Free Escape From the Badlands by Dana Mentink

Kelly’s questions to Betsy to check for altered consciousness, and an occasional comment from Shane. With a profound sense of relief, they pulled into the clinic and met the waiting medics. They loaded Betsy on a stretcher in spite of her protests and took her for a scan.
    Kelly sagged, feeling the tension ebb for the first time since she’d watched as Betsy had flown off her bike.
    Shane caught her arm and pulled her to his side. “Let me buy you a cup of coffee. We need to talk.”
    She didn’t argue. Pulled against his muscled arm, she let herself be guided along. They found a cafeteria, complete with bad coffee, and made their way to a small courtyard, empty except for an orderly reading a newspaper in the far corner. They sat at a table near a scraggly yucca plant.
    Sliding into a chair, she felt her senses returning to normal. “What’s going on?” she demanded before the first sip.
    He stared at her. “I’m not sure where to begin.”
    She waited, watching his eyes flicker in thought, like ocean water rippled by a strong current.
    He cleared his throat. “I don’t think Betsy’s crash was an accident.”
    Kelly gulped the coffee and burned her tongue. “How do you figure that? Is it part of your theory about Ackerman?”
    “I’m not sure.”
    Kelly felt competing emotions swirl inside her. On the one hand, she wanted to reach out and shake the paranoia out of Shane, but there was something in his face that prevented her from moving. “Tell me what you think happened.”
    “I only got a split-second look at the bike before they hauled it away.”
    “And?”
    “I think some of the spokes might have been partially cut.”
    “Cut?” She gaped. “But that couldn’t happen. Everyone inspects their equipment before the race. There’s no way Betsy would have missed that.”
    He hesitated. “First off, if the spokes were weakened, but not completely severed, she might not have. But we all went over our bikes back in camp. Then they were parked together while we looked at the course.” He paused. “Unattended.”
    She shook her head. “That’s insane. No one would do that. With all those people watching?”
    His eyes narrowed, the bright blue a startling contrast in his tanned face. “Someone did.”
    She tried another tack. “Any racer worth their salt would check their bike again before race time.”
    “You saw for yourself—Betsy was arguing with Ackerman.”
    “But…”
    “She was angry. She grabbed the bike and took off.”
    Kelly sat back in her chair. He was clearly not going to listen to reason. “Okay. If you’re right, then call the police.”
    “I thought about it, but that would end the race. Everyone would scatter, and I’d never find Ellen Brown.”
    Kelly couldn’t stop herself. She reached out and took his hand. “There’s no certainty that Ellen would tell you anything different than she told the police, even if you did find her. Listen to yourself, Shane. You’re not making any sense. Your need to help your brother is blinding you to reality.”
    For a moment, his long fingers tightened in hers, cupping their hands together. Then he pulled away and fixed his blazing eyes on hers. “I have to see this thing through. It’s the only way to save Todd. I’ve got to.”
    “I know you want to help him…”
    He slapped a hand on the table. “Listen, Kelly, I’m not going to lose a brother, not again.”
    She frowned. Again? “What do you mean?”
    He took a drink of coffee and shook his head. “Nothing. I’m not going to involve the police just now.”
    “Well, what are you going to do? If you think the bike was tampered with, you have an obligation to say so. Other people could be hurt, and you can’t ignore that.”
    “I won’t. I’m going to confront Ackerman and examine the bike. We’ll be able to see if the spokes were weakened.” He took her hand again and pressed his rough cheek into her palm, planting a soft kiss on the sensitive flesh. “I’m sorry