Dangerous Race (23 page)

“This better be good,” he groused when he opened the door. He rubbed his eyes, and wiped his hand down his face.

Detective Hahn stood at attention with a uniformed officer next to him.

Apprehension sliced through Mac’s gut before real fear streaked down his spine. “What happened?” He moved toward the adjoining door without thinking. “Is Tracey—”

“Trace’s fine, Mac.” Hahn said. “It’s Eddie Grayling.”

Mac froze. His stomach flipped. He didn’t want to hear that Eddie was dead or think about the consequences for Tracey. “What about him?”

“Where were you last night around two a.m.?”

Bile rose up and Mac ignored the implication. “What happened to Eddie?” he gritted out.

“Someone nailed him over the head with a crowbar last night. He’s at the hospital under observation. Answer my question.”

Mac sighed, relief strong. “I was—” with Tracey, “—here,” Mac said. That fierce protectiveness of Tracey blossomed strong in his chest and he refused to force her into corroborating his story. Besides, he’d only been with her part of the night.

“Alone?” the detective asked.

Mac gestured to the empty room. “What does it look like?”

“I need you to get dressed and come with me to the station,” Hahn said.

Mac stiffened. Complete clarity shattered any remaining cobwebs in his brain. Maybe leaving Tracey had been a stupid idea after all. “Why?”

“Just routine. Need to ask you some questions.”

“Routine, my ass. What the—?”

“Mac? What’s going on?” Tracey stood in the adjoining doorway. With her lids still heavy from sleep and a big robe around her slim body, she looked like a teenager. She also looked a little green around the edges, as though she’d indulged in one too many last night.

“Nothing, Tracey. It’s okay. Go back to sleep,” he said, trying to usher her back to her room.

“It’s not okay.” She pushed past him. The vulnerable lady disappeared. In-your-face Trace was back with a vengeance. “What’s going on?”

Hahn’s brows rose as he glanced behind Tracey. “Is that door always unlocked?”

Tracey clearly realized the insinuation. “When my other room was destroyed, Mac wanted me…Mac thought I’d be safer if he was close by.”

Strained silence filled the room as Hahn glanced between the two of them before focusing on Mac. “We’ll wait for you in the hall,” he said.

“Wait!” Tracey ordered. “What happened?”

Hahn debated for a few seconds. “Eddie Grayling’s in the hospital. Someone attacked him last night at the garage.”

Tracey’s olive skin paled a few shades. A combination of worry, disbelief and fear replaced the hard look in her eyes. Mac put his arm around her shoulders and didn’t give a rat’s ass what Hahn thought.

What the hell was happening and when was it going to end? Had Eddie been hurt intentionally or had he been at the wrong place at the wrong time? Why would—?

“Two minutes, Mac.” Hahn watched him before glancing at Tracey. “We’ll be outside.” He left the room with the officer in tow.

“First Joe. Now Eddie.” Clearly shell-shocked, Tracey looked up at Mac with confusion in her eyes. “Why does Hahn want to talk to you?”

“Just routine,” Mac said, echoing Hahn and throwing the whole thing off as inconsequential. He grabbed a pair of jeans tossed over a chair and headed to the bathroom.

Tracey believed that as much as she believed in the tooth fairy. No one pounded on a door this early in the morning and called it “routine.” She swallowed back the new wave of nausea that crashed in her belly, followed Mac and stopped in the bathroom doorway. The sight of his bare chest with his low-hung jeans still unbuttoned sent an unwanted thrill of tingles directly to her middle. Sex was the last thing she needed, especially since her stomach was still protesting last night’s beers.

“Is Eddie okay?” She worked hard to keep her eyes on Mac’s.

Mac shrugged and spit toothpaste into the sink. “Hahn said he’s at the hospital under observation.”

Apprehension crept up fast and scary. “What does Hahn want with you?” But a fresh queasy sensation told her she already knew the answer.

“He wants to know where I was at two o’clock this morning.”

A wave of relief washed through Tracey and she exhaled the breath she’d been holding. “You were with me.” The words came out. The memories flooded. His lips all over her body, between her legs. Her tingles turned into colossal goose bumps.

