Dead and Gone by Jack Patterson (universal ebook reader .TXT) 📕

hold his line was a driver that was destined to succeed.

Davis put a tick by Austin Andrews’ name, as he drove with precision. He didn’t have to check the times to know that Andrews was the fastest driver so far.

Perhaps if Beaumont doesn’t work out …

A loud rapping on the side of his RV startled Davis. He glanced down from atop his RV to recognize Observer reporter Cal Murphy.

He leaned over the side. “Well, if it isn’t the great Cal Murphy.”

Cal nodded. “You’re too kind, Mr. Davis.”

“Call me Ned,” he said as he climbed down.

Cal continued. “Besides, you must not read the comments below my stories posted on the Internet. I can assure you no one there is calling me great.”

Davis laughed. “I never read that stuff. It’s just a waste of time.” He finished climbing down the ladder and jumped off the last step, landing flat-footed. “So, what do you want to talk about today?”

Cal looked down. “Not happy stuff I’m afraid. I wanna talk about Carson Tanner.”

“I expected as much.”

“I’m actually surprised to see you here.”

Davis shook his head. “I don’t mourn well. I hate funerals. The only one I’d go to might be my wife’s—if I actually have one who dies first. Most of them can’t wait for me to die and just try to take all my money now.” He laughed and slapped Cal on the arm. “Know what I mean?”

“Must be a tough life.”

“It is, especially when you’re as rich as I am and you’re trying to figure out who genuinely cares about you and who’s just after your money.”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that.”

Davis chuckled. “Good. More money, more problems. That’s what I say. But I’m not interested in going back, if you know what I’m sayin’. They’re mostly good problems to have—mostly.”

“We all have our problems,” Cal said.

“Yes, we do. And one of yours is probably a deadline. So, let’s step inside here.” Davis motioned for Cal to proceed into the hauler.

Once inside, Davis led Cal through the narrow passageway leading to the largest meeting space on the truck. It was just large enough for a couple of couches, which surrounded the perimeter. Cal took a seat on one side and Davis settled in opposite him.

Davis dug a can of smokeless tobacco out of his back pocket and jammed a pinch of it between his lip and gum. He brushed his hands together and picked up a cup to spit into. “So, what do you wanna know about Carson Tanner?”

Cal shifted in his seat. “I guess my initial comment was misleading. I know plenty about Tanner. I’m interested in some other information.”

Davis spewed a stream of tobacco juice into his cup and cocked his head to the side. “Such as?”

“Did Carson Tanner have any enemies that you know of?”

Davis chuckled. “Well, this certainly isn’t the direction I thought you’d take for our interview. And to be honest, for a reporter who claims to know plenty about him, that seems like an absurd question.”

“Nevertheless, it begs to be answered.”

Davis sighed and shook his head. “Why do you guys have to dig up dirt on a dead man?”

“With all due respect, sir, I’m not trying to dig up dirt on Tanner. I’m merely trying to put to rest the idea that this was actually murder instead of an accident.”

Davis grunted and sat up straight. “Murder? What kind of cockamamie idea is that? Carson Tanner died in an accident on the track. It’s unfortunate, but it was in plain sight. Who’d even dare to suggest such a thing?”

Cal nodded. “I tend to agree with you, but I have a source that insinuated the accident wasn’t an accident at all, but a targeted attack.”

“Even if it was, how could anyone sabotage a car so dramatically? It’s impossible.”

“Maybe it was just good timing.”

“Bull. There was nothing about that accident that looked suspicious. Anyone who’s been around the sport very long knows what a stuck throttle looks like. It ain’t pretty when it happens, but we’ve all seen the footage of when it’s happened to drivers in the past. Thankfully, it hasn’t happened that often, but it’s unmistakable when it does.”

“Perhaps that was the point.”

Davis spit into his cup and leaned back. “You risk credibility when you levy accusations like this, Mr. Murphy. Nobody is going to believe you.”

“What if NASCAR learns something different?”

“They won’t because it was an accident. They’ll conclude what you already know deep down—that it was an accident.” He paused for a moment. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself for trying to create some scandalous story just to get more eyeballs on your article.”

“I assure you, Mr. Davis, my creativity does not extend to fabricating stories. I don’t deal well in the fiction genre. I stick to facts and evidence and corroboration from witnesses. I have two out of the three so far and it’s only a matter of time before the evidence I need will surface.”

Davis rubbed his face with one of his hands, closing his eyes as he did. He shook his head. “Mr. Murphy, you live in a different world from the rest of us. People in this world want to read about what you know for sure, not about what you think happened.”

“I’m sorry that I can’t share with you everything I know, but I often trust my gut in these situations—and my gut is telling me that my cockamamie theory is dead on.”

“I admire your tenacity—I truly do. But you’re missing it on this one. And this isn’t the kind of story you want to miss it on.”

“Why? Because someone died?”

“No. It’s because of the people who are still living. Carson Tanner was beloved by all and he died in a tragic accident on the track. Everybody knows it. It’s not worth ruining your career over because you have a hunch about something. Just think about it.”

Cal nodded. “I have thought about it—which is exactly why I think I need to pursue this story more. Something happened out there