by Dena Blake
“That’s not going to happen, Samantha.” Paddy’s eyes grew narrow. “And don’t think I won’t replace you if I have to.”
“Good luck finding another crew chief with my skills.”
“Come now, Samantha. At least give the girl a shot.” Paddy rubbed his hand across his face roughly.
“The girl is an absolute idiot.” She let her arms drop, planting her hands on her hips. “What kind of a driver doesn’t know when she’s thrown a rod?”
“You said it. I’m a driver, not a mechanic,” Drew shot back, forcing her gaze up Sam’s long, curvy torso to meet her impenetrable stare.
“Any driver with half a brain can tell when something’s wrong with her car.”
“Then why didn’t Tommy come in before Lucky Thirteen fell apart?” Drew could see the remark provoked an unexpected gut-wrenching reaction in Sam, and her sudden vulnerability made Drew shift uneasily. “I’m sorry, Mr. Kelleher. But with all due respect to you and your crew chief, I’m sure you know from your own experience, a driver doesn’t always hear the subtle hints a race car produces before something goes wrong.”
“A thrown rod is not a subtle hint. The damn thing sounds like a jackhammer.” Sam regained her composure and gave Drew a heated glare. “You’re supposed to handle an engine, not mangle it.”
Drew clenched her jaw and matched Sam’s stare. “If the valves had been adjusted correctly, it never would’ve happened.”
Sam’s brows rose, and her lips flattened as she threw up her hands. “Not my problem. I’m not your tech.” She swung her gaze quickly back to Paddy. “I won’t pit for this arrogant—”
“That’s fine. Because I won’t drive any machine you lay hands on.”
Paddy clanged a wrench against an oil drum, sending an ear-piercing echo throughout the garage. “All right now. I’ve heard just about enough from the both of you.” He pointed the wrench at Drew. “If you drive for me, Samantha will be your crew chief.” He held up a hand as Sam started to protest. “And you, young lady, may be my daughter, but you are still in my employ. If you want to keep this job, you’ll work on whichever car I decide.”
“She’s your daughter?” Drew darted her gaze back and forth between them, her mind in a spin. What the hell had she gotten herself into? She had no idea this bull-headed, beautiful woman was part of Paddy Kelleher’s family. Sam was her prime suspect.
Paddy smiled slightly. “My oldest and most stubborn,” he said, with a grumble.
Drew should’ve seen it. Red hair—tenacious—the resemblance was obvious now. She’d only thumbed through the case file, but she hadn’t seen anything about Paddy’s daughter being his crew chief. This would definitely complicate things.
“Right now my only open driving slot is for testing and backup,” Paddy said.
“I don’t want to be anyone’s backup. I want to race.” Drew glanced back over at Sam to make sure she was buying her act. She could see by the scowl on her face she was taking it in bigtime.
“That’s all I’ve got right now. Take it or leave it.”
Drew took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Making it known that she’d blown up her last sponsor’s car was a risk, but she had to make sure no one else out there would touch her. She had to be on the target team. Drew needed to be close to her suspect. She hadn’t realized, the other night, that she’d already made it to the inside track.
“You’ll give me a fair shot?”
“Aye.” Paddy nodded. “You’ll have to prove yourself, of course.”
“You’ve got yourself a backup.” Drew shook his hand and headed for the door before she took her phone and sent a Tweet to get the word out.
* * *
Sam was fully aware Paddy could, and would, put another car on the track if he wanted. Instincts or not, he had too much money invested to unleash this hot-headed chick on the racetrack without seeing what she could do first. With the recent rash of accidents, Sam knew his threats to fire her were idle. Paddy wouldn’t trust any other technician to work on his cars.
“You’ll be gone in a week,” Sam mumbled, giving Drew a smile of satisfaction when she glanced back at her. No respectable driver would settle for being backup.
“Don’t look so smug,” Paddy said, apparently catching Sam’s expression. “If the young lady turns out to be as good as she says, I will put her in the race. In the meantime, you and she had better learn to get along. She’s going to be testing every car you work on.”
