sidewayz glory (17 page)

Driftdog Dave was there and patted him on the shoulder. “Dude, I sure hope someone got that on camera, because people are gonna be downloading that off the Internet for years to come.”

Even Chris Craven came over and shook his hand. “Nice move. Never seen anything like it.”

It was time for the next heat, and things began to look normal again—guys bent into open hoods, changing tires, or just hanging around smoking and talking. But the moment Kennin got out of the Corolla, he sensed something was wrong. Angelita stood stiffly by the spare tires with a hard expression on her face. Kennin scowled at her. Angel ita's eyes darted to her right.

Kennin turned to see Detective Neilson step out of the shadows with two uniformed police officers. He swiveled his head around and saw a police cruiser parked a dozen yards away. Raoul was sitting in the backseat with his hands cuffed behind him. Next to the police car was a Las Vegas PD tow truck.

rim expression on his face. “Four thousand dollars, Kennin.”

Kennin felt a shiver. Angelita stared at the ground and bit her lip. She looked like she was going to cry. Kennin glanced at Raoul again. In the back of the police cruiser, Tito's cousin hung his head. Neilson must've gotten him on the stolen trailer.

“Don't worry about him,” the detective said. “Just tell me how you came up with that kind of money.”

Kennin didn't answer. He could hear tires screaming and engines roaring as the next tandem heat went off.

“I asked you a question,” Neilson said.

“Am I under arrest?” Kennin asked.

“Where'd the money come from, Kennin?” Neilson asked.

“I don't have to tell you,” Kennin replied.

“You'd be doing yourself a big favor if you did,” Neilson said.

“How's that?” Kennin asked.

Neilson didn't answer. Instead, he glanced at Angelita. “Think you could give us a moment?”

Angelita nodded and walked toward the track to watch the heat. Neilson stepped closer to Kennin and lowered his voice. With the roar of the cars in the background, Kennin could hardly hear him. “You want her to get busted for receiving stolen property?”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Kennin said.

“How about I bust her for receiving the proceeds from the sale of stolen property?” the detective asked.

“Still don't know what you're talking about,” Kennin said.

“How about I tell her where you've been living for the past few weeks?” asked Neilson.

“What's that got to do with anything?” Kennin asked.

“I need some information,” Neilson said. “I got you tangentially involved in two stolen cars and four grand in unexplained cash. Maybe you can close your eyes and pretend it didn't happen, but I can't. Now either you start spilling or I turn the screws tighter, understand?”

“And the information I give you helps put Raoul back in the slammer for a dozen years?” Kennin guessed.

Now it was Neilson's turn not to answer.

“The money's gol: nothing to do with him,” Kennin said.

“Where'd it come from?” Neilson asked.

“Someone who wanted to see me drive on this course,” Kennin said.

“Why?”

“Because they seem to think that if I'm not here, it won't be as exciting as if I am,” Kennin said.

Neilson nodded. “That may be, Kennin, but you still gotta give me something. It's your choice. The GTO, the Camry, or the four thousand bucks.”

Kennin stared down at the ground and didn't answer. He wasn't going to give Neilson what he wanted.

“You're making a mistake,” the detective warned.

“Not the first time,” Kennin said.

Neilson's face tightened like a fist. “This is your last chance. Give me something or I'll impound this car under the terms of the Nevada Contraband Seizure Law.”

Kennin looked up, shocked. “On what grounds?”

“Probable cause that it has been used in the commission of a crime,” Neilson said. “In this case, the use of ill-gotten drug money or profits from the sale of stolen vehicles.”

“You've got no proof,” Kennin argued.

“That's the beauty of it, Kennin,” Neilson said. “I don't need proof, just probable cause. It's not a criminal violation. It's civil law. You can even get the car back. All you have to do is cough up fifteen hundred bucks.”

“I'm supposed to run in another heat in a few minutes,” Kennin said.

Neilson slowly shook his head. “Not happening. If you feel you've been unjustly accused, you can request an appeal. Just keep in mind that the burden's on you to prove you weren't involved in any wrongdoing.” The detective hesitated. “That is, unless you suddenly remember some names.”

Kennin shook his head.

“You're digging yourself in deeper and deeper,” Neilson warned.

“Like I have a choice,” Kennin replied bitterly.

Neilson straightened up alertly. “You do, Kennin. You can tell me what's really going on.”

There was no answer Kennin could give. Neilson pursed his lips and shook his head sadly. “I've told you this before, Kennin. You seem like a good kid who's in a bad spot. I'd like to help you, but only if you help me.”

Kennin hung his head. Neilson said something to the two uniformed officers. Then he headed for Angelita. Kennin watched while Neilson spoke to her. He couldn't hear what the detective was saying, but he could see Angelita's face fall as he gave her the news that the Corolla was being impounded. And then Neilson gave her one more piece of information. Angelita's eyes widened and her mouth fell open. She stared in horror at Kennin. Then tears burst out of her eyes and she bolted from the paddock area.

to watch the next heat. He got back to the paddock area just in time to see his sister run away crying and the cops take the keys to the Corolla from Kennin. “What's going on?” he asked Kennin.

Kennin pointed at the police cruiser with Tito's cousin in the back. “They got Raoul and they're impounding the car.”

