Sweet Carolina (22 page)

She sat for the longest time, wondering what,
if anything she could do about Renfro's assault, ultimately
deciding there wasn't a thing she could do. Even if she did go to
the track officials, who would believe her? There were no
witnesses, and if she accused Renfro of sexually assaulting her
he'd no doubt drag out proof of her illicit relationship with her
driver. He'd turn it all back on her. Who'd believe a slut like
her? Any woman who'd whore herself out to fund her race team
wouldn't stop at sleeping with one sugar daddy. Renfro would have
them all believing she'd come to him, and propositioned him instead
of the other way around.

The whole thing made her sick to her stomach.
She called Russell and told him the heat was too much for her, and
she'd watch qualifying from her motor home instead of the war
wagon. He didn't question her, and Caro showered until the hot
water tank ran out, then curled up on the bed to think.

Renfro's words kept coming back to her. She
didn't believe for a second he wanted her. He wanted Hawkins
Racing. But why? Why not expand his own shop? Money wasn’t an
issue. It didn't make any sense. No one else was beating down her
door, or sexually assaulting her, to coerce her into selling.

When Dell called her after qualifying, she
congratulated him on his fourth place starting slot and declined
his offer to meet her in the hauler later for a quickie.

“We agreed to keep our relationship away from
the track,” she said. No way would she tell Dell about Renfro's
visit, or that all their discretion had been for naught. Renfro had
found out. And if they broke their own rule and hooked up at the
track, others would figure it out too.

“I know, Caro. I have something I want to
tell you. It's part personal, and part business. Can't we meet
somewhere?”

“Not tonight, Dell, if you don't mind. This
heat is getting to me today. I just want to lay in the air
conditioning and rest. Besides, I need to go over the EFI settings
again. This new electronic fuel injection system takes more time
than a carburetor, if you can believe that.”

Dell chuckled. “Thrown over for a fuel
injection system. I never thought I'd hear a woman use that excuse
for staying away from me.”

“It's not an excuse,” she lied. “I really do
need to make sure we have the optimal settings for the race.”

“You never rest, do you, Caro? Okay, what I
have to say can wait. I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Dell. Have fun tonight at the
Nationwide Series race.” She'd originally planned to sit in the
stands with her team and watch the lower division race, but she
wasn't ready to see Dell, or anybody, after what had happened with
Renfro. She needed more time to think, and to erase the memory of
his touch from her lips and her skin. When she was with Dell again,
she didn't want any part of the episode to come between them.

That evening, she dissected every word Renfro
said. Had she sold herself to Dell for funding? No. She didn't feel
she had, and she was certain Dell didn't either. Renfro dropped the
poisoned idea in her head just to mess with her. She couldn't let
it get to her. She loved Dell, and though he hadn't said the words,
she was certain he loved her too. Their relationship had nothing to
do with the money.

She was more prepared to see Dell the
following day, having convinced herself Renfro's words were meant
to mess with her head, with no basis in truth. She noticed Dell
first, standing to one side, talking to a reporter. She returned
his subtle wave.

Caro went through her usual pre-race routine,
checking to see everything was in order, paying closer attention to
the little things, like hydraulic jacks and lug nuts.

She checked, and rechecked everything. Caro
stood by as they rolled the car out for the final inspection,
confident the car was in perfect order. Hawkins Racing needed to
win at Talladega. The monster 2.66-mile Superspeedway was the
perfect setting to show off the new Hawkins Racing engine Caro
worked so hard on for the last few years in anticipation of the
time when NASCAR would scrap the old carburetor system for the more
fuel-efficient electronic fuel injectors.

She was looking over the latest computer
readout from the Engine Control Unit when Dell approached. He
wasn't alone.

“Carolina,” he said. “Do you remember Dickey
Warner?”

The man beside Dell extended his hand. Caro
placed her hand in his for a short, but polite handshake. She
turned her gaze to Dell, silently questioning why he'd bring Butch
Renfro's best driver to her garage – before the biggest race yet
for their team.

