I won’t go into the hellish nightmare of the next hour trying to get a taxi at a busy time of night and finally getting to the hospital a good forty miles away. By the time we found Dixon, I had worked myself up into a righteous swivet. I would not let Roger send Dixon home!
“Oh! Your pretty face!” I exclaimed when I rounded the emergency room curtain to find Dixon sitting on a chair next to an empty bed. “I thought you said you weren’t hurt? Where’s Rupert?”
“Off having a walking boot put on.” Dixon grimaced, a cut above his eye already having been cleaned up and taped closed. He had what looked like a bruise forming on his cheekbone, and the faintest hint of a black eye. “I hit my head on the car when it was jammed forward, that’s all. It’s nothing like what the others have experienced.”
“Good news!” Roger stuck his head into Rupert’s cubicle. “Anton just has a mildly sprained wrist. Should be OK in a few days with icing treatment.”
“Thank god,” Dixon said, starting to rub his face wearily, but flinching when he hit a bruised spot.
“That’s great,” I said, relieved that Dixon’s team wouldn’t be out of the race. “How’s Samuel?”
Roger’s expression turned serious. “Broken ribs and collarbone. He’s going to spend the night in the hospital, but he’ll definitely not be in any shape to continue on. The other two Esses are spending the night with him, I understand. Must get one of the PAs to take their car to the hotel... Now what?” He had been looking at a text message while he was talking and quickly punched in a number to call someone. “What’s going on? Where are the Hausfraus? What? That’s impossible! How did that— Well,werethey drinking?”
Dixon, Melody, and I all looked at one another.
“Drinking?” Melody asked softly. “The German ladies?”
“For Christ’s sake... no, it is a direct violation—we’ll have to enforce it, but this is just the last straw. If we lose any more teams there won’t be a race left.”
We waited in anticipatory silence for him to hang up, which he did, and turned to face us. “The Germans are out. They were tagged by some off-duty cop and the driver failed a Breathalyzer test.”
“Man,” I said, not knowing what to say. “That’s awful.”
Roger ran a hand over his bald head, riffling the fringe. “I made it quite clear to everyone what the rules were. I didn’t just have you lot sign a statement saying you knew the rules. We had two meetings going over them—two meetings.” He turned to us. “You knew, didn’t you? You knew if you were caught drinking and driving that the whole team would be disqualified?”
“Yes, absolutely,” I answered at the same time that Dixon and Melody added their affirmations. “That’s why we wouldn’t let Louise have wine with lunches. I feel awful for the Fraus, though.”
“Then you can feel bloody terrible for me, since the whole race is falling apart around me!” Roger said before stalking away, the phone to his ear again.
Rupert was wheeled in just as Roger left.
“How do you feel?” I asked. “Stupid question, I know, but it’s all I have right now.”
“I’ve been better, although the pain meds are working now,” he answered, getting to his feet. He looked tired, with lines of pain around his mouth as he stood and made some tentative steps under the auspices of a nurse. I waited until she gave him the final instructions and went to get him his paperwork before saying, “I’m so sorry about this, Rupert. The race won’t be nearly as entertaining without you.”
“Can’t be helped,” he said with a sigh, then gave me half a smile. “To be honest, there weren’t as many women as I thought there would be. This—” He lifted his foot a little, then made a face. “This should be worth some serious sympathy points at home, however.”
“You’ll go to Elliott and Alice?” Dixon asked, gathering up Rupert’s coat along with his.
“Probably. Alice and Mum will fuss over me to no end, whereas there’s no one in my flat but two blokes who’d tell me to get off my arse if I asked them for anything.” He gave Dixon a long look. “I expect you to win this blasted race in my honor—you know that, don’t you?”
Dixon looked tired. “I’ll try, but no promises. Come on. Let’s get you back to the hotel.”
“Where’s the De Dion?” I asked when we slowly worked our way out of the emergency room, meeting up with Roger, Tabby and Sam, and Anton at the entrance. All four looked grim. One of the production assistants had gone to get Roger’s car.
“It’s here. There’s a PA guarding it and the other car.”
“I think our wounded heroes should travel in comfort back to the hotel,” Roger decided when his car arrived. “Dixon, can you take the ladies with you in the De Dion?”
“We’ll drive,” I said, glancing quickly at Dixon’s battered face and general demeanor of exhaustion.
Roger got Anton and Rupert installed in the back of his comfortable car and headed off with them, while the production assistant who had been left with the car faced the Esses’ Zust car with disfavor. “I’ve never driven it before,” she said, looking hesitant.
Melody patted her on the arm. “I’ll drive it. You can ride with me, all right?”
“That would be lovely. Thank you,” the PA said, and they went off.
I was a bit nervous about driving a car I wasn’t usedto, especially given the nature of the last few hours, but the De Dion was a smaller car than the Thomas Flyer and it was a dream to drive in comparison with our big white beast. “Now you can tell me exactly what happened,” I yelled over the engine as my phone’s GPS found a route that avoided the freeway back to the hotel (I knew the De Dion wouldn’t be able to cope with freeway speeds). “What happened to the Zust that it ran into you if no one was in it? And what were they doing with you?”
