Speed Demons (7 page)

Inside, some of the fear she’d battled for days returned. Reattaching the wheel, she looked around the sparse environment. A technical work of art, her new Viper was a monster under the hood. 650-plus horsepower thundered to life when she pressed the ignition button. How she’d missed it. How she’d feared it.

Shifting gears, she checked the gauges. The team had everything hooked up to a computer, checking everything for her, but she still needed to verify the car’s condition.

Ben’s calm voice came over the intercom. “You’re next. Take a few laps to get a feel for it.”

“All right.” Evie pulled out from the pit and began her first lap around the large oval. Her heart thundered and the iron taste in her mouth alerted her that she was clenching her teeth too hard. Her jaws hurt, but she didn’t know how to relax them just yet. Squinting, she pressed her foot against the accelerator, focusing on hitting the same spot during the curves. She took control of the car this way, by having it perform to perfection. There was something soothing in the repetition of guiding the vehicle, the powerful dragon she commanded, around the oval, one lap after another, faster and faster.

“Looking good, Evie,” Ben said over the intercom. “No need to go any faster. It’s like you drove yesterday.”

In a way that was true. Evie drove every single night. She went to bed, began to dream, and soon she was adding lap after lap, just like now. At first there’d be no other cars, just her and the Viper, happy, feeling invincible. Then smoke, flames, pain.

“What’s going on? Evie?”

The Viper swayed faintly, its rear beginning to pull toward the outer part of the oval.

“Slow down, Evie.”

Evie blinked. Familiar voice, just like in the dream. She pressed the accelerator.
Go low. Go low!

“Evie, damn it. Slow down.”

“Too much smoke. I can’t see!” Evie blinked as the acrid smoke started to fill the car.

“Evie, snap out of it. Evie!”

*

“She’s losing it.” Ben tossed his baseball cap to the ground. “We were wrong. It was too soon. I can’t fucking reach her.”

Blythe ran up to the crew and set her camera down on the table behind them. “What’s going on?” She raised her hand to block out the sun, staring at the far end of the oval where the red Viper tore through the turn.

“She’s not listening to me.” Ben tried to call her again. “Talk to me, Evie.” His lips a tight line, he glanced at Blythe. “You try.” He handed his headset to her. “Just press the button.”

“Okay.” She could see the Viper accelerating further. Her stomach twitched as she donned the headset. “Evie? It’s Blythe. You’ve got to slow down!” The intercom crackled. “Please. Whatever you think is going on out there, it’s just your mind playing tricks on you. Listen to me, and slow down.”

“Blythe?” Evie’s voice sounded raw over the headset. “I—there was smoke. I could’ve sworn there was smoke.”

“Tell her to pull over.” Ben picked up his baseball cap and put it back on.

She shook her head. “No. She has to work through this.”

“Hey, you have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ben said angrily.

“Regarding cars or racing, no. Regarding PTSD, I know more than most. If she pulls over now, before she gets any sense of normalcy out there, any chance of feeling in charge, you can forget about her comeback.” She calmly met Ben’s eyes. She’d never understood how it was easy to be eloquent and stand up for others when she was on a job, but not when she was personally involved.

“PTSD, huh?” Ben unwrapped a piece of gum and popped it into his mouth, chewing energetically. “All right. Keep talking to her. Have her do five laps at the current pace. Then if I could have my headset back just for a wee moment, I’d be happy.”

“Sure thing.” She nodded regally and kept talking to Evie, merely to prove to her that she was still there. Thankfully, Evie’s voice sounded calm and steady. Willing her hands not to tremble, she picked up her camera and continued to work.

“Getting any good ones?” Evie asked in her ears.

“Yes. Focus on driving.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Her finger busy on the release, Blythe went into the zone, documenting the speed of the beautiful car as it swept past them repeatedly.

“Time for her to come into the pit.” Ben extended his hand and Blythe handed him the headset without a word. “Good job there, Ms. Pierce.”

“Blythe. Please.”

“Blythe. I’m Ben.”

“I know.” She nodded, hoping she looked friendly. She still wasn’t sure about everyone on Evie’s team. She hadn’t worked long with any of them last year, and some of the faces this year were new. Ben had treated her with suspicion back then, but now he looked like he was warming up a bit. That would make her job a lot easier.

