Dead and Gone

by Jack Patterson

  Cory turned and nodded. “He’s legit.”

  The guard snarled. “I don’t care who vouches for you or if you’re the NASCAR president’s son. No pass, no entry. Got it?”

  Burns seethed as he turned and stared at Rattlesnake Hill already filling up with spectators. He considered a new approach.

  “Look, how do you think I even got in here? One of the guards recognized me from being here all week and didn’t have a problem with it.”

  The guard stroked his chin. “And that’s why he’s out there and I’m here. They put the best guards on this gate. Now scram back to your hotel and get your pass or beat it. I don’t care.”

  Forget this.

  Burns shifted to the side and sprinted through the gate past the guard. He didn’t get more than twenty feet before his legs buckled and he crashed to the ground under the weight of the guard.

  The guard stood up and yanked Burns up to his feet. “Let’s go, buddy.”

  “Get your hands off of me,” Burns said. He pulled the tape out of his pocket. “I’ve got proof of who killed Carson Tanner.”

  “Save it, will ya?” the guard said as he refused to release a fistful of Burns’ shirt.

  “Ned Davis is covering this up. Carson Tanner was murdered!”

  “Enough!” the guard said. He marched Burns out of the gate. The scene created enough of a distraction that Burns heard the rumor mill cranking up around him.

  “Did you see that?”

  “Is that Owen Burns?”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Is he drunk?”

  The guard radioed for assistance and requested that someone escort Burns off the premises.

  Burns hung his head and boarded the tram under the watchful eye of the guard. Once they reached the outside, the guard shoved him off the tram and told him not to come back until he had proper credentials.

  “This ain’t no Mickey Mouse show,” the guard growled at Burns.

  ***

  JACKSON HOLMES WALKED into the Davis Motorsports Team trailer and began looking over the checklist. He’d always dreamed of an opportunity to serve as a crew chief, though he never anticipated it coming in a situation like this.

  Ned Davis walked into the trailer with two cups of coffee in his hand. “Long night?”

  Holmes nodded. “Just wanted to make sure I’ve got everything ready to go here.” Davis handed him a coffee. “I really appreciate the opportunity, sir.”

  “Well, you’ve been a faithful member of this crew and the one with the least amount of baggage. I figured it couldn’t hurt to give you a shot with these last two races this season and see how you handle everything.”

  “I’ll do my best. I don’t know if I can do any better than Burns.”

  Davis chuckled. “Let’s hope so. He was always the problem.”

  “You think so?”

  “Absolutely. And if you ask me, he’s gone a little nutty lately.”

  “How so?”

  “He’s convinced that all those reports are true about someone on this team sabotaging the car last week. I know all of you guys—and he’s the only one I’d ever suspect.”

  “Yeah, he’s been acting a little strange this week. I even saw him screaming outside the garage this morning.”

  “Burns?”

  “Yeah, he tried to sneak past a guard, who took him down. The whole time Burns was screaming something about having proof that that car was sabotaged. He was waving something in his hand.”

  “Thanks, Holmes. I’ll take care of this. You just focus on the race.”

  Holmes stared at his checklist while he strained to hear Davis, who’d stepped a few feet away and was talking softly into his phone.

  “Burns is still out there and causing trouble,” Davis said. “He took a tape from here last night and is claiming he has proof that Tanner’s car was sabotaged last week.” A pause. “I need you to take care of it.”

  Holmes swallowed hard and tried to focus on his list.

  CHAPTER 49

  FLANKED BY JESSICA, Cal settled into a chair across from Deputy Livingston’s desk. Cal straightened the stapler hanging cockeyed off the desk and moved the nameplate flush with the edge. He glanced around the office for the deputy but didn’t see him.

  Cal reached for the deputy’s coffee mug and felt it. “It’s pretty warm,” he said to Jessica. “He’s not going to leave this here for long.”

  A few moments later, Deputy Livingston emerged from a room down the hall and strode toward his desk.

