “Interesting. We may have gotten some further helpful information from Peterson.” She promised to keep her sister apprised and clicked off.

Max was staring at the mountains, which were painted in deep purple by the waning sun. “So Peterson figured out a connection between Diane and Ancho. Let's say she's lying and she convinced Ancho to loan money to Dan and put the muscle on him. She let Ancho borrow the Aston Martin for some reason. He goes nuts and sticks you in the trunk, then hides the car away so you can't pin it on him. It still doesn't prove she was involved in the accident four years ago.”

“She wasn't even in town during the trials, that I'm aware of, but maybe she hired Ancho to cover up for the driver.”

Max knew she didn't want to say it aloud so he did it for her. “Beth.”

Laney shook her head. “No, it couldn't be true. Beth would not leave me there.”

“She was young. She panicked. Called her mom, who arranged for Ancho to make the white car disappear.”

“Oh, no,” Laney said. “That's what Peterson was getting at. Tanya told me that Diane had planned a big present to celebrate Beth's birthday. You don't suppose she bought her...”

“A white car.”

“Oh, Max,” Laney said, tears gathering in her eyes. “That's what I remembered. The strange plates. They were the kind they put on new cars until you get the real ones.”

He took her hand. “I'll call Officer Chen,” Max said. He expected an argument from Laney, but he didn't get one.

“I can't believe it's true,” she whispered. “How could Beth leave us there?”

“Because her mom told her to,” he said, squeezing her fingers.

He listened a moment, then left a message on Chen's voicemail about an urgent matter that needed a return call.

“Come on. You need to eat something, and then I'll take you to see your dad.”

She stood and the tears let loose. He gathered her into his arms and rocked her back and forth, pressing a brief kiss to her mouth, wishing he could funnel all the tenderness that swirled inside him into her aching heart. “I'm sorry, Laney, but it's time for the truth to come out.”

She returned the kiss tentatively, then with a sense of need that took his breath away. Warm cascades of tenderness that he had never felt for any other woman flooded his body, mind and soul. Finally she pressed her face to his chest as if she could keep the world away for one more moment. Then she straightened, wiped her face and put on the expression he'd seen so many times.