Figure Skating Mystery Series: 5 Books in 1

by Alina Adams

  Francis and Diana exchanged glances. Then nodded in unison.

  She stepped in the middle of the treadmills so that both could read her lips in case they had trouble making out what she was saying over the metallic noise. Bex said, "You two have known Pandora Westby for a long time, right?"

  Nods in the affirmative.

  "And she's sponsored a lot of skaters in that time, mostly boys, right?"

  More nods, though these also came with more cryptic exchanged looks.

  "You don't approve?" Bex asked.

  Francis shrugged. Diana shook her head no.

  Okay, this was interesting.

  "Is it because the rumors are true? Pandora's boys are... kept?' Bex couldn't really think of a more tactful word. And she'd heard a lot worse when it came to Cash of the Pan and her harem. People snickered about how Pandora didn't just pay for skating lessons. She bought some of her favorite protégées top-of-the-line wardrobes — "It's so they look good for the draw parties," Pandora explained. "Appearance is so important, after all." Cars — "My boys need to get to the rink somehow." And even put some up in her home long after their competitive careers ended — "Poor fellow. Skating was all he knew. He just needs a little time to get his life together and figure out what to do next. I can't very well throw him to the wolves, now, can I?” When Pandora wed Idan, speculation ran rowdy as to whether he merely refused to put out for all the standard enticements and needed a bigger incentive than the others, or if he was simply so good Pan couldn't risk his getting away.

  This time, in response to Bex's question, it was Diana who shrugged and Francis who nodded. He then wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, should Bex not understand the implications of her own question.

  "So Pandora is pretty used to buying anything she wants."

  Nod. Nod.

  "And if one of her... purchases... betrayed her, what would her reaction be? Do you think Pandora is capable of killing Allison over her affair with Idan?"

  Shrug.

  Double shrug.

  "What about Idan? Could he have killed Allie? Either to get Omri away from her, or to keep her quiet about something, or — "

  Francis cut her off. Not with a nod, but with a quick release of the treadmill's bar and a disturbingly accurate miming of a rifle being fired. A reminder that Idan Ben-Golan was once a professional sniper. If he did kill Allison, odds are she wouldn't be his first casualty.

  "And Coop," Bex asked. "Could he have killed Allie? You know him better than I do. Does he have a temper? When I spoke to him and his mother yesterday" — Diana rolled her eyes at the word "mother" — "he seemed to have somewhat of a temper. My theory is, either he killed Allie because he found out she cheated on him with Idan, or because he didn't want her to tell anyone that they'd had a baby. Everyone keeps saying how important image is to Coop and his mom. They're making the best of it now, but maybe he didn't want word getting out that a clean-cut guy like him could dump his pregnant girlfriend."

  Diana raised her arm, palm up, indicating she had no insight on that one. Francis, however, shook his head vehemently.

  "You don't think Coop killed Allison?"

  Francis shook his head no. And then he mimed rocking a baby.

  It took Bex a minute to figure out what he meant. At first she assumed Francis was trying to tell her that Coop wouldn't kill Allie over Omri's existence. But when he shook his head in disgust at her conjecture, Bex finally got it.

  "You don't think the baby is Coop's!"

  Francis nodded so hard he almost lost his stride and had to grip the bar to regain his balance.

  "Why not?"

  It wasn't a yes-or-no question, and they both realized it. But obviously, Francis's need to share gossip overruled even the desire for a healthy heart and lungs. He smacked the "pause" button and, as the treadmill ground to a stop, managed to breathlessly croak out, "That's just not what our boy is about these days," before restarting the machine and refusing to elaborate further.

  When Bex looked to Diana for confirmation, the older woman feigned great interest in her heart rate and refused to meet Bex's eyes.

  Bex was on to something. Bex didn't just feel it, she also knew it now. There was something no one was telling her about Cooper Devaney. Well, not out loud, anyway. They were perfectly happy to drop cryptic hints and giggle at her cluelessness.