Ben ordered Evie to return, which she did. Blythe kept shooting, going in close as Blythe exited through the side window opening. Taking off her helmet and balaclava, she looked elated, almost a bit too much, which was yet another sign. Emerging from danger instilled all sorts of emotions, from emotional highs to sexual tension. She had seen it before, having been through hellish situations more times than she cared to remember. She suffered from lingering issues because she was way too good at compartmentalizing. She didn’t do too well the few times she tried therapy either. So much from her past was off-topic that professional help had been a complete waste of time and money.

Evie surprised her by running up to her and pulling her into a hard embrace. “You have no idea,” she murmured. “Absolutely no freaking idea.”

Rigid for a few moments, she saw the crew go slack-jawed at the display. Since she cared a great deal more about Evie’s well-being than what the racing team might think or not think, she returned the hug.

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” she said tightly.

“I’m sorry. I’ve never had any flashbacks while driving before now.”

“Because driving a race car on a racetrack is a lot different than driving between New Haven and Plymouth.” Breaking the embrace, she looked solemnly at Evie. “I hadn’t realized I’d feel so…involved.”

“But you do.” Somehow this reassurance seemed to calm Evie. “I can’t promise not to scare you while competing, but at least now we know a good way to bring me out of flashbacks if they happen again.”

“What do you mean?” Blythe dreaded whatever conclusion Evie had drawn.

“You.” Evie beamed. “Your voice penetrated all that smoke and terror. When I heard you I knew what I was seeing wasn’t real. Your voice was the only variable that didn’t fit in. Even Ben’s voice fit in because he was right there in my ear last time. Before the crash.” She suddenly flinched and her eyes darkened to a frosty forest green. “Fuck. Not now. Fuck!”

*

Evie clasped her hands behind her back. This was exactly what she didn’t need. Not now, today, or ever. Pressing her lips together, she stared at the approaching man with a measured calm she didn’t feel.

“Hello, Malcolm,” she said, and Blythe gave a soft gasp. “What brings you here?”

“Evangeline,” Malcolm Marshall said politely. “Where should I be, if not here, where I can hopefully prevent my only child from making the biggest mistake in her life? A second time, I might add.”

“I refuse to have this discussion with you. I have the track for another hour, but—”

“A waste of resources.” Malcolm waved his hand dismissively at Ben and the rest of the team. “When you hear my news, you’ll be glad I stopped you from another redneck way of trying to kill yourself.”

“Please. Malcolm. Father.” It was pointless to try to reason with him when he was in this mood. He hated being contradicted, and if no witnesses were nearby, he could become quite abusive, verbally.

“I’ve been on the phone with several of the Formula One teams over the last weekend. If you play your cards right, they might just consider you. As a favor to me, naturally, but when they see how committed you are, you’ll gain their trust in your ability. I mean, you’re a Marshall. I’ve taught you everything, after all.”

In fact, Malcolm had taught Evie very little. She’d learned from him, firsthand, only how she was never good enough, how she was a constant failure and disappointment. Her emotions still surging from her close call during training, she began to tremble. “You’re just too much,
Dad
. I won’t be returning any calls from your F1 buddies, so you can stop calling in any so-called favors. I know you hate NASCAR. You’ve made that clear. I don’t know why you keep showing up when you know I won’t change my mind. I love this type of racing, even if you don’t.”

“You call this racing?” He stepped closer, sneering. “Compared to Formula One, this is like driving a damn tractor, cheered on by peasants. No offense, Benny.” He didn’t even look at Ben when he threw out his last comment.

“Mal, you need to leave.” Ben stepped close, flanking Evie on her left side.

She suddenly felt Blythe take position on her right.

“And who’s this?” Malcolm frowned, towering over Blythe. He made an ugly face at the camera. “The press?”

“No.” Blythe didn’t volunteer anything, merely raised her camera and kept snapping pictures of Evie’s apoplectic father.

“Hey. You have no right.”

“We’re in a public place. I have every right since I have a contract with Ms. Marshall.” Blythe spoke curtly. “I document everything regarding her return to the NASCAR circuit, and that includes anything, or
anyone
, aiding or trying to prevent it.” The camera kept clicking.