Mac stared at her from the mirror, the same memories filling his dark, smoky eyes along with a spark of desire so real and intense that Tracey’s heart seemed to stop for a second.

Heat spread through her body like wild fire. A low steady pulse started at her core.

Mac shook his head and looked away. “I wasn’t with you all night.”

She’d found that out when she’d opened her eyes to her empty bed and the loud rapping against Mac’s door. “Why?” The question was small, but loaded, and it hung in the air, a dark cloud ready to release acid rain.

Hard pounding at the door made Tracey jump. “Time’s up,” Hahn shouted from the hallway.

Mac brushed past her. He threw a T-shirt over his head and dug his feet into a pair of cross trainers. “Coming,” he called.

Tracey opened the door and eyed the detective. “Why do you want to talk to Mac?” she asked, tired of being kept in the dark. Hahn shrugged and looked as though he might not be honest with her. “We know this has something to do with me, Detective. The least you can do is answer my question.”

Hahn regarded her. “We found a pocket knife near Eddie.”

“So,” Mac said from behind Tracey.

“So, it has the initials M. R. engraved on the handle.”

Tracey understood the implication as quickly as Mac, but it seemed extremely circumstantial at best. The initials could’ve applied to any number of people.

“I can tell you right now I don’t even own a pocket knife,” Mac said.

Hahn nodded but waved him out anyway. “Well, until we check for prints and get your statement, we’re swimming in murky water, so let’s do this and get it over with.”

“Wait. What about the video camera?” Tracey asked. “Didn’t you see who did it?”

The detective shook his head. “Whoever did it smashed the camera and took the tape.”

Despair crept in on Tracey. She hated the feeling of utter helplessness. Hated being unable to stop the chain of events that continued to spin her life and the lives of everyone around her into a frenzy.

Mac squeezed past her into the hall. “Call Matthew,” he said. “If I’m not back in a few hours, have him take you to the track. I don’t want you to be alone.”

The genuine concern in Mac’s eyes propelled more chills streaking down her back. What if her stalker came after her out in the open?

Hahn tipped his head to the side and put a finger in the air. “You’re not talking about Matthew Rivers, are you?” he asked. “Because he’s otherwise occupied, as well.”

Mac closed his eyes and sighed as if something had just registered in his head. “He’s coming with us, isn’t he?”

“I’ve got two officers at his door right now,” Hahn said with a nod. “We’re going to caravan to the police station.”

Anger shot through Tracey like a bullet. “This is insane. Why are you questioning innocent people?”

Taking her shoulders, Mac looked her in the eyes. “The initials, Tracey. They apply to Matthew too.”

The ground swayed beneath her. This was affecting everyone around her. First Joe. Then Eddie. Now Mac and Matthew were both considered suspects. Lord have mercy, this was the second time Matthew’s name came up. Hahn had been suspicious about him finding her pills outside the office door. Even Ed had become a suspect because of her life insurance policy.

Mac’s grip tightened on her shoulders. “Tracey?”

She snapped out of her stupor and blinked into focus. “I’m okay. I want to go with you.”

“There’s no point,” Hahn told her. “We’re just going to question the guys, then probably release them.”

“Probably?”

The word came from Tracey and Mac at the same time. They glanced at each other, both realizing it was the first time they’d ever been in agreement.
Vertically
speaking.

“Don’t leave by yourself,” Mac told her. “If we don’t get back by practice time, then stay here.”

Hahn gestured toward the elevators and Mac looked at Tracey one last time. She wanted him to touch her. Wanted him to reassure her that everything would be all right, but instead he nodded once and followed the detective.

Tracey didn’t wait until they were out of sight. She ran back into the room and jumped into her own shower. It did wonders for her hangover.

Mac may have meant well, but she didn’t plan to hide the rest of the day. The first thing she needed to do was check on Eddie, then she could go to the police station and be there to take Mac and Matthew either to the track or back to the hotel.

Only as she dressed did she think of something else,
someone
else. Chelsea. If Matthew and Chelsea spent the night together then at least he had an alibi.

