Break Point Down Read online

  “I know. It's odd. I thought with me gone, he'd let it go.”

  “You get your rest now, Kitt. We'll be in town a few more days. We'll be back soon.”

  “No,” Kitt grabbed his sleeve. “I need to get this straight.”

  “It can wait, Kitt.”

  “No, it can't.” He groped for the switch that raised the bed.

  Danny sighed and handed it to him, and the others sat back down.

  “Any of this tie in with your investigation?”

  “It fits in, but it doesn't tie up all the loose ends. We know a lot of things, though.”

  “Such as?”

  “The gambling outfit. Jeff and his buddies. Couple of senators. Henry Warner. Dave got into it just before you quit tennis.”

  “No kidding?”

  “Yep. We got a bunch more names, but they probably won't mean much to you. We'll make you a copy of the report.”

  “Rick, Les?”

  “No.”

  “Good.”

  “Our investigation started because of gossip and a cryptic Internet page that led us to the gambling angle. We worked through a friend of Jack's, an Internet junkie. We had to make sure we could trust him. It took time to get our ducks in a row.”

  “Why not just bet on somebody else after I left?”

  “This Internet guy intercepted some messages that showed heavy betting on your expected comeback. It was a new challenge.”

  “And Jeff put it all on my going back.”

  “Kitt, they bet on if and when, how long before you'd be back in the top twenty, then ten, five, and then if you'd make it back to number one, and how long that would take. Even after Jeff's death, more messages surfaced. Some people were still betting on you. We put that together with what was happening in your life. A while ago somebody started betting heavily against you. We turned the info over to the police.”

  A nurse entered the room.

  “Mr. Buchanan needs to rest. I must ask you people to leave.”

  Kitt impatiently waved her away.

  “Just a few more minutes.”

  “Five more minutes.”

  “Fifteen.”

  “Five.”

  “Ten.”

  “Deal.”

  She left the room, and Danny spoke up.

  “You confronted Wynne?”

  “Just with the scholarship stuff. She seemed to think I knew more than I did. So she makes a preemptive strike, tells me about the rest and blames it all on Jeff. Still thought she could make me see things her way.”

  He painfully sipped some water Delaney handed him.

  “She knew too much. She knew Thor was dead before I'd told anyone.”

  “Proof?”

  “Nothing you could take to the bank. She hasn't choked on her first lie.”

  “Seems to fit.”

  “At that point I chucked any illusions about friendship. She'd used me before. She wants what she wants, and Wynne doesn't let any notions of right and wrong get in the way when she wants something. So for once Jeff had told me the truth.”

  “About her, anyway.”

  “Oh, of course. Both of them told me about the other and played innocent. Seems she did some research way back. She said my parents had left a life insurance policy to pay for my upbringing and education. A pretty hefty sum. Jeff diverted most of that. She even knew the name of the company. I checked it out.”

  Danny's mouth dropped open.

  “Wait a minute. The crap about the BMW and his mortgage and all his sacrifices—”

  “Lies.”

  Kitt sighed.

  “Seems he never considered just telling me the truth. I'd probably have stayed on the tour. Dug himself in deeper and deeper.”

  The room became silent. Delaney glanced at his watch, motioned to the others, and they quietly rose. Kitt held up his hand.

  “Kari won't be safe till we know for sure if Zeller was in this alone.”

  “I doubt that Zeller or anybody else will do anything more. It's too public. They've got his computer with tons of child porn. He'll back off. He has enough to worry about—like jail.”

  “Think so?”

  “I think Danny's right,” said Roger Delaney quickly. “But just the same, we keep investigating. Zeller and the gamblers probably used each other, and we want to be sure they're all out of business. And the police will be keeping an eye out now.”

  Kitt shook his head.

  “Wynne knows. Wynne has to know what this is about. We have to get her to talk.”

  Delaney looked from one to the other.

  “There's two names that keep popping up in this thing. One's Kurt Zeller. The other is that of one of the heavy gamblers. Walter Lloyd-Rutgers.”

  Kitt stared at him for a long moment, and sighed.

  “He hates me for quitting, and for dumping his daughter. And Wynne knows Kurt. So they found Kari and used her.”

  “Probably hired private investigators, the best. So far it's speculation.”

  After a while, the visitors gone, Kitt tried to relax, one muscle at a time, till he was able to sleep.

  Kari sat by his hospital bed.

  ”So how soon are you going home?”

  “I hope tomorrow. You okay with Shay?”

  “She's very nice.”

  “You know I moved?”

  “Shay told me.” Her lower lip trembled and the tears started to flow. “And she told me about Thor. Uncle Kitt, I'm so sorry. He was such a great dog.”

  “The greatest.”

  “I don't understand how anyone can do that.”

  “Kari, he did more. He hired a private detective to find you.”

  “Me? Why?”

  “To get at me. He sicced that scumbag on you to set you up at the hotel.” Her forehead wrinkled in thought.

  “Kurt Zeller?”

  “Looks like it. Some of it came from Wynne, the scholarships, the jobs and that.”

  “I never liked her.”