  Gil had to know. He may have been a screaming nut who'd once gotten fired for putting an entire television network into black for ten seconds (Bex still hadn't found the time to fully process and enjoy that tidbit), but he wasn't dimwitted. He wouldn't have agreed to produce Coop's reality show without fully investigating the boy.

  "Of course not," Gil said, agreeing with Bex's assessment. "I know what they're talking about. Coop's mother told me all about it. She knew I wouldn't agree to do the show if Coop was open about his... lifestyle choice. But she assured me he'd be keeping it to himself as long as the cameras were rolling. The rest of the time, frankly, I don't give a flying fuck what he does. As long as the press doesn't get whiff of it, naturally."

  "How do you expect to keep a secret like that Gil?"

  "Pretty easily." He grinned. "I mean, you're the press. And notice how I'm not telling you..."

  Bex fumed for the rest of the day. She expended so much energy on the project, she was amazed the ice at the practice arena didn't start melting any time she looked in its direction.

  For five hours, Bex sat in the stands, took notes on the practices, wrote up her observations, and continued to fume.

  What the hell did Gil think he was doing?

  Well, obviously, she knew what he thought he was doing. He was protecting the cash that had been sunk into Coop Devaney's reality show, by protecting the truth about Coop Devaney. The gist of which was getting more and more obvious by the moment to anyone paying attention.

  According to Gil, Coop's status had no bearing on Allison's murder. Which Bex found impossible to believe on a swarm of levels. As far as she knew, Omri's paternity, not to mention custody, had yet to be settled. In fact, the Family Court of Los Angeles was holding an emergency hearing the following day to decide whether the boy would be allowed to remain with Idan, or handed over to either Coop or Ralph. All of the parties, including character witnesses for both sides, intended to testify. And a 24/7 camera crew would be there to record every sensational, salacious word. For the reality show. Not for the Nationals broadcast. When Bex asked Gil why she hadn't been invited to cover it as well, he informed her that he wanted the footage to be exclusive, and besides, none of it had to do with Allison's murder. Bex should really be focusing her attention on that.

  So she continued to fume. And made plans to show up anyway. With luck, the camera guys wouldn't know she'd been banned.

  As the last practice session scraped to a close, Bex tidied up her notes, stood, stretched, stomped her feet to restore circulation, and finally allowed herself to remember the appointment that, all day, she'd been telling herself was the least important of the lot. Despite the fact that it was the only one she was actually looking forward to.

  She had to see Craig, to tell him what she'd learned about Pandora. Because he'd asked her to. No other reason than that.

  Bex thought maybe they could make an evening out of it — she was done with the practices and interviews. She had nothing much to do except write the summary, and Bex could do that any old time, even late at night if she needed to. If Craig was bored again, maybe they could grab dinner. With Jeremy, of course. The three of them could eat at the hotel or they could go out and just hang. Hanging was good. Just a trio of friends killing time in a strange city. Nothing more than that

  When Jeremy opened the door to his hotel room, Bex was so enthused about her plan that she nearly blurted it out without so much as a peremptory hello. All she had to offer instead was an admittedly goofy smile of anticipation. A smile that remained on her visage even after Jeremy, half his face obscured by the door he refused to open all the way, growled, "
What the hell do you want?"

  The greeting was so unexpected and, frankly, so out of character for the otherwise sunny kid that Bex's first thought was that it was some sort of joke.

  But when her idea of a witty retort, "Love, love, and Puppy Chow" (it was a TV commercial from a decade earlier that asked what all dogs want), was greeted by a snort and a "Jesus, you're nuts," Bex realized that this wasn't a game of Simulated Surly Teen. This was the real deal. Apparently developed over the past twenty-four hours.

  "It's her," Jeremy snapped over his shoulder in response to Craig asking who was at the door. Bex didn't know whether to be insulted that she no longer had a name, or to feel honored that she was such an important woman in their lives that a mere pronoun was ample identification.

  "Bex, hey." Craig scurried to the door, shooing Jeremy deeper inside their room but making no effort to open the door farther.