Dell addressed Richard. “Can you give us a
minute?” he asked.

Warner ambled outside and pretended an
interest in the flagpole visible on top of the press box. “Why did
you bring him here?” she asked, aware of the accusation in her
voice.

“Whoa, Caro. I don't know what you're
thinking, but I assure you, it's wrong. Just let me tell you, then
you can ask all the questions you want.”

“Fine,” she huffed. “Tell me.”

Dell ran one hand through his hair in a
nervous gesture. Well, he should be nervous, bringing Warner
around. He glanced at Warner standing just outside hearing range,
signing autographs for a few hot-pass fans. He turned to her. “He's
my brother.”

“What?” she screeched.

“It's true,” Dell said.

Caro grabbed him by the sleeve of his fire
suit and dragged him deeper into the shop. “What the hell are you
saying?”

“I'm saying, Richard Warner is my brother.
Half-brother, at least. He's a bastard.”

“Of course he's a bastard, Dell. He's the one
who pushed your dad into the wall, and he's tried to kill you a
time or two I recall as well.”

“Yeah, well… he says it was an accident. That
he didn't know Caudell was his dad until after the crash. Renfro
told him.”

“And he believed him?”

“Not at first, but his mother confirmed
it.”

Caro looked around Dell to see the man
outside. Now that she thought about it, he did look a little like
Caudell, Senior. Not so much like Dell, but Dell took after his
mother, or so Caro believed. She'd never met the woman. “So, why
did you bring him here? Today?”

“He says he's sorry about what happened to
Caudell, and after the way Renfro blurted out the daddy news,
Dickey says there's no love lost between the two of them. Anyway,
he's offered to draft with me today.”

“Are you fuckin' out of your mind?” Caro
hissed the words through clenched teeth. “No. No. And, no.”

“Caro – “

“I said, no, Dell. You can win without a
drafting partner. Besides, with the new rear bumpers, it's not as
easy as it once was. One mistake from
Dickhead
, and you'll
be nose into the wall. Have you forgotten Daytona? That was less
than two months ago.”

“I haven't forgotten, but that was then. If
he wanted to take me out of the race, he wouldn't offer to draft
with me, he'd just shove me into the wall and keep going. He
doesn't need my permission to kill me.” Dell fisted his hands on
his hips. “Look, Caro. You'll just have to trust me on this. We
know the risk. We won't draft unless I need the extra speed to win.
I know you have the fuel injector thing down, and we have the
fastest car on the track. I purposely held some back in qualifying
so no one would know what we've got under the hood. But this is
insurance, Caro. Just in case.”

“The only kind of insurance anyone from
Renfro is offering is disaster insurance, Dell. This is guaranteed
to be a disaster.”

“I don't think so, Caro. I've hated the guy
since I first laid eyes on him when we were kids, but he seems
sincere. I trust him. He wants to leave Renfro. If you get Hawkins
Racing in the black, maybe we could take him on next year. Field
two Cup cars instead of one. I'd like to see Hawkins as successful
as it once was.”

Dell had grown two heads, or maybe she was
seeing double in her rage. “Don't do anymore thinking for me, Dell.
Just drive the fucking car, and do it without
Dickhead
or
anyone else associated with Renfro. I won't stand for it.”

Dell squared his shoulders. Even the air
seemed to stand still as he stared down at her. “Well, Ms. Hawkins.
I don't give a good goddamned what you will or won't stand for.
I've got money at stake here too, and if I can use Dickey to win
this race, by God, that's what I'm going to do.”

Dell left without a backward glance,
collected his new buddy and headed in the direction of the track.
Echoes of Butch Renfro's words rang in her ears. Maybe Dell was
after more than what was in her fire suit. Maybe he was using her
body to get what he really wanted, her company. Maybe he was
conspiring with Renfro. It didn't seem likely, but nothing that
happened since she took over Hawkins Racing seemed likely.

