Dead and Gone

by Jack Patterson

  “I’m almost there. I ran into a little trouble.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Don’t worry about me. You relax and don’t get stressed out. Your baby doesn’t need all that.”

  “I don’t need all this. And I’m hoping you can put my mind at ease real soon.”

  “Just sit tight. I’ll be there in about five minutes.”

  He hung up and put his phone away.

  Cal watched the cars continue to stream in and out of the parking lot. Occasional honks and screams rose above the constant melodies rising from the concert stage a few hundred yards away. Then Cal turned his attention toward RV city, where smoke swirled upward intermittently from the small fires warming fans who remained outside in the cool desert air.

  He looked at his screen and started to walk toward the GPS location Jessica had texted him.

  Glancing up infrequently to make sure he didn’t wander into the path of a vehicle or a bike taxi, Cal was staring down when he felt a firm hand slam into his chest.

  Cal looked up. It was a Maricopa County Sheriff’s deputy.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” the deputy asked.

  Cal scanned the area, unsure if he’d actually been caught.

  “Sir, I was just going to meet some friends in RV city.”

  “What’s your name?”

  Cal bit his lip. “Jim Waltrip.”

  “Jim Waltrip? THE Jim Waltrip?” The deputy gaped at him in disbelief.

  While the Waltrip name might be royalty, Cal had no idea that there was a well-known Jim. Or maybe there wasn’t and it just sounded famous to the deputy. Either way, it didn’t matter as long as he let him go and didn’t ask to look at his license.

  “I gotta see this for myself,” the deputy said as he chuckled. “Can I see your license?”

  Cal put his hands all over his body and patted himself down before morphing his face into a scowl.

  “I must’ve left it in the hauler,” Cal said.

  The deputy eyed him closely. “Is that so?”

  “I can go fetch it for you, if you like.”

  The deputy didn’t move and appeared deep in thought for a moment. “Look, just sign this for me and we’ll call it good.”

  Cal scratched his first autograph onto the back of the deputy’s citation pad and handed it back to him.

  The deputy stepped aside and gestured forward with his left hand. “Have a nice evening, Mr. Waltrip.”

  Cal tipped his hat and kept walking. He wanted to look back, still in disbelief that he got away with it.

  He was still within earshot when he heard one of the other deputies exclaim, “Jim Waltrip? There’s nobody famous named Jim Waltrip, you idiot.”

  Cal quickened his pace as he turned down one of the alleys leading into RV city.

  “Hey, wait! Come back here!” the deputy called.

  Cal didn’t heed his request, tossing his hat aside instead and weaving his way through RV city and toward Jessica.

  CHAPTER 46

  NED DAVIS HUFFED as he climbed the steps of the Davis Motorsports Team hauler. He opened the door and cracked his knuckles while he scanned the truck.

  He stomped up the stairs and ripped open the door to the meeting room to find Alexa and Owen Burns sitting at the room’s lone table.

  Alexa looked up at him and smiled. “Is everything all right, honey?”

  Davis slammed his fist on the table. “What the hell is goin’ on here?”

  She stood up and never took her gaze off his eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “I just got a text from the security guard—the guy I pay extra on the side to keep an eye on what happens around here.” Davis pulled out his phone and swiped a few times before hoisting it to eye level. “And this is what he sent me.”

  Alexa stared at the screen, a snapshot of her kissing the driver for the Cashman hauler. “It’s not what you think.”

  “Oh, it’s not, is it? And what’s this?” He gestured toward Burns. “Are you trying to score with everyone tonight?”

  Burns put his hands up. “It’s not like that, Ned. I needed her help.”

  “Her help to do what? Piss me off?”

  Burns stood up and put his hand on Davis’ shoulder. “Just calm down and let us explain. It’s not like that.”

  “Of course, it’s not like that. It’s never like that when you get caught. I can smell a snake a mile away.”

  Burns shook his head. “No, you’re reading this all wrong.”

