Break Point Down Page 18

  Kitt sat in the back of the courtroom day after day. Summer school was over. His duties with TEN-PRO were to start on September 15, and the signing of the contract was rescheduled for the week before that, when his attorney was back from his vacation.

  Jeff did nothing to advance his own case. Kitt observed his brother critically as he sat at the defendant's table, haggard and nervous. More than a few signs pointed to his heavy drinking. His expensive suit sort of hung on him now, and he looked gaunt and jittery. Kitt couldn't help but remember Jeff before the catastrophe. He could have been the model for the most exclusive men's fashions.

  The coming divorce seemed to have taken the fight out of him. He'd been talking as if all that kept the family scattered was the loss of their house, but without its backbone of wealth and status the marriage had unraveled fast. Had it ever been more than a stage for the two of them, to play their roles as rich, good-looking social icons and trend setters? With the stage rotting, no drama was left, just a sorry spectacle of mediocre actors stepping out of their roles into their sleazy lives.

  Jeff couldn't sit still and kept whispering to his attorney. He looked guilty. The best lawyer in the world couldn't have talked away the pile of damning evidence. He was an accountant and financial adviser—no way to claim honest mistakes. The case was lost, and nothing was clearer than that Jeff was working himself up to lay the blame on Kitt for everything wrong—past, present, and future. Kitt found himself strangely tolerant of that thought. Jeff was a little boy kicking the toy he'd tripped over. He wasn't one to blame himself, and who else was there? The brother he'd swindled and who stood as a living reproach. Forcing him to face the threat of Kari someday reporting him, destroying him with headlines in the papers and tabloids that would tear to shreds any hope he had of putting himself back together in a salable package of power and prestige.

  How long did people go to jail for tax fraud? How long for rape? Kari had finally agreed to a physical, and had told the doctor that the sexual activity had been with a boy her age, so no reports came of it. To Kitt's relief, she had no diseases.

  Did Jeff lie awake nights remembering? Did he dread the day when he'd look in the mirror and tell himself he'd raped his child? Was he terrified of the moment when he'd stand before the world revealed as a rapist?

  Fat chance. What he was worried about was the money lost, and the country club crowd that now shunned him. It was in his face, in his accusing glances. So he was going to jail. Where had Kari been all this time but in a prison of misery? In the late night hours when sleep wouldn't come he searched for answers. Jeff had lost everything he cared about. Wasn't it enough? Could he be excused from more tears and torment?

  Kari asked no questions when he came home from court in the afternoons, but he knew somewhere deep down she wanted to know, so he found ways to mention something about the proceedings, expecting no response and receiving none.

  Jeff might never go to court for his crimes against Kari, and each day as Kitt sat silently listening he saw her huddled in the corner of the witness box, dull brown eyes looking at her father slumped in his seat at the defendant's table, and he heard, not tedious discussions of dollar amounts switched and swindled, but Kari's choked voice telling of her pain.

  You used to read about these things in the paper, and it had seemed so easy. Toss them in the foulest jail and throw away the key. Castrate them. Life without parole. Who'd get soft on a child molester? What shades of grey could there be in that picture?

  But that was then.

  Chapter 4

  Match Point Down

  The verdict came swiftly. Guilty on all counts; sentence to be handed down in two weeks. Bail was revoked. Kari did not comment when he told her, but Kitt thought he glimpsed a look of relief on her face. She figures she doesn't have to put him there now. It lets her off the hook.

  Well, why not? Kari was feeling more secure. The trial had at least spared her the agony of rehashing the past. What more was the law going to do to put things right? Would revenge make her whole? Jeff was out of the picture. At last she could put this rotten mess behind her and get on with her life. And he with his.

