I dismissed him. "Please. She’s totally into me. She can't stay away.”
"Like a magnet, she was drawn to you on the track, right?”
I shrugged. “Could be.”
Jack just shook his head.
We filled our bellies, and I took the last sip of my beer. Jack picked up the tab, and we slid off the barstools.
Hot Wheels sat in a booth, talking to Bill Wimbley. I had a feeling that perhaps she was on one of Wimbley's teams. I couldn't help but chuckle.
JD and I waved to Bill as we walked out. That earned us another sneer from the stunning blonde. Feisty and competitive, she was just my style.
Jack and I pushed outside the bar and made our way back to the parking lot. We hopped into the van, and he cranked up the engine. The day was done and dusted, and it was time to head back to Coconut Key. We listened to good music, talked about the day, went over what worked, what didn't, and discussed the glory that could have been.
There was always next time.
Monday, I would take the bike in for repairs. Sparky had gotten Jack’s Porsche 911 SC in tiptop shape, and he had an affinity for sportbikes. I figured he could get this thing dialed in and recommend a good body shop for the cosmetic repairs.
We pulled into the lot at Diver Down, and Jack found a place to park at the far end, taking up multiple spaces with the trailer. It wasn’t that crowded, and I didn’t expect a rush of business.
We loaded our gear aboard theAvventura, and Buddy greeted us with anticipation. I slid open the glass salon door, knelt down, and petted the little Jack Russell. With a wagging tail, he was eager to hear about our day. I told him we almost won. I don’t think he understood, but he was glad to see us nonetheless. I grabbed Buddy’s leash and took him out for a walk.
After I got back to the boat, I took a shower, chilled out, then JD and I tried to figure out our plans for dinner. I was a little sore here and there from the crash, but nothing I couldn’t manage.
We headed up to Oyster Avenue and grabbed something to eat at the Five Fathoms. Even though there was no victory, it seemed reasonable to celebrate a great performance up until the crash.
Still, last is last. You can't win if you don't finish.
The place was packed, and chatter filled the air. Forks clinked against plates, and ice chimed in glasses. People were dressed to the nines. We were more on the casual side.
Jack went with the ribeye, and I went with the filet mignon, topped with lobster and béarnaise sauce. Sautéed mushrooms and spinach completed the entrée. A nice red wine was the perfect complement to the filet. The steak was seared to perfection and melted in your mouth. Afterward, I topped the meal off with a zesty slice of key lime pie. It was a sugar-infused, tangy explosion of mouthwatering goodness. All things considered, life was pretty good.
I started to relax and unwind. Then the sheriff called. Never a good thing at this time of night.
I swiped the screen and held the device to my ear. "What is it?"
"I need you and that dingbat to get over to Palm Haven.”
“What happened now?”
“That’s what you two are going to figure out.”
4
Flickering red and blue lights painted the custom homes of the posh neighborhood. A crowd of curious onlookers had gathered. Paris Delaney and her news crew were on the scene. Her cameraman soaked up the chaos. EMTs, as well as the medical examiner, had arrived. Deputies kept the area secure.
It was almost a quarter till eleven.
Jack found a place to park. We hopped out of the Porsche and ambled across the lawn to the main entrance of the stunning estate. The modern architecture was sleek and elegant. Sharp lines, graceful curves, and fine craftsmanship. Tasteful stone and woodwork. Lots of glass windows and cantilevered structures. John Lautner meets Frank Lloyd Wright. A pedestrian gate opened to a small courtyard with a water wall that trickled soothing ambience into a basin.
We stepped into the foyer, and a deputy pointed us upstairs.
Jack and I climbed the modern, minimalist staircase to the second floor, mindful to avoid the blood drips. We followedthe commotion down the hall to the master bedroom. Camera flashes spilled out, bouncing down the corridor as Dietrich snapped photos.
The faint metallic smell of blood lingered in the air.
With what I had seen so far, I knew this wasn't going to be a pretty sight.
