Phoenix Read Free Page B

leave it. It was locked to the railing, but anyone with a spoke wrench could have tampered with the front wheel. It would have only taken a few minutes.”
    “Why do you think someone might do this?”
    “I don’t know. Maybe they wanted me to lose.”
    Grandfather rubbed his long chin with his free hand. “Or perhaps they wanted to sabotage your bicycle in order to create a distraction. They somehow knew you would be racing this morning, and that I would be with you. If you were injured, we would be at the hospital for hours.”
    “I don’t understand,” I said. “What is going on?”
    “I do not know, but I can make a guess. This may not be about you at all, Phoenix. It may be about me. We have to hurry. I am afraid those men you saw may attempt to break into our home.”

We reached the parking lot just after Jake’s father and the other adults. We headed for our old Ford Ranger pickup, and I noticed someone leaning against the pickup’s hood. It was the kid who’d kicked me in the face. He turned in my direction, and my jaw dropped. I knew him.
    His name was Ryan Vanderhausen. His rich uncle blew more money on equipment and training for him than most families earned in a year. Ryan had spent the past semester with his uncle in Belgium, where cycling was more like a religion than a sport. It wasn’t unheard of for riders to get a lot better, or athletes to gain a lot more muscle, by training hard, but what I saw out on the trail and standing before me now was unreal. I could hardly believe this was the same kid Jake and I had smoked time and again last year. Ryan was fourteen then, which meant he was fifteen now, but there was no way anormal kid could have grown that much in a single semester.
    I looked over at Jake. His eyes were as big as mine. Jake’s dad whispered something to him, and they headed to their minivan, shaking their heads. They were probably thinking the same thing I was.
What on earth happened to Ryan?
    “Ryan?” Grandfather asked.
    Ryan smirked but said nothing.
    From behind Grandfather’s truck came a tall, thin man wearing a full road bike racing kit. The man’s riding shorts and short-sleeved jersey were skintight, and his legs were shaved. His brilliant white socks glowed against his deep “roadie” tan, and he had on one of those silly little hats with the tiny brim that bike racers wore in the old days beneath their leather riding helmets. Somehow, though, he still managed to look dignified.
    I knew exactly who he was—Dr. Vanderhausen, Ryan’s uncle. “Dr. V,” as he liked to be called, looked almost exactly like Ryan’s father, which was eerie. Ryan’s dad had died of cancer last November. I’d met Dr. V at the funeral. He was a chemist, and he’d gotten rich by developing a diet drug. He’d sold his company for hundreds of millions of dollars and was now enjoying an early retirement.
    “Phoenix Collins!” Dr. V said with a cheerful Belgian accent. “Chinese first name, Indiana last name. I remember you. You still look as unique as ever. I bet the girls go crazy over those green eyes.”
    I didn’t reply. For some reason, Dr. V gave me the creeps.
    “I’m sorry that you didn’t finish the race,” Dr. V continued. “I understand you are normally the man to beat. What happened? Did you have some sort of accident?”
    I felt color rising in my cheeks, and I glared at Ryan. I’d always considered him a friend until now. He was an aggressive rider, sure, but he would never have kicked or elbowed Jake or me before spending all that time with his uncle.
    I looked at Dr. V. “Why don’t you ask your nephew what happened?”
    “Me?” Ryan asked coyly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I blew past you after the root section, and that was the last I saw of you or anyone else. It’s not my fault you can’t keep up with me anymore.”
    I ground my teeth, and I felt Grandfather place his hand on my shoulder. “We should leave,” he said.
    “Just a