“No plan. I’ve got to ask him some questions, that’s all.”
And if Austin didn’t answer? “What kind of questions?”
For seconds Shane stared ahead. Then, “If he was the one who beat up Derek.”
The pickup lurched to the middle of the road. Tim felt as if he’d been slapped. Did Shane really think that? “You’re simply going to walk in there and ask him?”
Shane closed his eyes. “There won’t be anything simple about it.”
Tim drove on. Austin beating up Derek? It didn’t make sense. Tim didn’t like Austin, but he couldn’t imagine a smooth guy like him bashing anybody. “Shane?”
“Yeah?”
“What makes you think he’d do that?”
Shane thought for a moment. “Because he can.”
“Huh?”
“I think it’s how he works. He can heal, he can cause pain.”
“Oh.” But Tim didn’t understand. Cause pain? Well, with words and while the victim wasn’t looking, okay. But Derek’s body had been badly beaten. Like Zeke. With a weapon in somebody’s hands. And what would Austin say—do, even—when Shane asked? Because this’d be more than a question, it’d be an accusation. He tried to picture the scene—which was hard since he’d never been to Austin’s house. But in his mind he saw a huge Austin looming high above Shane and a tiny Shane on crutches, Shane staring up at his sponsor. “Are you scared?”
Very slowly Shane nodded. He looked at Tim. “Of what he might say. And of what happens next.”
“Oh. Yeah.”
“But the first thing I have to do is ask why he wanted me to fall.”
“Yeah, that’d be a good question too.” Safer, too. Now the fork, the left branch. “This way, right?”
“Yep.” And in a whisper, “To Austin Osborne’s house.”
Tim thought he saw Shane shudder.
A few minutes, and Shane said, “It’s ahead. That drive there.”
The driveway to the Osborne land couldn’t be mistaken. Above the entry a large cedar sign, OSBORNE, hung from a crossbar between two posts. On either side of the name, the outline of a man’s skate. The driveway, a tunnel in the woods, trees meeting overhead, branches on all sides, squeezed in on Tim. The gravel crunched beneath the tires for at least a couple of hundred meters as if it were dry bones. “How far’s the house?”
“Pretty close now.”
The trees stopped at a large sloping field, a house halfway down. Where the green field ended, the blue sea sparkled. Tim felt relieved. From here the house and view were pretty. He drove on. He stopped, got out, came around and helped Shane hobble down, handed him his crutches and let him go first. He didn’t know how scared Shane really felt, but for himself his guts were trembling. They walked along the path to steps leading up to a covered deck. Tim helped Shane lurch up onto it. He led the way around a corner to the front door. Shane knocked. They waited. Tim wished they’d never come.
• • •
At least Gowlland Harbour Road was halfway to Osborne’s house. Up to West Road, left to Heriot Bay. Noel was getting to know this route well.
• • •
The door opened. Austin Osborne, larger than life. “Shane! What a pleasant surprise. Come in. And hello, Timmy. Welcome.”
“Hello Austin,” said Shane. Tim stayed silent.
Austin let the brothers walk past him, watched as Shane hopped on one foot and the crutches, and shut the door. Immediately Tim felt trapped. Stop that, he told himself. Just because you don’t like Austin, there’s no reason to be frightened. Yet.
“We’ll go to my study,” said Austin. “I have guests in the living room.” He led them along a hallway, opened a door and stood aside as Shane and Tim passed. He shut the door. Pulling it tight, Tim noticed. “Please have a seat.”
They both sat on a sofa. Austin took a chair on the far side of his desk—his throne, Shane knew it to be. “How’s the leg, Shane?”
“Healing, I hope.”
“Good. It’ll be easier to work on it now you’re back on Quadra.” He noticed Tim glance out the window, from the fine view of the ocean down the cliff at the bottom of the field, up to the right and left where the land at the edge of the forest was covered with salal and Oregon grape. “Yes, Timmy, beautiful, isn’t it? But distracting. To get any work done, I need to keep my back to the view.” He smiled. “Now, what can I do for you?” He looked from Shane to Tim. Both remained silent. Austin waited. “Shane?”