She pasted on a smile for the cameras and
joined in the pre-race festivities, all the while her heart was
breaking, and her confidence waning. How could she have fallen for
Dell? Somehow, he convinced her he was the one person in the
business who believed she had every right to be a team owner. She'd
bought into his act too. He was no better than Renfro – maybe even
worse. At least Renfro was straight up about his intentions –
offering to buy her out, and when that didn't work, offering to
fuck her to get what he wanted.

Dell had gone about it in a more underhanded
way. He seduced his way into her heart and her bed, made her
believe in him – then he snuck his way into her company. She'd
given him her heart and believed his financial backing was given
out of friendship and his genuine belief in her. And all the time,
she'd done exactly what Butch Renfro accused her of. She'd sold her
body for money. Dell's money. And in the process, she'd lost
control of Hawkins Racing.

Dell and Dickhead would do whatever they
wanted, and there wasn't a damn thing she could do to stop
them.

Caro almost forgot about her misery as the
race progressed. Dell held track position throughout the race,
seemingly without effort. He stayed out of every crash and skirted
disaster with a steady hand on the wheel. While others tried
drafting with various levels of success, Dell cruised into second
place early and hung on.

He'd have to pit again for tires and fuel,
but barring any unseen accidents, Dell could make a serious bid for
the lead, and ultimately, the win in the last few laps. Everything
he did looked like it was scripted. A few drivers made serious bids
for his position, but he'd cut them off with skill and finesse.

“The temperature dropped,” Caro advised. “You
should see a drop in engine temperature soon. Open her up when you
think the time is right – she'll give you all the power you
need.”

“I can feel it, Caro. Damn, this car is
responsive – kind of reminds me of someone,” Dell said.

“Shut up and drive, Dell,” Caro warned.

Caro kept a close watch on Warner. He'd run
fourth for most of the race, and in a few instances it appeared he
might actually be protecting Dell's back. She shook her head to
dislodge the ridiculous notion. If Warner was sticking close to
Dell, it had to be so he could make sure Dell didn't win. No way
would she believe Warner had Dell's best interest in his heart,
fully apologetic half-brother or not. It didn't compute with what
she knew.

“Pit with everyone else, Dell,” Caro said.
“All the leaders are coming in under the green flag for tires and
fuel.”

“Ten-four. Coming in,” he said.

Twenty laps to go. Dell and the other top ten
leaders made it to their pits and back out in record time. A few
lost track position due to poor performances from their pit crews,
but not Dell or any of the top four.

“Thanks, guys. Great job,” he praised the
crew, then opened up his lead.

“No one can catch you, Dell,” Caro said.

“Roger that. No drafting today. I'm on my
own.”

She couldn’t contain her excitement, despite
her earlier dark thoughts. Dell was going to win this one, and he
was going to do it without any help from Warner, or Renfro, or
anyone else. All the work she'd done on the engine, on the fuel
injection system was finally going to pay off. Victory was theirs.
She felt it in her bones.

“Bring it home, Dell.”

“This one's for you, Caro.”

Chapter Seventeen

It felt fucking great to be back in Victory
Lane. Dell smiled for the cameras and splashed champagne on
everyone – Caro included. He didn't have a clue what had been going
on in her head before the race, but she was smiling now. It was
ridiculous, but he was glad he had a part in putting the smile on
her face, and he planned on putting a different kind of smile there
as soon as he could get them both away from this media frenzy.

Her engine was amazing. Even before the cold
front moved in and the temperature dropped, he sensed she had it in
her to win. He'd never driven a smoother ride, or one with the kind
of power this one had. If Caro were able to duplicate the results,
she'd set the racing world on its ear, and he'd have all his
goddamned money back in no time.

He pushed thoughts of Caudell's money out of
his head. He'd figure out some way to get rid of it, but he didn't
have to be in a hurry. At least it served some purpose, helping
Caro get over the rough spot and on the downhill slide to true
success. He caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye.
Her ponytail had fallen down and her champagne-soaked hair was
plastered to her head. Her face glowed with vitality and victory as
she answered a reporter's questions. Soon, the whole world would
know about the female team owner who also designed and helped build
the engine of the future.

And she was his.