  Cal stood up, as did Jessica. They both offered their hands as they greeted him.

  “Have a seat,” Livingston said. Everyone sat down and the deputy began scanning a folder on his desk.

  He closed the folder and folded his hands. “So, what brings you two down here today?”

  “I told you we’d talk soon,” Cal said.

  “You did, but you didn’t tell me what about. I’m hoping this has something to do with Ronald Parker.”

  “It does, but there are also some other things involved.”

  “Such as?”

  “Such as last night’s manhunt for me.”

  “Come again?”

  Cal cleared his throat and sat up straight. “Last night, I borrowed a rental car—which I’ve already returned, I might note—when someone was trying to kill me.”

  Livingston’s eyes narrowed. “Why didn’t you go to the authorities?”

  “Long story, but I didn’t have time. The people after me were watching my wife and threatened to kill her if I talked to you about it.”

  “And now it’s suddenly okay?”

  “My wife handled things on her end—with a cast-iron skillet. But that’s not the main reason why we’re here.”

  Livingston pulled his handcuffs off his belt and placed them on his desk. “I heard about that chase last night. Why shouldn’t I charge and book you right now since you’ve admitted to this?”

  “Well, I think it’d be a waste of your time and resources since the car was never stolen, I returned it and paid for a day’s rental plus gas—and I think you’d rather bust the Goldini gambling ring.”

  “Wait a minute. What does any of this have to do with the Goldini family?”

  “Are you a NASCAR fan?”

  Livingston shook his head.

  “Me neither. But I am a conspiracy nut—and there are plenty of stories about the Goldini family and how they’ve made numerous attempts to infiltrate NASCAR.”

  “They always skate.”

  “Yeah, but I think you can take out some of their people today if you’re interested—and solve the Ronald Parker murder in one fell swoop.”

  Livingston pulled out a folder from his desk and opened it. “Ronald Parker died of a snake bite—at least that’s the initial assessment from the coroner.”

  “I doubt that’s entirely true.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Cal took a deep breath. “I think Parker was a gambler and owed a big debt to the Goldini family.”

  “And what makes you think that? It’s not like they keep books out in the open.”

  Jessica leaned forward. “Because the same people who tried to get money out of me from a debt Carson apparently ran up before he died had to be the same people who came looking for Ron Parker the night he died.”

  “Perhaps.” Livingston eyed them both closely. “How do you both know all of this?”

  Cal cleared his throat. “It’s a long story, but I’ve been doing some investigating of my own related to something else—and these loose threads seem to be forming a sinister tapestry.”

  “Interesting,” Livington said. “I’ve got something I want to show you.”

  He disappeared for a few minutes and returned holding an evidence bag containing a cell phone.

  “What’s this?” Cal asked.

  “Ron Parker’s cell phone.”

  “And why am I looking at it?”

  “We found one on him that had been destro
yed with the sim card removed. But we found this one hidden in his car.”

  “What’s on it?”

  “I was hoping you could tell us.”

  Cal’s mouth hung agape. He replayed it for Jessica, who started to cry.

  “Can I get a copy of this?” Cal asked.

  “Sure. Just message yourself one right now.”

  Cal pressed a few buttons. “Thanks.”

  “So what were you saying about loose sinister threads? Does this video figure into any of this?”

  “It might. And this video might help me prove it. And if I’m right, you won’t have to wait long to bust the Goldinis.”

  “And how exactly are we gonna do that?”

  Cal smiled. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  CHAPTER 50

  IT WAS ONLY 9 A.M. and Cal felt like he’d already worked a full day. But there was no time to waste. All the players were converging at the track—or at least, they would be once his plan was fully set into motion. He felt like he’d spent the past few days in a fog, but he knew it would clear in a few hours if they could pull this off.

  Cal walked through the gate leading to the garage area and watched all the cars undergoing their final pre-race tune-ups. He spied Sylvia Yates talking on her cell phone just outside the Davis Motorsports Team hauler.

