PORTLAND, Ore. -- Tonya Harding could never break with the past.
She was the ice queen who retreated to a world of smoky bars and pool rooms.
She earned tens of thousands of dollars in appearance fees and training stipends but had difficulty meeting her monthly rent as late as last fall.
She filed twice for divorce and sought two restraining orders against her ex-husband. But they are reconciled and now live together.
"Tonya is a girl who can skate," said Ms. Harding's former coach, Dody Teachman. "Unfortunately, she has had a hard time taking herself out of where she came from. It seems hard for her to leave that world.
"There are a lot of athletes who have come from the wrong side of the tracks. They've risen above that. My hope for Tonya is that she'll get herself up to where she should be."
But now, Ms. Harding, the U.S. figure skating champion who has long yearned for an Olympic gold medal, faces an uncertain future.
With less than a month before the start of the 1994 Winter Olympics, she and ex-husband Jeff Gillooly find themselves the apparent targets of an investigation into the beating of her skating rival, Nancy Kerrigan.
Neither Ms. Harding nor Mr. Gillooly has been charged in the case, and their attorneys say they are cooperating with authorities.
Ms. Harding also finds her place in the Olympics jeopardized, as U.S. Olympic Committee and U.S. Figure Skating officials appear to be clearing a way for her possible removal.
The attack has focused a harsh light on Ms. Harding's hard life.
It has also produced a cast of characters and suspects far removed from the sequin-coated fantasy world that is figure skating.
This is "Swan Lake" meets "Hard Copy."
Three burly men raised in the hardscrabble reaches of rural Portland were arrested last week for staging the Jan. 6 clubbing that knocked Ms. Kerrigan out of the U.S. Figure Skating Championships in Detroit.
Ms. Harding's bodyguard, Shawn Eric Eckardt, 26, has confessed to a role in plotting the attack and faces a second-degree felony assault charge.
He has implicated Ms. Harding and Mr. Gillooly in the plot, an allegation reported by several news organizations. The reports have been denied by prosecutors.
Also facing second-degree felony charges in the attack are Derrick Brian Smith, 29, the alleged getaway driver, and Shane Minoaka Stant, 22, alleged to have struck Ms. Kerrigan with a collapsible metal baton.
Mr. Stant, too, has reportedly implicated Ms. Harding in the assault.
The men are linked by a passion for weightlifting and an urge to break into the personal protection business.
And their tenuous tie to the skating world is clear: Mr. Gillooly and Mr. Eckardt have known each other for nearly a decade.
The astonishing actions allegedly carried out by this bizarre cast may read like the plot of a television miniseries.
And overshadowing all is one question:
How did any of these suspects think they could get away with so brazen an attack?
"No doubt, that's the question of the century," said M. Mark McKnight, the attorney who represents Mr. Eckardt.
A relationship gone bad
It was an American love story.
They met at an ice rink in a shopping mall.
She was 15, a bouncy, blue-eyed performer who told anyone who asked that she wanted to win an Olympic gold medal.
He was 18, shy and handsome, a warehouse man for the Oregon Liquor Control Commission.
When Tonya Harding skated up to Jeff Gillooly at the rink in
Clackamas, she left behind her childhood and embarked on a relationship and later a marriage punctuated by violence, divorce filings and restraining orders.
And yet, formally divorced seven months, they are reconciled.
"I don't know why they stay together," said Ms. Harding's former agent, Michael Rosenberg. "It's like asking your friends why they married the wrong people. They are incompatible, but they are in love. They fight and they make up and it's lovey-dovey."
Married in 1990 in Vancouver, Wash., Ms. Harding filed for a divorce a year later. They then reconciled the first time, and Mr. Gillooly quit his job to help Ms. Harding train and oversee her career.
After the couple divorced in July 1993, Ms. Harding filed a second restraining order against Mr. Gillooly.
"It has been an abusive relationship for the past two years and he has assaulted me physically with his open hand and fist," Ms. Harding wrote in requesting the restraining order.
"He told me to watch my back and if he saw me out with any of my friends he would stop me," Ms. Harding added.