Mac had her as an alibi. Or did he? Tracey sat on the edge of the bed. They’d been together at midnight, but she couldn’t say what time he’d left her. She’d fallen into an exhausted sleep almost as soon as he’d…

More memories, more heat. His lips and his tongue had wreaked havoc in places she’d never imagined. Tracey gave her head a hard shake to clear her thoughts. Mac couldn’t be involved. He showed up after Joe died. He’d been in the car with her, had gone in the lake with her. Mac had nothing to gain by taking her out of the race.

Then why did he leave you alone last night? Where did he go?

Had he gone looking for Eddie with some kind of revenge in mind on her behalf? Ridiculous. Mac would never hurt Eddie. Even the idea was beneath him.

Tracey picked up the phone. She refused to be haunted by ludicrous questions. She started to punch the numbers to Chelsea’s room then hung up. What about Chelsea? She didn’t know this woman at all, but after a couple of days she was ready to call her for support. What if Chelsea had something to do with this? Just because she wasn’t here for Joe’s death didn’t mean she couldn’t have commissioned it, as Mac had suggested. She’d seemed genuinely concerned at the hospital the other day, but that might’ve been a world-class acting job. What about the day at the mall? They’d had fun, laughed like kids? Was that also an act?

Who had anything to gain with her out of the race? Only two people came to mind. Ed and Eddie. With her gone, Ed stood to make a fortune from the life insurance policy, and Eddie would be driving the team car. But why would Ed pick now—this race—to try? What was the point? Since Eddie was the latest victim, he couldn’t be her stalker. Maybe one of the other drivers thought she was too much competition, but eliminating her didn’t guarantee a race win for anyone.

Tracey squeezed her eyes shut and groaned out loud. She couldn’t live her life like this, suspicious of everyone around her. She picked up the phone again. If Chelsea and Matthew were together, then neither one could’ve hurt Eddie. With that sound logic, Tracey punched in the numbers to Chelsea’s room. After several rings a sleepy voice answered.

“Chelsea?” Tracey asked.

“Yes.” She cleared her throat. “Who’s this?”

“It’s Tracey. I’m sorry to bother you so early.” Tracey glanced at the clock. Six-thirty. “I was wondering if Matthew was with you?”

“No. No, he’s not. Why? Is everything okay?”

“So Matthew stayed in his room last night…alone?”

Silence over the phone told Tracey she’d just entered uncharted territory. She hated prying into Matthew’s life, Chelsea’s life, but hadn’t Chelsea waltzed into her world without a second thought?

“As far as I know,” Chelsea answered. “What’s this about, Tracey?”

Since her sound logic had just been blown out of the water, Tracey only had her gut to rely on and her gut told her there was no way Matthew was behind this. Chelsea, on the other hand, was a different matter. Tracey swore softly. “I was hoping you guys were together last night.”

“Tracey, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”

That sounded genuine. “Look, I don’t know if Matthew’s said anything to you about me, but I’ve been having a few problems with a…a stalker.” Tracey explained what she knew about the previous night and waited for Chelsea’s reaction.

“So, the police think Matthew might be responsible for attacking Eddie?”

“All I know is he’s being questioned along with Mac.” Tracey paused. She didn’t know if she should make the offer she had in mind or keep her mouth shut. But since she’d never been able to keep her mouth shut, and she could possibly end this madness today, she went for it. “I was going to go to the police station and make sure the guys have a ride home. Do you…Did you want to come with me?” Tracey heard shuffling over the phone, as if Chelsea were sitting up.

“Uh, I don’t know if…You know what…yeah, sure.”

“How fast can you meet me in the lobby?”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

Tracey pulled her hair back in a ponytail and dressed quickly. The closest thing she had to a weapon was a four-inch metal billy stick on her key ring. Not much, but better than nothing, and she knew how to use it. Ten minutes later she exited the elevator and moved toward the lobby.

Finding Chelsea didn’t take long. In fact, it only took a split second. Tracey stopped short as Chelsea turned toward her, dressed in almost identical clothes. Wearing similar low-hung cargo pants topped with a form-fitting short-sleeve top and her hair pulled back in the same ponytail, Chelsea came close to being Tracey’s double.

