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“No,” she said again through gritted teeth. She’d had enough. The stress of the situation was bad enough, but him behaving like an idiot wasn’t helping. Her senses were in overdrive. and it had set her nerves jangling. “It’s not stupid. If you want the money, this is what has to happen. What’s stupid is your behavior. Get over yourself. It was seven years ago. You have to be over me by now. Surely your ego isn’t that fragile.”
His face went blank and his eyes turned the color of gun metal. She’d gone too far. Said too much. Challenged him, his manhood, and he didn’t like that. Not. One. Bit. Well, tough shit.
“What’s really going on here?” she demanded. “Everyone is saying heart attack, yet you’re pushing like there’s more to the story. It’s not a secret that you don’t want me here. Why? Anyone else would be thrilled I was here. You’re going to get a big cheque. I just have to ask a few questions. What’s really going on, Dalton?”
“A man died on my watch. I want the truth to come out.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “You used to know the importance of the truth. I wonder what changed.”
That one hit its mark, and she found herself breathless with pain. She closed her eyes briefly and reopened them. Maybe he was right. All they were doing was hurting each other. Maybe she should tell Frank about her past with these people. Maybe then he could find someone else to send to investigate. But then she’d have to tell him the whole story.
With a slight shake of her head, she decided not to make that call. One more day. She could do this. She would do this. She needed this. Owning her past was the only way to move forward. Even if it killed her.
“I think there’s more to Moore’s death, but you’re not being honest with me. I’m going to stay and find the truth, and then I’ll be gone. That’s it. That’s all. Accept it, and we can move on.
“So, it is true,” Karl Claasen said as he came bursting into the garage. “It is you!”
They both turned in time to see him wipe the water out of his eyes.
“I was a big fan of yours, Ms. Styger. I know your father. We all met him when we were in Las Vegas for the big Car Classic.” He glanced at Dalton as if to say, aren’t you going to introduce me?
“Karl Claasen, Claasen Racing, Greer Styger.”
“Hello,” Greer said as she grabbed her coffee with her right hand so she wouldn’t have to shake his. Petty? Maybe. But she had no interest in chatting with anyone who led with the fact they knew her father.
“You didn’t go to the Car Classic, Dalton, but we were there along with Jack and Clyde and a few of the other teams. Your father was there,” he said to Greer, “with several of his classic race cars. Dennis Moore and his wife and Brian were there, too, along with his friends. Dennis chatted with your father. He was trying to buy a car off him.”
“I see.” The fact the dead man knew her father seemed weird, but irrelevant. Everyone knew her father.
“Are you here for a visit? Are you thinking of racing in the European Cup? I would like a chance to speak with you if you are interested. My team?—”
“Let me stop you right there Mr. Claasen?—”
“Karl, please.”
“I’m here on business. I’ve been out of racing for quite a few years now, but I thank you for the offer.”
Claasen frowned. “Business you say? What are you here for? Jack had said you were an insurance investigator, but I just can’t imagine.”
She shot him a look. “Well, it’s true.”
“Insurance,” he mumbled. “Dalton, you have insurance on your drivers?”
Dalton didn’t say anything, but Claasen took the silence as affirmative.
Claasen’s lips turned into a flat line, and his face lost all expression. “I see. That’s a surprise.” And, from his expression, not a welcome one. “Well, nice to meet you.” With that, he turned on his heel and went back out into the rain.
“What the hell was that about?” Greer asked, looking back at Dalton.
“He’s not my biggest fan because we’re his biggest competition. He wants to see us fail. You know how rumors spread. Everyone is whispering that he needs to do very well to keep his team going. Anything that might help Hughes Racing is a major problem for him.”
“Huh,” she said and then took a final swig of her coffee. Swallowing, she stood up and put her cup in the recycling bin. “I have to interview the rest of your team. Do you want to help me, or are you content to let me interview them and I’ll tell you what I find?”
He stared at her. Then he cocked his head and said, “Let me show you something first.” He stood and went out into the rain, not even looking over his shoulder to see if she was following.
That had not been what she’d expected. Whatever he wanted to show her must be significant. But how? With a jerky start, she hustled after him. This whole trip was shaping up to become catastrophic in so many ways. She needed to pull the plug. Self-preservation should be kicking in, but as she stepped out into the rain, she knew she’d follow Dalton Hughes anywhere he wanted to lead. And that was the scariest thought ever.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Dalton entered the crowded trailer with Greer on his heels. Everyone was in there going over data from the morning sessions.