  “Good morning, Sylvia,” he said with a smile.

  She shook her head. “I wish I could say it was good.” She shook his hand.

  “Why? What’s going on?”

  “Davis fired Burns last night and replaced him with Jackson Holmes.”

  “He did what?”

  “You heard me. And nobody knows why at this point—but apparently everybody on press row already found out.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Burns was escorted off the property, ranting and raving like a madman. Something about how he had a video that proved Carson Tanner’s car was sabotaged.”

  Cal bit his lip and decided against tipping his hand about what he knew. “That’s too bad.”

  She glanced back at him. “Too bad? I thought you’d be all over him by now since you’ve been hawking that story.”

  “I’ve had other issues to deal with lately. Personal issues.”

  She nodded. “Fair enough. So, you ready to interview the rising star, J.T. Beaumont?”

  “Absolutely.”

  She started walking toward the hauler. “Okay, just keep it brief. He’s got a sponsorship event in twenty minutes and he can’t be late.”

  “Got it.”

  He walked into the hauler and she introduced him to Beaumont before exiting.

  Cal wasted no time with pleasantries—nor did he resemble anything pleasant.

  He lunged at Beaumont and put hands around his neck. “I don’t know who you think you are, but I swear to God you’re gonna pay for what you did.” He shoved Beaumont once more before backing up.

  Beaumont glared at him. “I don’t know who you think you are, but how dare you come at me like that. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Oh, really? Why don’t you give your cousin a call—you know, the one who was staked outside my house last night, the same one who fired a bullet into my house.”

  Beaumont rolled his eyes and waved off Cal. “You’re crazy, man. Again, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Cal lunged at him again, this time kneeing Beaumont in the crotch. “I’ve got little patience for this stunt you’re trying to pull.”

  “Hit me again and the cops will have to drag me off you.”

  Cal leaned in and prepared to take a punch. “Great. I dare you. It’ll just lend more credence to my story that I’m about to publish. The one about how you orchestrated the sabotaging of Carson Tanner’s car just to get this opportunity—and now you’re trying to keep me quiet.”

  “You really have lost it.”

  “You’re gonna lose everything by the time I’m done with you.”

  “Look, man, I don’t know what your problem is, but you’re crazy, okay? It’s time for you to leave because I’ve got a job to do and some real interviews—and I don’t appreciate getting threatened.”

  Cal knew he’d crossed too many lines but needed to draw a reaction out of Beaumont before his opportunity was gone. Everything was hinging on this—or so he thought.

  He pulled his phone out of his pocket and showed a picture to Beaumont. “Recognize this guy?” Cal asked. It was a photo Kelly had snapped and sent to him of Beaumont’s cousin after she’d knocked him out.

  Beaumont pulled back and his eyes widened as he looked at the photo. He said nothing.

  “That’s what I thought,” Cal said. “That was what my wife did to him. Now he’s in jail.”

  Finally, Beaumont broke. “Look, man, I was just trying to scare you. I didn’t mean anything by it. I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt.”

  “Oh, really? The only people who really got hurt are your people—and my back, which didn’t enjoy the ride in the trunk.”

  “I just told them to rough you up a bit. I didn’t know they were going to do all that.”

  Cal seethed as he plotted his next words. “You didn’t know they were going to shoot at my wife? That is beyond ridiculous. I don’t believe a word out of your mouth.”

  Beaumont stepped back. “Honest, man. I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone.”

  Cal poked his finger into Beaumont’s chest. “The only thing I want to know now is who you paid to sabotage Carson Tanner’s car last week.”

  “Now, you’ve gone off the reservation. I had nothing to do with that. Nothing.”

  “And why should I believe you now, since you’ve already spent the last five minutes lying to me?”

