LITMIR.BIZ

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      TWO

      Max reported the missing skate, and a full complement of coaches and competitors returned to scour the arena.

      Beth flipped back her sleek bob of hair. “This is ridiculous. Laney, did you go anywhere? To the bathroom or something and leave it there?”

      Laney’s cheeks flushed pink. Max realized that the result of Laney’s brain injuries was more public than he had known.

      “She was here talking to me the whole time,” he said.

      Beth skewered him with a look. “So what you’re implying is someone stole her skate? What would be the point, exactly? To cut her out of the competition?” She laughed. “Sorry, Laney, but we’re not that scared of you. At least I’m not.”

      Max would have let her have it, but Laney giggled.

      “You should be. I’m ferocious, didn’t you know that?”

      Beth grinned. “Yeah, that’s you. Ferocious. Still sleep with your night-light on?”

      “Of course. Keeps the monsters away.”

      Max marveled at Laney’s easy smile, the positive glow in all circumstances that puzzled him. She should be a gold medalist already—she had the skill, the natural gift and the work ethic to match, and yet he could not find resentment in her face, the resentment that was so alive in his own soul.

      Jackie finished her examination of the top tier of seats and returned. “There is no sign of it.” Her eyes scanned the arena thoughtfully.

      “What are you thinking?” Max asked.

      “Nothing, I’m sure. I was just considering that there are no strangers here, the girls, the coaches, the trainers, the custodians. No strangers...”

      He finished her thought. “Except the guy who wanted to talk to Laney.”

      “Who?” Laney asked.

      “A reporter,” Jackie said with disdain. “I told him to leave.”

      “So did I,” Max said. “But I didn’t actually see him go, did you?”

      Jackie shook her head solemnly. “I was down on the ice, timing Beth. But what reason would he have for taking her skate?”

      “Not one that I can think of,” Max muttered.

      Beth wrapped an arm around Laney. “You have spare skates?”

      “She’s got other pairs,” Max said.

      Beth gave him a sassy smile. “Yeah, I figured. Just thought I’d see if she needed to borrow temporarily or something.” She followed her coach through the exit.

      Laney sighed. “That was nice.”

      Nice? Max wondered. Or patronizing? Top-quality speed skates for skaters at this level were custom-made, the boots constructed using molds of the skater’s feet, and there was no possible way for Laney to skate any kind of a race wearing borrowed gear. Beth knew that as well as he did. She also knew they cost upward of three thousand dollars a pair.

      Laney’s father, Dan, was footing the bill for her training time, equipment, coaching and Max’s services. Something skittered through Max’s stomach as he considered it might be a real hardship to find the money for another pair of skates. He resolved to talk to Dan Thompson...soon.

      * * *

      Laney changed and met Max outside. The air was cold, and they blinked to adjust to the darkness. Laney still simmered with annoyance. She wasn’t making excuses and she hadn’t misplaced her own skate, as the girls suggested. She wasn’t that addled by her brain injury.

      To their left was a parking lot that would be jammed when the public-skating hours commenced on the weekend. Now there were only a few cars, one of which was her father’s banged-up Suburban.

      “I’m...” she started when the crash of glass made her jump. Her father’s rear window fractured, pieces glittering in the moonlight.

      Laney raced to the vehicle, Max a few paces behind her. She found her father crouched on the other side of the car, arm raised to his face as a squat, bushy-haired stranger readied a club to crash into her father’s skull. The stranger’s face was partially obscured by a cap.

      “No!” she shouted, surprising the man with the club. He swiveled quickly, swinging the weapon in an arc toward Laney. With reflexes born of elite levels of training, she ducked under the blow.

      The club fell viciously, whistling by her ear, causing her to fall back against the car while the weapon smashed into the passenger door, crumpling the metal.

      With an animal roar, Max went after the guy, who whirled on his heel and ran, Max in hot pursuit. Laney sprang to her feet, not sure if she should chase after Max or stay with her father.

      “Laney,” he croaked. “Keep out of it.”

      “Daddy,” she breathed, eyes filling as she crouched next to him. “Are you hurt?”

      “Just a knock on my thick head. Your mum always told me I had a hard skull.”

      Laney’s stomach twisted in agony as she strained to catch a glimpse of Max. What would happen if he caught the guy? Squeezing her father’s hand to comfort him, she felt the heavy thud of her pulse in her throat.

      Finally, Max returned, panting.

      “I lost him. I’ll call the cops.”

      “No,” her father barked.

      Laney’s mouth dropped open. “The guy could have killed you.”

      “He was a thief, wanted the iPad I left in the back probably. My own dumb fault.”

      Max dropped to one knee. “Mr. Thompson, the cops really should be notified, and the security team here at the oval.”

      “No cops,” he repeated again, getting to his feet with Laney’s help. “No harm done except a broken window and a dent, the price for my stupidity.”

      “But, Dad...”

      He waved a hand. “I’ll go inside and report it to security, but no cops. Not necessary. Now go on back to the dorms before you get a chill.”

      “I don’t want you out here by yourself,” Laney said as severely as she could.

      “I’ll have someone from security to walk me back. Go, go,” he said with a flap of his hands. He bent with a groan and picked up his bag.

      Laney was grateful when Max put his arm around her. His touch was the only thing that seemed to push away the cold that seized her from the inside out.

      She was almost sure that she’d seen a glimpse of her father’s iPad tucked safely in his bag before he left.

      * * *

      The distance from the oval to the athlete housing was a mile, which Laney and Max traversed in silence. Reaching the dorms, he used his pass key and held the door for her. Laney had been fortunate to be assigned her own room in the dormitory on the bottom floor where the female athletes and coaches stayed. Max was in another dorm with the male trainers, coaches and athletes. He waited while she opened her door, greeting her old cat, Cubby, whom she never traveled without, if possible.

      “Thanks for walking me back.”

      “Anytime.” He cleared his throat. “I feel bad about what happened to your father, that I couldn’t catch the guy.”

      She shivered. “Dad could have been hurt badly.”

      “And you, too,” he added, feeling again the chill that had swept his body as the man’s club had come within inches of her.

      “I hope security can help.”

      “Strange how he targeted your dad’s car. There were plenty of fancier models parked close

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