The frozen expression on Chelsea’s face as she looked her up and down told Tracey she wasn’t the only one weirded out by the similarity. They stood face to face and the hair on Tracey’s nape stood on end. An immediate deep-seated intuition told her she was no longer alone. She didn’t need a blood test to confirm that Chelsea Harding was her sister. She knew it in the depths of her soul. The question remaining was if her sister wanted her dead.

“I don’t think we need a blood test,” Chelsea said.

They thought alike too. “I wonder what else we have in common.”

“At the moment, a couple of guys in deep doo-doo.”

Tracey grinned despite the weight in her heart. Nothing seemed remotely evil about the woman, but she didn’t know her well enough to make that judgment. “Well, we don’t have language in common. I would’ve said deep shit.” They headed for the parking structure, walking in tandem, a moving mirror of each other. “I’ll drive,” Tracey said, jingling keys in her hand. She almost touched the keypad to unlock the doors when she spotted a white panel van with blacked out windows pulling away from her Navigator.

Unease rattled her stomach and she stopped Chelsea from going farther.

“What?” Chelsea said. “What’s wrong?”

“Maybe nothing. Maybe everything.” The van was now gone, but Tracey still felt nervous. “Maybe I watch too many mafia moves,” she mumbled. She squinted her eyes and hit the alarm on her keypad. The double chirp echoed eerily in the garage as the alarm shut off and the doors unlocked. Nothing blew up. Tracey felt a little foolish. “I think we’re okay,” she said as she started forward. “I do want to check under the hood though. Give me a minute.”

Chelsea waited as she popped the hood and peered under the truck, looking for fluid or anything that might be suspicious. Then she lifted the hood and checked the engine. No broken hoses or loose wires.

She gestured to Chelsea and they both climbed in. Tracey didn’t see any loose wires sticking from under the dash so she inserted her key in the ignition and froze. Cars also blew up when engines were started, but she hadn’t seen anything funky anywhere so she took a deep breath and turned the key. And didn’t blow up again. Relief washed through her.

“Is everything okay?” Chelsea asked, watching her with worried eyes.

The concern in her voice strengthened the new bond, and a feeling of belonging knocked Tracey off guard. She’d waited her whole life to have a family, positive that it would never happen and now that it seemed a definite probability she didn’t know what to feel.

“Yeah. Everything’s good.” She backed out of the space. “Thanks for coming with me.”

“No problem,” Chelsea said with a glance.

A strange silence settled between them until Chelsea cleared her throat. “I drive a blue Miata,” she said. A quirky grin passed over her lips. “It’s the same blue as your race car.”

Tracey smiled. An unfamiliar sense of peace spread through her, as if she’d found a missing piece to a favorite puzzle. She made her way out of the parking garage and another silence filled the SUV. Obviously, Chelsea had something on her mind. Considering they were headed to the police station to pick up Matthew, she probably had a lot on her mind. What did Matthew mean to her, anyway? Was he a friend? Lover? Fling? Did Chelsea wonder if he was crazy or violent because of this?

“Look, I—”

“This is—”

They both started and stopped in the same breath. Chelsea shifted in her seat and faced Tracey. “You first,” she said.

Tracey kept her eyes on the road, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. “I just wanted to reassure you that Matthew’s not involved with this. I’ve known him too long and not only is he
not
capable of this he’s too sweet to even consider it.”

“Why do you feel you have to defend him?” Chelsea’s question hung in the air, as though the wrong answer might spring a trap.

It seemed as if something important hinged on her reply. “Well…because he’s a friend, I’ve known him for ten years and I care about him. I don’t want you to think you’ve hooked up with some deranged maniac.”

Chelsea sat back in the leather bucket seat. “I don’t think that at all.” She gazed out the window and sighed loud enough for the people in the next car to hear. “Look, you’re going to find out anyway, but you should know that Matthew and I are pretty much finished. I mean the week is almost over and we’ll be splitting up.”