  “Because it’s the truth. Look, racing is a like a big fraternity. We don’t always like each other, but nobody wants to see anyone end up dead, certainly not Carson Tanner. He was a good dude.”

  “So, why’d you threaten me like this?”

  “I never meant to hurt you. But your story had the potential to blow up this team and I’ve waited a long time to get a shot to drive at this level. I didn’t want you screwin’ it up with some muckraking report.”

  Cal pulled his phone out of pocket, displaying a large red circle and a timer ticking upward. “Looks like you just did it for yourself.”

  Beaumont reached for Cal’s phone. Cal pulled it back and grabbed a wrench lying next to a toolbox. “Don’t make me turn you into a clone of your cousin.”

  “I’m gonna hunt you down. You better never let your guard down.”

  “I’ll be ready. Don’t you worry,” Cal said.

  Beaumont turned and exited the hauler.

  Cal waited for a few moments before following him. Sylvia Yates’ eyes were wide as her gaze met Cal’s.

  “What was that all about?” she asked.

  “You don’t wanna know. But I’ll tell you this—and I say this with the greatest sympathy—I just made your life hell.”

  CHAPTER 51

  JACKSON HOLMES GLANCED around the garage area at the hive of activity at the hauler. He looked back down at his checklist and continued to move through it methodically. A door slamming shut startled him and he shot a look toward the hauler again to see Beaumont storming off and Sylvia Yates following after him while trying to talk back over her shoulder to Cal Murphy.

  “What’s goin’ on over there?” Dirt asked as the commotion gave him reason to pause from his detailed work.

  “Beats me,” Holmes said.

  “It’s like we’ve turned into a damned soap opera around here,” Dirt said before returning to his duties.

  “Ain’t that the truth?”

  Holmes bit his lip and appeared to look at the engine, while stealing glances beneath the cover of his cap at Beaumont storming away.

  Russ Ross tugged on the safety harness inside the car. Once he pulled his head out, he caught Holmes staring in Beaumont’s direction.

  “He’ll have his head in
the race,” Ross said. “Don’t you worry.”

  “I’m not. Anything will beat Tanner’s pre-game antics, tryin’ to hug the neck of every sick kid in a three-state area everywhere we went.”

  “That had nothin’ to do with it,” Ross said. “He just couldn’t drive—period. Huggin’ necks or not.”

  Holmes shook his head. “I hope that’s all it was. And I hope Beaumont’s ready. We may not win a championship, but I want us to end this season with a bang.”

  “Speakin’ of explosions, here comes Alexa,” Dirt said.

  “I heard that,” she said as she sauntered up to the car. She bent down and stuck her head over the engine, right next to Dirt’s. She then made a clucking noise with her tongue as she pulled her head out from beneath the hood. “You might want to check this again,” she said, gesturing toward the area where Dirt was working. “I don’t trust this guy.”

  Dirt huffed and rolled his eyes. Holmes didn’t move.

  “He’s been known to miss a few things here and there,” she said.

  Holmes waved dismissively. “I trust him. Why don’t you let us handle the big boy stuff here and you go back to doing what you do best—whatever that is.”

  She shot him a look. “You mean, let you handle it like you did last week?”

  “Knock it off, Alexa,” Ross said. “We don’t need this—not now or ever.”

  “Yes, Alexa, we have to work to do,” Holmes said. “So, if you’ll excuse us—”

  She tossed her head back and flipped her hair over her shoulders. “Don’t worry. I’ll go for now. But I’ll be back soon enough—sooner than you’d like, I promise.”

  CHAPTER 52

  JESSICA TANNER FIDGETED with the wire running along the inside of her bra. She stopped and stared at the FBI agent holding his hands out to help her. She swatted him away.

  “I got this,” she said. “Can you give me some privacy here?” She situated the wire and smoothed out her shirt.

  The agent backed away and sat across from her on a couch in the RV. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

  She crossed her legs and took a deep breath. “Not really, but it’s the only way I’m ever gonna get any peace.”