“What?” Tito gasped. “They can't do that!”

Other drifters and crew started to gather as the word spread that the Corolla was being impounded by the cops. Meanwhile, two guys had gotten out of the police department tow truck and were winching the Corolla.

“It's DQ time,” Ian said with a satisfied smile.

“That is so unfair,” said Driftdog Dave. “Dude, you can use my car. I probably wouldn't even have it if it wasn't for you.”

Kennin shook his head. “You're still in this competition. You should drive.”

Seemingly out of nowhere, Derek lumbered up to Neilson and began speaking in hushed, excited tones. Neilson listened, then shook his head. Derek grew more agitated, gesturing and stamping his foot on the ground. It was obvious that he had a lot to lose if the Corolla went away. But no matter what he said, Neilson wasn't to be swayed. Finally the detective turned and walked away.

Mariel came through the crowd. Kennin watched how her eyes went to Chris first before she turned to him. “I hear you need a car?” She reached into her bag and handed him a set of keys on a black Lexus fob. “Here you go.”

For a split second Kennin was tempted. A production IS300 might stand a chance. He stared at the keys in his palm and then at Chris, who had an annoyed look on his face, as if he knew she was doing this just to annoy him. That's all it would ever be with her. Kennin should have known that all along. He handed Chris the keys.

“This is your problem,” he said, and then turned to go.

“Where're you going?” Tito asked, hurrying behind him.

“To find your sister,” Kennin answered.

“What about the competition?”

“I just lost my car, remember?” Kennin said, walking through the paddock, looking for Angelita.

“What about Mariel's Lexus?” Tito said.

“No way,” Kennin said. “I've had enough of that BS to last a lifetime.”

“Then why are you looking for my sister?” Tito asked.

Kennin didn't answer.

“You promised you'd leave her alone,” Tito said.

“That's when I thought you really cared about her,” Kennin said.

“You saying I don't care about her?” Tito sputtered.

“If you did, you'd want her to be happy,” Kennin said. “And you wouldn't be so quick to sabotage her car.”

“I told you, I was forced to do that,” Tito said.

“I don't think you argued too hard,” Kennin said.

“But …”

Kennin didn't listen. It didn't matter what Tito said now. The police tow truck started up and pulled the Corolla out of the paddock. Kennin found Angelita sitting against a fence in the dark behind the stands.

“Can't see much from here,” he said.

“Go away,” she said.

“I lied to you because I didn't want to hurt you,” he said.

“Gee, thanks,” she shot back bitterly.

“I'm finished with all that now,” he said.

“Oh, sure,” Angelita said. “I believe every word.”

Engines were revving in the background. Another heat was about to go off.

“I want to go with you,” Kennin said.

Angelita looked up in the dark with a puzzled expression on her face. “Where?”

“Wherever you go,” Kennin said.

“Why?” she asked.

“You know why,” Kennin said.

Angelita stared at him. “How do I know you're telling the truth?”

“What reason would I have to lie?” Kennin asked.

“Excuse me,” a voice said in the dark.

Kennin turned to find a man in a gray uniform. It was Joe, one of the security guards from the Babylon. “Kennin Burnett?”

“Yes?” Kennin said.

“Mr. Mercado wants to see you,” the guard said.

Kennin looked at Angelita.

“It's okay,” she said. “You can go.”

Kennin turned back to the guard. “She comes too.”

“Mr. Mercado said just you,” the guard said.

“I don't go if she doesn't go,” Kennin said.

Joe led them through a service entrance at the back of the casino and up in an elevator the room service waiters used. The outer office of the penthouse was dark and Laney's desk was empty. Joe knocked on the wooden door and Mike Mercado answered it. His sleeves were rolled back and his tie was askew, and he looked like he'd had a long day.

“Who's this?” he asked, glancing at Tito's sister after Joe left.

“This is my friend Angelita,” Kennin said. “I wanted you to meet her. She's the one who built the car I was driving.”

Mercado extended his hand. “Hello, Angelita. I see Kennin has good taste.”

Angelita blushed, and Mercado asked them to come in and sit down. Kennin noticed that the curtains were pulled back. From his office at the top of the casino, you could see the lights of Las Vegas and the silhouettes of the mountain peaks in the distance.

“So, Kennin,” he said once they'd settled down. “I assume you have something to tell me?”

“I'm leaving town,” Kennin said.

Mercado nodded.

“And I didn't use the entire five grand on the car,” Kennin said.

Mercado smiled. “Didn't expect you to.”

Kennin blinked. “Serious?”

“This is Las Vegas, Kennin,” Mercado said. “Everyone cons everyone. The only way you survive is by staying one con ahead. But I appreciate your honesty. So what did you do with the rest of the money?”

“I paid someone I trust to take my sister to LA and put her in a drug rehab,” Kennin said. “I'll pay you back.”

Mercado grinned. “You already have.”

Kennin frowned.

“We did twice what we expected at the gate tonight,” Mercado said. “Maybe as much as forty thousand.”

“You're not mad?” Kennin asked.

“Mad? I'm delighted!” Mercado said. “Why would you think I'd be mad?”

“The odds were against me,” Kennin said. “Everyone expected me to lose. Whoever's betting for me lost a lot of money when I dropped out.”