“Who would do that?”
“I don’t know, but Dad told me that Roger is in a state of panic because we are going to be responsible for guarding the cars once we leave the U.S.” She gave me a significant look.
“We’ll take turns doing four-hour watches,” I said immediately.
“That’s what I was thinking. It’ll mean for broken sleep, but that’s better than losing the race because someone decided to take out our Flyer.” She patted the dashboard, looking somewhat embarrassed at the gesture, but it was one I wholeheartedly understood. I was becoming very fond of our car. Other than a few minor troubles—and a tendency to blow out tires with a frequency that meant I was getting very proficient at changing them—the Flyer was a pleasure to ride around in. Driving was still a bit of a struggle, but even that was becoming easier now that we knew the car’s ways.
“You do have to wonder what we will be able to do that the crew watching the cars couldn’t do,” I said as we moved up a spot. The German ladies were waiting for their cue to start. “If someone managed to destroy a whole engine while the cars were under the production team’s eyes, how are we supposed to keep our Flyer safe?”
“I don’t know, but we can’t be any worse than the guy who was supposed to watch the cars overnight. Oh, there’s Roger.”
Roger burst out of the motel and dashed over to consult with the starter before having a brief word with the German ladies. He stepped back as they rolled off, then gestured for us to pull up.
“You heard, I expect?” he asked us when Melody came to a stop. The starter made a note on our timesheet and handed it back to Melody. “It’s terrible—terrible. I can’t imagine who has it in for me now. It’s always something! Every production, there’s alwayssomeonewho wants me to fail.”
Melody and I murmured platitudes.
“Not that it’ll stop, but I wanted to warn you ladies to be extra-special careful about the car. Don’t leave it alone for a moment unless a member of the production team is around to watch it.” He clutched the car door with fervor. “We spent too much money on these cars to have them destroyed willy-nilly.”
“It sounds like it was a targeted attack,” Melody said gently. “Corrosive materials don’t just happen to find themselves on engines.”
“Have you checked into the background of everyone here?” I asked, and immediately realized how awful that sounded. “That is, the new people. Like Anton what’s-his-name?”
“Anton?” Roger’s face went blank for a couple of seconds. “Why do you mention him?”
“Well, he is the newest member of the group. I believe someone said that he was supposed to be in the race to begin with but couldn’t do it?”
“Eh? Oh, yes.” Roger pulled out his phone, sighed heavily, and put it up to his ear. “I have to take this. Yes, Sheriff? Did you find out anything?”
“Why did you mention Anton?” Melody asked when Roger walked off quickly. “Do you know something about him?”
“No, that’s just it.” I hesitated for a moment, then gave her a brief rundown on my father’s habit of insisting I have a bodyguard with me. “And I think that since I outed Boris, my father’s normal flunky, he found someone else, and that someone is Anton.”
“But he couldn’t be, not if he was originally lined up to race,” Melody said.
I was silent for a few minutes while she got the car going, and we pulled out of the parking lot to the street leading to the interstate highway. “That’s why I was trying to pump Roger for information,” I said loudly over the sound of the wind and engine.
“Sounds fairly implausible to me,” she yelled back. “I can’t believe anyone in the race would do something so heinous. It has to be a madman who heard about us and wanted to do something to give us grief.”
“It could be. This country certainly has its crackpots.”
I mulled over the issue for the next few hours, wanting to talk about it to Dixon but hesitant to spend what little time we had together talking about something so frustrating. Plus, I had a sneaking suspicion that it made me sound overly paranoid. What if Anton wasn’t working with Dad? ThenIwould be the crackpot.
The hours passed swiftly as we drove the last U.S. stretch. We chatted periodically, much more relaxed than we had been with Louise, and although we both had to drive more each day, it was worth the tired shoulders and arms to have her negative personality elsewhere.
At one point we stopped for a quick lunch, only to see the German ladies outside a restaurant with the camera crew and Roger. A few people had gathered around them, so, hesitating to intrude on what was obviously their time to be filmed attracting attention from the locals, we drove on a block to find another place to stop and get a sandwich.
“Gives us time to get ahead of them,” Melody said aswe bolted our lunch and hit the road again. “Not that it matters at this stage, but once we hit Kazakhstan, all bets are off.”
“What’s all this about Kazakhstan? Are we definitely not going to China, then?” I asked, tying my veil in a jaunty bow under my chin. Today’s hat was a smaller-brimmed straw boater, but it had enough lift in the wind to keep trying to escape from my head.
“No, didn’t you hear last night at the meeting?”
I thought of the night before. Dixon and I hadn’t made it to the daily meeting, instead having a wonderful time in his room. “Um... no, we... I... missed it.”
She grinned. “I’d make a comment, but I think I know from experience just how well a reality show romance can turn out.”
“Well, it’s not like Dixon and I are going to get married like your dad and Tessa did,” I said, waving away that idea. “We’re just... enjoying ourselves.”