“What’s the matter with you?” She threw up her arms. “You don’t know anything about that girl, and you’re willing to let her drive a two-hundred-thousand-dollar car?”
“I know more than you think, Samantha.” He narrowed his eyes. “You’ll just have to trust me on this one,” he said, going into the office. “Now show Drew the bus, and see if you can find her a racing suit that fits.”
This is just what I need! Seeing Drew around the track once in a while was one thing, but working with her on a daily basis would be a whole different story. Her phone chimed, and she took it out of her pocket just in time to see “Newest driver @kellehermotorsports #NASCAR #speed” scroll across the screen. She tapped the message and pulled up Drew’s profile.
NASCAR Driver, likes it fast…on the track.
Un-fucking-believable. Another message scrolled across the screen. Brad had tweeted a response.
@drewthompson backup drivers never get track time #alwayslast.
Sam smiled. “Let the games begin.”
* * *
Sam caught Drew just beyond the side door of the garage. “Hang on a minute. Paddy wants me to show you the bus.”
“I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me.”
“I don’t, but that won’t prevent me from doing my job.”
“So you’re going to take one for the team, eh?”
She lifted her lips into a plastic smile. “Something like that.”
“Lead the way.” Drew motioned her in front.
“It’s right over here.” Sam pointed to the brightly colored custom racing bus parked a few yards away. “Paddy likes to keep it close.” She unfastened the latch and tugged at the back door, but it didn’t open.
“Here. Let me help you with that.” Drew reached around and grabbed the knob. The door was open with one swift tug, and Sam was trapped between Drew’s great-smelling body and the side of the bus.
Within seconds, Drew’s mouth was on hers, and they were locked in a heated kiss. As Sam’s mind spun out of control, she tried to think of a single reason why she didn’t like her. But with every one of her nerve endings sizzling, she couldn’t recall. She wrapped her arms around Drew’s lean frame and swept her hands up her back. When Drew’s hands crept up the inside of her shirt, she couldn’t stop them, didn’t want to. Before they met the hot skin of Sam’s breasts, the loud roar of a race-car engine reminded Sam where she was. At the track. In broad daylight. Where everyone knew her.
Sam snapped her eyes open and shoved Drew away. “Stop. I told you, I’m not interested.”
Drew’s lips pulled into an irresistible smile. “That’s not the impression I’m getting.”
Sam swallowed hard and stared into her smoldering brown eyes. “I’m here right now only because Paddy has an eye for drivers. After seeing that engine you killed, if it were up to me, I wouldn’t let you drive a Tonka Truck.”
“Thank God for Paddy.” Drew leaned in to kiss her again.
Sam closed her eyes and turned her head, trying to shake the unnerving feeling of surrender floating throughout her body. “I said stop!” Sam’s voice faded into a desperate plea. If she wasn’t careful, she’d fall right back into Drew’s arms. “I’m begging you. Please don’t.”
Drew let out a heavy breath, backed up, and let her turn to speed up the steps. Sam glanced back over her shoulder to find Drew right on her heels. She’d let her go, but she wasn’t letting up. She felt like sweet little Penelope Pussycat on the run from Pepe Le Pew, only not so unw
illing. Soon enough Drew would have her cornered at the end of the bus, and she’d be back in her arms again. Lockers. She stopped, opened one of the lower cabinets to use as a barrier between them, and a shoe toppled out.
“That’s strange. There shouldn’t be anything but extra suits in here.”
Drew picked up the shoe and raised her eyebrows, prompting Sam to continue.
“Sonoma is our home track. Most of the crew has family in the area. We don’t use the bus for anything but storage when we’re here. Paddy keeps this garage year round.”
Drew fingered the limited wardrobe. “Looks like someone chose not to go home.”
“Maybe.” She plucked the shoe from her hand and tossed it back into the locker. “Or someone just forgot to clean out their locker.”
