Page 70 of Shifted

“Thanks.”

Clyde growled, “Get your drivers under control, Hughes.”

Tatum opened his mouth, but Dalton squeezed his arm. “Like Jack said, we’ve all made the same mistake. Thanks for being good sports.”

Jack nodded. “We all have to stick together. Hope things are starting to look up for you all.”

Dalton wanted to get Tatum out of there as soon as possible before he said something that would spoil Jack’s good mood. And why the hell was Jack in such a good mood? “You seem happy.” He hadn’t meant to say anything, but it just came out.

“Yeah, I think things are finally gonna go my way.” Clyde snorted at Jack’s comment and stomped off, but Jack ignored him. “Just a feeling I’ve got,” he said with a sly smile.

Dalton nodded. “Well, thanks again and good luck to you.” He started walking with Tatum out of the garage when the mystery surrounding Moore’s accident clicked into place. It was like all the pieces of the puzzle just suddenly fit. And he knew. He turned, and his gaze locked with Jack’s. The other man’s smile slid off his face.

Dalton turned and started hustling Tatum down the paddock. Jack knew some of Moore’s entourage. Jack had a gambling problem, or so the rumor went. He was seriously out of funds if Clyde could be believed. Jack hadn’t paid Clyde for the race yet, let alone the season. Gus’s screwdriver was found in Johnson Wrights's garage.

And the last piece, James talking to someone who was standing at the back of the car. Dalton had thought he was talking about the air jacks in the car, but he’d been saying “Jack.” And then he opened the hood. Jack would have had several minutes to loosen the screws with no one being the wiser.

They reached the trailer and Dalton told Tatum to go get changed. He pulled out his cell but realized he didn’t have Detective Haas’s number. He had no idea where the man’s card was. Who would know? Juan Carlos must know, but where the hell was he? Dalton didn’t have his direct number. He could call Greer. She would probably know.

He paused for just a second and then hit the button for her cell. He’d explain, and she’d be fine with it. The phone started ringing. Dalton looked up to see Jack behind the wheel of a dark sedan, the same shape as the one that tried to hit Greer. He was heading out of the paddock. Shit. Dalton started to run toward his SUV. He wasn’t letting this fucker get away. “Come on, Greer, answer,” he mumbled as he got into his vehicle. Greer’s voicemail came on. He hung up. He called Rory. “Get me Detective Haas’s number ASAP. It’s Jack. He’s leaving, and I’m going after him.”

He cut his brother off and shot out of the paddock area. Jack was not getting away with this. Not on his watch.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

The rumbling in her stomach led Greer to close her laptop and sit back in her chair. She’d skipped breakfast, and now that it was lunchtime, she was damn hungry. Until now, her righteous indignation about Dalton’s behavior had fueled her. What an unmitigated asshole. Seriously.

She refused to consider that he might just have a point. What it really came down to was she’d hurt him and he hadn’t forgiven her. Now, he didn’t trust her either, which was…fair. She’d screwed up, and he’d borne the brunt of her mistake.

She pushed out a harsh breath. He didn’t have to be an ass about it. Nor did she have to sit there and take it. He’d been right about the fact her job here was done. She was just waiting for a call back from her boss, and she should be good to go.

She rose and went to the bathroom. The ringing of her cell stopped her, but she didn’t rush to answer. Her boss couldn’t possibly have finished the report she’d submitted that quickly, so it wasn’t him. And she wasn’t talking to her family, so if any of them called, she wasn’t picking up. The likeliest scenario was that the inbound call was spam.

When she was finished in the bathroom, she walked over and grabbed her phone. Dalton. had called? That was unexpected and her heart fluttered. Why would he be calling? To apologize? She snorted. Pigs would fly first.

She resisted the temptation to call him back. Any communication between them could just lead to another fight. She was tired of fighting. That realization struck her, and she sat back down. She was tired. Of. Fighting. Not with Dalton, although that wasn’t pleasant, but with everyone. Her entire family. She constantly fought against her mother trying to get her to do stuff for her sister. Her stepfather trying to do the same thing, or worse, get her to do some sort of job for his small insurance company.

She was tired of fighting the clients and having to tell them they weren’t getting paid. She was even tired of fighting with Louisa over Christmas movies. She was just… done. If she’d learned nothing else from this job, it was that she needed a new life. She missed racing desperately, and even if she couldn’t go back to being part of the Hughes family, albeit an extended part, then she would just have to find another racing family. There were lots of teams out there. Surely, one of them would take her money.

Smiling, she stood. It sucked that Dalton couldn’t let things go. It more than sucked. Her chest ached with sadness, but she’d managed to get through it seven years ago, and she’d get through it now. It would just really suck.

Her phone vibrated and she looked at the screen. Her boss, Frank had texted.

Report looks good. We can argue about paying out later. Need you back here for the jewelry heist job.

She immediately sent a text back.

We’ll need to pay out. The extenuating circumstances were beyond their control. I’m not coming back. I am officially on vacation. I have six weeks saved and I’m taking them. You’ve been after me about it for months so I’m doing it now. Louisa can do the jewelry heist.

* * *

Technically, Frank could fire her, but he wouldn’t. She was his best investigator. Besides, she was way overdue for a vacay. He’d make a lot of noise and then send her a file to take a look at. It was how their game was played.

True to form, Frank sent a demanding email and then forwarded her the files. She promised to take a good look at them and give him any leads she came up with. Somewhat mollified, he went radio silent. She picked up her phone and headed down to the restaurant. If she was lucky, she might still get lunch before she headed back. She needed to talk to Detective Haas one last time as well. She wanted a copy of the toxicology screen.

As she was coming down the stairs, she passed Brian and Claire coming up. “How are you both?”

“How am I?” Brian snarled. “How am I?” he repeated. “I’m broke. That’s how I am. Flat broke. Un-fucking-believable,” he yelled and then stomped up the stairs.

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