Page 5 of Shifted

Dalton’s German was not great despite having lived there for two years, but he knew that phrase. He’d heard it when his father died. He is dead.

Dennis Moore was dead.

Dalton remained still for a moment, and then turned and blindly walked out of the medical center. The next few hours and days would be a nightmare. But the worst of it was he’d been behind the man’s car and knew the truth deep in his bones. This wasn’t a racing accident. What happened hadn’t been driver error.

This was murder.

CHAPTER TWO

“He’s dead!” the man yelled into the phone and then quickly glanced around to see if he’d been heard. He was in the far corner of the parking lot by the fence. No one was around but he dropped his voice anyway. “He’s dead.”

“Yes, he is,” came the reply.

“That was not supposed to happen. I didn’t mean for that to happen. I did what you said. You said make him have an accident but—” Suddenly the other man’s tone of voice registered. “Wait. You’re not upset.”

“No.”

It took a moment for the reality of the situation to sink in. His stomach rolled. “You wanted him to die.”

The other voice was cool. “Yes, I did.” The voice hadn’t changed, as if admitting that Moore’s death was the plan all along was no different than ordering a pizza.

He was speechless, gasping for breath as if he’d just run a marathon. “But why didn’t you tell me? I never would’ve?—”

“Which is why I didn’t tell you. I needed you to do your part.”

“I want no part of this. Moore’s death wasn’t what I agreed to. I’m done. I’m out.”

“Don’t even think about it. You are a part of this now. You say anything and you will go down for murder.”

Shivers wracked his body with the coldness of the tone. This wasn’t fair. He hadn’t agreed to this. “No. No. No. I want no part of this. I…what did you do? What I did shouldn’t have killed him. How did you make it happen?” He paused. “No. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know anything.” He put a hand over his face. “But the polizei are investigating. What if they find out what I did? I am not going down alone for this.”

“Relax. They aren’t going to find out. It’s fine.”

“But how do you know?” he demanded.

“Just keep your mouth shut and we’ll all be fine. You’ll get your money in due course and we’ll all go on, only happier and much richer.”

The annoying dial tone met his ear. He leaned back against the fence. This just couldn’t be happening. How had things gotten so out of control? He stared bleakly ahead at the paddock area. His contact had been right about one thing. He had no choice. He couldn’t say anything. All he could do was pray no one found out about his part in this and pray that luck had finally turned in his direction.

CHAPTER THREE

Dalton was seated at the conference table in the trailer staring at the wall but not seeing anything. How had this happened? What would become of Hughes Racing now? This had catastrophe written all over it, and Dalton was paralyzed, numb.

Mario touched his arm. “Dennis’s wife and son are here at the track.”

“What? How did they get here so fast?” Dalton demanded. “The cops haven’t been here for more than a few minutes. Who called his family?”

Mario shrugged; his brown eyes filled with sympathy. “Your sister brought them earlier. They wanted to come with Moore, but he told them no, so Jordana drove them over. They arrived a few minutes after Moore. Jordana took them for breakfast in the hospitality tent. His entourage is also here.”

Dalton stared. “His what?”

“Entourage. I’m pretty sure he told your brother about them. He brought a bunch of guys with him. Three or four, I think.”

Dalton closed his eyes and rubbed his face. He wanted to strangle Rory for not being here and for not telling him about the entourage.

Mario gave a small shrug. “Rory didn’t tell you because he knew you’d want to say no, and he said that wasn’t really an option at this point.”

Dalton cursed under his breath. Rory knew him well. Too well. He was going to have to talk to them. All of them. The family and the entourage. It was an awful situation. There were no words for this sort of thing.

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