  Not that it was all downhill from here. With both parents in denial, she had no one but him, and he'd stumbled along as though playing an unknown opponent without a game plan, without scouting or training or coaching, and by rules that changed every other day. She called the terms on which she would accept him, and the conditions seemed rather one-way. He could support, but not instruct; cheer but not coach, and provide, but not expect. Remember what you do to opposition, MacPhie had told him. Rip'em. Blow them off the court. But the opposition wasn't a guy with a racket, and it wasn't a tennis ball. Funny how it was with people. They'd squirm and fight and spit at you. They wanted things from you, the wrong things, and you worked the point around, tried to put them in a position to win, and they worked against you all the way. You can run and dive and jump, but in the end the ball is on their side of the net and they dictate the play.

  Could Laura help? She sounded guarded when he called.

  “You planning to see her any time soon?”

  “I'll figure out something. This is a hectic time. What with the dissolution and all—”

  “I wish you'd call her. She feels kind of deserted.”

  “So now I'm guilty of neglect. Well, I didn't abandon Kari. She abandoned me. With your connivance, of course.”

  “Have it your way. Can you give her a call now and then?”

  “When things are settled, perhaps we can have her overnight in a few weeks. I'll talk to my parents.”

  “They ask no questions? They're not the least bit curious why she is with me?”

  “I settled that. My parents could never deal with an adolescent again, at their age. They don't mind the little ones most of the time, but I can't even consider bringing Kari here.”

  “So you're not planning to take her back?”

  “Not for now. If you won't keep her, I'll see about placing her elsewhere for the time being.”

  “She has hardly seen you for the past eight months, Laura. She needs her mother.”

  “Not to sound harsh, but I have a few problems of my own. I haven't got anything left to give. Kari has more support than I do and I couldn't deal with that attitude of hers.”

  “What attitude is that?”

  “Do I need to spell it out? It's the martyr thing, the way she thinks her problems are way worse than anyone else's. All she worries about is her tragic little self, all blown up life size.”

  “She was betrayed, Laura.”

  “So was I, Kitt. I don't see you falling all over yourself worrying about me. Her problem happened almost a year ago. She seems to want lifelong recognition for it. She needs to stop feeling sorry for herself.”

  “You don't think rape is a big deal?”

  “You use big words, Kitt. She was fondled. I imagine she was inappropriately touched. I really don't know that it was more than that. I taught her about that stuff since she was little. But okay, she let it happen and here we are. Jeff has left me in a mess, or did you ever stop to think about that?”

  “Put me on the list, Laura. But bankruptcy isn't in the same league with rape.”

  “Oh, stop making it bigger than it ever was. If you'd stayed out of it, that concept wouldn't have occurred to her. She'd have forgotten about it by now. Your flair for the dramatic has cost me plenty.”

  “Of course. Well, what do you want done about Kari? Do you intend to have her stay with me, and if so, under what conditions? If she is to stay here, it's time I had some sort of authorization to make decisions, seek medical help, that sort of thing. She needs to go into counseling.”

  “There's no need to keep rehashing this thing. She seemed quite all right when I saw her last.”

  “She has nightmares. She has mood swings like you wouldn't believe.”

  “Give her the idea she can milk this thing forever, and we'll be dragging it out for the rest of our
lives. Anyway, I couldn't afford it if I wanted to. She's going to have to tough it out like the rest of us.”

  “Do let me know if you ever feel the urge to see your daughter.”

  At dinner Kari seemed edgy.

  “What did you and Mom talk about?”

  “Getting some arrangements straight. She can't afford a place of her own yet.”

  “So what happens to me?”

  “I guess you're stuck with me. I told your mom you were welcome to stay with me for the duration, but you're old enough you should have something to say in this. What do you think?”

  “She doesn't want me back, does she?”

  “I don't think it's about what she wants. She has no place of her own, and she feels she's imposing on your grandparents. They're not young, and having kids around is hard on them.”

  “They put up with Lita and Tony.”

  “Not much choice there. How do you feel about staying here? Be honest now.”

  She countered with another question.

  “What about tennis?”

  “What about it?”

  “Rick Sargent called again.”

  He nodded.

  “So what did he want?”

  “Samo, samo. He wants to make money off me. Told him no.”