  “The only thing that’s wrong here is that you’re still employed by me. But I can fix that right now. You’re fired. Now, get outta here.”

  Burns sighed. “Oh, come on, Ned. That’s not what’s going on here, and you know it. I’d never do anything like that to you.”

  Davis chuckled and pointed at Alexa. “But she would.” He turned his gaze toward her again. “You little tramp.”

  Burns stepped between Davis and Alexa. “Just calm down, Ned. Give us a chance to explain.”

  “I’m sorry. Were you talking to me? You’re fired. Now get out of my sight.”

  Burns took off his cap and ran his fingers through his hair. “You’re making a big mistake.”

  “The only mistake I ever made was trusting you. Now leave before I go get security.”

  Burns snatched the tape and a thumb drive off the table and headed for the door.

  “Wait,” Davis said. “What is that in your hand?”

  Burns turned around slowly. “I’m sorry. Were you talkin’ to me? Because you’re not my boss anymore and I’ve gotta get outta here before you call security.”

  Davis snatched Burns’ access badge from around his neck. “This isn’t funny.”

  “I’m not laughing. But good luck tomorrow. You and your two-bit driver are gonna need it.”

  “Holmes will do a fine job.”

  “At finishing last,” Burns muttered. He slammed the door as he left.

  Davis turned and grabbed Alexa’s arm. “How dare you disrespect me like that! You’re an embarrassment.”

  Alexa jerked her arm back and rolled her eyes. “If there’s anyone who is an embarrassment right now, it’s you.”

  He sneered as he stared her up and down. “You’re pathetic.”

  She sat down and shook her head. “And tomorrow, you’ll be through. No one will ever race for you again—if you even have a team.”

  CHAPTER 47

  KELLY CLENCHED HER PHONE and hit redial as she navigated the streets of downtown Charlotte. This wasn’t how she expected her Saturday night to go. With Maddie at her mother’s, Kelly had anticipated a time of relaxing on the couch with some nice wine and a romantic mystery. Instead, the evening had devolved into hiding from an intruder, smashing him in the head with a frying pan, and trying to prove her husband wasn’t a spend-a-holic who spent his free time on the road in strip clubs.

  So much for the quiet evening.

  She swerved off I-277 and onto the College Street exit.

  Come on, Cal. What is your problem? Answer your phone.

  Even dialing Cal’s apparent new number, she couldn’t get him to pick up. Her frustration turned to fear as her tires screeched while pulling into The Observer parking lot.

  She hopped out of her car and hustled toward the front door, tapping on the glass to get the security guard’s attention.

  “Can I help you, miss?” the guard asked after he unlocked the door.

  “I need to speak to Marc Folsom, the sports editor,” she said.

  The guard held up his index finger. “Wait just one minute.”

  After what felt like five minutes to Kelly, the guard returned and opened the door. “He just finished for the night and told me to send you up.”

  The guard gave Kelly directions to the news department and how to find Folsom before relocking the front door.

  She stepped onto the elevator and rubbed the thumb drive in her right hand. The idea of sitting on the couch and reading served to be a far more al
luring idea, especially at the moment. But Cal needed her—right now. She tried to suppress any thoughts of what he might be doing or how challenging life might be after getting falsely accused of doing something, even if it wasn’t the first time.

  In fact, Cal’s life seemed to be a repetitious pattern of bad to worse. Nothing ever ran smoothly for him. It didn’t bother Kelly too much. She knew what she was getting into when she signed up to marry him: an exciting life of adventure and not much stability. At the time, she didn’t consider how she might want stability later on, choosing to dwell on the tantalizing adventure that awaited them. Yet she had to admit that taking flash drives down to his office at 11 o’clock at night to save his job wasn’t exactly what she had in mind.

  Stay calm, Kelly. Just stay calm.

  The moment the elevator doors opened, she noticed Folsom standing across the newsroom joking with a colleague. She glanced at her reflection in the stainless steel elevator wall before stepping out. Even through the gross distortion, she could tell her cheeks were red—fire red.