What? Then this made no sense whatsoever. Tracey slowed for a red light and glanced in her rearview mirror. She spotted a white van two cars back, but couldn’t tell if it was the same van from the hotel garage. Chelsea seemed unnaturally quiet. “If you and Matthew are finished, why did you want to come with me?”

“Don’t get me wrong. I mean, I like Matthew, but other than the first day I met you, I haven’t had a chance to be alone with you and I couldn’t let the opportunity go by.” Not the words Tracey wanted to hear to feel safe, but if this lady meant her harm one way or the other, she’d rather know now. “I have a confession to make,” Chelsea added.

This couldn’t be good.

“I hired someone to do some digging into your life.” Chelsea looked at her with apologetic eyes. “You have to know that I’d been warned there was a chance you weren’t even alive. He told me not to get my hopes up, but…Well, when we thought we found you, I wanted to know as much about you as I could before I met you,” she hurried to say. “I know you were raised in a foster family and I know you spent most of your time with the Graylings at their track.” She stared at her lap. “I know you had it tough.” Another smaller sigh escaped her lips. “I just wanted you to understand that living with our…living with Mom wasn’t a picnic either. By the time I left home at nineteen, I’d had fourteen…‘uncles.’” She made quotation marks with her fingers. “Some were harmless, some weren’t. Most left me alone, but a few tried to…” She blinked rapidly and shook her head. “The point I’m trying to make is that my life wasn’t wine and roses either.”

“If that was the case then why didn’t you get out? Why stay?” Tracey asked.

“I got out as soon as I could. I didn’t have enough money to support myself until I graduated college and got a job.”

That surprised Tracey. “You graduated college at nineteen? How’d you do that?” The light turned green and she stepped on the gas, trying to keep an eye on the van behind her.

“I took high school credit courses in junior high. I took college credit courses in high school, graduated early and took advanced courses in college and graduated early there too. I figured the quickest way out of my house was to get into the real world as fast as I could. Get a job, pay my own way. I locked myself in my room with books until I made it happen. If I’d had a job, it would’ve taken me twice as long. So I dealt with…Mom and all the guys she brought home.”

That didn’t sound fun or innocent. “So that’s your confession. Your life was no picnic and you didn’t want me to think you had it easy because
Mom
kept
you?
”

“My confession is that I hired a private investigator to find out about you. My confession is that Matthew saw me give him money yesterday and he thought that I had something to do with…with your stalker. He thought I might be paying a guy to take you out of the race.”

Tracey nodded. Though everything Chelsea said could be the truth, it could also be an elaborate setup. Tracey went with her instinct. Chelsea had no motive. “When did you and Matthew have this falling out?” she asked.

“Late last night. I think we straightened everything out, but I feel horrible, and I’m not here to hurt you in any way. I have no reason to hurt you. I’m only trying to put my own life together. You know…trying to fit the missing pieces.” Hadn’t Tracey been trying to do that her whole life? “You can talk to the private investigator if you’d like. He’ll verify everything I’ve told you.”

“So you wouldn’t mind telling this to the police too? Just to clear the list,” Tracey said, changing lanes and moving past a sheriff’s bus. The van stayed two cars behind her.

“Not at all. I figured that was another reason why I should come with you.” Chelsea stayed quiet for a minute. “There’s probably one other thing you need to know,” she finally said.

Lord, have mercy. “What’s that?”

“My business is about to go under, so there might be some speculation as to why I’ve contacted you.”

“Is this something Matthew found out about last night too?”

Chelsea shrugged. “Kind of. I know it looks bad, especially since you got those sponsors to listen to a pitch, but I swear to you that was never my intention.” Both guilt and resignation sounded in her voice. Her intense gaze shifted to her lap.

“That explains why you put up such a fight when I got you that meeting for next week. You didn’t want Matthew to think you were here for a quick buck. Look, you’ve got to know, he’s a little protective of me. I think most of the crew is.” A reluctant grin curved her lips. “Matthew really is great. He’s a keeper.”

Chelsea nodded absently and twirled a ring on her pinkie finger. “This is really weird,” she said. “I feel this connection to you that I don’t truly understand, but…” She shook her head and pressed her lips together.