  “I know.”

  “So which one paid somebody to—“

  ”I don't know. Does it scare you?”

  “A little. But it's all over now. They won't dare do anything.”

  “I think you're right.”

  “Did Dad have anything to do with this?”

  “How could he, Kari?”

  “I don't mean this last thing. But all the other stuff.”

  What could he tell her? The smoking gun was his?

  “I don't think your dad knew how they intended to get at me, or that they were going to use you. But he probably gave them information to make my life miserable. They were gambling on getting me back on the tour.”

  “How could he?” she pleaded. “You almost got killed and I—my father did this!”

  “Kari, your dad can't speak for himself, so we may never know. He was desperate, and he snapped. What you and I need to do is make our family work.”

  She squeezed his hand and rested her cheek against his arm. A nurse who looked in gently closed the door, and the hospital noises retreated into the distance.

  “There's stuff I've got to tell you, but I don't know if I can.”

  “Will it help if I tell you that all evidence to the contrary I am not a total idiot? I've learned a lot while I was looking for you. I have a pretty good idea what goes down on the streets.”

  “You'll think I'm a slut.”

  “Kari, look at me.”

  She raised her head reluctantly.

  “Your dad made you feel dirty. Maybe for a while you thought you were. I know better, okay?”

  She cried again then, and after a while she quieted down.

  In the afternoon Linda came to visit, and Kitt felt better. With Linda helping, Kari might pull it together. Her support team was growing. He and Shay and Linda and Tess and Danny could be Kari's entourage. After two years of trauma and chaos, she would need more than he could give her.

  “We're on our way, Linda,” he told her, and she noted the sparkle i
n his eyes.

  “It's a big step forward, Kitt, “she said. “Don't expect too much too soon now.”

  “I know, I know. But she's home.”

  “Have you asked her about coming home?”

  For a moment he was dumbfounded, and his face showed the terrible thought being born.

  “You mean—she might not want to come home? You think she wants to go back to that life?”

  “I don't know. You can't make assumptions. Your friend apparently strong-armed her up here. But after all, you found her—she didn't come home of her own accord.”

  “You really know how to cheer a guy up, you know that?”

  “She has known all along how to come home, Kitt. She's stuck around during this crisis, but that doesn't guarantee she'll stay. The emergency is over now.”

  “Great. I knew it wasn't going to be the happy-ever-after thing. But I never thought she'd want to take off again.”

  “I'm not saying she does. Just don't assume that something is so because you want it to be. Talk with her. See how she feels about going back into therapy. She has a long way to go.”

  “That I know.”

  “When I got here I saw a young woman come out of your room. She's the one Kari's staying with?”

  “Yes, that was Shay. She'll keep Kari till I come home. Provided Kari will stay, I guess.”

  “And Shay is going to be a factor in Kari's life?”

  “Right.”

  “I see.”

  “This is a problem?”

  “Not necessarily. But we need to consider everything and everybody around her. How has she reacted to her so far?”

  “I've seen them together just a few seconds. But Kari agreed to go home with her the night I got here and she's still there.”

  “She may be jealous.”

  “Jealous?”

  “Yes, jealous. It's obvious, Kitt Buchanan, that Shay means a lot to you.”

  “And Kari won't like that?”

  “I don't know. Having some time together without you there may help. If they get along well, it could actually be a plus. She may look on her as an ally.”

  “You going to talk with Kari?”

  “Why don't you bring it up with her first.”

  “Okay.”

  His talk with Kari went better than expected. She was tired, scared. His urging that she come home seemed to be met with relief, and she put up no resistance to another trial month of therapy.

  Kitt had swallowed his pride, and accepted Tess and Danny's offer to pay for the counseling. He was broke, in debt, and unable to work for at least another month. Kari's needs were urgent. Danny mumbled something about mules and oxen, and tossed him the keys to a new SUV.

  “Danny, you know how I—”

  “I seem to recall that five years ago you came through with your checkbook when I was mucking away at the bottom of the rankings. Would you like a list of the stuff you paid for to get me back on my feet?”

  Kitt had no retort, and stared at the key.

  “I don't know what to say.”

  “Hallelujah.”

  He silently shook his friend's hand.

  “So are you going to look into that university job?”

  “I made some calls and Shay's bringing in her laptop so I can get busy on it. You can apply online. It would be a big help. Serious tuition break, too. The pay is pretty decent.”

  “Get somebody to negotiate for you. Make'em pay for the privilege of getting you on board.”

  “That may scare them off.”

  “They won't turn you down. Number one player in the world coaching for you, that's a no-brainer.”

  “Ex-number one.”

  “You know as well as I do that if you chose to come back, you'd be number one again without question.”

  “Maybe. When I get myself back up to speed, I'd like to see how well I can still play. That'll be a challenge.”

  “And what about Shay—where does she fit in?”

  “Dead center.”

  “Your judgment is improving. I worried about Wynne. She's fulfilled my lowest expectations. So tell me about Shay.”

  A few days later Shay drove him home from the hospital. Exhausted after climbing the stairs, he sank back on the large futon that constituted the main furniture of the living room. He looked around the apartment.