  “Because of me?”

  “We've been over this before, Kari,” he said impatiently. “I want to go to school, okay?”

  “Okay. Then I'm staying.”

  “Good.”

  Not that at times he wouldn't have given his Grand Slams to get out from under; yet it was almost a relief that Laura didn't take her. All she seemed to care about was that Kari keep her mouth shut. Another scandal was far more intimidating to her than to him. Maybe it was shock. Grief, panic. She must love Kari. But how much time was enough for her to get herself together?

  He sighed. First it had been money everybody wanted from him, and now it was time. This time was to have been his. The time he'd bought by pulling out of the pro tour, the time that was going to recreate him and shape his life.

  Because Kari had another week of summer vacation, he suggested a few days’ campout in the mountains. She could invite a couple of friends.

  Her friends weren't into that sort of thing, she told him. Just the two of them then? He thought he saw a glimmer of nostalgia, not long enough to be sure. No camping. Any ideas? Yes. She wanted to go to Chaney Lake resort— water slides and speedboats, jet skis, and more stuff to do. He hadn't seen her this enthusiastic for months, and he silently calculated how much was left in the checking account. How much did that place cost anyhow? He quickly shrugged off his misgivings about the beleaguered budget.

  “We'll swing it. I should be getting some money from TEN-PRO pretty soon.”

  “When can we go?”

  “How about tomorrow?”

  “Can I bring Jenny?”

  “Not this time. If it all works out okay with TEN-PRO, we'll do something with your friends, okay?”

  “All right,” she said reluctantly.

  “I'm sorry, babe. I guess I don't handle money very well. It'll get better. For now we just have to watch our expenses a bit.”

  “I hate being poor.”

  “Join the crowd. Who knows, we might learn to enjoy the simple life.”

  She didn't answer, but her lightheartedness was gone. It didn't take much. No keeping up with her mood changes.

  That night Kitt and Thor ran for miles along the trails and when they finally sat in the grass, watching the last feathers of light at the horizon, Kitt thought about Jeff, and he shuddered. He felt the freedom of the mountains and the endless view and he imagined the prison walls and the dead years ahead of his brother.

  He put his arms around the young dog, running his fingers through the thick, scratchy coat, resting his face on the dog's head. Thor sensed his mood and whimpered a little, licking his face where he could. Kitt warded him off.

  “Quit that, you big slob.”

  Thor wagged his tail and let out a shivery bark and Kitt knew it was dog for “I love you.”

  He stared at the horizon. It was a safe bet no one would go see Jeff. Somebody had to care about him, even someone who wanted to kick his face in. He wasn't looking forward to it. Jeff might not even want him there. He liked a setting, and jail sure wasn't it. Likely to be all the background he was going to have for a while, though.

  “Come on, Thor.”

  They drove out early the next morning and Kari was in good spirits. On the way, they nibbled on bagels and fruit. Kari was no morning person and tried to sleep, but the beat-up Suburban offered little comfort, and after a while she gave up and pulled out a magazine. Kitt raised his eyebrows but said nothing. You picked your battles.

  By the time they got to Chaney Lake the sun was high in the sky and temperatures were already up around eighty. With a frown he pulled out his wallet again when the young boy at the counter told him he had to pay extra for the dressing cabins and lockers, but he saw Kari look at him, and smiled.

  “Meet you at the water slide?”

  She nodded, reassured, and walked off in the direction of the women's dressing rooms, her swimming bag over her shoulder. Kitt had covered forty laps before he spotted her. She wore shorts and a T-shirt over her swimsuit, and a huge beach towel hung over her shoulders.

  “Aren't you getting in the water?”

  “Later,” she said defensively. “I'm going to see some kids from my school over there.”

  He watched her walk off with the money he'd given her earlier in her hand. What happened this time? She used to head straight for the water slide, squealing all the way down. Talked about nothing else last night.