Malcolm reached for the camera, only to find Ben gripping his wrist mere inches from Blythe. “I wouldn’t do that, Mal. You’ve said what you came to say. If Evie wants to contact your F1 chums, she will. If not, she won’t. We’re all her friends. You better leave.”

“Oh, I’ll leave, all right. I’ll leave, and I’ll talk to your grandfather. He had such hopes after your crash. Once they said you’d live, he was so sure you’d understand. Two generations of Formula One champions and you break his heart with this hillbilly NASCAR shit.” Spitting as he talked, Mal clenched his hands. “Let me know when you’ve straightened yourself out.” He turned around and shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket before stalking away.

“That’s my dad for you.” Evie took a deep breath. “He’s all heart, really.” Laughing hollowly, she felt Blythe’s arms around her waist.

“There’s one hearty person in every family. Even more in mine.” Blythe held up her camera. “If we forget just how he looked when he was being his most acidic, I have some great shots of him. For a moment I thought I’d have to wipe the lens. He was frothing, wasn’t he?” Her calm irony made Evie relax, which was unexpected, but a relief.

“Well, he wasn’t saying anything new.” She grabbed Blythe’s hand, which was still cupping her side. “Same ole, same ole.”

Ben had calmed down as well. “Yup, I’ve heard it all before too. What do you say? Take that lovely red Viper of yours and give Blythe here another angle to shoot from. Got to help her get the best pics, huh?”

Evie could’ve wept as their loyalty washed over her. She put on her balaclava and, helmet under her arm, hurried toward the car. “You might get a good angle from the bleachers, Blythe.”

“Thanks for the tip.” Blythe grinned.

“Anytime. Abso-freaking-lutely anytime.” Evie pushed herself into the Viper, and this time when she let the engine roar and took it out on the track, driving was all pleasure.

Chapter Seven

Blythe picked up her cell phone and promptly put it back down, exasperated for doing the same thing three times within the last few minutes. Tugging at her curls, she looked out the window of the Holiday Inn where she was staying. Branford looked lovely, yet another crisp autumn day when all the maple trees were on fire. Part of her wanted to take her camera and just go on an impromptu photo safari in the neighborhood, but she still had some work to do on the computer. But before she could really focus on that, she needed to figure things out.

Picking up her cell phone once more, she dialed Pearl’s private number.

“Blythe. What’s up?” She sounded busy and distracted.

“Am I disturbing your editing?” Blythe closed her eyes tight. She’d hoped to gain some courage by talking to her friend.

“No. Not really. I need a break from this abysmal article. Honestly, when will people learn what the spell-checker is for?” Pearl huffed and then her tone changed. “So, tell me what’s going on, Blythe.”

Pearl’s familiar opening rant helped ground Blythe. “You know I’m getting that award, right?”

“Yes. If you mean the National Photojournalist Award. I wish I could be there to cheer you on.”

“It’s all right. I planned to go alone, but I’ve met this woman, I mean through work, and…um…I thought I’d…but probably that’s a bad idea. What do you think?”

“About what?”

“About what I just asked.” Blythe sighed.

“Let me see what I got from your slightly disjointed sentence. You met a woman, but you’re adamant that I know it’s only a work-related relationship. Then you’re having second thoughts about asking her. Is that about it?”

“Ah. Yes.”

“Blythe, honey, you called because you really want her to join you at the ceremony, but you can’t bring yourself to invite her. You’re hoping I’ll think this is a big mistake and talk you out of it.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And still you know, after all we’ve been friends for almost twenty-five years, that I’m going to push you to take a leap of faith. Call this lovely friend of yours. Ask her. The worst she can say is no.” Pearl’s voice softened. “I have a hunch that she might just accept.”

“Why? Why would you have a hunch?” Blythe clutched the cell phone.

“I know you rather well. You wouldn’t even dare consider asking a woman if she hadn’t shown some sort of interest in you, as a friend or more.”

Blythe wanted to curse at Pearl for being so damn omniscient. She’d never been able to hide anything from Pearl. That was probably a good thing, but sometimes it could be unnerving. Still, Blythe knew she’d called Pearl because she needed reassurance and a push in the right direction.