  “Good thing it's got two bedrooms. It'll do for now. If I get that job, I'll get a bigger place with a yard. Are you bringing Kari down tonight?”

  “How about tomorrow? Give yourself a little time to adjust.”

  “Okay.”

  “Will you be all right by yourself?”

  “I may not be doing any overheads yet, but I'm not an invalid. Just watch me. I'll be playing that exo before Christmas.”

  “Don't even talk about another match.”

  “Something about that bother you?”

  “It's not the exo. But you're still with one foot in and one foot out of the tour. You haven't let go.”

  He sat back against the pillows. Had he been waiting for the other guy to dictate the play? A backup option, just in case things didn't work out. Was he really prepared to put pro tennis behind him and be just Kitt Buchanan, without the cushion of a multi-million-dollar bank account, or was he playing college student and fulfilling his boyhood daydreams? Was he ready to advance step by step instead of at the warp speed of professional entertainment?

  “I didn't see it before. Tennis will always be there, but not at the center of my life. Do a few exos for fun and profit, maybe once a year.”

  “I'm glad.”

  “Shay,” he said, puzzled, “if I had decided to go back to playing pro tennis, would you have dumped me?”

  She shook her head.

  “Get this, Kitt Buchanan. Nothing will make me walk out on you. But I'm not sure there's a place for me in that life. If you went back—are you so sure you wouldn't end up dumping me?”

  He closed his eyes, getting a grip on the feelings he needed to share with her.

  “A lot of my life has depended on whether or not I play tennis. But not this. Not you and I. How can I make it clear enough, Shay? I love you. I want to marry you.”

  “Would you say that again?”

  “A lot of—”

  “Not that part.”

  “I want to marry you.”

  Her voice didn't work and they looked at each other in wonder and silence, because the English language didn't cover what lay between and before them. Finally, he raised himself on his elbow and leaned over to kiss her. He felt all sweet and tender and bold and breathless.

  “You didn't answer.”

  “Make it a question.”

  “Will you marry me, Shay, please?”

  “I just might do that.”

  From far away came the muted din of traffic and blaring radios, neighbors yelling at each other and a television set in an adjacent apartment tuned to MTV. Someone was barbecuing hamburgers on a little balcony, and from down the hall came smells of fried fish. And right here a cocoon of stillness. Funny, he'd always thought that only in the mountains or on a deserted beach was perfect peace.

  When Kari came home the next day he was stumbling about the apartment, trying to make it look more inviting.

  “Your room's not big, but it's got a view of the apartment house across the street,” he told her. “That's got to count for something. I put your stuff in there.”

  “Uncle Kitt, can I ask you something?”

  “Ask away.”

  “What about Shay?”

  “Well, you've spent some time with her. You like her?”

  “That's not it. I think she's in love with you.”

  “Sure hope so.”

  “So you're in love with her?”

  “Check.”

  “Serious?”

  “I've asked her to marry me.”

  Kari stood up and walked around the room, her forehead wrinkled in a frown.

  “So when are you getting married?”


  “We haven't set a date yet. I was going to tell you about it this evening.”

  “Oh.”

  “Would you be a little more specific?”

  She hesitated.

  “Do you like her, or what?”

  “I like her.”

  “So what's the problem?”

  Again she started to say something and thought better of it. He got to his feet, grimacing in pain, and laid his hands on her shoulders.

  “Let's have it out. You got something against my getting married?”

  She shook her head.

  “Where am I going to go?”

  He walked her back to the futon and pulled her down beside him.

  “There. I don't suppose you'd want to repeat what you just said at close range.”

  “Most people don't want to start married life with a kid, especially one like me.”

  “Shay isn't most people. And how do you know what we want?”

  “I just thought—”

  “Bad habit. We want to get married. She knows we're a package deal.”

  “She said it was okay?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “What if you guys change your minds?”

  “Kari, Kari,” he closed his eyes for a moment. “I don't know what it will take for you to believe it, but such as I am, I am what you've got for a father slash big brother. We agreed to be a family once. None of that changes because I love Shay.”

  She sighed, and her eyes were flooded with relief.

  “Promise me one thing, Kari.”

  “What?”

  “Don't run off again. Whatever bugs you, talk to me. Together we can work on things.”

  “I didn't run away because of you. Dad—well, everything was messed up. I walked by the house a few times. I wanted to come back so bad.”

  “I may have missed you by minutes.”

  “I didn't want you to catch me there. I thought you'd be mad at me.”

  “Will you make that promise?”

  “Okay. I won't run.”

  Zack stopped by with some news of his own. He'd been selected as Davis Cup coach, and would be leaving soon to start scouting out the U.S. team. Kitt was genuinely pleased for his old coach. He had also been approached to do TV commentary.

  “I may sell the cabin. Don't know yet. I'm going to be gone most of the year, but it'd make a nice stopping-off place again,” Zack told him. “I'd almost decided to sell, but with the new soccer and football stadium they're building a few miles away— I'm not sure.”