Sharp Turn (15 page)

‘Right. Sure.’

‘I meant it as a compliment,’ he persisted.

I fidgeted, suddenly nervous about a bunch of things – Tozzi using his serious tone; whether I’d lost my tail; whether there’d been a tail in the first place. As well as feeling jumpy, I was starving.

‘Why are you always laughing at me?’ I said.

‘Because you amuse me.’

‘How condescendingly sweet of you!’

He made an exasperated noise and grabbed my shoulders. ‘Tara, why do you turn everything I say into a personal attack?’

‘Because that’s what it is.’

As his hands tightened, I got an odd sensation in my stomach. I glanced down and saw a bright energy cord running between us, belly button to belly button. It had happened twice before, and this time was no less unnerving. Maybe that’s why I can’t let go of the Nick Tozzi attraction. The cord pulsed like a high pressure hose whenever we got close.

I looked up to see him staring at the place where my red dress crossed over my breasts. His breathing pattern had changed and his aura was beginning to swamp me. I knew I had to get out of there. Something was about to happen that I’d really regret.

‘Um . . . look . . . I think dinner was a bad idea,’ I said, stepping back. ‘Thanks for your help, though. I have to go now. You don’t mind catching a taxi home, do you?’

Not waiting for a reply, I wrenched myself out of his grip and ran like hell.

As I passed the Stoned Crow on the way home, the neon sign advertising Sable’s caught my eye. I veered left and pulled into the car park. I needed to talk to Crack. And besides, I didn’t want to go home to my flat and sit there thinking about what had just happened.

I was soon perched at the bar, sipping a soda. Things were quiet, and Sable was out the back Skyping her cousin in Spain, so Crack was happy to plant himself opposite me with only the occasional nervous glance to the staff entrance.

‘How’s the job going?’ he asked.

‘Slowly,’ I said. ‘I was kinda hoping you could give me a speed update on a few things.’

His eyes took on the shine that told me he’d happily talk about bike racing well into his next life. ‘What did you want to know?’

‘You heard about any problems between Team Riley and Moto-Sane? Or between the mechanics? Apparently they had a fight out at the track. Cops got called in.’

‘Yeah? Well, I don’t know either of the wrenches, but I’ve heard they both came from the same works team in Europe.’

He poured himself a glass of lemonade. I was pleased to see it. Crack had a penchant for rum, and rum had a penchant for Crack. Together, they got a bit crazy. One time after a rum-and-cola night, Crack tried to jump off a flyover bridge in Claremont, just to see if he could. I tied him to the railing with his belt until we both sobered up. I guess drinking was another thing Sable had saved him from.

‘Which team?’ I asked.

‘Aprilia, I think.’

‘So they have a history?’

‘Could do.’

‘What about Gig Riley?’

‘Gig’s a pretty fine rider, but he’s not a natural like Bolo’s guy.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘It’s kinda hard to explain. Lemme think. You know how in basketball you get those players who can just do things without thinking? It’s like they see the gaps on the court. The really good billiards players are the same – they reckon they see the lines on the table. Well, bikes are no different. You can be technically good but not have the feel.’

‘The “one with the machine” thing?’

‘Sounds corny, but it’s actually true.’

‘So what about the father?’

‘Riley’s a hard bastard. Not someone you wanna cross from what I hear.’

‘And the other two? Bennett and Chesley?’

‘Chesley’s a partnership. You know Shakes the jeweller?’

I nodded.

‘It’s kind of a hobby for him. Same for the engineer guy, Hardwick. Fair bit of internal politics, so I hear.’

‘And Bennett?’

‘Honest-to-goodness racing family. Been doing it for years. The father used to race cars and the uncle was into speedway. They say the youngest Bennett girl is mad keen on drifting.’

As far as I could tell, the motorsport of drifting was like skydiving without a parachute.

‘Thanks, Crack,’ I said. Pretty much everything he’d said confirmed what I’d learnt so far, and I had a lead on the fight between the mechanics. I drained my soda.

‘You want a real drink, T?’ he asked.

It was tempting. For once I had some money in my pocket and I could taxi home. Then I thought of Lena Vine. I still had to check through her files on Louise.

‘Nah, got some work to do.’

He looked a bit disappointed.

‘Let’s have a night out soon,’ I added. ‘Bok too.’

He grinned at that idea.

The three of us could take the town apart together – just so long as we kept away from flyover bridges.

On the way home, I stopped in Bayview for a consolation chocolate caramel cone at the ice-creamery opposite Latte Ole. Patrons were bursting out of the café doors onto the sidewalk as the place did its evening transformation into a bar. I wondered how many people I’d know in there, and for a second considered going in.

Go home, Tara
, I told myself sternly.
Do your work
.

Then I saw Ed stumbling out.

I opened my mouth to call to him, but shut it when a slim girl in an LBD detached from a group near the door and snuggled in under his arm. They kissed briefly on the lips and walked off together, heads bent in deep conversation. My heart contracted into a hard, unhappy lump. Was that Vonny, the girl he’d mentioned?