Shane stared at the desk between them. At last he raised his eyes to Austin’s neck. “I have to ask you a question.”
“Yes?” Austin’s smile deepened.
“When you told me to fall. Why? Why did I have to do that, Austin?”
Austin’s smile lingered until disappearing like the Cheshire cat’s. “You asked me that then, Shane.”
“And you wouldn’t answer.” Red splotches covered Shane’s cheeks.
“Do you remember what I said? I told you not to question this. Just do it, I said. It’s for your career. In the long term, this is important. And you asked me again, Why? And I said one day I’d be able to tell you. And you did as I asked. Which was good, Shane. Then and still now.”
“So when are you going to tell me?!”
Veins on Shane’s temples were throbbing. Tim hoped his brother wouldn’t cry.
“I’ll tell you now if you insist, Shane. Would you like a glass of water?”
“Fuck the water! Tell me!”
“Very well. To keep your career from being ruined by Harold Arensen.”
For Tim all sound and all motion faded from the room. How could anyone ruin Shane’s career? Tim had heard about Arensen, the head of the skating association. What did Arensen have to do with Shane? Why would he meddle with Shane’s skating?
But Shane seemed to grasp what Austin had said. “You mean like he ruined you.”
“Like that,” said Austin.
“But I don’t understand. How does my falling save me?”
“He’s doted on your skating since he first met you. He sees you taking giant strides toward what he believes will be perfection. In his eyes, you do nothing wrong.”
“So—I had to commit a big mistake?”
“In his eyes, you now have been blemished.”
“You mean, one more fall and he’d never bother with me again?”
Austin nodded. “Exactly.”
Now Shane looked straight at Austin. They locked eyes. Tim watched as Austin nodded slowly. Was this some kind of hypnotic move? Tim looked away from Austin and said to Shane, “He’s full of bullshit.”
Austin turned to Tim. “Fortunately, you’re wrong.”
“How can Arensen ruin Shane, anyway?”
“Harold Arensen has ways of harming a skater’s career that have never occurred to anyone else. He chooses his method according to each of his victims. What would he do to Shane? I don’t know. And I don’t want to find out. I only want to protect Shane.”
Shane let out a heavy breath, as if he’d been holding it. Maybe he had, Tim thought. Shane said, “Why didn’t you tell me back then?”
“You don’t need to deal with such problems, Shane. That’s why I’m here. Your training is important. That’s what you need to give your total concentration to.”
Shane didn’t respond. His shoulders slouched.
“What?”
“I don’t know, Austin. I don’t know.”
“What don’t you know?”
“Anything.”
“But I know. You head home now and spend the day relaxing. Tomorrow we’ll get back to work healing your leg. Okay?”
Shane nodded, and reached for of his crutches. “I guess.” He started to stand—
“Shane.”
Shane glanced at his brother.
“There was another question.”
“I—I don’t know, Tim . . .”
The study door burst open. Noel, with Kyra behind him. They glanced around the room. Noel said, “Are
you guys okay?” He stepped up to Austin’s desk. Tim sprang from the couch.
“What is this?” Osborne, now leaning across his desk. “Get out of here! Now!”
“We’re fine,” said Tim.
“You have no right to break into my house! Who let you in? Leave! Right now.”
Tim said, “Austin. They stay.”
Kyra and Noel glanced at Tim. Solid authority in that voice. Noel backed away from the desk and stood beside Kyra.
Tim said, “I was just about to ask Austin a question.”
Austin sat down. “Ask away. Then all of you leave.”
Shane said, “Maybe—maybe not now.”
“Now.” Tim leaned onto the desk. “Austin, did you beat up Derek so badly he’s still in a coma?”
Austin’s head jerked to the side, all his attention on Tim. “What did you say?”
“You heard me. You beat up Derek. Why?”
“You’re being ridiculous. I would never beat up anybody.”
“Except Derek’s in a coma and I think you put him there.”
“That’s a very serious accusation, young man.”