The restraining order was dropped shortly before the couple reconciled last summer.
Friends and relatives who know the couple create a portrait of a troubled relationship, with frequent, often violent arguments.
"Hell, if she looked at someone, he would get mad," said Ms. Harding's stepfather, James Golden. "He'd manipulate her real easy. He has such a possessive nature and is so jealous of her."
David Webber, whose daughter was the maid of honor at Ms. Harding's wedding, said, "To have an on-again, off-again relationship is not right. I think he controls her. She is a darling, darling girl."
With feisty self-assurance, she overcame nearly every obstacle set in her way. Raised in a broken home, apparently enmeshed in a stormy marriage, burdened with money woes, she still managed to reach the top of skating.
She won her first American title in 1991 and a World Championship silver medal. A year later, she was fourth at the Winter Olympics.
After a disastrous 1993 season, she climbed back to the top, capping off her comeback with her triumph in Detroit.
But always, always, the past kept pulling her back.
Back to Portland.
Back to Mr. Gillooly.
"Tonya wanted to have that stable home life," Mrs. Teachman said. "Being from a broken home myself, I know that that is something you hope for, to find someone stable, to find someone who is the boss."
Yet even when all should have been well in Ms. Harding's life, it was not.
More than $40,000 in training stipends from the U.S. Figure Skating Association and thousands of dollars more in appearance fees from a world skating tour should have ensured her financial future.
But it did not.
"We've had to help out Tonya financially," said Elaine Stamm, president of Ms. Harding's fan club. "We helped her with rent when she was divorced."
Those who know her are apparently always willing to help her.
"Tonya lived with us for a year, and she was the sweetest, dearest person," Mrs. Teachman said. "She had a really funny side. And a sweet side. There is that little child down there. But it has a hard shell around it."
Mrs. Teachman has been exposed to the harsh side of Ms. Harding, too.
A week after the 1992 Winter Olympics, Ms. Harding called her on the phone. "That's how she told me I was fired," Mrs. Teachman said. "It broke my heart."
The battle that wasn't
It was to be a battle of contrasts.
Ms. Kerrigan, elegant, graceful, a woman who resembled a young Katharine Hepburn.
Ms. Harding, athletic, exuberant, a block of muscle and a snarl on her face.
But they never got a chance to skate against one another last week in Detroit.
Ms. Kerrigan was clubbed once on the right knee. A sport was shaken. A country was riveted.
Then came the investigation, the arrests and a parade of fringe characters.
There is Mr. Eckardt, described by those who know him as a "James Bond-wannabe" trained at the Executive Security Institute in Aspen, Colo., who ran World Bodyservices Inc. out of his home.
He has confessed to authorities his role in arranging the attack, and feels "dirty" for helping injure Ms. Kerrigan, his attorney said.
There is Mr. Smith, a former Army intelligence analyst who spent the last five years working with mentally retarded adults and who moved 10 weeks ago to Arizona to open a training camp for bodyguards.
Authorities believe that Mr. Smith planned for the hit on Ms. Kerrigan and drove the getaway car from Cobo Arena in Detroit.
And there is Mr. Stant, a gruff survivalist who enjoyed playing war games with Mr. Smith on property they lived on in a remote, wooded area east of Corbett. He once served 15 days in the Kootenai County Jail in Idaho after he and three others stole four vehicles from a car dealership.
Mr. Stant also has implicated Ms. Harding in the assault, according to the Boston Globe.
Unknown is when the plot was hatched and exactly who knew about it and whose idea it was.
But this much is certain:
In the wake of the assault, Ms. Kerrigan has emerged as an American heroine, her face on the cover of magazines, her return skating next month turned into a made-for-television event on CBS.
And Ms. Harding, the U.S. champion, has been forced to dodge reporters on her way to and from her attorney's office.
Her Olympic dream has been reduced to a nightmare.
"Tonya is a survivor," Mrs. Teachman said. "But I look at her on the front page of a newspaper, and her eyes are red and she is near tears. For just a glimpse, I see that little girl I once knew."