  "Hi." Bex, who'd come skipping in with what she believed was a solid idea of how their first few minutes of conversation might go, felt like she was being blown backward by a huge wind machine and could hardly remain upright, much less pry her words out and in the right direction. "What's going — "

  Craig shook his head and, when he spoke, it was in a whisper. "Look, Bex, this isn't a good time. I can't explain right now, but I think you — and I — we made a mistake. Things are not good right now. Let's talk later, okay?"

  And he shut the door, if not in her face, then at least in that general direction.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  "Men just don't make any sense, do they?" Lian Reilly wailed. She stood in the bathroom of her hotel suite, waving a puffing steam iron in the vague direction of a teal competition dress, but mostly just lacerating the air with it for emphasis.

  "No," Bex agreed, without a trace of condescension or irony. On any other day, squirming pinned between someone else's toilet and sink while dandelions of hot steam matted not only her bangs but even her eyelashes to her cheeks while listening to Lian rant about the latest universal plot against her, was cause for a postmodern chuckle. But as of today, Bex was down with her sister-woman.

  "I thought I didn't have to worry about Coop. I mean, I'd heard he and Allison were dating and, before I knew better, I thought the same thing everybody else did. But once I got to know Coop, I found out we all got it wrong."

  "What was all wrong?"

  "What people said about him. I mean, about him and Allison. Turned out it was the exact opposite."

  "You've lost me," Bex said.

  Lian sighed. It made the edges of her newly funkified hair twitch, as if they'd just realized they were on the wrong head. "We all thought Coop and Allie had this really hot and heavy thing going on. They certainly acted like they did. We used to joke that they were going for the first ever side-by-side triple Lip Lock, considering how much time they spent globbed onto each other. That's why, when Coop first asked me to go out, I was kind of nervous. Well, really, really nervous, actually. I'm not... Allie was... I'm not like Allie, you know what I mean?"

  Bex knew exactly what she meant. "And you thought it would bother Coop?"

  "Yeah. I figured, a guy like him... and he's older, too. He's going to want to... you know."

  "But he didn't?"

  "No. He didn't."

  "Not at all?"

  "Uh-uh. To be honest, after a couple of dates where he didn't, I started worrying that it was me. That he didn't like me. Stupid, huh? I mean, first I stress that he'll want to, and then I stress when he doesn't. Men can really mess with your mind, can't they?"

  "Yes," Bex said. "They can."

  "But that was before Coop explained it to me."

  "Explained what?"

  "About how he's... he's not like other guys his age."

  "He told you, then?"

  "But there's nothing wrong with it. Even if his mother wishes Coop would keep it a secret. That's the part I felt worst about. Having to keep it a secret."

  "Coop's mother knows?"

  "Oh, yeah. As soon as Coop figured out what he was really into, he went straight to his mom. He figured she'd be understanding. I mean, she's Ms. Super Liberal, right? Like, when Coop and I first started dating, she practically tripped over herself telling me how interesting she thought the history of China was and what a great culture we have and how she'd love to learn more about it. Bex, I haven't been to China since I was six months old. But Tess just went on and on about it. She's all about multiculturalism and being open-minded and tolerant."

  "Except when it came to Coop and his lifestyle choices."

  "She said it wasn't that. She said if he wanted to go ahead and experiment it was okay with her. He was young, that's when you're supposed to try out different things and figure out where you belong. She said her hesitation had to do with what if a couple of months down the road Coop changes his mind. If he told everybody now, the damage would already be done. His public image would be ruined. Tess said she didn't want Coop doing anything foolhardy until he was certain this was what he really wanted. Of course, when Coop actually tried to decide if this was what he really wanted by talking to people who were the same as him, you know, like Gary Gold, my coach? Tess really pulled the plug on that one ASAP."

  "That's why Tess had Coop change coaches from Gary to Idan?"

  "Yeah... and that's when he started dating Allie, too. Or at least we thought they were dating."

  "You don't think Coop and Allie were sexually involved?" Bex had gotten tired of euphemisms. Besides, how exactly did you phrase, "You don't think Coop and Allie were... you know-ing?"