Kyra took a step toward Tim. Noel grasped her arm, holding her back.
Austin went on, “Be careful about repeating that. You could get in deep trouble.”
“Austin, you’re—you’re—” Tim could feel himself already deep in trouble. Austin was right, they’d better leave now. “Shane, we’re out of here.”
Austin walked around the desk to Tim. “Listen to me, Timmy. I could no more beat up Derek than I could—than I could harm you. You’ve known me for four years. Do you really think I could beat someone up like that?”
No, Austin was right. Tim had known personal violence wouldn’t be Austin’s way. Yet Tim knew Austin was responsible for Derek’s coma. And not by flinging words at Derek. Maybe—words to someone else? Had Austin paid someone to beat Derek up? Austin paid people to get things done. Had he—oh wow! Yes! “You wouldn’t do it yourself. You’d get someone to do it.”
Slowly Austin shook his head. “Now you really are going too far, Timmy. This is completely ridiculous. You and Shane have to leave now.”
“No, not just someone.” Tim knew now. It made total sense. “Randy. You got Randy to kick the shit out of Derek. Didn’t you? Didn’t you!”
“Shane, take your brother and go.” He faced Kyra and Noel. “And you two as well.”
“You did, didn’t you?”
Austin shook his head. “I never ever would do such a thing.” Sadness in his voice.
Tim heard the lie. “Come on, Shane, let’s ride.”
Shane shuffled to his feet, held himself supported with the crutches, and turned to the door. Tim held it open and they both passed through, Kyra and Noel behind them.
Austin followed the little parade. “Shane, I’ll see you tomorrow. Timmy, take care of your brother. He’ll be much better very soon. And you please watch your tongue. You don’t want to say slanderous things in public.”
Shane stepped outside. “So long, Austin.”
Tim thought, if that guy uses “Timmy” one more time I’ll strangle him. But Austin said nothing. Tim couldn’t stop himself from adding, “Anyway, Derek’s come out of the coma and he’ll tell us who beat him up. We’ll know soon, Austin.” He put his arm around Shane’s waist when they reached the steps and helped him down.
• • •
Austin closed the door and walked back to his study. He wasn’t prepared to talk with Shu-li now, let alone Steve.
From bad to terrible. A dangerous accusation. That Timmy should think Austin Osborne capable of hitting someone, again and again.
Yes, he’d been angry when Shane refused to commit himself to a second fall. But that was normal. Angry because Shane didn’t understand it was for his own good, for the safety of his splendid career.
Back then, a month, six weeks ago? Austin had felt thoroughly despondent. He had thought about picking up the phone, calling Shu-li. He didn’t, not because someone might overhear, just . . . it wasn’t the kind of conversation for the telephone. You speak face to face when worrying about plans going awry. Too much could be misunderstood if you couldn’t watch the other person’s expression.
He’d had no one to talk to. Need to think, need to think. He’d plucked some mint from the garden and found the cucumber in the fridge. He’d cut himself a spear, mint at the bottom of the glass, poured in the Pimms, dropped the cuke into the liquid. Randy knew how Austin liked his drink, always made sure to stock the refrigerator with fresh cucumber. He’d sat in front of the fire and let his mind wander. Shane must fall one more time, this was imperative.
When Randy had arrived Austin was into his third Pimms. “Randy, come join me, make yourself a drink.”
“Thanks, Austin.” He’d poured a Scotch and joined Austin by the fire. They talked of the projects Randy had worked on while Austin was back in Ottawa—the new flagstone walkway, the deck’s roof repairs, replacement to a section of fence that kept the deer out. Randy was good at seeing what needed doing. So it seemed natural to speculate about Shane, the need for Shane to act as he was told. For his own good, of course. Sometimes one had to be taught a lesson, Austin hypothesized. “Don’t you think so?”
“Yep, that’s sometimes necessary.”
“Of course we have to be careful with Shane. He’s a valuable person. He shouldn’t come to any harm.”
“Yeah, that’d be terrible.”
“Really terrible.” A weariness to Austin’s words: “He’s sometimes so thick. I’ve warned him, if he doesn’t follow my directions to the letter, someone might get hurt.”
