Cesar edged deeper into the shadows. “I got people depending on me. I got a future,” he said, shaking his head.
All of Conn’s options zipped through his head. He could arrest Cesar on some charge, get him into the Block, make him talk. Until a few days ago that was exactly the kind of in-your-face move he’d pull. But Hawthorn told him to stay out of everyone’s grill. So he bit his tongue, shoved his fists deeper into his pockets, and let Cesar walk away.
Cesar was lying. Had to be. Except … he had a good thing going working for Eve, and everyone knew messing with Eve would bring down Matt Dorchester’s wrath, with the power of the LPD behind it. Cesar had nothing to gain by lying, and everything to lose. Unless lying to Conn got Cesar some kind of street payoff.
He shook his head. Instinct told him Cesar wasn’t wired for the streets. He was too soft, too kind, too willing to work an actual job and struggle his way to a GED. The streets weren’t easier for him. Which meant he had nothing to gain by lying.
Which meant Conn had to take his statement seriously.
Which meant Conn was in deep, deep shit. The average street tough couldn’t do a tenth of the damage to Conn a crooked cop could. Everything was on the line. His job, his identity, possibly his freedom.
Fuck Hawthorn. Time to do some detective work. He strode back into the light and found Cady helping Shane close and lock the trailer doors. “There you are,” she said when Conn rounded the corner of the hangar. The crowd had dissipated, only a few lingering to talk to the racing teams as they drove cars onto trailers and closed up folding chairs.
“Watch your fingers,” he said.
“We were very careful,” she said solemnly, but the teasing in her eyes faded as she got a good look at his face.
“All set?” he said to Shane.
“We’re good to go,” Shane said, then turned to Cady. “You’re officially on the pit crew for Team McCool.”
“Wow,” Cady said. “I’m honored.”
“You’re our good luck charm. Nothing broke on the old girl tonight.”
Cady laughed. “I’ll be your lucky rabbit’s foot any day. Next weekend?”
“Every weekend it’s dry, we race.”
She collected her insulated mug from the ground beside the trailer and fell into step beside Conn. He was prepared for feminine inquisitiveness, but Cady didn’t say anything as they climbed into the Audi, or when he gave it too much gas and kicked up gravel as they shot out of the lot and down the road to the highway.
“That was fun,” she said with a longing look at the gauges. “Thanks for suggesting it. Makes me want to take her out for a run.”
He struggled with an answer. She obviously wanted to burn off more energy, and it was her car. The odds of a stalker running them off the road were slim, but the odds of nailing a deer on some back county road were pretty good, this time of year. He wanted to get back to her house and sign into the department’s system and start running down more information on Jordy’s known accomplices, and the current situation on the street in Lancaster.
“Conn. At least let me drive home,” she said as they neared the stop sign at the intersection of the airport road and the highway.
He shifted into park at the stop sign and got out of the car. In a flash she was out of her seat, darting around the hood. “Yes, yes, yes,” she said.
He’d barely buckled up when she peered around him to her left, then back down the highway toward Lancaster. Nothing coming in either direction. She turned right, away from town, then jammed the pedal to the floor.
The Audi hit sixty miles per hour in the time it took him to scrabble for the sissy bar above the passenger door. It hit a hundred before he could draw breath. The engine purred hard up to a hundred and ten, RPMs screaming into the red by the time he bellowed, “Slow down. Right fucking now!”
“Sorry, sorry,” she said, already easing back to the speed limit. “God, I needed that.”
“Do you think me being in the car with you means you won’t get a ticket? Hell, I’ll write you one myself!”
“Go for it,” she said. Her right hand rested on the gearshift while she drove with her left, handling the sports car with ease. “But it would be worth it. Again? Just once more? Please?”
“No,” he said, finally letting go of the sissy bar. “No way. If you really want to drive fast that badly, I’ll bring you out for the next test-and-tune event.”
“Fine, but I’m going home by the back roads. What’s a test-and-tune?”
“It’s a good time for beginners to take some practice runs and for the rest of us to see what tinkering over the week did to our times.”
“Your times were extremely consistent,” she said. She’d slowed down to the speed limit and turned on the high beams, the better to see the pinpoint reflections of deer’s eyes in a ditch before they bounded up onto the road.