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

the money, isn’t it?” Burns smacked his hand against the wall and walked out.

He didn’t need to wait around for Davis to tell him the answer he already knew. NASCAR was the king at making money, innovators in professional sports. While the rest of pro sports relied on ticket sales to make money in the early days, NASCAR had figured out a way to monetize everything, all for the good of the sport. Tracks sprang up and became iconic monuments around the country. Racecars were designed to run faster. Drivers became more intelligent. Crews grew more equipped.

“Things have changed, Burns,” Davis yelled after him. “This ain’t your granddaddy’s racing.”

Burns drained the beer and went for another. As he did, Alexa Jennings stomped on top of the cooler, stopping him short of his intended goal.

“Sure you wanna drink another one?” she asked.

He eyed her cautiously. “My liver wouldn’t mind a break.”

She slipped her foot off. “Good. You get into all kinds of trouble when you start drinkin’ around here.”

He rolled his eyes and sat back down. She reached for the door and looked back at him once more before exiting the room.

Burns got up and grabbed another beer. “What’s her problem?” he asked aloud.

Ross walked into the room. “Were you sayin’ something?”

Burns shook his head. “Nah, just tryin’ to deal with that overbearing girlfriend of Ned’s.”

“I know how I’d like to deal with her,” Ross said.

Burns waved him off. “You’re sick, you know that? I bet if she got close enough to a fire, her face would melt. She ain’t real—and she’s old enough to be your mother.”

“Fine by me. I’m a cub.”

“You’re an idiot—that’s what you are, especially if you attempt to put the moves on your boss’s girlfriend.”

“To each his own,” Burns said before finishing the rest of his beer.

They sat in silence for a moment before Burns spoke again.

“Sorry about all that drama on the plane.”

“Aww, forget about it, man. I don’t care what you do now as long as you keep me on this team.”

“Why’s that?”

Ross scratched his chest and took the last swig of his drink. “Because we finally got a driver who can win us a championship.”

Burns shot him a look. “Don’t go celebratin’ just yet. We ain’t won a title, much less a race. We don’t know how the kid’s gonna do on Sunday or how he’ll handle an entire season of racing next year.”

“I doubt he’ll choke like Tanner, God rest his soul.”

“Hey!” Burns threw a crumpled can at Ross. “Don’t speak ill of the dead. You know that’s bad luck.”

Ross laughed and stood up before tossing the can back to Burns. “We make our own luck in this world.”

“Tanner never hurt anybody,” Burns quipped. “He was a good man and he didn’t deserve to die.”

“True—but it might be the best thing that ever happened to this team.”

***

SYLVIA YATES CROUCHED against a door inside the hauler and glanced around. With no one in sight, she strained to hear the conversation taking place in the room next door. She looked around again and decided to better position herself to hear more clearly. Before she could rethink her decision, she pressed her ear against the door and could hear the entire conversation between Russ Ross and Owen Burns. After a few minutes, she’d heard enough. She then took a deep breath and dialed the number for Alayna French.

After working together for several years in the NASCAR corporate office, Sylvia and Alayna both landed jobs with race teams. Alayna intended to stay on longer with NASCAR, but she couldn’t resist the opportunity to brag about her prominent promotion on Twitter. The next morning, she was asked to pack up her belongings six weeks before she planned on it.

Sylvia, however, kept her mouth shut. She recognized the volatility of the industry as soon as she entered it and vowed to avoid scorching bridges during her transition from one job to the next. But Alayna still hadn’t learned that lesson, a fact Sylvia remembered when she needed to leak some important information.

However, this wasn’t information she wanted to leak; rather, it was a message. She wanted to let Cal Murphy know that his hunch was right. It wouldn’t take much to entice Alayna to pass the cryptic message along.

“What’s up, Syl?” Alayna answered.

Sylvia bit her tongue. She hated it when Alayna called her by that lame nickname. “Have you seen Cal Murphy from The Observer around?”

“Yeah, I spoke with him this afternoon. What’s up?”

“Oh, I haven’t seen him today, but I’m looking for him. I wanted to let him know that he’s got the green light on that story we were talking about earlier, but I can’t reach him.”

“And you’ve tried his cell?”

“Yeah, but I can’t get an answer.”

“Hmmm,” Alayna said. “That’s weird. I saw him texting on his phone today at lunch.”

“Well, if you see him, tell him to give me a call, will ya?”

“Sure thing.”

Sylvia hung up and turned her phone off. She never intended to answer a call from Cal Murphy. No need to leave a trail back to her once Ned Davis flushed out who might have told him the truth about what his team was really up to.

CHAPTER 20

RON PARKER CHECKED his mirrors and set his cruise control for the highest acceptable speed without getting caught. If he was honest with himself, he was less worried about getting stopped by the Arizona State Highway Patrol than he was someone else.

Just breathe, Ron.

He took a deep breath and shifted in his seat. With a long ride ahead of him, he decided to turn on the radio and get lost in a song or two.

Bruce Springsteen’s “Born to Run” blared on the first station he tuned into. He hit scan to search for another channel. Pink’s “So What” came on the next one.

He found himself singing along to the catchy tune. I’m gonna start a fight. And then he stopped.

Parker wanted to end the possibility that he