  When she was out of sight he made his way back to the pool to swim laps. The place was filling up. He recognized a few students from his classes, stopped to say hello, and returned to the Olympic-sized pool reserved for lap swimmers. He swam with an easy, natural stroke, his long wingspan propelling him smoothly through the clear water, and after a few laps he turned it up a notch, trying for a cleansing adrenaline high. Kari was still not at the water slide or anywhere near the water that he could see when he came out at nearly one o'clock. Why hadn't she come looking for him to go have lunch? Maybe she'd used part of the twenty—

  He checked at the food court, and walked by the fast-food counters, checking the terraces and stepping over sunbathers on his way to the rides. A bikini-clad girl sat up and smiled at him.

  “Hey, Kitt, good to see you. You here with someone?”

  “My niece. I was just going to check on her.”

  “Why don't you join us?”

  “Thanks, but I really need to check on this kid.”

  “Well, stop by when you find her.”

  The Ferris wheel was Kari's favorite ride, but she wasn't there. Nor could he find her at any of the other booths and rides. Sunbathing perhaps? She must be hanging out with those kids from her school.

  A half hour later he was frankly worried. His inspection of the beaches with their clusters of tanning teenagers, bare feet moving to the rhythms squawking from countless Ipods, had yielded no trace of Kari. He'd stepped over and around necking couples on the more secluded parts of the beaches and asked a resort employee to search the women's dressing rooms. No luck.

  He retraced his steps. She wasn't on the beaches, in the cafeterias, or at the carnival. Taking a shortcut to the pools through a wooded area, he heard a high-pitched whimpering. Puzzled, he stopped to listen.

  Some sixty feet behind the water slide a deep grove of evergreens shielded a few utility sheds from view. Stepping over branches and scratching himself on underbrush, Kitt reached the back of the grove.

  She sat huddled miserably in the bushes, wrapped in a dripping wet beach towel. Hysterical little squeaks came from her throat and she trembled when she saw him.

  He knelt by her, trying to put his arm around her shoulders but she jerked away.

  “Don't, don't, don't!”

  “What'
s the matter?”

  She pulled the towel closer around her, trying to hide herself in it, shivering pitifully.

  “Kari, I've been looking for you for an hour! What happened?”

  She shook her head and tried to talk, but nothing came out. Like that night last January, sitting on his couch shaking and shivering as now. He forced himself to calm down.

  “Anybody do something?”

  She shook her head again, over and over.

  “Can you talk to me?”

  She tried several times before she brought out a whisper. “Can we go home?”

  He looked at her hard, then nodded.

  “Okay. Here, take my towel—it's dry. Just give me the wet one.”

  The ferocity with which she clutched the wet towel surprised him. She yanked it out of his reach, then made an effort to get a grip on herself, reached for his towel, and wrapped it around her before she awkwardly dropped the wet one. As far as he could see, she wasn't hurt and her swimsuit looked intact. It was a relief.

  She stayed in her room the rest of the day. The only answer to his knocks on her door was a pinched voice telling him she didn't want to talk. He thought about walking in and telling her to cut out the hysterics and make an explanation but he stopped himself. Better not. About the only mistake he hadn't made yet, barging into her bedroom. At best she'd lose it completely. She wasn't going to talk today, and probably not tomorrow. Nothing he said would change that, and once again he could spend days and weeks trying to figure it out on his own, with nothing more to go on than the pamphlets and booklets he'd picked up at the local rape crisis center.

  “I'm taking Thor out for a bit,” he called through the closed door. “Be back around eight, okay?”

  There was no answer.

  TEN-PRO called to postpone, and Kitt's patience was running out. The proceeds of the condo had seemed pretty big, but the realities of daily living without a paycheck had just about zeroed him out. Budgeting was not in his life experience, and he regretfully added up where the money had gone. No more eating out. How did other people pay their bills and make a life too? Had he made the biggest mistake of his life? Another few years wouldn't have hurt that much. As it was, would he get through school any sooner? The game isn't over yet. There are lots of points yet to play.