“So where do you live?” Drew was using that hey-I’m-interested tone again.
“I pretty much live on the road.”
“All the time?”
“Sometimes I stay with my sister.”
“Doesn’t leave much to come home to, does it?”
“The racing circuit is my home.”
Drew’s eyebrows popped up again. “No plans for the future? Spouse? Family?”
“I wouldn’t be good wife material.” She let the spring-loaded cabinet door clang shut. “The track really isn’t the kind of place to raise a family.” She let out a sigh. “Not a normal one, anyway.”
“Are you speaking from experience?”
She glared at Drew. She was doing it again. Being too nice. Acting interested in things other than the race. Things she shouldn’t be interested in.
“Let’s get back to business, shall we?” Sam jerked open a drawer. It slammed straight into Drew’s leg, and she grimaced. That should dampen lover-girl’s libido for a while. “These are for tools. Parts are stored underneath the counters. Up the steps is a couch and TV, someplace to rest when we’re at another track.” Sam turned and brushed past her, heading back to the entrance to another set of lockers. “These are the crew lockers.” She yanked open a door and tossed a racing suit at her. “Here. Try this one on.”
“Right now?”
“Sure. Why not? You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before.” Maybe if she saw her body again, she’d realize Drew wasn’t all that great.
“Okay.” Drew slipped off her jeans and then her shirt. Sam froze. Her pulse rang in her ears, and her cheeks heated. Sports bra, abs, boxers. What the hell was she thinking? She was much better than Sam remembered, and now Drew had caught her reaction.
Sam pulled open another locker. “The helmets are in here. Find yourself one that fits.” She turned and flew back down the center aisle and out the exit.
Chapter Five
Jade kept her distance, watching Brad as he pulled Sam hard against him and covered her mouth with his. Not being much of a voyeur, Jade had already started to turn away when she realized something was different about the woman she’d been investigating and took a second glance. Same hair color, same build, but it wasn’t Sam trapped in Brad’s clutches. It was someone else. This was a new development. She discreetly followed them as they walked around the outside perimeter of the garage. He took the woman’s hand and led her around the back of the building. Jade crept to the corner and peeked around, catching the woman settling into Brad’s arms and kissing him again.
“Sam was out last night. She used her sister for an alibi.” He looked irritated.
The woman backed up and locked her arms across her chest. “You’re not actually jealous, are you?”
He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her back to him. “Why would I be jealous when I’ve got a younger, prettier model right here?”
“That’s a good question.” She kept her arms locked in front of her as he worked on softening her up.
Jade knew from her research that Brad’s digressions were plentiful, but hadn’t witnessed any until now. It wasn’t a secret that the man was promiscuous. Sam and Brad had frequent public arguments about his affairs. Their romance had been rocky and often volatile over the past few years.
Jade shivered. Watching Brad charm the woman made her skin crawl. Time to let them know their secret was no longer safe.
“Whoops,” Jade said, rounding the corner. “Aren’t you mauling the wrong woman?”
The woman waited for Brad to respond, then answered when he balked. “I was upset about something, and Brad was just helping me work through it.”
“That’s great. I mean, that you’re here to comfort random groupies.” Jade let out a short breath. The whole idea that Brad would comfort anyone was ridiculous.
“I think so.” The woman brushed past her. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get going. I have to pick up my dress for the sponsor party.”
“From the cleaners?” Jade liked to make groupies squirm. She thought it was funny that a few tattoos and piercings had such an intimidating effect on other women.
“From the designer.” The woman let her eyes sweep up to meet Jade’s, and her lips squeezed into a pretentious smile. “It might be a stretch for you, but maybe I’ll throw it your way when I’m done with it.”
“Thanks.” Jade smiled. “I’ll have to have it taken in, of course.” She didn’t know how Brad attracted the rich ones.
He tried to slip by, but Jade flattened a hand on his chest. “Hang on a minute, hotshot.”
“What?”