“That’d be bad.”
“But he’s doing just that.”
“Just what?”
“Not following directions.”
“Yeah. That’s not good.”
“So he has to be taught a lesson. He doesn’t get it when I tell him things directly.”
Randy had nodded. “Maybe he could figure it out indirectly.”
Austin sipped his Pimms. “Maybe. Yes, maybe.”
That was all. They’d each had another drink. Later Austin grilled himself a small steak and baked a sweet potato, he remembered. A couple of days later he headed back to Ottawa. Not until he’d talked to Shane a few weeks later did he learn how terribly Derek had been beaten.
And what now, with Timmy shooting off his mouth? Wild guesses. Stupid Randy. And the boy in the hospital, out of the coma. What if he figures out who hit him?
• • •
The four gathered at Derek’s truck. Noel said, “That was a crazy, confronting Osborne, just the two of you.”
“Scary,” said Tim, “but not crazy. We learned something.”
“You learned what you should have figured before, that Austin wouldn’t tell you anything, just try to frighten you off.”
“He told us why he wanted Shane to fall while competing. Before you came in.”
“He did?” Kyra asked. “Why?”
Tim glanced at Shane, who said, “He was trying to save me from Harold Arensen.”
“What do you mean, save?”
Shane repeated what Austin had told him. “And, I think, it’s a kind of revenge for Austin. He wants to ruin Arensen’s reputation.”
Noel said, “That makes no sense.”
“It’s how Austin thinks. He makes these connections in his head and everything that follows from them is logical. In his terms.”
“I don’t get it,” said Kyra.
“Tim,” said Noel, “tell me about Randy. Who is he?”
“Oh, just a guy. He works for Osborne, all kinds of jobs around the house. He worked for my dad a couple of years in the woodlot. He gives me the creeps.”
“Because of how he looks?”
“How he acts, how he moves. Sort of—stealthy, almost.”
“What’s he look like?”
“Normal. Taller than Austin. Maybe thirty-five, forty.” He tried to image Randy. “He�
�s strong, got big shoulders.”
“And you think Randy hurt Derek on Osborne’s orders?”
Tim nodded. “I’d bet on it.”
Austin Osborne, standing on the top step: “Go! Leave!”
“Come on,” said Noel. “Let’s reconvene at your parents’ place.”
Tim and Shane drove together from the Osborne house, followed by Kyra and Noel. “Well,” she said, “that was a show.”
“Yeah, like opening Pandora ’s box.”
“Dangerous for Derek?”
“Yes. But I told Jason to get a guard posted at Derek’s door.” They turned onto Hyacinthe Bay Road. “You believe Tim’s right, that it was Randy who beat up Derek?”
Kyra considered this. “It’s a hypothesis. Maybe we’ve found our black hats.”
“What about that crazy reason for Shane falling?”
“It seems—I don’t know. So minimal. Such a little thing causing such a mess. He wasn’t even trying to fix a competition.”
Noel’s cell phone buzzed. Ah, network contact. He took the phone from his pocket, read call display. “Alana.”
“You shouldn’t talk on the phone while driving.”
He scowled at her and pressed Talk. “Hi.”
“Hi. I’m here just outside Derek’s room. He’s waking, then going back under. He’s been doing it for the past couple of hours, Cindy says.”
“He saying anything?”
“Some words. Not making a lot of sense. At least not to me.”
“His parents understanding any of it?”
“They’re just glad he’s making sounds. Linda acts like he’s back all the way.”
“How’re you doing?”
“I’m fine. Shorty was here when we arrived. He just left. You two okay?”
“All in control. Should we come over?”
“Not much going on.”
“Okay. Keep in touch.” He flipped the lid closed and reported to Kyra. She seemed off somewhere inside her head. They followed Derek’s truck as it turned right toward the woodlots, and down the drive to the Cooper house. A couple of hundred feet behind the now parked truck, Kyra touched Noel’s arm. “Stop here.”
Never Hug a Mugger on Quadra Island Page 26