  She stormed across the room, toward Folsom. He never saw her coming.

  “I’ve got half a mind to slug you into next week,” Kelly said.

  The employee talking with Folsom glanced at Kelly and excused himself.

  “Now, Kelly—” Folsom began.

  “No, there’s no Kelly anything. I can’t believe you had the audacity to fall for some half-wit amateurish prank—and all right in the middle of the biggest story your paper’s covered in the past decade.”

  Folsom took a few steps back. “Let’s take this into my office.”

  Kelly slapped a file folder on top of a desk to the left of Folsom. “No, we’re doing this right here. You fired him publicly and I’m gonna clear his name publicly.”

  He put his hands out in a gesture of surrender. “Okay, Kelly. Please, calm down. I’m on your side.”

  “I hardly believe that. I don’t care what you say.”

  “Believe what you must, but I want to get Cal reinstated as much as you do.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I doubt that.” She pointed at the file. “It’s all there.”

  He opened the folder. “What exactly am I looking at?”

  “Several things. First, there’s an enlarged printout of the digital file you were sent. I circled the areas that indicate it’s a fake.”

  Folsom looked at it closely and nodded.

  “Then there’s our personal credit card receipt that is time stamped at the exact same time these credit card purchases were supposedly made. Somebody had to steal his card or the card number.”

  He nodded. “What else?”

  She picked up another sheet of paper and handed it to him. “These are our phone records, indicating that at the time Cal was supposedly gallivanting around Phoenix, he was on the phone with me. Cal’s got guts, but even if he ever did think about going to a strip club—which he wouldn’t—he’d never have the courage to call me from one.”

  Folsom rubbed his chin with his free hand. “You seem pretty adamant he wouldn’t do this.”

  “Cal likes being married to me.”

  He chuckled and closed the folder. “I can’t really argue with anything in here. Let me talk to my publisher in the morning about this and we’ll see what we can do.”

  Kelly stamped her foot. “No. You’ll do it now.” She reached over and picked up a phone off the hook and shoved it into Folsom’s hands.

  She stepped off to the side and let Folsom call his publisher to deliver the news.

  After several moments of what looked like Folsom pleading, he finally smiled and hung up.

  “Good news, Kelly. The publisher has decided to temporarily reinstate Cal until we can undergo a full evaluation. And to be honest, I’ll be surprised if anything more is ever said of this.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “Oh, something more better be said of it—like an apology to Cal in front of the entire newsroom. I can’t believe this kind of ridiculousness goes on here. You’d skewer any financial entity you cover that fired a star employee without cause. Don’t suddenly act like you can just sweep this under the rug.”

  “Okay, Kelly. I get it. You think Cal was set up by someone and wronged by us. We’ll do our best to make it right.”

  She sighed. “You better. Cal would sweat blood to get you a breaking story first.”

  “I know. I’ll let you deliver the good news to him. Hopefully, you can convey how much I appreciate him when you speak with him.”

  “I’d love to tell him right now—if only he’d pick up his phone.”

  Kelly spun and turned toward the elevator at the opposite end of the room.

  Once she reached her car, she climbed inside and dialed Cal’s number again. After the second ring, he answered.

  “Where have you been?” she asked.

  “Long story. I’ve been trying to get ahold of you. Are you okay?”

  “Long story. But I’m alive. Let’s just say your panic room and monitoring equipment proved rather handy tonight.”

  “Where’s Maddie?”

  “She’s with my mom. No need to worry. It was weekend with grandma.”

  Cal sighed. “That’s a relief.”

  “Yeah, so here’s what you need to know. I think the culprit is J.T. Beaumont—or at least somehow connected to him.”

  “Beaumont? Really?”

  “Yeah, it was his cousin Clint Beaumont who was stalking me.”

  “How’d you find all this out?”

  “I called one of your FBI buddies and he told me who owned the car of the man who was parked outside our house.”

  “And you found out he was Beaumont’s cousin after that?”