  "It's just hard to imagine. With everything I know now, I mean. When I first heard Coop say he was the baby's dad, I kind of lost it. I thought Coop had been lying to me. But I've had some time to think about it." Lian flicked off the steam iron and turned to face Bex. "Want to hear what I think really happened there?"

  "Absolutely."

  "I think, after Tess made Coop switch from Gary to Idan, Coop didn't want his mom on his back anymore. So he pretended to be dating Allison. Meanwhile, Allison was having this secret thing with Idan, and they didn't want Pandora to know. Because that would be seriously scary. So Coop pretended to be dating Allie to keep his mom off the scent, and Allie pretended to be dating Coop to keep Pan in the dark."

  Penalty for overusing clichés aside, Bex thought Lian had an excellent theory.

  "Then, after Allie got pregnant, maybe Coop didn't want to play along anymore, or Allie just figured they should tell Pandora the truth — it's not like she could ruin Allie's career now, right? Allie took care of that all by herself — and so she took off."

  "But why is Coop claiming to be Omri's dad now, if you're sure he couldn't be?"

  "His mom. It's got to be his mom. I mean, how many pieces did 24/7 do about Allie and Coop and what a golden couple they are? How's it going to make Coop look if everyone finds out his girlfriend was cheating on him with his coach and he didn't know anything about it? It's going to make Coop look major stupid."

  Lian had another great point. If 24/7 was pitching Coop as a heartthrob, cuckold was not an image they needed plastered across his forehead.

  "And one more thing," Lian said.

  "What's that?"

  "For Coop to say in public that he's not the baby's father, he'd have to say why he knows that for sure. And no way would Tess let him do that."

  "Lian" — Bex phrased the question as tactfully as she could, especially since this question was just a preamble toward what she really wanted to ask — "do you think Tess could have killed Allie, to keep her from saying why Coop couldn't be Omri's father?"

  Lian looked horrified by the thought. But she didn't say no.

  Emboldened, Bex pressed about as far as she dared to go for now. "What about Coop, Lian? Could he have kill — "

  "No! No, absolutely not, no way! You're totally missing my point. I keep telling you, Coop isn't like everybody else. He's a really, really good person. He tries hard to always do the right thing and
make everybody happy and not let anyone down. He could never hurt anyone, especially not Allie."

  Bex nodded thoughtfully, and, realizing she had reached the end of Lian's value — plus the room had gotten so moist it was like Florida and San Francisco had mated — Bex wedged her thighs out from between the toilet and the sink. But before she left, she did have one more question for Lian. "Okay, so we think we know why Allison went along with the charade of acting like she was Coop's girlfriend. But Lian, why did you do it?"

  "Because it wasn't a charade," Lian insisted. "Coop and I are soul mates. Real soul mates. I mean, anyone can just... you know. But what Coop and I have is deeper than that. He gets me. And I get him. He loves me. This isn't like him and Allie at all."

  Getting an audience with Gary Gold inevitably meant waylaying him on the path to someplace else and trapping him in an inescapable confine. The previous instances when Bex managed to pry useful information out of the notoriously tight-lipped coach, she'd needed to ambush him at the barrier while coaching a student, invite herself along on a constitutional in the middle of a Moscow snowstorm, and physically block him from exiting a restaurant. Because Gary Gold was not what anyone would ever call free with the information. He was a very private person in a very public sphere, and he preferred to keep it that way.

  Even during Gary's own competitive days, he refused to answer any personal questions that strayed from the ice. His up-close-and-personal television profile the year that he represented the United States at the 1978 Olympics consisted of Gary practicing at the rink, being interviewed at the rink, and walking from the rink to the bus. He wouldn't let the crew shoot him at home, with his parents, or even reveal which bus he took. He said it had nothing to do with his skating, so what business was it of anyone's?

  As a coach, Gary preferred to stand back and let his students absorb all the limelight. He would come to the mandatory press conferences after various events, but only for moral support, not to offer quotes. "Their skating speaks for itself," was the closest anyone could get out of him for a sound bite.