I wanted to follow them but gave myself a lecture about having some pride. Instead I drove home licking my ice-cream and feeling miserable.

Chapter 13

C
ASS WAS ALREADY ASLEEP
, so I tiptoed around for a bit then climbed into bed with my laptop. First I checked the Aprilia site. There were a couple of dealers listed, of which the closest was in Fremantle. I’d swing by there tomorrow and see what I could find out about Clem and Riley’s wrench.

Next, I dug around for anything on Bennett’s Hardware being in financial trouble. Sure enough, there were rumours about it on some of the financial forums. They’d also dropped off the latest Australia’s Top Companies list. (I noticed that Riley’s Tyres had snuck in at ninety-nine.) If the rumours were true, Team Bennett might be riding in their last race.

I opened my email and clicked on the attachment Lena Vine had sent me. It contained her files on both Louise and Kate. I only gave Kate’s a cursory glance; I hadn’t asked for it, and wasn’t really interested in junkies. According to the file, Kate was a home-grown girl from Bunbury who’d worked in various cafés, restaurants and clubs around Perth. The reason she’d given Madame Vine for wishing to become a ‘team member’ was her desire to save money to go on an overseas holiday. Where to? Amsterdam?

I closed her file and opened Louise’s. Her real name was Lexi Clarke. She’d transferred her university course from Ballarat to Western Australia and was living in a share house near Broadway Fair. I scanned her list of clients. No one jumped out at me, so I started the arduous job of Googling each one. A few turned out to be lawyers or doctors or mining execs, but I couldn’t see any obvious connections with anyone unsavoury – not that bad guys tended to advertise on the internet. I wasn’t sure who I’d been hoping to see on the list. Johnny Viaspa, perhaps?

I cut and pasted both girls’ client lists into another email and sent it to Mr Hara. He might notice something I hadn’t.
PS
, I added,
I’ll be around for my first
self-defence lesson tomorrow night.

Shutting down my computer, I leaned over and put it on the floor beside me.

I was asleep before it switched off.

My phone rang at five the next morning. ‘Yes?’ I yawned into the mouthpiece.

‘Tara? It’s Bolo Ignatius. Sorry for the early call. I wanted to catch you before you head up to the raceway this morning. Something’s happened.’ He sounded upset.

I sat up in bed and rubbed my eyes. ‘What?’

‘I’ve had a . . . errr . . . death threat.’

‘Wha-a-t?’ I stiffened. ‘How?’

‘A text message telling me to pull my team out of the last round or else.’

‘Or else what?’

‘The message had a picture attached. I’m sending it to you now.’

I waited for the image to come through. It wasn’t nice, unless you went for pictures of a hooded man hanging from a rope. I felt a bit sick as I called him back.

‘You should go to the police. They might be able to track who sent it,’ I said.

‘No.’

‘Well, let it be on the record that I am advising you to do so,’ I said. ‘I should have some impressions for you soon. Can you see me this evening?’

‘When?’ he asked.

I was accompanying Smitty to her meeting with Rampant Kindy Mum this afternoon, but I could catch up with Bolo afterwards.

‘How about 5 pm in the car park at Cottesloe Beach?’ I said. ‘I drive a Monaro.’

‘The one with flames?’

‘You’ve seen it?’

‘Heard about it.’

‘Great,’ I said. ‘Well, see you there.’

I hung up and sat for a moment.
Death threat
? My pulse accelerated. Something that serious and he didn’t want to go to the cops. Now why would that be?

‘Who was that?’ asked a sleepy voice from the foldout bed.

‘Bolo.’

‘Didn’t sound good.’

‘It isn’t,’ I said grimly. ‘Someone’s threatening him. Sent him a nasty picture. I’m going to the gym, Cass. Back in an hour. We’ll head off then – grab some breakfast on the way.’

‘No need,’ said Cass sleepily. ‘Your mum sent down eggs and bacon. I’ll cook while you’re at the gym.’

My mother had sent down food? It’d been hard enough believing the vampire lady had taken to Cass. Now, this! My mother allowed me to raid her fridge with a slightly disapproving frown. But providing food for me . . . that hadn’t happened since school lunches stopped when I was sixteen.

Within ten minutes I was at the gym. Craigo was fiddling with the cappuccino machine as I strolled past the counter. There were already a few people there on the walking machines.

He looked up. ‘Tara, you just coming home from a night out?’

‘No. Why?’ Did I look that tragic? Actually, I felt pretty bad.

‘You don’t do this, remember? Sweat in the morning.’

Craigo and I had had many a conversation about the merits and demerits of early morning exercise. I swore it endangered my biorhythms.

‘I’ve got a job,’ I said mournfully. ‘It’s the only time I can get here.’

‘Poor darling. I’ll have a hot chocolate ready to go.’

‘Make it two,’ I said, thinking of Cass.

I did a walk and slow jog warm-up for about twenty minutes on the running machine and mulled over a heap of things. Audrey’s murder and Bolo’s death threat should have been at the forefront of my mind, but the truth was, a third thing was crowding in. I couldn’t stop thinking about Edouardo and wondering if he was cheating on me.