  “Well, I verified it was the same guy by checking the driver’s license in his wallet after I knocked him out with a frying pan.”

  “You did what?”

  “Like I said, long story. Anyway, I did a quick search on Clint Beaumont and came across an article talking about how he and Beaumont used to race on a local dirt track circuit—and it mentioned they were cousins.”

  “Good work, detective.”

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m talking to Jessica Tanner right now. She was threatened by some thugs about some supposed gambling debt her husband had. I wish I had more time to tell you about it.”

  “I wanna hear all about it when you get home. But I actually called to give you some good news.”

  “Oh? What’s that?”

  “You’re temporarily reinstated.”

  “Temporarily?”

  “It’s not all great news, but Folsom called the publisher and said they’d investigate when you got back, after seeing all the evidence I presented. Plus, those photos were fake.”

  “Thanks, honey. I appreciate you believing in me.”

  She didn’t say anything.

  Cal took a deep breath. “You do believe in me, don’t you?”

  She waited for a moment again. “Cal Murphy, if you ever go to a strip club—” She broke out into a laugh.

  “That’s not funny, Kelly.”

  “Of course, I believe in you, Cal. Now be safe and go find out why Beaumont would want to murder Carson Tanner — and silence you.”

  “I think the answer’s pretty obvious.”

  “It’s never obvious, Cal.”

  ***

  CAL HUNG UP and turned to Jessica, who sat hunched over on a couch. She chewed her fingernails and stared through the window at the party-like atmosphere just outside.

  “Anything?” she said.

  “Yeah, that was my wife. A couple of good things. One, I’m reinstated, so I actually have an outlet to report this story. And two, Beaumont’s cousin was the one monitoring her at our house in North Carolina tonight. It seems at least that J.T. Beaumont was involved somehow.”

  “And the bad?”

  “I’m sort of a fugitive after I borrowed a rental car without proper authorization while somebody was trying to kill me. W
e need to return that car tonight before I become the subject of a manhunt.”

  “Is that all?” She stood up. “Let’s go to the authorities with this right now and tell them the truth.”

  “It’s not that simple, Jessica. We’ve got two people we need to take down—the person who sabotaged Carson’s car and the person who’s trying to get money out of you.”

  “And you think we can deliver proof to the police?”

  “We’ve gotta try. If we don’t make sure both these guys go to jail, you’ll never be safe.”

  CHAPTER 48

  EARLY SUNDAY MORNING, Owen Burns adjusted his Davis Motor Sports cap and waved at the guard standing by the tram stop just outside Phoenix International Raceway. The guard had been stationed there every morning and recognized Burns and his gear; he didn’t even take the time to ask for his credential. Burns slipped past him and walked underneath the tunnel leading to the track infield.

  He said hello to several of his friends who’d been on the circuit for as long as he had. If it weren’t race day, they would’ve struck up a conversation with him. But now wasn’t the time for small talk—it was time to focus in on the task at hand: winning.

  However, Burns had a different task in mind.

  Since his sudden firing, he managed to make several copies of the video depicting the tampering, complete with a time stamp. He’d have no problem causing a stir once he convinced a few journalists to look at the video. His biggest challenge was staring him in the face.

  “I’m sorry, sir, where’s your pass?” said the guard positioned by the garage gate.

  Burns tapped his chest with his hands and then patted his pockets. “Aww, man. I must’ve left it at the hotel.”

  “Better hustle back.”

  “Seriously?” Burns stared him down. “I’ve got a job to do and I don’t have time to run back to the hotel.”

  “I’d sure hate to have an absent-minded crew member like you working on my car.”

  “Hey, buddy, better stop with the wise cracks. I’ll get someone over here in a minute.”

  The guard folded his arms and stared at Burns. “Go ahead, tough guy. I’ve got all day.” The guard waved a few more crew members through.

  Burns turned to one of the men walking through the gate. “Cory, can you vouch for me? This guy thinks I’m trying to sneak in.”