Tracey hated
buts.
“But what?” She slowed for another red light. The van was one car behind her now and her pulse picked up.

“I don’t know…” Chelsea shrugged. “I feel as if I’ve stepped into some alternate world and I’m surrounded by your life. It’s a whole heck of an adjustment.”

Heck? How could she think this woman was her stalker when Chelsea was Alice in Wonderland of the twenty-first century?

Obviously Matthew had an impact on her. That had to be part of
her life
that Chelsea referred to.

“You know Matthew’s head over heels for you.” Tracey said. The light turned green and she moved ahead. The van changed lanes and ended up behind slower traffic. Tracey was glad to pull ahead and she looked next to her.

Chelsea didn’t say anything. She just stared out the window. Every other word out of Matthew’s mouth the past five days was “Chelsea,” but maybe last night’s fight had been the beginning of the end of their relationship…if that’s what it could’ve been called.

Shaking her head, Chelsea seemed desolate. “Well, I have feelings for him too. It’s just…” She clamped her mouth shut and sighed. “Forget it.”

Tracey didn’t force the issue and with the hospital looming closer, she dropped the subject. “Do you mind if I make a quick stop to check on Eddie before we go to the police station?”

“Go ahead.”

Tracey drove into the hospital parking lot and watched the van drive by. She exhaled her relief. “Do you want to come with me?”

Chelsea shook her head. “I better not. Now’s probably not the best time. The poor guy just had his head cracked. I doubt he’s up for meeting new people. To be honest…I hate hospitals.”

Yet Chelsea had come to see her in the hospital after the lake incident. Tracey felt the bond with her strengthen.

“I’ll only be a few minutes,” she said, climbing out of the truck. Stopping at the information desk, she found Eddie’s room and tiptoed in quietly. A large white bandage on his forehead covered his hairline, but with his eyes closed he reminded her of the guy she’d fallen in love with five years before. What bothered her most was that even though he’d hurt her, a little piece of her still cared about him, worried about him. It still boggled her mind that a guy who took in rescue dogs no one else wanted could break off their engagement because of a scar. Even knowing she was better off without him, a lingering sadness still echoed in her head.

Eddie’s eyes suddenly snapped open and focused on her. For a split second, Tracey saw an emotion she didn’t understand. In the next instant he just seemed surprised.

“Hi,” Tracey whispered. Aside from last night in the hotel lobby, she hadn’t been alone with Eddie in so long she didn’t know what to say.

“Hey,” Eddie said, sitting up. “I was hoping someone would come take me out of this hellhole. Was it this bad when you were here the other day?”

She tipped her head to the side. “I don’t know that I’d go as far as ‘hellhole,’ but it wasn’t fun.” She inched closer to his bed. “Are you doing okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He fingered the bandage on his head. “This makes it look worse than it is.” He studied his hands in his lap and sighed before turning his gaze on her. “Trace, I have something to say to you. Something I’ve been meaning to tell you. Uh, ask you.”

Tracey swallowed. The serious tone of his voice sent a fresh wave of guilt through her. “I didn’t mean for anyone else to get hurt in all this, Eddie. I’m—”

“No, I know. That’s not it,” he said. “Look.” He took her hand and tugged her forward. “I owe you an enormous apology.” He couldn’t meet her gaze. “I can’t believe what I did four years ago and I’m ashamed of myself.”

Tracey would’ve been less surprised if the earth had opened up and swallowed her whole. Less surprised if someone told her she’d won the lottery. “Uh…”

“Let me finish,” he said. “This is something I’ve been thinking about for a long time and I guess last night put it into perspective for me.” This time he looked right at her. His angel blue eyes warm with concern and filled with contrition. “I know I was wrong.”

The way he held her hand and looked at her told Tracey what was coming. She had the urge to stick her fingers in her ears, sing la-la-la and shut him out. She wanted to run far and fast until Eddie was a distant memory. Did he seriously think—?

“Lying here in this room has made me see what a complete jerk I was and I’m so, so sorry. I know I have no right to ask for your forgiveness, but I want you to know how badly I feel.”