“You don’t fool me one bit. I just can’t believe you’d do that shit right here at the track.”
He raised his hands in innocence. “I’m not doing anything. You heard her. She came to me for comfort.”
“Comfort? Is that what you’re calling it now?”
“Oh, I get it.” He gave her a cocky smile. “We didn’t get to finish our swim this morning.” He backed her up against the metal building and whispered in her ear. “I’m free now.”
“I’ll never be that free.” She slid her knee up the inside of his thigh and pressed it to his groin. “I suggest you back up.”
He shrugged and pushed away from the building. “You still seeing Tommy?”
“Yep.”
“Let me know when you’re ready for a real man.”
“He’s twice the man you’ll ever be.”
“I don’t think so.” His smile faltered. “Never was, never will be.”
She clenched her fists and trapped them by her sides. Remember what the doctor said—verbalize. Put your feelings into words. Beating someone senseless doesn’t help anything. Only one problem—the words were there. They just wouldn’t come out. Before she could respond to Brad, she heard the side door clang shut, and he walked to the corner to see who it was. She followed. Peering past Brad, she was surprised to see Drew Thompson strutting across the asphalt. Damn! What the hell is she doing here?
The door swung open again, and Sam flew out, chasing Drew. Jade couldn’t hear what she was saying, but Drew stopped, they talked for a brief moment, and then Drew followed Sam to the racing bus.
“You may have some competition,” Jade said, quickly slipping back into her fictitious persona.
“Who? Her? The girl’s an amateur.” Brad glanced at Jade, and his eyes narrowed. “She’s got nothin’ on me.”
“Maybe.” Jade smiled at Brad’s obvious irritation and couldn’t resist adding fuel to the fire. “But she’s got Sam’s attention.”
* * *
“Don’t tell me you actually hired that amateur,” Brad said as he paced the ten-by-twelve office.
Paddy stayed focused on his paperwork. “She’s your backup. I expect you two to get along.”
“What about testing?”
“She’ll take the car out for that too.”
“She blew up her last car.”
“If Samantha has to ride with her and show her what to look for, she will.” Paddy glanced up and caught Brad’s scowl. “You have a problem with that, young man?”
“No problem as long as she keeps it professional.” Brad cl
enched his jaw.
“Why wouldn’t she keep it professional?”
“She’s an opportunist. Gets what she wants and then gets out.”
Paddy dropped his pen and pushed back in his chair. “And you’re not?”
“We’re not talking about me.”
“If my little girl didn’t like to stick thorns in my side, she wouldn’t even be seeing you. Would she?”
“That may be the way it started. But…”
“But what, young man? I see how you treat her. Do you want to be getting into that now?” Even though Sam didn’t think so, his attention spanned more than just the racetrack.
“No,” Brad said.
“Then let’s be rid of the whole conversation, shall we?”
“Yeah, whatever. I’d like to be rid of Drew Thompson.” Brad pulled hard at the old wooden office door until it flew open, hit the wall, and bounced back at him.
As Paddy watched Brad storm across the garage, the tiny hairs on the back of Paddy’s neck stiffened against his collar. If a killer was indeed on the loose, his first suspect would be the man that had just left his office—the driver who out of succession was now filling his number-one slot. Detective Drew Thompson might be an inconvenience, but Paddy wasn’t about to let Samantha be the next victim in this bizarre series of so-called accidents.
* * *
The hot water felt good as Drew let it rain across her shoulders. She had just run the circuit of exercise machines in the gym located in the California Highway Patrol Office in San Francisco. She wanted to keep her body primed. Racing took a lot of strength and stamina. She hadn’t had much time to recuperate from her last undercover assignment. She’d thought she was going to be a boxing trainer, but she’d gotten screwed again. The captain set her up as a sparring partner instead, and she was still recovering.
Keeping in shape was a plus because it gave her an advantage over the more seasoned detectives. But on the other hand, the old coots always gave her the tough assignments. That was her penance for trying to keep one step ahead of Mother Nature.
