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“Dalton said you were an insurance investigator now,” Jack interrupted. “Is that true?” How come you gave up racing?”
And there it was, question number two. Because I felt like it, asshole. She tried to smile, but her lips were frozen. Her gaze met Dalton’s across the garage, and she shivered. Those gray eyes were pure steel at the moment, and she was sure he’d like nothing more than to pulverize her. “I work for Global Insurance as an investigator.” She hoped he didn’t notice she hadn’t answered his other question.
Her stomach had gone into free fall. It was one thing to tell the team she was an insurance investigator, but telling Jack was like announcing it over the loudspeaker on race day. The world would know in less time than it took to make a lap on the track.
Not that she was ashamed of it, but she’d spent all those years racing and then simply walked away. To the racers she knew, being an insurance investigator must seem lackluster next to her previous career. Having to talk about racing and why she’d made the switch gagged her. It was no one’s business but hers, and yet everyone always wanted an explanation. Maybe they felt like they deserved one. It was weird.
“Why’d you leave racing?” Jack asked again. So much for hopes and prayers.
The man just stood there, making her nervous. It wasn’t like she’d thought no one would recognize her, but she hoped she would have a bit more time before someone came over and said something. She was proud of the fact she had done well in racing, but she was less proud of why she walked away. More accurate to say she was mortified about it. She squeezed her fingers into a fist. “It was just time.” That was her stock answer, and it was all Jack Roundtree was getting.
“Ms. Styger?” A man had come to stand beside them. He was tall and tanned, wearing a cashmere designer sweater and a pair of jeans with loafers, no socks. He had to be one of Moore’s friends who had traveled with him to Austria. There was no way this man had anything to do with racing. She recognized him as the man at the bar with the bad wine.
“Yes?”
“I’m Philip Lyle. You had asked to speak to us?” He pointed to a group of men now standing next to Dalton.
“Right. Give me a few minutes, and then I’d be happy to sit down and chat with all of you.”
He nodded and headed back over to the group.
She turned to Jack. “I’m sorry, Jack, but I have an investigation to complete.”
“So, you are investigating that driver’s death?”
“Yes,” she agreed. “And I need to get back to it. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” She offered him a dismissive smile and turned back to Kendra. “Sorry for all of the interruptions.”
Kendra nodded. “No problem. Are you… Did you used to race?”
Greer gave a small shrug. “A long time ago.”
“Oh.”
“Anyway, you were saying about Mr. Moore?” Greer prompted.
“Right. So, I brought over his water bottle to the mechanic while Mr. Moore was outside of his car, arguing on the phone.”
“Did he sound upset?”
Kendra nodded. “I’d say he was angry. He was pacing back and forth and yelling at whoever was on the phone. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but I got the impression someone did something he didn’t like.”
“But he was definitely agitated,” Greer confirmed.
“Yes, but I’ve heard he was that way a lot. He seemed upset the entire time he was here.”
“That’s all the questions I’ve got for now. Thanks for speaking with me.” She made a couple of notes in her book and then started across the garage. She stood in front of the screens for a moment and listened to all the activity around her. She’d missed this more than she’d realized. She ran her hand over the hood of the Cup car. It had been such a major part of her existence and she’d given it up so suddenly that she’d never really given herself a chance to mourn it. It had been too painful.
And now here she was again. It was time to face the music. Seeing Jack Roundtree had driven the point home. She could no longer hide from her past. She had to embrace it. Come to terms with it and move on. That meant facing up to all of it. Including Dalton. She let out a sigh and walked over to stand beside the men seated near the coffee machine.
Dalton glared at her. She had no idea why he was upset now. She hadn’t done anything but her job. He could like it or lump it. It didn’t matter to her. Much. She decided to ignore him and keep going.
She spoke to Philip Lyle. “I just have a few questions if now is an okay time.”
Philip nodded and then made room for her on the bench. Three other men were there, drinking coffee. Two appeared about the same age as Phillip, but one was younger. The picnic table where they were seated was covered with a black cloth. As she sat down, Dalton walked away. She stared out at the rain that had started falling a few minutes ago. It looked like it was picking up. She was glad she’d worn her navy cashmere sweater and jeans. She pulled her black jacket tighter around her shoulders. Spring was definitely not warm in Austria this year.
She heard muffled voices behind her. Dalton was speaking to someone, but she didn’t dare turn and look. She wasn’t prepared to engage with him at this point. Not in front of anyone. Unfortunately, he was standing in front of the coffee machine. She would kill for a shot of caffeine right now.
She cleared her throat and began, “I wanted to speak to you about your friend.” She licked her suddenly dry lips.
